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Bt?5l9^ REMOTE STORAGE 
 
 Sgg ■ Lifts of Births Marriages, \£c. 
 
 ,,>X:harles Jermyn Bond, Efq^ ofy»«**'The Rev, Mr. John JLowth, Kqc-* 
 •■'"iPury St. Edmund's in SufFolk. tor of Middleton Cayncs 
 
 John Dighton, Efq; Sollicitor, at jnghamfliire. - ^J^t^""*" 
 
 his houfe in Chancery-lane. ^ Mr. Negus, in Ba^ghMMfc 
 
 ■jpp^hKMt. Gen. Hufke, Governor of many years beadle of 
 rjerfey, and Colonel of the regimeht" ward. ''^^mW'^ 
 of Welch Fuzilicrs, at his houfe, in >> The Right Hon. Ijord '-1^1^ ?7 
 [ Albemarle-Tlreet, ofa rnortificaHon itvf'^eauclerk, uncle to the iTuke 
 
 his foot, aged near 80. He received Albati's, and Member of ParUaijh.enfttS,; 
 feveral wounds in the aftions at Det- for Thetford in Nprfolk, wl»<^^ h4f\ 
 
 7% his foot, aged near 80. He received Albati's, and Member of Parlj,ail2en|! 
 U feveral wounds in the aftions at Det- for Tlictford in Ngrfolk, wbicS^ htf!^ 
 / tingen, t.a Val, and Fontenoy, and reprefentpd in feveral Parliamehts,'' 
 R greatly diftinguilhed himfelf in the fuddenly, at his apartments in So- 
 , battle of Cul!o(}en. He ferved under merfet-houfe, after being at court at 
 / the Dnke of Marlborough during St. James's, and eating his dinner. - 
 ■•• £■ Queen Anne's wars, and raifed him- ^ Mr. Abraham, Mofes, formerly a 
 
 felf byhis merit. — He has left 5000^"'^ merchant of this city, at Streatham. 
 
 to a fervant who attended him' in lill > The Rev, Dr. Stephen Hales, F. 
 
 t)ie battles he was in, and confidcr^ R. S. in the 83d year of his age, 
 ^ nblc legacies to exery Icrvant under Clerk of the clofet to her Royal 
 
 him. Highnefs the Princefs DoWager of 
 
 . ^ Mr. Hoddy, in Bolton-ftreetj one Wales, and Minifter of Teddington. 
 ^^,j,.^^f the Gentlemen Porters to hjs Ma- Mr. Samuel Shaw, at Croydon^ 
 
 jefty. ' corn-fa6lor, of this city. 
 
 "-^ Mr. Fearn, gold beater, at the j^Mr. Charles Cottrell, at Philadel- 
 
 corner of the Great Old-Baily; he/*phia, aged izo years; and three 
 
 went to bed the night before feem- days after, his wife, aged 115. This 
 
 ingly in good health. couple lived together in the marriage 
 
 ■.^.-^ . v Mr. Randal Wickftead, an eminent ftate 98 years, in great union and har- 
 
 ftocking-trinimer, at his houfe in ^ mony. 
 
 Pha;nix-court, near Newgate. Mrs. Pearce, aged 93, relift of 
 
 y#>*- The Lady of Sir Thomas Parkyn?/'* ihe late Thomas Pearce,' of Little 
 Bart, of Bunny-park in Nottingjiam- Ealing in Middlefex, Efq; who was 
 jliire. ' father to the prefent Lord Bifliop of 
 
 V/illiam Sunderby, Jifq; at his ■ Rochefter. 
 >i?*'brothet's at Melton Mowbray in Lei-^^ Thornas Gierke, Efq; Counfellor 
 
 Ealing in Middlefex, Efq; who was 
 father to the prefent Lord Bifliop of 
 Rochefier. 
 
 f/ Thornas Gierke, Efq; Counfellor 
 
 celkrfhire : the caufe of his Qea,rif^ at law, at his houfe in Chancery 
 was owing to a fall he received .ffom lane. 
 
 his horfe in hunting. 
 
 Col. Brereton, in a very advanced 
 
 V The Hon. Lady Jane Cooke, at age, at h;s houfe at Windfor. 
 Bath, neaaly related to the late Dufee,^*"* Mrs. Ironfide, houfekeeper of 
 
 of Wharton. /■ She has left an eflate Windfor caftle; a place of confider- 
 
 i*^ ofupwards0f4oool. per annum, and able profit. 
 
 I0,oool. in ready money, to Mifs ' Mr, Chriftop her Tiding, fugar 
 
 Draycot. refiner, in Lemon-llreet, Goodman's 
 
 ■ The Rev. Mr. Gilbert, aneminet^t fields. 
 
 gfT difTenting Minifter in Northampton. ~'Mr. Alderman Peach, at North- 
 
 J?^ The Rev. Mr. Cockfhut, Reftor ampton, aged 96, many years a con- . 
 
 of Kegworth in the fame county. fiderable maltfter in that town. 
 
 George Murray, Efq; at his lodg- = Richard Whitfhed, Efq; he hath 
 
 / jngs near the Haymarket. left his fortune between James Whit- 
 
 Mr. Kemp, a builder, in Caille- fhcd, .Efq; and his brother CoU 
 
 . ' ^ llreat Cavendifli-fquare. , Whitflied. 
 
 ^ikX) Mil 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY^ MAGAZINE, 
 
 For FEBRUARY, 1761. 
 
 Memoirs of M. de Voltaire. 
 
 1*^.^^"^ HAT life which has been wholly employed in the 
 X ^ ftu'dy, is properly feen only in the authbr's writings; 
 ^ ^ y:^ there is no variety to entertain, nor adventure to 
 k.^^^ intereft us in the calm anecdotes of fuch an exift- 
 ence. Cold criticifm is all the reader muft expedl, 
 inftead of inftrudlive hiftory. ' 
 Voltaire hov/ever, may be juftly exempted from the number of 
 thofe obfcure philofophers whofe days have been pafled between 
 the fire-fide £nd the eafy chair ; it is a doubt, whether he ap- 
 pears more remarkable for the bufy incidents of his life» 
 or the fine produdtions of his retirement. If we regard the 
 variety of his, adventures, we fha'l be furprized how he had ' 
 time to ftudy, and if we look into his voluminous and fpirited 
 produdions, we fhall be apt to conclude, that his whole em- 
 ployment was fpeculation. 
 
 The truth is, no man can more truly be faiJ to have livedi, 
 There is hardly a period of his exiflence which is not crowded 
 with incidents that charaderize either the philofopher or th& 
 man of the world ; no poet was ever more univerfally 
 known than he. None more praifed or more cenfured, pof- 
 fefled of more fincere friends or inveterate enemies. 
 
 Francois Marie Arouet dc Voltaire, of whom we are fpeak- 
 ing, was born at Paris, the nineteenth of April 1695. His 
 family was but mean, zs his father was the maker of his own 
 fortune. Jean Arouet was at firft an ufurer, in which tni- 
 
 ^01" n. P p plovmcnt. 
 
,00 Memoirs of M. de Voltaire. LadyV 
 
 other view; and when ''"^ of Pieffier du chatelet ; 
 chafed a place under the S"^'^'^ J/'V^^^J,,^'*^^ us. In this 
 which is equivalent to an ^f^^^^'^J^Zr.A pounds a 
 office he acquired a fortune f about^^^^^^ P ^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 vear and ^ad m ereft^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 power, .nd accordmgly at the ufua age l 
 
 „l,lch they are g'"™''y/-"et J/f ve v ordLiy capacity, 
 
 .^"^t prevent h. P-^thVh" Sl^^S S^S^^^^^ 
 
 ^°'rd'rh tainful elrrni enct Po?ee .hough, proper to 
 tended vitti paimui P deprived him of 
 
 hangethe courfc of l^. pup^ 
 
 his favourite poets, ^ i^gii a v ^j^^^ 
 hands Euclid ru iy, f e byltem oX U ^^^^^ 
 
 £S:Sdefp^^^ 
 
 Mag. AfmwVj 0/ M. de Voltaire. 291 
 
 mentis, or dilconcinued their care; but Poree, who perceived 
 that all his attempts to thwart Nature were to no efteft, was 
 at laft refolved to indulge the genius of his pupi in his favou - 
 rite purfuits, and to give that imagination a full liberty of di- 
 lating, which all his endeavours could not reprefs. I percieve, 
 fays he, th.it the youth will be miferable, in fpite of all my 
 efforts ; he muft be, what Nature has made him, a poet ; et 
 us then, fince we cannot make him happy, endeavour to make 
 
 him great. ^ , , 
 
 And now the courfe of Voltaire's ftudies was changed once 
 more ; all the enchanting profpefts of poetic grbund, and all 
 the invaluable treafures of antiquity, were opened before 
 their youthful admirer. Tew equalled, fcarce any excelled, 
 Poree in the proper methods of forming a poet. He exhi- 
 bited to his pupil not only the fineft models, but diredted his 
 efforts i« imitating them i fhewcd him, that the true method 
 of copying the antients, was to draw after Nature, and m- 
 ftruaed him from the copious volume of mankmd, of which 
 a lont^ acquaintance with the world had made him a perfeft 
 malten The whole college now began to turn their eyes 
 with wonder, upon a boy they had before conlidered m the 
 moftdefpicable light; and Voltaire feemed to glory m his cori- 
 fcious fuperiority. There were four prizes generally diftn- 
 buted in the year, to the moft deferving in the Belles Lettres ; 
 he had obtained three, and miffed the fourth; however he was 
 refolved to have all or none. Accordingly, rejeaing the 
 three which were offered him, he continued another year at 
 college, until he flibuld obtain the four, which he did with 
 
 uncommon applaufe- „ , . i.- r .t. 
 
 When he had paffed the ufual time at college, h«s father 
 was refolved to remove him home, by which means he might 
 at once have an opportunity of feeing the world, and finifii- 
 in2 his education. The world was too dangerous a fcene for 
 a youth of paffions as ftrong as his imagination, m love with 
 pleafure, and, as yet, feeing human nature only on the pleaf- 
 ing fide. But his father either not confidermg, or regardleis 
 of thefe precautions, gave him an apartment in his own houfe, 
 and indulged him, though but a boy of fifteen, in a degree of 
 liberty which others are not allowed till a more advanced age. 
 The truth is, the old man miftook his fon s knowledge for 
 prudence, and imagined, that a lad fo very wife in converla- 
 iion, would be equally fo in aftion. In this he was deceived ; 
 Voltaire was a youth of exquifite fenfibility, and men of fuch 
 difpohtions generally feel pleafure with a double reiifh ; he 
 had a conftitution though not ftrong, yet delicately pliant, 
 
 P p 2 and 
 
292 Memoirs of M.deVoXtzwe. Lady's 
 
 and fuch a difpofiticn as inclined him to fociety. His vifage, 
 which was thin, might,, at firft view, Uwt paffed for 'nai'|e- 
 rcnt, but when he fpokc it caught ineftahle gracds, and his 
 foul fcemed beaming through h.s eyes. His ftature was about ■ 
 middle fize, and his perfon, upon the whole, not at all dil- 
 agreeable. Thus furniilicd, our young poet launched out 
 into all the excefles of refmed debauchery. There are in 
 every great city a fet of battered beaus, who, t'oD old for 
 pleafure themfelves, introduce every young fellow of fpint 
 into what they call polite company. A kept niiftrefs, an ac- 
 trefs, or an opera dancer, generally compofe the fociety. 
 Thefe are all perfeaiy fkilied in the arts of coquetting, teach 
 the youn"- beginner how to malce love^ fet his features, adjuft 
 his bov/,°and pick his pocket. Into fuch company as this ' 
 ' Voltaire was quickly introduced, and they failed not, accord- 
 ing to cuftom, to flatter him into an high opinion of his 
 parts, and to praife his wit, ihough incapable of reliftiing its 
 delicacy. Imagine a youth pleaftd with himfelf, and every 
 thin» about him, taking the lead in all converfation, giving 
 9 loofe to every folly that happened to occur, uttering things 
 which, when fpoken^ feemed to pleafe, but which, upon 
 reflexion, appear'd falfe or trivial ; fuch was the gay, thought- 
 lefs, good-natured Voltaire, in a circle of clofe defigning be- 
 ings, who approved his fallies from flattery, and not from 
 their feelings; who defpifed his effoits to pleafe, or enjoyed 
 his folly virith tacit malignity. His father faw, with concerni 
 the company into which he v.- as fallen ; he knev/, by experi- 
 ence, that to be a v/it was the furcft means of banifning friends 
 and fortune; and faw, that his fon, by ftriving after the cha- 
 raaer of an atp.ufina; member offocitty, was giving up all pre- 
 tcnfions of being an ufeful one. Admonition he thought 
 might be ferviccable, and accordingly remontirated very freely 
 upon Voltp.ire"s behaviour. No youth could receive advice 
 with a better grace than he, or make more faithful promifes of 
 amendment. But he was novv fallen in love with Madamoi- 
 
 G n, the adtrefs, and loft upon her bofom every 
 
 dompflic concern. 
 
 MadamaifclL- G n was txtrcmely pretty, and though 
 
 but low, f nely {h;roed: pofiTeficfied of a vivacity o.^ten more 
 pleafing than 'true wit, flie talked and looked tendernefs, and 
 ibmetimes enlivened converfaJinn with a double entendre, 
 which coming from pretty lips, is generally attended with the 
 ■ dtfired iucce!s. Thefe were qualifications iiifficient to capti- ■ 
 vate ;x perfon unacquainted v/ith^he world. Voltaire.became 
 enamoured, ar.d took every opportunity of indulging the ca- 
 pricious 
 
 4. 
 
 Mag; Memoirs of M. de Vokaire. 2-93 
 pricious, tho' expenfive, defires of a woman fmce noted for ruin- 
 ing the fortunes of feveral of her admirers. Wherever pleafure was 
 to be fold, our young poet and his mifl:refs were firft to raife the 
 au£lion. Extravagance, however, foon brings on want aild this 
 threatened a feparation. M. G — n had no other paiTion thaft 
 that general one which women entertain for the oppofite fex, 
 any other man equally good-natured, .open and fimple, would 
 have been equally agreeable with Voltaire ; fte therefore felt 
 no pain in the thoughts of feparation. But it was quite othef- 
 wife with her youthful admirer; he entertained romantic ideas 
 of the fex, confidered woman as generally defcribed in books, 
 and looked upon beauty as the tranfparent covering of virtue. 
 The apprehenfion, therefore, of being obliged to part, gave 
 him no fmall uneafmefs. The more this apprehenfion in- 
 creafed, the more diligent he was in contriving means to fatis- 
 fy her rapacity. He had already extorted money from his fa- 
 ther by various pretences ; but this refource now began to fail 
 him. His miftrefs had frequently aflured him, that it Was 
 polite to deceive the old man, that comedy every day ajfForded 
 inftances of this laudable difobedience, and often intimated, 
 that money muft be fupplied, or love dilcontinued. What was 
 to be done in fuGh a dilemma? To fubdue his paflions, was a 
 tafk he was, as yet quite unacquainted with ; he was refolved, 
 therefore, to add one falfliood more to h?s former account. 
 In purfuance of this refolution, he gravely aflured his father, 
 that the cardinal Polignac, who was employed by the court 
 of France, to adjuft the plan of pacification at Utrecht, had 
 confented to take him in his retinue. And as it was proper to 
 appear genteelly on fuch an occafion, our adventurer requefted 
 an hundred pounds for his equipment, promifing to regulate 
 his future conduit by the ftrifteft prudence. The ol J man 
 •was the more inclined to believe this ftory, as it was a place 
 he had been folliciting for his fon, fome time before, he there- 
 ' fore advanced the mortey, and Voltaire, rejoicing inthe.fuc-' 
 cefs of his ftratagem, flew to fliare his joy and his acquifi- 
 tion with his charming deludei. . 
 
 I am not infenfible, that by recounting thefe trifling parti- 
 culars of a great man's life, I may be accafed of being myfelf 
 a trifler; but fuch circumftances as thefe generally beft mark 
 a charader, Theie youthful follies, like the fermentation of 
 liquors often difturb'the mind only in order to its future re- 
 finement. A life fpent in phlegmatic apathy, refembles thofe 
 liquors which never ferment, and Are confequently always 
 muddv. Let this then be my excufe, if I mention Siny thing 
 that feertis derogatory from Voltaire's charader, which will be 
 
 found 
 
i 
 
 i i 
 
 294 !Feyjoo's "Defe^ice of Women. Lady's 
 
 found compofed of little vices, and great virtues. Befides, it 
 is not here intended, either to compofe a panegyric or draw 
 up an invedive ; truth only is my aim ; an impartial view of 
 his hlftory may Ihew him guilty of feme errors, but it will at 
 laft, turn the ballance greatly m his favour. 
 
 [ 1o he continued. J 
 
 Feyjoo's Defence of Women. \concluded.'\ 
 
 Let the women know therefore, that they are not inferior 
 to the men in their underftandings : upon this they will 
 enter the lifts with confidence, and will conliderably 
 take ofF the edge of their antngonifts fophiftry, where 
 under the cloke of reafon thefe laft difguife their unrea- 
 fonablenefs; if a woman was to be once perfuaded, that a man, 
 in refpe£l: to her, is an oracle, fhe would then give an attentive 
 ear to the bafeft propofal, and would reverence, as an infallible 
 truth, the moft notorious falfity. 'Tis well known to what 
 habitudes! thofe hereticks, whom we call Molenifts have 
 reduced women, who before were very virtuous. From 
 whence did Aich perverlion arife, but from the imagination 
 that in this fed theie were fome men of fuperior fights, and 
 from having too great a diftruft in their o^Vn underftandings, 
 when this laft was reprefenting to them very clearly the falfity 
 of thofe venomous maxims. 
 
 There is another confideration of very great importance in 
 this matter. It is certain that a perfon yields more eafily to 
 that other whom he acknowledges fome notable advantage 
 One man fubmits without violence to another, becaufe he 
 is more noble than himfelf ; but he would do this with ex- 
 ceffive repugnance, if they were both of equal quality. The 
 fame thing happens in our cafe, if the woman miftakes that 
 man is of the more noble fex of the two, and that flie in her 
 own is an inconfiderable animal, imperfedt, and of little ac- 
 count, fhe will not look upon it as a difgrace to yield herfelf; 
 and the flattery of obfequioufnefs being added to this, flie will 
 repute for glory wh:^ is meer ignominy. Let a woman 
 therefore know her own dignity, as St. Leon preached up to 
 the men. Let her know that there is no advantage at all in 
 our fex over her own, and that therefore it will be always vile 
 and fcandalous in her to allow mart any dominion over her 
 body, but then only, when the fandlity of matrimony autho- 
 rizes it. Nay 
 
 P.P.s'lko MIL 
 
 Mag. Feyjoo^s Defence of Women. ig^ 
 
 Nay I have not yet mentioned all the advantage there is, as 
 to the motal, in extricating both men and women out of the 
 miftake they are under, concerning the inequality of the two 
 fexes. I firmly believe, that this error is the occafion of infi- 
 nite adulteries in families. It looks perhaps as if I had embar- 
 rafled myfelf with fo ftrange a paradox, but it is nothing but 
 an evident truth. Lend your attention therefore. 
 
 In a few months after the afFedtions of two perfons have 
 been united together in the bonds of matrimony, the woman 
 lofes that efteem,which fhe at firft conceived for a valuable man 
 newly poflefled by, her. The man from tendernefs pafles to a 
 lukewarmnefs : and this lukewarmnefs many times comes to 
 end in a flighting and an abfolute difefteem. When the huf- 
 band is once arrived at fo vitious an extream as this, he be- 
 gins to triumph over and infult his wife, under the notion of 
 the advantages which he imagines he has in the fuperiorjty of 
 his fex : for as he has been already pre-inftru£ted in thofe 
 maxims which teach, that the woman, who knows moft, 
 knows no more than a boy of fourteen years of age, that it is 
 to no purpofe to look for brains in that fex, nor prudence, 
 nor any thing elfe of this kind, all which he obferves in 
 abundance in his own, he treats her therefore with the utmoft 
 contempt. In fuch a ftate as this all that the poor woman 
 thinks is a meer delirium, all that flie fpeaks is nonfenfe, all 
 tliat fhe does is wrong. - The attractions of hei beauty, if fhe 
 has any, are now of no morefervice to her, becaufe thefecu- 
 rity of poflTeflion has abated the value of them. This is a fpell 
 that is now at an end. All that the huftiand remembers is, 
 that woman is an imperfe£t animal ; and if flie ftegle£ts 
 herfelf, though her face were' never fo handfome, he will be 
 fure to upbraid her as if flie was nothing but a heap of im- 
 perfection. 
 
 Under this ftate of mortification is the unhappy woman, 
 when fome rake begins to caft defirable glances at her : and to 
 one become defperate in feeing at all hours nothing but a 
 frpwning countenance, it is natural, that ^ fmiling face 
 fliould appear extremely agreeable. This is a ground fuflici- 
 ent to promote a converfation. Jn this converfation flie hears 
 nothing that does not flatter her fancy, befor^, flie heard no- 
 thing but difdainful reproaches, but now flie is not addrefled 
 but with adoration. iJefore, flie was treated as if lefs than 
 a woman^ but now flie fees herfelf elevated to the fphere of > 
 divinity. She was told before that ftie was a filly creature, 
 now ftie hears that flie has a more than human underftanding. 
 In tl?e mouth of her huftjand flie wa,s all imperfedion, but in 
 
 that 
 
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33^ ^ liji of Births, Marriages, l^c. ' Mig. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Anihurnham, bro- A lift of Deaths. 
 
 f^Iv^'u^l BiJ^'ofChichcfter, to , Gotten Dent, Efq; firii Captain of 
 
 the^Prebend of temng in that cathc- the Royal hofpital at Greenwich, and 
 
 r^, n , many years a Captain in the navy. 
 
 Felinv! ^rC f'- „ '^^'y' , kes, malt diftiller, 
 
 c °^^^l^"ft-college, to the rec- in St. John's-ftreet. 
 
 R Leicefterlhire. Mr John Henley, mercer, Cheap- 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Toller, to the living fide. /' . P 
 
 of Cocking Hatlcy in Cambridge-^ Mr. Peter Flower, of the fmall 
 
 - , . „ . PO^. an eminent Exchange and flock 
 
 Ihire. " ' 
 
 J lift of Births. 
 f _ The Right Hon. the Countefs of 
 \Egmont, of a daughter, at the Earl's 
 noufe in St. James's fquare. 
 
 The Hon. Lady Charlotte Murray, 
 / wife of John Murray, of Strowan, 
 1 E<q; of a fon, at the Duke of Athol's 
 V Jioufe at Duukeld. 
 
 A lift of Marriages. 
 / The Hon. and Rev. Mr. Barring- 
 / ton, brother to the Lord Vifcount 
 f Barrington, to the Right Hon. the 
 i Lady Diana Beauclerk, fifter, to his 
 \ Grace the Duke of St. Albans, 
 7^ The Rev. Mr. Humphreys, Vicar 
 of Collerne in Wiltfhire, and Leflu- 
 rer of Pancras, to Mifs Heath, daugh- 
 
 broker of this city, at Bethnal-gr-een. 
 
 Major Morris, of the Queen's royal 
 regiment of foot, in garrifon at Li- 
 merick. 
 
 _ Mr. M'Carty, firft Lieutenant of 
 his Majefly's fliip Royal Sovereign. 
 /Mrs. Ongley, relift of William 
 'Dngley, Efq; formerly Member of 
 Parliament for the town of Bedford. 
 
 James-MalTey, Efq; at his houfe \ 
 in Old Broad- flreet. 
 
 Mrs. Pocock, mother to Vice- 
 Admiral Pocock, in an advanced age. 
 
 Lr.dy Frankland, reliftofthe late 
 Sir' Thomas Frankland, Bart. Her 
 Ladyfliip was juft returned from Italy. 
 Mr. Arthur Walters, formerly a - 
 
 ^ T °I ^^^^ ^'''•y Efq;' of mercer in Ludgate-ftreet, in an apo- 
 
 ..Stanftead m Effex. pleftic fit, in a wood near his own 
 
 Daniel Faulkner, Efq; to Mifs houfe, where he went a Ihooting. 
 ' if^' ?^ Buil.ngtou ftreet. Mr. James Hayden, a Spanifh mer- 
 
 Mr. Law, bookfeller, in Ave-Ma- chant. 
 ry-Une, to Mifs Owen, of Alder- Mrs. Gaftrell, relift of the late 
 
 manbury. Bilhop of Chefter. 
 
 Henry Northcote, Efq; of the George Woolley, Efq; Cafhier of 
 
 third regiment of foot guards, (fccond the South-fea houfe: he has left thr 
 
 fon of the late Sir Henry Northcote, bulk of his fortune to his relations, 
 
 of Pines Bart.) to Mils Searle, of Ex- and all his houlhold furniture, &c. 
 
 ^^^i"- with an annuity of 50]. for her life, 
 
 Mr. Edwards, late of Middlewich to his houfckeeper, who had lived 
 
 in Chelhire, to Mifs Rogers, daugh- with him upwards of twenty years, 
 ter of Richard Rogers, Efq; of the The Hon. Major-j^eneral George 
 
 Plantation-office. . Rickets, aged 76, at Jamaica. 
 
 Robert Pa!k, Efq; Governor of , Matter Thomas Stone, the only 
 
 Fort St. George in the Eaft-Indies, to^fon of Andrev/ Stone, at his father's 
 Mifs Anne Vanfittart. fifter of Arthur houfe in Privygarden, Whitehall, 
 Vanfiuart, Efq; one of the Repre- Mr. James Parker, merchant, at 
 fentatives for the county of Berks. Ponty pool in Monmouthfliire. 
 - The Rev. Mr. Commeline, Vicar Benjamin Cleve, Efq; at his houfe 
 of Haresfield, Gloucefterfhire, and in Wood-ftrc^t, Cheapfide : he v/as 
 Reftor of Draycott Foliat, Wilts, to Governor of the hofiiltals of Chiifl, 
 Mif« Gythens, of Briftol. St. Bartlioiomew, Bridev/eil, .wA 
 
 Bethlem. 
 
 f . . ^ , , * 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY'S magazine; 
 
 For march, ^761. 
 
 The Life qLVoltaire. [continued] 
 
 ijf"^'^^"31= U T to proceed ; in a few days the old man began 
 jj/ to teftify fonric uncafinefs at feeing his fon make no 
 
 'sH )h- preparations for his intended j urney ; but loft all 
 k ^'■'^ A P^lience Vvhen he found that the cardinal had fet 
 out, and left hitn behind. He had for feme time 
 
 known his ^'^rIefponucnce with Mademoifelle G n, 
 
 and conjeaiired, that her apartment would be the moft 
 likely place to had him. He accordin-ly went to her houfe, 
 and findino; the door accident open, enter'd without' ce- 
 remony.— Wben, unfortunately, the firft figure that prefentcd 
 was young Voltaire coming down ftairs, pale and emaciated 
 both by his apprehenfions and debauchery. The father being 
 refolved upon the fcvereft corredion, with his cane in his hand, 
 purfued the delinquent up ftairs. Vohaire now faw that a 
 drubbing was inevitable, and therefore thought it the beft way, 
 if poffible, to divert his father's anger hyajeft. Accordingly 
 when he had ran up to the third ftory, drawing his fword, he 
 cried out to his father, who was not yet got up to the fecond. 
 Sir, you muftcxcufe me, if I confider our relationftiip now at 
 an end * , for we are at leait three removes afunder. 
 
 His father, however, in his prefent difpofition, could by no 
 means rclifli a jcft ; he defifted from his purfuit, but went di- 
 
 * In French it rum thus : Au tro'ificme degre je ne ionnoh pas 
 de parens. The pun is lofi in Englifto. 
 
 Vol. II. X X xeaiy 
 
33 8 Life &f Vo\i?L\xQ. Lady's 
 
 reftly away, meditating a much feverer puniHiment. Voltaircj 
 who thought the ftorm was over, went down to laugh aWay 
 his fright with his miftrefs; the young lovers began to be ex- 
 tremely facetious upon the awkard chagrin of the ok! man. — 
 But their mirth was foon interruptcd.by a file of mufquetccrs, 
 who came to conduct our poet to the Baftile, for having drawn 
 his fword upon his father. — This was an early iniviatTon into 
 mifery; to be fnatched from the arms <;f an aUurino- miftrefs, 
 and be confined in a gloomy prifon, without fire, cancHc, pen, or 
 ink, was a reverfe of fortune which might throw a damp upoa 
 men of an ordinary degree of fortitude : but Voltaire bore it 
 ^'ith an aii* that ftiew'd the utmoft refolution. He entered his 
 prifon with the moft chcarful fcrcnity, rcpcatinii- from his fa- 
 vourite Poets fuch paffages as were applicable to his circumflan- 
 ces. On fuch occafions of diftrefs, perhaps, the Poet has the 
 advantage of all others, when forfaken by fociety, the mufe 
 adrtiiniftersher friendly confolation, and foftens even the hor- 
 rors of confinement. A bit of red chalk was all that Voltaire 
 had to ferve inftead of a pen, aiid the white walls of his pjifon 
 fupplied the place of paper: yet even with thefc rude matenals 
 he Iketched out the firft canto of his Henriade, a poem too well 
 known to require an elogy. The traoes of his pencil are, to 
 this day, preferved in the chamber to which he was cojifinetl, 
 with as much veneration as the paintings of Raphael in the 
 galleries of the curious. 
 
 When he had remained three weeks in prifon, his father, 
 who had taken this fevere method only in order to his refor- 
 mation. Was appeafed, and the delinquent was again admitted 
 into favour. It is a doubt, whether the incident of his impri- 
 fonrnent was more fortunate for him, or beneficial to the pub- 
 lic. His intre;^id behaviour fodn gained hirn the notice of the 
 l^reat, his confinement turned his mind, which was wholly dif- 
 lipated on plcafurc, from debauchery to ambition, and gave 
 the world one of the- greateft poets that any age has produced. 
 
 Fie now prepared in good earneft to follow the cardinal Po-- 
 lignac to Utrecht, ai -J fome recommendatory letters which his 
 father's ir.terefl: had procured, gave him reafon to expeci a fa- 
 vourable reception from his excellency. Accordingly, v/ithout 
 taking leave of the companions of his debauchery, even with- 
 out bidding his miflrers adieu, he (et out upon his journey, and 
 arriving at Utrechi, prefented his letters of recommendation 
 to the cardiiiid. Polignac was one of the deeped fcholars, and 
 the m.oftre.nued politicians of the age. His Anti -Lucre- ius isfuf- 
 £c:rnt lo eflablifli his character as one of the fir-ft in the literary 
 worlds and his addrefs at the treaty of Utrecht, fully evinces 
 
 hi^ 
 
 Mag: LiU of Voltaire. 339 
 
 hi ; ikill in thebufinefs of the cabinet. He was prirticularly rc- 
 mark.ible for reading every man's real character, upon the 
 {li-^hf.-it.- acquaintance ; and notwithftanding all our young pt)- 
 i precautions, this penetrating politicjan quickly perceived 
 his violent attachment to plcafuie: yet, notwltliftanfllng Vol- 
 taire h. d fuflicient addrefs to become a favourite, and fcarcc :i 
 dav pafled in which the cardinal did not fpend (ome time in 
 converfation wi-rii his gay libertine, for (o he was plcafed to 
 call him. iMadame Du Noyer relates fonicof the intrigues for 
 which Voltaire was remarkable at Utrecht, but as they contain 
 little more than what every reader may fuggelT, viz. his mak- 
 ing love, and his addrefs being crown'd with fuccefs: 1 (hall 
 pafs them bv, particularly as he'himfelf, more than once, a vows 
 the fallehooJ of all that hi > female biographer has been pleafed 
 ro (av of hini. 
 
 Upon his return to Pans, he had again an appartment in his 
 father's houfe; here he united the characters of the man ofplea- 
 fure, and the philofopher ; dedicated the morning to ftudy, and 
 the evening to fociety. — His companions now were very differ- 
 ent from, thofe he had fometime before aflbciated with; he be- 
 g:in to have a reputation for genius ; and fome of the politeft of 
 cither lex in Paris, were pleafed to admit him among the num- 
 ber of iheir intimates. 
 
 Our p )ct had dways a defire of thinking differently from 
 others, every opinion, was generally receiv'd as true, — 
 He was particularly fond of controverting, and often miftook 
 p.rradox for refinement. Of this fault \iz was more guilty in 
 youth than in riper age, for it was about this time that he 
 thought proper toconfine himfelFto his chamber, to draw up a 
 new (yftem of religion, and abolifh the old. He had been em- 
 ploy'd thus, fix or feven days ; when his father, furprix'd at his 
 keeping his chamber fo clofely, thought proper to enter and en- 
 quire the reafon. V/hen he perceived how the youth was 
 employed, he was almofl unable to fupprefs his aftoni/hment ; 
 h(!t recollecSting that it was impoflible to convince, by realon, :i 
 vain youne man, who neither had patience, nor perhaps abilities 
 for a fiovv^and painful invertigation, he was leloK'eJ to ad, if 
 pofliblc-uj^on hispaffions. 
 
 Accordin<j;lv, taking his fon by the hand, he led him into his 
 own appartrnc'nt, and there [pointing to a large cruci.^tx, exqui- 
 fitely painted, which hung at one end of the room] my fon, faid 
 he, you \vo;;ld alter the religion of your country, — Behold the 
 fate of a reformer. This feafonab'ie remonftrance had the 
 dcfired fuccefs; lie laid by his controverfial pieces, and lurn'd 
 to a fubiect of which he was much more capable.- Fired with a 
 
 X x' 2 love . 
 
340 i,/,./ Voltaire. Lady', 
 
 love ofanhqu.ty , she him<eln„r„m<,B; 1,p was refoKed ,^ 
 
 dy, could do upon the French Theatre ,l,cv lnd h!,h°VT" 
 
 turnd. It was therefore .,n harclv undertakin-r • ^^"^"'^^ 
 young a man, to introduce Grecian fcve"f and ■ ''''^ 
 trymen that an inftruilive and i U r ftin^n^forr. 
 U,at efi^.inati,^ paffion, could S^^t^rS^ 
 people who made Jove one of their moft (brious c.np oy^ts 
 Th s play was adcd ,n the beginning of the year ,718 Thl 
 pubhc received .t w.th the utmo/l induloencc; it was /Jd 
 feveral nights without inteimiffion, and" f{ ill continues K 
 performed with theliahcR .ipnlanfe The ^uihnr U 
 has always been fo model,, \^ ,0 ^ rib te i cc'-^rthe 
 greatnefs of the fubjecl-, and the exce'lenrr- n ' r 
 rather than to the merit of tl e n^n Ti' dl ^" P^'-^°™7> 
 in their judgement of this p.^ntme^t Xl^T too' f 
 clamatory, and endeavoured to (h-w vhlrh ,„j. . 
 
 , -f . -"ch the Gr'eciaT; ".^d/tf ^"10"° 
 
 Others confidered it as the firft fruits of v^un /of '"P^^o^^- 
 
 t? ^^'^ ^--V an7c!;r4ri^;hffi^ 
 tion and the clafic propriety which ran ' thro' the whole A 
 mong this number was Madame Du Chatcler, a Tady e^unt 
 famous for w.t and learning, perhaps ftill more known Sy h r 
 connexions v»^ith our poet, and for the v^ri,>t c i "^'^ 
 ems which he has addrefs'd t^he her ap ' ' m.^^^^^^^^ 
 ju% been f ed.he tribunal of c.ttif^^irtC et^;; 
 day frequented by all whofb wit or learning Jve them any 
 eminence m the literary world. She took the p1.et und^r her 
 proteaion; andth.fe critics, whom her wit could not brin. 
 over to his mterefts, became profelytes to her beauty. T, Ihort" 
 Voltaire owed his firft rife to her ; and fteperhaps owes to him 
 immortality. However, tho' the majority of critics were for 
 him there were ftil] fome refradory. Pere Fola d n hTm J 
 la Motte of the French accademy, 4re of^f "Iber" thfont 
 remarkable ror his learning, the other for the finenef of his 
 genius, and fkill in cridcifm.-They were the rep^ed autho 
 of feveral anonymous ftriaures whi.h were n„^\i(hJ 
 .hcOedipu.„fVol,aire3 nordidth;fe;% ;t*d J^^^^^^^^ 
 clmethemiputation; tho'fcrmerlv orofeflin,, ,l,L,rll 
 the number of his friends : men of^^til^^:::^:^ 
 
 ftol'^V '"2 ' ' ^''P ^hofe beams o?fa;our 
 
 from the younger flaoots, which are, perhaps, of their own 
 
 pro- 
 
 Mag. Life of Voltaire, ^4, 
 
 pioduaion. f)e la Motte cither envying this applaufe of our 
 poet, or cbufing to enjoy the public favour without a rival, was 
 refolv'd to fhew the indif}"crerce of Voltaire's performance, ra- 
 ther by example than criticifm ; and accordingly wrote a trage- 
 dy upon the very fame fubjed. From the endeavours of a man 
 of eftabhfted reputation, like him, much was expefled ; parti- 
 cularly as he had the errors of Mr. Voltaire before him, 
 
 to avoid, and his excellencies which he might improve -The 
 
 town expci^ted v/ith impatience to compare thofe efforts of con- 
 tending genius, and their curiofity was at laft gratified. La 
 Motte's performance appeared with a large party to fupport it; 
 and it accordingly met the fate of aJl plays which arc fupported 
 by party:_ it languifhed four nights, and then funk intoobli.i- 
 on. This was aconquefl Voltaire's moft fanguineiiopes could 
 not have fuggefted : however, fuch was his ambition, that he 
 was not only contented with vidory, but was refolved to tri- 
 umph; not fatidled with enjoying the fruits of conqueft, but 
 bent upon proclaiming himfelf conqueror.' This indeed was a 
 fault of which he was always culpabje ; no perfon ever gained 
 the vidlory in literary contentions, fo often as he has 
 done, but while he purfued his advantages too far, he turned his 
 opponents into enemies, and when they could no longer ieffen 
 his reputation as a wit, they often ftrove to blacken hil charac- 
 ter as a man. He found the majority now wholly on his fide, 
 he faw that none praifed the tragedy of La Motte, but fuch as 
 were attached by private connedions to his perfon: in order 
 then to infure his fuccefs, he was determined to fliew that his 
 rival was his inferior, not only in poetry but in criticifm alfo; 
 for a (kill in which he had, till now, been particularly remark- 
 able; La Motte, had wrote an effayagainft the rules of the Dra- 
 ma, in which he endeavoured to ftiew that its lav/s had been 
 eftablifted, not from nature, but caprice, from fafliion and not 
 from feeling's. This Voltaire undertook to anfwer, which, as 
 It is both a line piece of criticifm, and an inftance of the delica- 
 cy with which this great man has treated his opponent, I fhall 
 beg leave to tranflaie. 
 
 "I fnall not perfume to fpeak of the tragedies of either Pere 
 Polard, or M dc la Motte, either mv cenfures or my praifes 
 would appear equally fufpicious. I am ftill farthc. uom be- 
 ftowing any thing like panegyric upon my own, b^ing convin- 
 ced that rules alone never made a genius.— Confcious I am 
 that all the fine reafoning and delicate remark that have been 
 cxhaufted, of late year?, upon this fubjec^, arc r.ot equal 
 to one fingle fcene diftated by a fine imag-na ion.— -There is 
 more to be learr.cd from reading one of the tragedies of Cor- 
 
 neille 
 
I 
 
542 Kingof'Pmm^ihS'peech. Lady's 
 
 neille or Racine, than from all the precepts of the Abbe d' Au- 
 bignac. All the books compofed by Connoifleurs, upon the art 
 of painting., convey not half the inftrudtions of a fingle head, 
 which has come from the pencil of Angelo or Raphael. 
 
 [ To^ be continued, j 
 
 y A Speech \^hich was Made by the King of Prus- 
 sia, to the Hereditary Prince of Hesse-Cassel, 
 upon his Converfion to the Roman Catholic 
 Religion. 
 
 YO U nuft be fenfible, my dear prince, that it was with 
 infinite concern I received the news of your changing 
 , your religion. Alas ! it was eafy to forcfee all the inconveni- 
 encies which have fincc been the refult. I have been entreated 
 to fpeak to you on the fubjed ; however, I don't know that as 
 the bufinefs is concluded, whether it be prudence to infnl upon 
 it more. — Good God ! what motive could have determined 
 you to fuch a ftep ? certain I am, my dear coufin, that had 
 you confidered how much it would have affii£ted yout aged fa-- 
 ther, your loving fpoufe, your future fubjedls, and, in general, 
 klltheProteftant powers of Europe; you would never have been 
 guilty of fuch imprudence. — ^No, furely, no reafon could be 
 fufvicient to induce a heart imprefled with humanity and ho- 
 nour, thus to forfeit the love of his friends, the confidence of 
 his fubjecls, and the efteem of the public. 1 am very fenfible' 
 that when a man confiders eternal falvation ; all things in 
 this life are trifles in his. eye ; but furely falvation is not cir- 
 cumfcribed within luch narrow limits as you confine it to ? 
 furely it is impoflible that God ftiould make human happinefs 
 depend only on external circumftance.'- . 
 
 Priefls difpute, and dogmatize, arid mutually brand each 
 other with calumny : the Chriftian only labours to love God and ' 
 his neighbour, v/ithout fubmitting his reafon to the decifion 
 of a pope or a council. The Chriftian admits of no other tri- 
 bunal but truth, and Heaven will never recompenfe opinions, 
 or creeds examine, and you will find all the bad confequences 
 of the catholic religion. They are fo manifeft, that while you 
 prefer thepleafure of reafoning upon God, to the fatisfadlion of 
 loving him, you will ftill want fometbing to wilh, and fome- 
 thing to do. 
 
 P,ps-iko Mil 
 
 Mag. King of Pruffia's Speech. 34^ 
 
 Befides all this, if I were in your place, I would have faid to 
 rnyfelt, it is impoffible that God can defire that I fhould be faved 
 hy a condudt which contributes to render my family miferable 
 and wounds my moft facred connexions. * 
 Notwithftanding, I fancy I underftand the motives which 
 have induced you to this, wrong ftep. In youth we are apt to 
 be guilty ot numberlefs abfurdities: my own experience may 
 ferve as an example and argument. The time comes in which 
 thofe faults are to be repented of; a tender confcience draws 
 up the charge with aggravation: you thus endeavour to calm its " 
 rcmonftrance. Folks are at hand to aflure you that God will 
 ratify the abfolution of a prieft, who lays his hand upon your 
 head, (an ealy method this of being faved). This method is 
 fure to be chofen ; it is too flattering for to give time to re- 
 fleft upon its uncertainty, the convert fcarce allows, himfelf an 
 opportunity of doubting. ' , 
 
 ( Here the Prince interrupted the King ; but His Majefty 
 refufing the fubjedl, proceeded. ) 
 
 Very well ; I grant you know the merit of that abfolution 
 which has thus eafed your mind and encreafed your zeal; yet 
 if it be good, they have fold it you fufliciently dear. The 
 very mouths, which now pronounce a bleffing, would be loud 
 in excommunications fliould you for the future ofi^er to dif- 
 obcy. They muft be permitted to rule uncontrolled over every 
 confcience, and forge chains for your fubjedts and you. This 
 this will be a fouicc of numberlefs calamities. The arts of the 
 Catholic priefthood are too well known. Keep a ftria: watch 
 upon the fnares they fliall fpread to enthrall you. Confult 
 truth ; hearken to the fentiments of your own heart; ob/erve 
 the dictates of honour, and a confcience uncontaminated with 
 fuperftition. You already cannot blame the members who 
 compofe the Evangelic body for taking necefl'ary precautions to 
 obviate the pernicious efl=ects of a Prince's conduct, who feems 
 led by his clergy; a Prince whom, for the future, few can 
 confide in. 1 he priefthood only will be governors with you 
 Thefc confequences have been feared, and I muft own ihev 
 have been guarded againft in a manner that muft be very mor 
 tifying to a mind poiTefl-ed of any fenfibility. Your hands ha/e 
 been tied, and I wifti you had not made fuch a ftep necef- 
 T^; ^^^'^'^ ^'^^ and endeavour to throw off 
 
 thofe bonds, which terror taught you to put on, apd which 
 may prove fatal to more fovereigns than yourfelf. Think upon 
 andifmyfincerity has gone too far, be aflUred 
 that friend/hip was my only motive. 
 
A Lift of Births, Marriagesl'li^. 
 
 park ; when a draught of twenty-Jix 
 men out of each company was made, 
 in order to be fent to Germany, 
 Sun^e^ 2 1 . 
 
 This day the Eaft-India company 
 received the difagreeable news, that 
 the Ajax, Capt. Lindfay, homeward 
 houpd from Bengal, was taken by a 
 French frigate, off Cape Clear, after 
 a fniart engagement, and carried into 
 oxt^ : Ihe had on board a large quan- 
 tity of diamonds, filk, mullin, and 
 other valuable efFeils. There is fome 
 ^xiety for tht Denham Indiaman, 
 ihe failing from Bencoolen before the 
 Ajax failed from Bengal, and has not 
 iince been heard of. 
 
 Thur/day 26. 
 Laft night two young fellows, 
 quarrelling at Maryjbone, went out 
 to try their manhood in the fields, 
 when one of them, whofe name was 
 ; Allop, a cow-keeper's fon, was killed 
 on the /pot. 
 
 ^ lift of Promotions. 
 _ The Right Hon. the Earl of Bute 
 ■IS appointed to be one of his Maief. 
 ty's Principal Secretaries of State. 
 . ^^7«'»ii'i, March 20, His Ma- 
 jeity m council was this day pleafed 
 to declare the Right hon. George 
 Dunk Earl of Halifax, Lieutenant- 
 treneral and General Governor of his 
 Majefty's kingdom of Ireland. 
 
 The Right Hon. Sir Francis Dafli- 
 wood, Bart, to be one of his Majef- 
 ty's fnoft Hon. privy-council. 
 
 The Marquis of Granby . to be 
 lieutenant generalo*' the ordnance. 
 
 To Charles Frederick, Efq; the 
 office of mafter-furvc7o/ of the ord- 
 nance. 
 
 To William Rawlinfon Earl, Efq: 
 the olEceof clerk of the ordnance. 
 
 To Andrew Wilkinfon, Efq; the 
 office of keeper of ordnance ftores. 
 
 To Charles Cocks, Efq; the of- 
 fice of clerk of the deliveries of ord- 
 nance. 
 
 lift of Preferments. 
 The Rev. Mr. Thomas Kendall, 
 Vicar of Althorne in ElTex, to the 
 
 reftory of Little ChilhaUi an the fam« 
 county. 
 
 Richard Chafe, clerk to the rec- 
 tory of Ilkerlhall St. John (a fine 
 cure) with the perpetuaj curacy aa- 
 nexed, in Suffolk. 
 
 Samuel Rolt, clerk to the reaory 
 of Croxton, Lincolnfcire. 
 
 The Rev. George iMorrifon, M. A. 
 chaplain to the Earl of Eaftwood, 
 Effex, with the reftory of Stanton-' 
 Magna in the fame county, " 
 f . , L'fi <f Marriages. 
 / P,.Jo^n Scow, Kfq; Adjutant of the l_ 
 
 I'lintfliins^ militia, to Mrs. Newham 
 Vof King-ilreet, Cheapfide. 
 i Capt. Collins of the royal regi- U« 
 ment of artillery, at Woolwich, to 
 Mjfs Sally Pomero^V, pf the fame 
 . place. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Harris, Vicat of 4„ 
 , Hornchurch, to Mifs Belford, of 
 ^Maidjftone. 
 
 A Lift of Deaths, 
 Mr. Fiiher, of Jefus CoUege, Ox- 
 ford, and Regifter of that uniyerfity. 
 aged 70. ' 
 
 The Right. Hon. the Lady Vif- 
 countefs Hinchinbrook, mother to 
 the prefent Earl of Sandwich, at her 
 iioufe in Charles-ttrect, ge/kley- 
 fquare. 
 
 George Napier, Efq; a Ruffia 
 merchant of this city, arfiis houfein 
 Allen's-court, Lcadenhall-ftreet. 
 
 James Pattifon, Efq; formerly mer- 
 chant of this city, at Plumfted in 
 Kent. , " 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Williams, aged 103, 
 and retained her fenfes to the laft. 
 
 Peter Walker, Efq; brother to 
 Thomas Walker, Efq ; member of 
 Parliament for Weftlow in Corn- 
 wall. 
 
 Jofeph AylifFe, Efq ; many years 
 deputy of Queenhithe ward, and 
 father-in-law to Mr. Deputy Ryly. 
 
 Captain Dupies, Provoft to the 
 army in Flanders, at his houfe in 
 Cannon-row, Weftminfter. 
 
 Thomas ^all, Efq ; one of the 
 commiffioners of the Navy. 
 
 I $^w^ >^ )^ ^ M >^ 5s( )^ I 
 
 t t 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY'S MAGAZINE, 
 
 For APRIL, 1761. 
 
 The. Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 fj £ principles of all arts, which depend upon 
 
 ♦ \ imagination, arc eafy and fimple, equally 
 S ^ T ^ * founded in nature and in reafon. The beit 
 
 ♦ ^ 3t \ worft poets have compos'd upon the fame; 
 
 ♦ SbL?J^^.^ * both us'd fimilar materials 5 and the 
 ^**'M»*iH'*i^ difference only lies in their application. The 
 fatne thing happens in mufic ; and even in painting, — PoufTin 
 is direfted by the very rules which condud the moft wretched 
 dauber. It is as needlefs, therefore, in a poet, to attempt to 
 prejudice the public, in favour of his performance, by intro- 
 du(ftc«"y criticifm, as it would be in a painter, or mufician, 
 to lay dowrn rules to prove that the fpectators, or the audience 
 muft be pleafed with their refpediive performances^ 
 
 However, as M de la Motte has thought proper to eftablifli 
 rules different from thofe which hav? condufiled our great maf- 
 fers in the art of poetry, itisbutjuft to defend the laws of 
 antiquity ; not, indeed, becaufe they are ancient, but becaufe 
 they are natural and ufeful ; and alfo as they are in fome danger 
 from fo formidable an opponent. 
 
 This gentleman begins with profcribing the unities of action, 
 time, and place. Thofe are fo united with each other, that he 
 who combats one, attacks them all. 
 
 The French were th.e firft among the moderns, who revived 
 the Jawa of the Drama i the neighbouring nations were jong 
 
 D d d before 
 
384 T-ife of Voltaire. Lady'i, 
 
 before they could be brought to fubmit to a reftraint which 
 feemed fo feverfe. — But as this rcftraint proceeded from Nature, 
 and reafon taught them the juftice of the compliance, in time 
 they were brought to fubmit. At prefent, even in England: 
 their poets are fond of informing the public, in their prefaces,- 
 that the time of the a£lion and the reprefentationare equal, and 
 they are even more ftridl in this particular than us who have 
 been their mafters. 
 
 Every country now begins to regard thofe times as barbarous ; 
 when the laws of the ftage were either not prafticed or not 
 known. Shakcfpear and Lopez deVcga, are admired, liut nWL 
 imitated. All are ready to pay France their acknowledge- 
 ments for having pointed out this jiift and natural finiplicity. — 
 Who would have thought that a Frenchman fliould be the firft 
 to introduce again primoeval barbarity. 
 
 Tho' I had no other anfwer to make to M. La Motte, but 
 ijiat Coriieille, Racine, Moliere, Addifon, Congreve, and- Maf*. 
 fei, have all obferved the rules of the Drama ; this alone might 
 be fufficient to filencc my opponent, but M de la Motte deferves 
 to be oppofed with reafons and not by authorities. 
 
 A tragedy or comedy has been defined the rcprefentation of 
 one adtion : fhould it be demanded, why of one only, and itdt'of 
 two or three together, the reafons are obvious. Either the 
 mind is incapable of attending to two or three objefts at; onccj 
 or becaufe our concern in the events is leflcncd by being xli- 
 vided, or becaufe we ar« dilpleafed to fee two adlions in thef 
 fame pidure. Uniformity is a conftitucnt of beauty, imprint- 
 ed on our fouls by Nature, and all the efforts of art excell as t\}iej 
 imitate the models fhe draws. ^ , . 
 
 For thefe reafons unity of Place is alfo eflentialj for one anid 
 the fame s£tion cannot be tranfaded in. different places at the 
 fame time. If the perfonages, whom I behold in the firfl act, 
 are at Athens, how can they be at Perfia- in the fecond ? Le 
 Brunhas not. painted Alexander at Arbelaj and in the Indies 
 on the fame canvas. — But, fays M de la Motte, " There; is 
 nothing furprizing, if a nation v/hich has not ftudied itfelf intcv 
 a fondnefs, for rule, fhould be pleafed at the reprefentation of 
 Coriolunus, condemn'd at Rome in the firfl; act, received a- 
 mong the Volfcians in the third, and befieging Rome in the 
 fourth." Yet, why fhould a fenfiblc people be fo much againft 
 thofe roles, which are made only for their pleafure ? Are there 
 jiot in a fubject thus conduced three diftinct tragedies; and 
 were it put into verfe, would it not refemble, rather, an hiflory 
 or a romance than a Theatrical performance? Take away the 
 «aity of place, and you necelTarily deilrby that of action, Thr? 
 
 Mag;' Iz/^ (?/ Voltaire. 3^5 
 
 unity of time is naturally connected with the two former. — 
 Let us then hold to the three unities, as the great Corneillehas 
 laid them down ; in thefe we fhall find every other rule of the 
 Drama contained, refulting from, thefe, or confpiring to afTift 
 them. 
 
 M de la Motte, however, is pleafed to call them principles^ 
 firfl invented by fancy, and fupported by fafhion : he maintain* 
 that they may, with propriety, be difpenfed with in our trage- 
 dies,, fince they are intirely neglected in opera. This method 
 of reafoning fomewhat refembles the abfurdity of that politician 
 who would reform a regular government by the example of 
 an anarchy. 
 
 , Abfurdity joined with magnificence, characterize the opera, 
 in this the ears and the eyes find more entertainment than the 
 mind. ' A fubjection of the words, to the mufic, renders the 
 mofl ridiculous extravagancies excufable. Cities are ranfack'd 
 in recitative; the palaces of Pluto and of the fun ; of gods and 
 devils ; of magicians and monflers ; rife, form a dance, and dif- 
 appear in the twinkling of an eye. We tolerate, even are 
 pleafed, with thefe extravagancies, becaufe the fpectator in fuch 
 circumflances imagines himfelf tranfported into a fairy land ; 
 and provided he is entertain'd with good mufic, fine dancing,. 
 a.nd a few interefling fcenes, he is content : It would be as ridi- 
 eulous to demand unity of action, time, and place, in a pleafing 
 opera, as to introduce dancing devils into a regular tragedy. 
 
 Yet, notwithflanding thofe regularities may be difpenfed 
 jvith, in the opera ; the befl we have of this kind, are thofe 
 in which the unities are leafl violated. If I am not miftaken, 
 there are fome in which dramatic propriety is inviolably pre- 
 ferved, which ferves to prove how neceffary, natural and inte- 
 refling it is to every fpedator., B.ov^ unjuft, therefore, is it to 
 condemn our nation of levity for difapproving, in one fpecies 
 of compofition, what we approve in another. In tragedy w« 
 r^uire perfe(^l:ion, there is in it no mufic to divert the attenti- 
 on, nor dances to confound: all our plealbre depends upon 
 intele<St alone ; we there admire the addrefs of the poet, who, 
 in one day, and in one place, defcribes a fingle action which 
 charms without fatigue, and fills the mind without confufion ; 
 ^where our pleafure rifes byjuft degrees, and terminates with 
 • moral propriety. The more difficult this fimplicity appears, 
 : the more it is cheating ; and we find upon examination that moll 
 of our pleafure refultsfrom thevarious uniformity of the repre- 
 sentation. M. de la Motte, is not content with depriving us 
 Ti^^auica} proj^riety, but he would alfo baniflj poetry from 
 t' p d d a. the 
 
II 
 
 38^' I,//? 0/ Voltaire. Lady'a 
 
 tl^e ftage, and have all pur pieces reprefented in profe. It is 
 a little extraordinary, that an ingenious writer poffcfTed of an 
 imagination, trudy poetic, who has feWom Vvrote profe, except 
 to vindicate pr explain his own poetry ; (hou Id write againft 
 verfe, with the fame contempt with which he has v/rote againft. 
 Homer; when, neverthelefs, he has thought proper td tranflate. 
 Neither Virgil, Tafo, Boileau, Racine, or Pope, ever wrote a- 
 gainft poetry, nor Lully againft mufic, or Newton againft 
 aftrpnomy. There are fometimes men found, who fancy 
 themfelves fuperior to their profelTioh ; the fureft fymptoms of 
 their being aftually below it ; but <his is the firft time we have 
 feen any attempting to afperfe thofe talents to which they owe 
 all their reputation. There are already too many, who, 
 having no acquaintance with the charms of poetry, afFecl to de- 
 foife it. Paris abounds with men, otherwife of good under- 
 ftandinga, who are naturally deftitute of organs, capable of 
 relifhing harmony ; to fuch, m-ific is but noife, and poetry bat 
 ingenious trifling. Should thefc be informed, that a perfon off 
 merit, and who has compofed iive or fix volumes of poetry, is 
 of their Opinion ; would they not be apt to regard iall other pb- 
 cts as fools ; and him, as the only one of all his brethren, who 
 had found the ufe of his reafon ? let me then, for the honour ; 
 of our profeiiion, endeavour to anfwer him ; even let me add, ^ 
 for the honour of a country, which owes part of its reputation 
 amohg ftrangers, to a perfection in this very art which he af- 
 fects to defpife. ■ X - - - 
 
 It is advanced by this gentleman, that rhyme is a-modcm'in- 
 vention, and had its rife in times of ignorance aiid barbarity : 
 yet, notwithftanding this, all nations, except the antient Greeks : 
 and Romans have rhymed and continue the cuftom tothisdayi ' . 
 The return of fimilar founds is fo natural to mankind, that wt 
 find rhymes obtain, even, in the moft favagC regions, as well as 
 in Italy, Spain, France, and England. j 
 Montaingue prefeftts us with an American ode, Gompdfed in 
 this manner, and in one of the papers of the Spectator, wrote 
 by Mr. Addifon, we are prefented with the tranflation of a 
 Lap-land ode, originally compofed in rhyme. 
 
 The Greek, " Qiiibusdedit orerotundo mufa loqui, " pUc'd 
 in an indulgent climate, and favoured by Nature, with finer or- 
 gans than other nations; form'd a language, which, by the 
 length or fhortnefs of Its Syllables, exprefs'd the calm, or tb^ 
 impetuous dictates of the mind. From this happy variety, in 
 the conftru£tion of their language^ refulted fuch mufic in their 
 profe, as well asTerfe, that no nation» btttthe ancwnt ltakaAs, 
 could ever fucceed in iaritating^ 
 
 But 
 
 Mag. ' i//tfe/Vdtaire.. ggy 
 
 But it is not rhyme alone, but meaftire alfo, which this ittg^ 
 itioUs gentleman condemns. Before the time of Herodotils, hiA 
 tory was wrote only iit verfe j this cuftqm the Greeks borrowed 
 from the ancient Egyptians, a people politic, learned, and wife. 
 It was founded in nature, for the end of hiftory, being to pre-» 
 ferve an account of the actions of a few great .perfonages, 
 which might ferve as examples to pofterity, as men had not 
 yetattain'd tiw art of fwelling the tranfactions of fom« obfcut* 
 convent, or infignificant village into- feveral foiioe; nothing 
 was tranfmitted but what was worth remembering j nothing 
 butwhat was remarkable was generally tr^afurqd up in -the me?- 
 mory as a guide to action. Verfe, therefore, was proper to affift 
 in this particular; accordingly the firft legiflators, founders of 
 i:e] igio/i, and -hiftoxians, were poets by profeffion. On fucb oc- 
 cafions, however, poetry muft necelTarily have wanted either 
 harmony Of preciffion. Virgil at laft appeared, who united thefe 
 two cxcellendes which feemed fo incompatible. Boileau and 
 Racine had the fame fuccefs; a perfon who has read til the 
 three, who knows that they are tranflated into almoft afl 
 the European languages, but illy imploys his talent* in endea- 
 voutriiig torender them contemptible ; fuch Cenfiire often rever^ 
 upon the accufer, 
 
 I rank Boileau and Racine in the fame dafe with Virgil, in ro- 
 
 fa;d to vecfificatibn ; for had the author of the Eneid beenborna 
 renchman, it is probable he would have wrote like them ; and 
 had they liv'd in ancient Rome, they would have molded the 
 Latin language into the fame harmonious cadence -with tlic 
 celebrated Mantuan. When, therefore, M. la Mortte, cm- 
 fures verfification as ridiculous, mechanical, triflingi he not 
 only accufes our poets, but all thofe of antiquity. Virgil and 
 Horace have been- as affiduous as we, in the mechanifm of their 
 verfes. An happy arrangement of Dactyl, and Sponde were as 
 difficult as our rhyme and metre. Their labour muft certain- 
 ly have hetn great, fiiKe the Eneid, after^the corrections' pf 
 eleven years, was ftill thought far fhort of requifite perfec- 
 tioH. " 
 
 But this ingenious author ftill ailerts that turning any fccfle 
 tof tragedy into profe, diminiflies neither itfrforce, nor its beau- 
 ty. To prove this aflertion, he tranfpofes the firft fcene of 
 Mithridates, and has thuS' rendered it intolerable to even the 
 meaneft capacity. But ftill, continues he, our neighbours 
 have rejected rhyme in their tragedies. This muft be^rantedj 
 but then they are^Wfote in verfe, which though without ryme 
 is from -ihe-natwejof tlieir. languages harrooniaHS.. .Should.we 
 jUtempt to caft off a yoke which was- worn by Corneille and 
 
 Racine, 
 
X^chow and GlenllU, Lord Inve- 
 rary, Mull, Morvern and Tyrie, 
 Lord Lieutenant of Argylefliire, and 
 Admiral of the Weftern liles, alfo 
 Vifcomu and Earl of IJa. Baron 
 Ornfay, Dunoon and Aros, Keeper 
 of the Great Seal, Jurdce General, 
 Extraordniary Lord of Seffion, Here- 
 ditable Mafter of the King's Houf- 
 hold, Hercditable Keeper of Dun- 
 ftafrnage and Carrick, chancellor of 
 the univerfity of Aberdeen, and one 
 of his Majefty's, Mofi Hon. Privy 
 Council. Ke was born in 1662, and 
 foccecded his brother John in No- 
 vember, 1743. His titles aiul ellatea 
 defcend to the Hon. Lieutenant Ge- 
 neral John CaiKpbel!, lately chofen 
 , niember lor tJie fliire of Dumbarton' 
 in Scotland. 
 
 Mrs. Frances Olds, polTe/Ted of 
 a large fortune, at Coventry. 
 
 Mifs Annabella Caiolina- Jnwood, 
 at Kenrinr;ton, daughter of Thomas 
 Inwood; Efq; of that pi ace. 
 
 Mr. Jo'nathau Barras, a merchant' 
 of this city, at Hackney. 
 
 Dr. Edward Cobden, Archdeacon 
 of London, ReSor of St. Auguftin 's 
 near St. Paul's, and of Adion in 
 IVIiddlefex. 
 
 Mifs Mary Mufgrave, fecond 
 daughter of Sir PiTiiip Mufgave, 
 Bart. 
 
 Mr. Richard Riley, an eminent 
 printer, in Town-ditch, near Little.. 
 Britain, and maiiy years a' Com- 
 inori-council-man of this city. 
 
 Sir Edward Goodycre, Bart, at 
 Clapton, 
 
 Mr. Thomas Lowe, many years 
 Yeoman of his Majefry's beer bat- 
 tery, and one of the Ufhers to the ' 
 Yeomen of the guard. 1 
 
 Mr. Tinney, printfeller in Fleet- 1 
 ibeet. 
 
 Mr. Griffiths, at his houfe at 1 
 J^mbeth, faid to have been the 
 nicitcomlderable potter in England. 1 
 
 The Right Hon. the Lord Edp-e- { 
 
 ^ Lift sf Marriages, Deaths, ^c. 
 
 combe, chancellor of the Dutchv nf ' 
 Lancafter. /or 
 
 I..^^ G. Oldy's Efq; Norroy King 
 ) Arms, in the 74th year of his aje 
 I Henry Campion,- E% at his fo, 
 r near Lewes in Sullex, aged 82 ■ h 
 , polTelTed a large eflate in that coun! 
 
 Mr. James Cadywold, Agent in th^ 
 
 • navy, in Oid B;oadftreet. 
 
 • ^ Mrs. -Mary Cheflyn, daughter of 
 •■ Mr. Cheflyn in Doclors Commons of 
 
 an apopleftic fit. 
 
 Henry Bofville Efq; at Bradbourn 
 near Sevenoaks, in Kent. ' 
 
 n-^^^^.'^^^-'^^i' ^«at at 
 
 Great MilTendeji-abbey, in Bucks - 
 he was male heir of the ancient fa' 
 m\y of the Anfell's, of Icklef ord in 
 Hertfordlhire. 
 
 Mailer Willis, about eleven years 
 old, only fon of the late Mr. Willi, 
 a confidiirable giars-manufaaul^r near 
 Moorficlds. It is remarkable his fa. 
 . tner was killed by a fall from his 
 horfe, hunting on Epping loreft, the 
 day twelvemonth, and about the fame 
 hour. 
 
 "ir'^.jf ^'Sht Rev. Dr. Benjamin 
 Hoadly, Lord Bifliop of Winchefler 
 and Prelate of the moft noble order 
 of- the Garter, at his houfs at Chei- 
 fea, after a few hours indifpofirion. 
 His Lord (hip was theifirft perfo;. ap, 
 pointed a Bifhop in the reign of 
 King George I. was confecrated Bi- 
 ftop of Bangor on the tranflation of . 
 Dr Evans from that fee in 1715, and 
 was promoted to the bifhoprick of 
 Hereford in 172 1, on the deatA of 
 Dr- Bifie ; from whence he was ad- 
 vanced to the diocefe of Salilbury on 
 on the tranflation of Dr. Willis to 
 the fee of Winchefter in 1723, and 
 upon the death of that Bifliop in, 
 1734' -^^ fucceeded him in the dio- 
 cefe of Winchefter. 
 
 _ Thomas Bafkett, Eiq; Printer to 
 his Majelry, at his houfe oil Barnes 
 common, near Putney. 
 
 sihJO MIL 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSin OF ILLINOIS 
 
 T H E. 
 
 lady's magazine. 
 
 For MAY, 1761. 
 
 The Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 HERE is perhslps hd fituatiori more uneafy 
 
 * if^gltlC?! 1 than that of being fbremoftirl the Republic of 
 5 % /-p ^ t letters. If a man, who Writes to pleafe the 
 
 * ^ J- ^ S public, cannot, at the fame time^ ftoop, to 
 
 * nik^^M * flattery^ he is certainly made unhappy for life* 
 %4,4>^4,'i.^^*4ft There are an hundred writers of inferior Inerit 
 contihually expelling his approbation, thefe muft be all ap- 
 plauded, or made enemies, the public muft be deceived by ill- 
 placed praife, or dunces provoked into unretaitting perfecution. 
 This under-trlbe in the literary commonwealth perfedlly un- 
 derftand the force of combinations, are liberal in their mutual 
 commendations, and actually enjoy all the pleafures of fame 
 without being fo mtich as known to the public. While the 
 tnan of eminence is regarded, as an outcaiftof their fociety, a fit 
 objefa at which to levd all their invedive, and every advance 
 iie makes towards reputation, only lifts his head nearer to the 
 ftortn ; till at laft he finds, that, inftead of fame, he has been 
 only all his life earning repitoach, till he finds himfelf poffeffed 
 of profeffing friends and fincVre enemies. 
 
 Fontenelle and Voltaire were men of unequal merit, yet 
 how different has been the fate of either ? Fonten^le was as 
 paffionately fond of adujition as Voltaire was ever averfe to 
 battery. The one kindly told every blockhead that he had 
 wit ; the other honcftly advifed him to difcontinue a profeffion 
 
 VoL.IL Kkk in 
 
Mag. ^^f^ Voltaire. , 433 
 
 none more fit than M. Voltaire to be the objed of fo pure a 
 flame. 
 
 Our poet now perceived, that books had fpoiled her for a 
 miftrefs, and that flie wa^ refolved to facrifice the fubltance to 
 the fhadow. Yet, as fhc was, in fome meafure, beautiful, as fhe 
 feemed happy in his converfation, and could ftill be a charm- 
 ing friend, he v/as refolved to accept of the terms fhe oftered ; 
 to be contented with the fpare diet which fhe could afford, and 
 look for more fubftantial entertainment from others. An op- 
 portunity foon offered of this kind. 
 
 The Marchionefs dePire, a young widow of cxquifitc beauty, 
 had taken a fancy to our poet ; and, as flie was pofTefTed of a- 
 large jointure, had fome intentions of marrying him. She 
 found means to have Voltaire informed of her inclinations, and 
 took care to have hernobility anfi fortune, placed in the moft 
 advantageous point of view. Voltaire, who loved the fex, but 
 hated matrimony, feemed to be happy in her propofaL, and 
 beeged an interview; jn which our lovers feemed mutually 
 pleafed with each other. As all his intentions were to pleafe 
 the lady and himfelf without the previous ceremony, he de- 
 clined all converfation upon matrimony, but talked of difm- 
 terefted paffion, unconfined rapture, and all the cant of an in- 
 fjdious dcfigner. The Marchionefs, who was as virtuous as 
 beautiful, quickly perceived the tendency of his difcourfe, 
 thought proper to break oft a converfation,- which took a turn 
 not at all to her inclinations. At parting, fhe gave him hopes, . 
 and enjoined him fecrecy. He accordingly promifed the ftrict- 
 eft honour, and with an heart elated with vanity, he went to , 
 communicate his happinefs among all his friends. As he un- 
 fufpe£lingly made every perfon that profefTed the leafi regard 
 for him. a confident, among tlie reft he happened to tell his. 
 fyccefs to a gentleman who was a£lually his rival. The con- 
 fcquence of tliis indifcreet confidence was, that the Marchionefs 
 was informed of the whole, and profcribed our repentant lover 
 for ever from her prcfence. In fuch a difappointment, the mufe 
 was his confolation, he worked this adventure into a comedy 
 which he dedicates to his unforgiving miftrefs the dedication, 
 which it is impoflible to tranflate with elegance equal to the 
 original, runs in plain profe thus: ' Thou. who haft beauty 
 without piide, and vivacity without indifcretion ; whom Hea- 
 vpn has formed with every gift it could beftow ; a m.ind feri- 
 ou^lyfolid, or rapturoufly gay ; accept this picture of the in- 
 difcretion of a lover, who loft a miftrefs by boafting of her fa- 
 vQurs. Had the heroine of this piece been poiTefled of thy 
 beauty, who could blame the lover formentioning fo charming 
 a miftrefs, either through excefs of vanity, or cxcefs of love.' 
 
 , Iv k k 2 ' But 
 
1 
 
 434 ' Life of Voltaire. j^^ady'^ 
 
 But, ene adventure morcof this nature, and I quit a fubiea 
 that may appear already tedious. The Platonic paffion be- 
 tween Voltaire andM. Chatelet was nsw become I fubjea of 
 cor^verfat.on over all Par.s. His inconftancy was well known 
 
 cnc;VSi°"f^V'°"f tha/hisattachmcnrto 
 one miftrefs ftould. have fo long a continuance. Mr. Pyron a 
 man of infinite humour was rcfolvcd to try the fincerity of his 
 paffion not by prefenting him wuh a real but an imaginar^ 
 
 in the h.ghcftftram of flattery, and prefentsit to him, as coming 
 from a lady ,n one o: the provinces, who was enraptured witB 
 h.s poetry, and had almoft conceived a paffion for his perfon. 
 Voltaire read the poem, found it inimitable, and fancied a 
 thoufand beauties in a lady cf fo fine difcernment. In fhort' 
 he was aftually fallen in love with a creature of his own ima' 
 g.nation and entreated his dear ugly friend ; for fo he fam!- ' 
 .arly ufed to call Pyron, to procure him an interview with a 
 Jady of fo much merit. Pyron promifed in a few days to gra- 
 tify his requeft and in the mean time came every morninr to 
 tell Voltaire, that the young lady was upon her journey, and 
 would arrive very fhortly, adding many pathetic exclamations 
 on her beauty, and the delicacy of her behaviour. Our poet 
 wzj at laft wound up to the height of expcaation, which 
 when 1 yron faw, he informed him that the lady was aduallv 
 arrived; that the chief motive of her journey was to fee a man 
 o juftly celebrated as M. Voltaire, and that fhe entreated the 
 honour of his ccrnj-.n::-; that very evening. Our poet in rap- 
 tures prepared bnr.idf for an interview, which he expedted 
 with the utT.oit impatience. 
 
 The hour ac laft came ; and Voltaire eagerly flew to fatisfy 
 at once his love and his curiofity. Upon being introduced in- 
 to the apartment of his fancied angel, he was at firft a little 
 difconcerted, to find xVI. Du Chatelet of the party ; but -uefs his 
 confufion, when he beheld his ugly fnend, drefibd up in a 
 Jappet head and petticoat approach to falute him. In fhort' 
 he was informed that Pyron himfelf was the fair one who 
 wrote the panegyric, and who confequently expecled the pro- 
 per return of gratitude. ' Well, fays Voltaire, turning his 
 diiappointmcnt to a jefl, if Pyron had a grain lefs wit, I 
 could never have forgiven him.' 
 
 This adventure has fince ferved as the ground-work of a 
 comedy called, La Metromanie, infinitely^ the heft modern 
 per.ormance upon the French theatre. Some difappointments 
 oi this kind ferved to turn our poet from a paffion which only 
 
 tended 
 
 Story of a ^leep-walker, 435 
 f.A to obftrua his advancement in more exalted purfuits, 
 I' mil d which at that time was pretty much balanced be- 
 *^'Ln Plearure and philofophy, quicUy began to encline to 
 T Htter He now thirfted after a more comprehenfive 
 knowledge of mankind ^Wn either books or his own country 
 
 " EtdS'abfu?Ti;is time, was coming into repute thro' Eu. 
 a he land of philofophers. Newton, Locke, and others 
 o attUthe'a^^^^^^^^ -d drew hidje 
 
 . roncourfe of learned men from every p^rt of Europe. Not 
 ?r Sn\ alone, but our politics alfo, began to be reg^ded 
 
 pf philofophers ^nd of liberty. 
 
 he continued.'] - 
 
 ' to Mr,s. Stanhope. 
 Madam, 
 
 * AS vou werepleafed to infert the account of a fleep. 
 t dents.' 
 
 AvmiNG eentleman, going down from London to 
 Th?weft of ESnd? to the houfe of a very worthy gen- 
 
 kinfwoman's wedd.ng that ^J"" J „Jvery glad to 
 *er=fo,e told the yo-ong " but/lw h.. 
 
 commodations. Sir, rep led tne y o o ^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 p p s'lk^ Mil, 
 
i 
 
 r.&'P 31, Ay, ^ Lady', 
 
 _ Tl« Rev > Skinner, B. L • to \ ' ■" ' • ^ ' ^ 
 
 the reaory of Thorpe/ Xt. " t ■ >^ 
 
 chapel of BeafeJy thcreJn'to united, 1„ K J '^i^^y ^^aneis GofI!„^; L 
 
 ^o^untyof Wilts a^d diocefc ^^^-^'J- of Farri«^.^^ ^ 
 
 °"eof chaplains to Lord Hat -^i^'n^f^ e^^^-^^^. ' - 
 
 •0 S-c*"- ^<^, chap,™ * Hot 
 
 . Attuvdl Wood, Efq • to Mifs Grav^- -'''S ^'LT^^'" ''^^^^'Ma^^ft/ ' 
 -. Mr John Page, Apothec^yr^^ ^ ^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 H E 
 
 LADY'S MAGAZINE, 
 
 . Koi..- JUN'E,. .1761..:: 
 
 ' J ■ 
 
 Tfi':' '.^'^C; 't#^_-of yotT4i5,Bv [continued] 
 
 * 'S1*»*^J A TT I J a ' ' "-•■fliic i.dUlC over to 
 
 t I ^-"g'and. A pfevious acquaintance with At- 
 
 I "i t I « V ^'^°P o^Roche^ler, and the- lord'' 
 t f-Kjlj^ I i^of'flgbroke,, was fuffici^nt to introduce him 
 
 * JRLW^j^ I among the polite, and his fame. as a. podt got' 
 <***+<H.**4^^ hin\ the acquaintance of the learned, ,m si 
 country where foreir^ners genefally find but a cool reception.' 
 He only wanted introduaioii, his own merit was enough to 
 procure tne reft ■ As a companion no man ever exceeded him 
 when fie pleafed tolead the converfation, which however was 
 not always the cafe In company which he either difliked otf 
 defpifed, few could be more referved than he ; but when he was 
 warmed m d;fcourfe and had got over a hefitating manner which 
 lometimes he was fubjeft to, it was rapture to hear him. His 
 meagre vifage feemed infenfibly to gather beauty, every mufde 
 
 had meanmg, and his eye beamed with unufual bright- 
 nels. 1 he perfon who writes this memoir, who had the ho- 
 nour and the pleafure of being his acquaintance, remembers 
 to have Teen hmi m a feled company of wits of both fexes at 
 rans, when the lubjecl happened to turn upon Ehglifli tafte and 
 learn mg. Fontenelle, who was qf the party, and who being 
 unacquainted with the language or authors of the country hi 
 
J 
 
4^^ Life of Voltaire. Ladv'. 
 
 undertook to condemn, with a fnWh i , ■ 
 
 revile both. Diderc, whoTed ,£ ^'^r" '° 
 
 thing of .heir 'i^^'nry Vrc.c^aoJZ^^^^^^^ 
 
 rangue laHed till three in tL l^norning f ^ruft^onflfs th " 
 whether hon. national partiahty, or'from Te eleg ^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 lity of his manner, 1 never was fo mu-h ch-irm^rl ' ' J ) r ( 
 ever remember fo abfolute a viflorv e a-^nT" • It ^ 
 But to return : upon his arrh'a i f fnlh °d hi' T 
 to learn fo much of the language as S enable him t'n I 
 m conversation and Audy more^horoughi; hf geni" ofTh: 
 people. Foreigners are unanimous in^llowing^ the EnUft 
 language to be the moft difficult to learn of a'ny n Europe 
 Some have fpent years in the ftudy to no purpofe but 7uS 
 was the application and fuch the memory of our poet, hat in ' 
 fix weeks he was able to fpeak it with tolerable prop iety n 
 ihort his eondua in this particular was fuch as may fer^ for " 
 model to future travellers. The French who before v S this 
 inand, were never at the trouble of attaining our language bu 
 contented w..^^. bare y defcribing the b.ildinfs and p lacef of the 
 kingdom and tranforib.ng a charader of the people from for- 
 mer travellers, who were themfol.es unacquainted wi^h ou 
 i^at.cna pecuhant:es. Accordingly we find few of their books 
 in which the Engufl. are not charaderi.ed as morofo, mdat 
 cl olhs exceffive lovers of pudding, and haters of mankind 
 
 vrT'"'-^'^' ^^"^'"^^'^ Scalier to 
 
 Muralt, while the virtues and vices which were peculiar to the 
 
 country were wholly unknown. Voltaire quickly perceived 
 that pride iccmcd to be our charaderiilic quality, fo'rcl 
 from Whence v,-e derived our excellencies as well as our defect! 
 He perceiveu that rne only way to unde.ftand the Englifh was 
 to learn their language, adopt their manners, and evL toTp! 
 P laud their oddities. With this view, when fofficiently inl 
 t.ateu iiuo our language, he joined in companies of every Vank 
 ords poets and art.zans were focceffively vifited ; and he at- 
 tained at tnc nimc tunc a proliciciicy m our language, laws and 
 
 t^;overnment, 
 
 Mag. n/e of Voltaire. 481 
 
 government, and thorough infight into our national char.naer. 
 enlZtn T- T ^"'^ •'"'"''■•S ^"^^ been 
 
 deftuute of tafte, and our men of wit, known not even by 
 name among the hterat. He was the firft foreigner who faw 
 
 ihl T?r"' ^'/T' °^ Shakefpear, gave Milton 
 
 the charaaer he deforved, fpoke of every Engl iil poet with 
 fome degree of applaufo, and opened a new page of beauty to 
 he eyes of his attonifoed countrymen. It is to him we owe 
 that our language has taken place of the Italian among the 
 polite, and that even ladies are taught to admire Milton, Pope , 
 and Otway The greateft part of our poet's time, during a 
 reiidence of two years in England, was fpent at Wandfworth, 
 the feat of his excellency Sir Everard Falkentr. With this 
 gentleman he had contraded an intimacy at Paris : and as Sir 
 i-verard had infifted upon his company before he left France 
 he now could not refufo. Here he fpent his time in that tran- 
 quility and learned eafo v/hich arc fo grateful to men of fpecu- 
 Jation J had leifure to examine the difference between olt 20- 
 yernment and that of which he was born a fobjea ; and to 
 improve, by our example, his natural pafTion for liberty. He 
 was rcfolvcd however to give fome lafting teftimony of that 
 love which he had for freedom and which has ever made one of 
 the ftrongeft features in his charaaer. The elder Brutus, con- 
 oemning his own fon in its caufe, feemed a fine fubjea for 
 this purpofe, and naturally foited to the Britifh theatre. The 
 hrlt aa of this play he accordingly wrote in Englifh, and com- 
 municated it to his friends for their approbation. It was fome- 
 what furpnfingto find a Granger, who had refided in the coun- 
 try but one year, attempt fo arduous an undertaking ; but flill 
 more fo to find him fkilled in the beauties and force of our 
 bngua^e. The reader may be pleafed to fee how he wrote in 
 Enghlh; he makes Brutus, in the fecond foene of the firft aa, 
 thus vindicate the caufe of freedom. 
 
 « Bndus. Alledge not ties, his {Tarquln's) crimes have broke 
 them all. The Gods themfelves, whom he has offended, have 
 declared againft him. Which of our rights has he not trod 
 upon ? True, we have fv/orn to be his fubjeas, but we have 
 not fworn to be his flavcs. You fay you've feen our fenate in 
 humble Uippliancc pay him here their vows. Even here him- 
 leif has fworn to be our father, and make the people happy in 
 his guidance. Broke from his oaths, we are let loofe from 
 ours ; fince he has tranfgreffed our laws, his the rebellion, 
 Kome 15 free from guilt." 
 
 Q,q q 2 This 
 
48? tife^f:'N6\t^itt:. Lad/^ 
 
 This tragedy be afterwards completed in .■Freacb ; and at 
 Pan* It met with Uifc fttjs he had forefeen, Nq piec6 was ever 
 tranflated into a greater number of foreign languages, more, 
 liked by ftrangers, .or more decried at home. He dedicates it 
 to my lord Bolingbrokej and, as the dedication csntains a fine 
 parrallel between the Englilh and French theatres, I ftiail beg 
 leave to tranflate (bme part of it here. 
 
 " As it was too ve:iturous an innovation, my lord, to at- 
 tempt to write a tragedy in French without rhyme, and take, 
 fuch liberties as are allowed in England and Italy, I was at 
 leaft determined to tranfpflant thofe beauties from the Englifh 
 ftage which I thought not incompatible wi.h French regukrity. - 
 Certain it is the Englifli theitre is extremely defeaive. I have 
 heard yourfelf fay there was fcarce a perfea tragedy in the, 
 language, but to- compenfate this, you have ffveral fcertes 
 which are admirable. Almoft all your tragic writers have been' 
 Jikewife deficient in that regularity andfimplicity of plot, that 
 propriety of di£tion, that elegance of ftile, and thofe hidden, 
 firokes of art, for which we are remarkable fince the times of 
 Corneille. However your mofl: irregular pieces have a peculiac 
 merit } they excell in adion, while ours arc frequently tedious, 
 declamations, and at bed converfation rather than a piaure 
 of paffion, Our excefiive delicacy often puts us upon making 
 an uninterefting recital of what fhould rather be reprefented to 
 the eyes of the fped^iator. Our poets are afraid to hazard any 
 thing new before an audience compofed of fuch as turn all 
 that Is not the into , ridicule. 
 
 '< Ths inconvenience of our theatre alfo is another caufe 
 that our reprefentations fre^juently appear dryland unenter- 
 taining. The fpecftators being allowed to fit on the ftage, de-; 
 $roy almoft all propriety, of Adion. For this reafon° thofe 
 decorations which are fo miich recommended by the antients! 
 can be but very rarely introduced. Thus it happens that tha 
 afters can never uafs rrom.on(j Gpartm;?nt Into another with-; 
 out being feen by the audience, and all the atrical illufionrnuft 
 confcqiienciy be dedroyed. ' _ • 
 
 " How could we, forinftance, introduce the ghcft of Pom- 
 pey, or the genius of Brutus,, into the midll o/ a parcel Qf 
 young fcllowr. crowded upon the theatre, and who only ftaud 
 there to laugh at that i& tranfaa;d ? How could we, as the 
 iate Mr. Addilbn has done, have the body of Marcus boirn ia- 
 wpon the ftagC before hi^ father? If he fiiould hazard a repre-T 
 (cntatiqn;of tiiis nature, the. whole pit. would rife^again^l: tlia 
 poet, and the ladies themfclves woatd be ajjt to. bide theic 
 U^- .-: r. p ' 
 
 With 
 
 Mag. , 1^7^ ^/ Volmire,^'- , g 
 
 « The French would never fufFer a chorus comoofed of 
 plebeians and artizans to appear upon the theatre Z SnnU 
 they permit the body of cSfar to^be exnafed or T 
 excited from the ro/rum. Cuftom, thT'qt A o tt ^oS 
 Changes at pleafure the tafte of nations, and turns -fie flurS 
 of joy often into objefts of difguft. sources 
 Greeks have exhibited objeas upon their ftaee that 
 rr^A '^Sufting to a French audience. H Zli^^^^^ 
 
 forth the moft, lamentable cries. Philoaetes appears with h"s 
 wound open ..and the black gore ftreaming from it. Sou 
 covered with the blood which ilowed from the fockeW^ s 
 eyes complains both of gods and men. I„ a w,^d, many^f 
 the Greek tragedies abound with exaggeration. ^ 
 
 f '^"°f^.^ ^^^^ Greeks and the Englilh 
 
 if w^rS J Tt' -M what is (hocking inff S 
 
 for^art MK' T^^'' ^^^S^ft'^g ^"d the incredible 
 for what Ihould have been tragic and marvellous. The art of 
 
 aZ '''^r^- ^^^^"^ ^" ^he time of ^fchylus, 
 
 and at London m the trme of Shakefpear. However, both 
 
 wrthTfi'ne o.:h°?"' « their faults,, frequently a W 
 J^S, .f ' ^^tftnl^eus with beauties beyond the 
 
 ^utf' .u'-'^f--' -^^"^^ Frenchmen, who, Lly ac! 
 quaintea with tranflations or common report pretend to cen- 
 
 frr'^r^'t ^°'f^^^^/.«''^""ble the blind ma'n ?vho fhodd af- 
 
 '-^^y ^--^^ p--- the 
 
 " But, though fometimes the two nations of which I am 
 fpeakingtranfcend the bounds of propriety, and prefen us with 
 objeas o afi^right inftead of terfor,^ wef on tfe other hrn^ 
 as fcrupulous as they are rafh, flop flaort of beauty for feaTof 
 being earned beyond it; and f.ldom arrive at the patheticTfor 
 fear of tranfgreffing its bounds. t"'t»^"c, ror 
 
 « I am by no means for having the fiheatre become a place 
 Pf carnage as we onen find in Shakefpear, and his fucceLs, 
 
 _ who. 
 
4^4 To Mrs. Stanhope. Lady's 
 
 who, deftltuteof his genius, have only imitated his faults- 
 but ft.ll I mfift, that there are numberlefs incidents which ma^ 
 at prefent appear fhocking to a French fpeftator, which ?f 
 fetoff ^y,th elegance of didion and propriety of rep region 
 
 wrote in this dry manner, where moft'oTthe"^^ rifcenS 
 
 fpecW But by obferving our tragedies, like a (killful ar! 
 t,ft, he joined their fire to French corredtnefs, and formed I 
 manner peculiarly his own. lormea a 
 
 In ftudies of this nature he fpent his time at Wandfworth 
 ftill employed either in improving himfelf in our language or 
 borrowmg us beauties to tranfplant into his own. His^ours 
 of diffipafon were generally fpent among our poets, Con- 
 §re.e. Pope Young, &c. or among fuch of ou^ nobilky as 
 were remarkable either for arts or arms, as Pcterborrow Ox! 
 ford, and Wal,>ole He was frequently heard to fay, t^at Pe- 
 terborrow had taught him the art of defpifmg richel Wa pole 
 the art of acquiring them, but Harley alone^he fecret of be- 
 ing contented. ^ v-ici or ue^ 
 
 [To he continued.] 
 
 To Mrs. Stanhope. 
 
 rriH^. ,avourable reception you condefcended to give an 
 JL epiftle of mine upon female charity, emboldens me to 
 approach you a fecond time upon a different fubjea, but no 
 lefs interefting to our fex, whofe caufe you have efpoufed with 
 io much wit and good nature. It is upon that great but too 
 common error in parents, who feem to think that happinefs 
 conhfts in grandeur, and who barter their childrens future peace 
 to place them in an exalted ftation, or to procure them an afflu- 
 ent fortune. In order to evince the truth of this remark 
 permit me to relate the hiflory of a young lady, which many 
 as well ;:s myfclf can af^rm to be true. 
 
 Semanthe 
 
 Mag. To Mrs. Stanhope; 415 
 
 Sem'anthe was the youngeft daughter of a merchant whom I 
 fhall call Arcafto ; he beltowed a very liberal education upon 
 hischi dren, but Semanthe foon gave convincing prbofs that 
 ftie had a g6nius far furpaffing that of her three fifters, by the . 
 proficiency fhe made in every accompliflimeilt : fhe was about 
 twelve years of age, when Antonio a young merchant came 
 upon fome bufinels to her father : he was introduced into the 
 appartmpnt where the family was fitting; but he had not re- 
 inained Iqng there before ths fine perfon of Semanthe attraft- 
 ed his notice, ind his admiration was greatly encreafed by the 
 ready wit With which flie anfwered feveral of his queftions. 
 At his taking leave he begged permiffion to vifit them a fecond 
 tipie, : which requeft being granted, he frequently waited on 
 them, which gave him an. opportunity of difcovering fome 
 new and valuable qualifications in the fair objea of his afFec- ' 
 tions. As he traded very confiderably to the Weft-Indies, his 
 affairs required his prefence abroad, but he could not depart 
 till he had made Arcafto acquainted with his love for his a- ' 
 miable daughter; he therefore alked his confent to make Se- 
 manthe his wife. ; • . 
 
 Arcafto informed him (he was too young to entertain fuch 
 though^s at prefent, but, if he would ftay till his return from 
 his intended voyage, he would embrace the propofal with gra- 
 titude and pleafure, the. propofal being, ra- match fuperior t6 
 his molt fangume expeitations. He then went into his daugh- 
 ter s appartmcnt accompanied by Antonio, and prefentincr him' 
 to her, acquainted her, that was the gentleman defigned for 
 her buftjand when he returned from the Weft-Indies, and afk- 
 ed her if fhe approved of his choice. She anfwered, that all 
 his commands were laws to her, and fliould be obey'd without 
 reludtance. , t 
 
 Antonio, tranfported with this anfwer, and having obtained 
 ^rcalto s confent, embarked foon after in high fpirits, fecure 
 as he thought of the pcffefSon of his admired Semanthe at his 
 return : but alas ! how unftable is all human happinefs ; when 
 he arrived in the Weft-Indies he fent over feveral prefents of 
 jery great value to Semanthe and her family; but Arcafto, far 
 from being grateful for thofe proofs of Antonio's regard, was 
 uling all his paternal.authority to feparate them for ever. Se- 
 manthe was feen at the church fhe ufually frequented by Ava- 
 rio, who fell defperately in love with her. As he was poffefTed 
 of an immenfe fortune, he thought his addrelTes would be ac- 
 cepted of, he therefore waited on Arcafto the next day, and 
 difcoi'ered the pafTion he had conceived for his daughter. Ar- 
 cafto 
 
t H E ' • 
 
 LADY^s MAGAZINE^ 
 
 For JULY, 1761. 
 
 ^ The Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 1 ^rtt**^' H E firft time he vifited Mr. Congreve, he met 
 t Fm^^ ^ I with a reception very different from what he 
 I ? T ? * ^^''P^'^^''- 'T^e -Engli/h o'ramatift, grown 
 1-^ y^, I rich by means of his profeffion, affcded to 
 * hMHM I ^^^'P^^ and aiFured Voltaire, that he chofe 
 *^'**f ■***4'*4' rather to be regarded as a gentleman than a 
 poet: This was a meanneft which fomewhaf difeufted the" 
 Frenchman, particularly as he himfelf owed all his reputation 
 to his excellence in poetry • he therefore informed Mr. Con- 
 grevey that his fame as a writer was the only inducerti'ent he 
 had to fee him ; and though he could condefcend to defire 
 the acquaintance of a man of wit arid learning, he was above 
 foliating the company of any private gentleman whatfoever. 
 The refledtion of another, upon this occafion was, that he cer- 
 tamly is beloW the profeffion who prefumes to think himfeff 
 above it; 
 
 Mr. Voltaire has ofteri told his frierids, that he neVer ob- 
 fcrved in himfelf fuch a fucceffion of oppofite paffions as hfc • 
 experienced upon his firft interview with Mr, Pope, Wheh 
 ]k firft entered the room, and perceived our poor melancholy 
 ±.ngli(h poet, naturally deformed, and wafted as hewasviath ' 
 fjcknefs and ftudy, he could not help regarding him with theut- 
 moft compaifion. But, when Pope began to fpealc,and to reafort 
 
 -B upon 
 
 ^^4 
 
\ i/7<r of Voltaire. Lady's 
 
 in the moft charming diftion, Voltair-s pity began to be 
 changed into admiwion, and at laft even into envy! It is not 
 uncommon wuh him to affert, that no man ever Jleafed him 
 
 wjln'*" V * "°''y/°°"»°"ly 'old of bis being in company 
 Tni^ . . ^''ii'l^^ ?'^"'^ ^^'^^ *he converfation hap- 
 
 pencd to turn upon Milton's Paradife. He difpJayed, as the 
 
 v^r/Jr' 1- in condemning the allegorical 
 
 perfonageswhich Milton has introduced into his poem, and 
 this with tliji utraoft vivacity and unbounded freedom of fpeech. 
 Upon which Young, regarding him with a fixed eye, fpoke 
 the following epigram. ^ ^ 
 
 So very witty, wicked, and fo thin; 
 
 Fit emblem fure of Milton, death, and fin. 
 
 ^f'^^ver, ! on]y mention this to ftew what trifles are <*e- 
 
 wretchednefs of the epigram will readily convince thofe who 
 have any pretenfions to tatte, that Drf Young could nrve^ 
 !Slr'.:i^rt;X'^'^^'°'"^ blockheadU the ve. 
 
 .n^nT^K^'rr'''''^^u'*'°''^ patronized him or 
 
 en oiled themfe ves m the number of his friends, was tho 
 dMtchefs of Marlborough. She found infinite pleaLre in the 
 agreeable vivacity of his converfation j but miffook his levity 
 for want of principle. Such a man feemed to her the pro- 
 pereft perfon to digeft the memoirs of her life ; which, !v^n 
 fo early as this Ihe had an inclination of publifhin.. She 
 propofed the tafk accordingly to him, and he readily undertook 
 to oblige her. But when fhe fliewed him her materials, and 
 began to dictate the ufe fhe would have them turned to, Vol- 
 taire appeared^no longer the good natured complying creature 
 which fhe took him for. He found fome charafteis were to be 
 blackened without jufl grounds, fome of her anions to be vin- 
 dicated tnat defervedcenfure, and a miflrefs to be expofed to 
 whom fhe owed Infinite obligations. Our poet according y 
 remonflrated with her grace, and feeme^d to intimate the fn- 
 confiftcncy of fuch a conduit with gratitude and jufticej he 
 gravely allured her that the publication of fecrets which were 
 communicated under the feal of friendfhib, would give the 
 world no high opmioa of herjMrals. He was thus continn- 
 
 ins 
 
 Mag." Life of Vokairc. ^ 
 
 ing his difcourfe, when the dutchefs, qtiite in a palHon, 
 fnatched the papers out of his hands : I thought, faid fhfe, the 
 man had fenfe, but I find him at bottom either a fool Or a 
 philofophcr. . 
 
 He was but two years in England, as has been Kinted al- 
 ready ; yet it is fomewhat ftrange to think,, how much he ei- 
 ther wrote publifhed or fludied during fo fhort a refidence. 
 He gave amongfl h?^ friends a criticifm he had wrote in Eng- 
 jifh upon Milton, which he concludes in this manner. « It 
 requires reach thought to difcover the defeats of Milton ; 
 his excellencies lie obvious to every capacity ; he attones for a 
 few faults by a thqufand beauties; and, like fatan, the hero 
 , of his own poem, even when fallen he .wears, the appearance 
 of majeily." 
 
 But the performiince upon which he founds his mofl lafling 
 lhare of fame was publifhed in this country. The French lan- 
 guage had hitherto been deemed unfufceptible of the true epic 
 dignity. Several unfuccefsful attempts by Ronferd Chapelaineand 
 'others had made critics defpair of ever feeing an heroic poem 
 in the language ; and fome writers had laid it down as adlually 
 impollible. Voltaire, who feemed. to be born to encounter 
 difficulty, undertook the tafk, and) that at an age when plea- 
 fiire is apt to filence the voice of airfbltion. This poem, which 
 is now well known by the name of the Henriade, was firft 
 publifhed under the title of the League. He began it in the 
 Baftille, enlarged and corroded it for feveral years afterwards, 
 and had fome thoughts of publifliing it in France. Upon 
 fliewing the manufcript to Fontenelle his friend, he was by 
 him advifed to retrench feveral pafTages which Icemed to be 
 written with too watm a fpirit of liberty under fuch a govern- 
 ment as theirs : but Voltaire, who confidered thofe very paf- 
 fages as the greatefl beauties of his work, was refolved the poem- 
 fhould make its firft appearance in a (country in love with liber- 
 ty, and ready to praife every performance written in hs defence. 
 With this view he brought the work over wiihhim to England, 
 and offered it in the ufual manner to a bookfeller in order to be 
 publiflied. The bookfelle ■, as fome pretend, either unacqvaint- 
 ed with its value, or willing to impofe upon a ftranger, offered 
 him but a trifle for the manufcript, and would print only fuch 
 a number as he thought proper. Thefe were terms with which 
 the author chofe not to comply j and, confidering the number 
 and the rank of his friends, he was refolved to publifh it by 
 fubfcription. A fubfcription was opened accordingly, and 
 quickly filled with pcrfons of the firfl rank and eminence, not 
 
 B 2 I only 
 
4 Life of Voltaire. • Lady'^ 
 
 only of Great-Britain, but of Europe in gpnera!. A condi- 
 tion of the propof.ls was, that, the fubfcribers fhould have 
 their books a montli before it was publiflied in the -ordinary 
 manner in London. Jn. this fituation were things when an 
 \i;iiorefeen accident called our poet ou of the l;ingdom, being 
 Itnt for by M. D'Argenfon, prime Minifter of France, in or- 
 der to become the king's hifturiographcr. Voltaire was there- 
 fore obliged to return with reludl^mce home, leaving; to his 
 bookfcUer the care of fatisfying the fubfcribers. Voltaire 
 however affirms that the bookfcller, conficcrir.g that there 
 was no great difference between reading a book a month fooner 
 or laver, \ya5 rcfolved to indulge the cuiirfity of the public 
 f.rft, and gratify the fubfcribers after. As by this means the 
 'profits accruing from the faie, which were to be his own, 
 , would be greatly encrcafed. The reader may judge , for 
 himfelf wdiethcr this is not the tr«e reafon why the fubfciibers 
 to the Henriade had not the v.-nrk til} a month after it was 
 firit pubiifhed in London ; and not againil rhe author but his 
 bookfcller (hculd their ccnfuie be levelled. It c:;nnot be conr 
 cxived what a number of e.iiemijs this raifed Voltaire; for 
 all imputed to him that meannefs of Tvhich thofe who arc of 
 his acquaintance know him to be utterly incapable. A ne- 
 
 racier in general, tnat nc has frequently been guuty or indncrcti- 
 ons, but neverof meannefs. 'A mind employed in the contempla- 
 tion of great virtues is fometinies guilly of triflng abfurdiiics, 
 cjnas aut incuria fidit, aut humana parum cavit I'atura. An 
 honeft vmn may fomccinits unite with fuch as will render his 
 actions fufpefted, but then it is the fault of good rhindfi to be 
 too credulous, and, inftead of condemning "fuch a man'of 
 fa' (hood, we Ihould pity his good nature. 
 
 The poem was dedicated to Qj^ieen Caroline, for which fhc 
 made the a.ithor a prefent of her piilure valued at tv.'o hundred 
 Cuineas. The dcdicaiion breaths a fpirit which at once cha^ 
 raclerizes the poet, the phi;ofophcr, and the man of virtue;' 
 ai-d fome prefer it even to any part of the fucceeding perform- 
 r.r.ce. It muft beconfeiied the tlenriade has its faults ; its in- 
 cidents in genera! do not fufFiciently intereft or furprize ; it 
 fcldom rifcs to the fublime, though it never fall:, into flatncf.s. 
 The moral reflections return too t'equently, and retard that 
 fpecd which is one of the greatcfl beauties of narration. 
 H iwever, with ali its faults, the French regard it as the firft' 
 epic poem in their language, and though (national partiality 
 
 i'.id 
 
 Mag. Hijlory of C- unt Chateaubriant. 5 
 
 iaid afide) it finks infinitely below Milton; yet it will be fuf- 
 ificient to gain the author ihmiortality. 
 
 Upon his return home, he found his fame greatly encreafed, 
 the priinc niihiftcr of I'Vance himfelf being proud of ranking 
 among the numKcr of his friends. Scarce a country of Europe 
 from which the learned did not fend, him their acknowledge- 
 ments for the picafure and iiif}ru(Elion they had received froni 
 his lail performance. The king of Fiance ufed fi'equently to 
 entreat the pleafure of hi:, conipany, fur he found in him one 
 who had learned from the Englifl) ^ treat monarchs with aa 
 h'uiell: freedom, and who difdained thofe mean fubmiflions 
 which at once render kings proud and mi'erable. Had our po- 
 et been inclined to make a large forture, had he been that a- 
 varicious wretch which his enemies have often repre'entcd 
 him, he had now all opportunity of gratifying his molt fan- 
 gtiine expectation?/ But lie was born fee, and had imbibed 
 the privileges of a man and a philofopher. Ambition could 
 not bribe him to forfeit his birth-right, and he difdained be- 
 coming great at the expence of his liberty. Tiie king, as I 
 mentioned, would frequently dcfire his conipany ; but Voltaire 
 came only when he thought proper, Sometimes he would 
 beg of his ma eity to excufe hi; attendance, as he had made 
 an appointment elfevvherc ; fometimes he would return for an- 
 fwer, that he was detained by MaJan.ie du Chatelet, and could 
 not poflibly come. Thefe excufcs the king generally receive^ 
 with the utmoil good humour, and never upon Voltaire's ap- 
 pearance refented his former refufal. The truth is, the king 
 Joved a companion who had wit enough to amufe him, and 
 good fcnfe enough not to turn his familiarity into abufe. But, 
 about this 'time there was flill a greater honour done to out 
 poet's merit than he had ever yet received, though kings and 
 i)rinces had already confpi:ed to raife his reputation. 
 
 [To be continued] 
 
 ^ The Hiftory of the Count of ChateAubriant, from 
 f a Latin Manufcript. 
 
 IN all the kingdoms of France, there was not a prouder or 
 a braver man than Chateaubriant. L'e had fought maiiy 
 campaigns, and even at the age twenty-five, could count. five 
 hundred wounds, which he had received in di/FcrentJ parts . of 
 ■ . - I his 
 
MISCELLANEOUS MEMOIRS. 
 
 fliip the Hamplhirc, ofF the Guanave, 
 the i6th of June, that having intelli- 
 gence that feveral (hips of war of the 
 enemy had failed from Port Louis the 
 cihof June; as alfo that the St. Anne 
 French fhip of war had failed from 
 Port-au-Prince on the fatae day, he 
 difpofed feveral (hips of his fquadron 
 in fuch manner, as he thought moft 
 likely to meet with ^ofe of the ene- 
 my : That in the morning of the 13 th, 
 the Hamplhire fell in with the St, 
 Anne to windward, and chafed her 
 light down upon the Centaur to 
 Leeward. Upon difcovering the Cen- 
 taur, the St. Anne hauled up, and 
 was kept between the two fliips till 
 
 {he was run clofe in (hore, and be;- 
 calmed, about a league to the north- 
 ward of Dona Maria Bay, when Ihe 
 beg^n to fire her ftern chace.. Soon 
 after one o'cbck, the Centaur eot 
 clofe along -fide the St. Anne, when, 
 {he ftruck her enfign. She is a very^ 
 fine Ihip, conftrufted for fixty-four 
 guns, and had on board fix 24 poun- 
 ders, twenty fix 12 pounders, and 
 eight 8 pounders, with 389 perfons ; 
 was commanded by M, Aguillon, and 
 was carryii^g home a cargo of indigo, 
 coffee, and fugar, to the value of onfc 
 million of French livres. Mr, Hol- 
 mes fent her to Jamaica. 
 
 MlSCEJl^LANEOUS MEMOIRS. 
 
 lion o^ grenadiers, which fuffered 
 Berlin, July 14, 1761. ^^^Yi in the adions at Strehlen and 
 
 young: Woman, aged 23. Torgau. ^.'^^ff A'S! 
 
 ^^■Z o( atrown complexion, ' Ihe receive^two woun^ds m the h^^^^^ 
 % A -f and ftrong features, who wasjnade prifoner, and fent to the hof- 
 
 her regiment, Ihe enlifted in a batta- no longer. , . 
 
 tJd lik/to%a f artkukr ac»u.t of our kte glcrwus Jucceff^u * 
 
 I <fJ^_M_>§( M ^ 5^ ^ ^ )5f w Vl r 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY'S MAGAZINE, 
 
 For august, 1761. 
 
 The Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 r^rtr**! «E houfe of Brandenburgh had been for feme 
 t * ^^^^ acquiring ftrength and power in Ger- 
 
 f* %TW f ^^'^ Frederick 11. fat -upon 
 
 ^ ^ 1 the thrcne of PruiEa, a monarch, born to be 
 I kJi^HM I the father and yet the terror of his fubjeas. 
 
 All his family, his children as well as his 
 domeftics, feared, and fometimes felt the weight of his dif- 
 pleafure. He was arbitrary in all his commands; and though 
 his delires were frequently bent upon trifles, none in all his 
 court were found who were hardy enough to remonftrate, or. 
 had courage to lend him advice when he moft wanted it. 
 There was however found, at laft, one refolved to offer his 
 remonftrances though the confequence threatened "unremit- 
 ting difpleafure. The Prince Royal, his fon, took this liber- 
 ty, and fometimes Ihewed the king, with the r^oft defe- 
 rence, the dangers attending an excefs of avarice, and the 
 whimfical abfurdity of employing foldiers only for fhew. This 
 condua was immediately conftrLred into difobedience, and this 
 brought on fuch feverity of treatment that the prince was re- 
 folved to leave the kingdom and fly for proteaion to England. 
 It is not the bufinefs of this memoir to rtention the accidents 
 by which his intentions were fruftiated, nor the miferies he 
 eliayed in feeing hisdeareft friends, who were . partners of , his 
 ^^OL.IIL H • defiga,. 
 
I 
 
 50 ■ Life of Voltaire. Lady's 
 
 dcfign, facnficed on the fcafFold, be It fufficfent to fay that he 
 was now put into clofc confinement, in which he felt many 
 years of fevere captivity. The fchool of mifery is the fchool of 
 wifdom. Inftead of nurfing up his mind in indolence, or m- 
 dulging forrow, he refined his underftanding by books at firft 
 his only companion?, and when indulged in greater liberties, 
 the learned of whom he was fond had leave to vifit him. Thus 
 did this youth of genius fpend his time, among philofophers, 
 and men ofvirtue and learned from them the hardeft of all arts, the 
 art of being a king. Happy! were all monarchsthus inftrudted, 
 inftead of diffipating their hours in the arms of a proltitute, or 
 liftening to the voice of flattery which often wears the mark of 
 blunt honefty the better to deceive, did they ftudy mankind 
 from the middle ranks of life, and even fometimes condefcend 
 to feel what wretches feel, kings might then indeed be ufeful ! 
 The Henriade of Voltaire reached our philofophic prince in 
 his retreat. He read it, was charmed with the poem and 
 wiftied for the poet. He had himfelf already wrote fome me- 
 taphyfical effays upon the nature of the ioul in anfwer to 
 Horebow. He had alfo diverted himfelf at intervals by tran- 
 llating fome of the latin poets, or compofing fomewhat of 
 his own; but he wanted a friend whofe judgement might be 
 relied on to whom he could communicate his produftions, and 
 who had a capacity to amend them. He had already fcveral 
 learned men with him in his retreat, but they were rather 
 philofophers than poets, he wanted a companion who could 
 unite both the charaders, who had lolldity to inftrudt 
 when he dcfigned to be fcrious, and vivacity to unbend his 
 mind when fatigued with ftudy. Voltaire feemed to him 
 adapted to both ihofe purpofcs ; he was therefore refolved 
 to give him an invitation to Pruffia, which would at leaft, 
 ferve to commence a correfpondence with a man by whofe 
 inftruftions or wit he muft either be diverted or improved. 
 
 The prince of PrufnatoMr. Voltaire. 
 
 Sir, Aug^jft 3- ^n^- 
 
 Though I have not the pleafure of being perfonally ac- 
 quainted with you, yet am I intimate with your writings. 
 They contain all the treafures of genius, if 1 maybe allowed the 
 expreflion, and as exhauftlefs as the mine give new objeds of 
 admiration upon every repeated perufal. I fancy that in them 
 I fee the charadler of their ingenious author, a man doing 
 honour to the age, and even to humanity. The moderns 
 
 may 
 
 Mag. Life of Voltaire. 51 
 
 may probably, one day owe you their obligations, if ever the 
 difpute between ancient and modein merit fliould happen to 
 revive, for your merit alone will turn the balance in our fa- 
 vour. 
 
 To all the excellencies of a poet you add all the knowledge 
 of a philofcpher, unite charafters always allied, but never 
 combind but in your own perfon. No poet before gave poeti- 
 cal harmony to metaphyfics, and taught the moft abftrufe 
 fciences to charm, fuch labours were refcrved only for you. 
 The turn your v/ritings manifell: towards philofophy impel mc 
 to fend you a tranflation which I have juft dravv'n up of th(^ ac- 
 cufation and defence of Mr. Wolf, one of the mcft celebrated 
 philofophers of the prefcnt age. This great man, for hav- 
 ing penetrated into the darknefs of metapiiyfics, for having 
 treated fubjefls, before obfcuie, with clearneis, accuracy and 
 precifion, is cruelly branded with the charader of atheifni 
 and irreligion ; fuch is the fate of all who greatly venture after 
 truth ; their fuperior g'^nius expofes them t ) all the envenomed 
 (hafts of concealed calumny and envy levelled from the 
 dark. 
 
 I am at prcfent employed in tranflating a piece of the fame 
 author's, intituled a treatife upon God, the Soul, and the 
 World. When finiflied, I lhall take the libtrty of fending 
 it alfo, and I am convinced you will feel the force of its evi- 
 dence. As ail the propofitions rife demonftratively out of 
 each other, and are connecled like the links of a chain. 
 
 The gentlenefs, and the regard which you teftify to all 
 thofe who devote themfelves to the art'; or fciences, gives me 
 to hope that I (hall not be excluded from the number of thofe 
 who find happinefs in your inftrudions. A correfpondence 
 with you muft certainly improve every human being that pre- 
 tends to be rational. Without flattery, which is unworthy 
 your acceptance, or my ofFeiing, there is none of your works 
 in which I do not find beauties without number. The Hen- 
 riade charms me, and gains an happy conqueft over all the 
 criticifms which have been wrote in order to IcfTen its repu- 
 , tation. The tragedy of Casfar is a fine inflance of charaders 
 fupported to the laft with dignity. The fentiments are grand, 
 the world may perceive that Brutus fpeaks like a Roman, or 
 like an Englifli-man. Alzira adds, to the charms of novelty, 
 an happy contraft between the manners of an unformed favage 
 and a civilized European. You exhibit in the character of 
 Gufman, fine inftances, that chriftianity ill underftood and 
 
 H 2 guided 
 
 ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
Life of YoWivc: Lady's 
 guided by a falfe zeal, renders mankind more barbarous and 
 , cruel than paganifm itfeJf. 
 
 Corneilie, the great Corneille, he who has attrafted the 
 admiration of all the polite world, fhould he revive in our 
 days, might fee with furprizc, perhaps with envy, that the 
 dramatic mufe, fo fparing of her favours to him, has lavifhed 
 them upon you with profufion. What have we not a rieht to 
 expea froin an author of fuch various excellence ? what new 
 wonders fhall we not fee flowing from his pen who has already 
 trac;;d out every beauty in the Temple of Tafte 
 
 It is this which makes me fo paffionately defirous of feein? 
 all your works. Let me entreat you fir to fend them tome 
 and to communicate them all without referve. If amonc vour 
 manufcripts there be any which you think prudent to conceal 
 I prom.fe to preferve them with tlie moft fecret circumfpeaion' 
 and (hall be content v/ith admiring without a partner of mv 
 pleafure. I knowj (my own misfortunes have taught me 
 the leflbn) that the faith of princes is but little lefpeaed in 
 our days. However I hope you will not fufPer yourfelf to be 
 influenced by prejudices, or at leaft that you will make an ex- 
 ception to the general rule in my favour. 
 
 I fliall eilecm myfelf richer in the polTeffion of your works 
 . than in all the tranfitory defpicable gifts of fortune. Chance 
 has beftowed them, and (he ftme chance can take them awav 
 1 our works may be made my own ; and they fhall be my com- 
 panions wh;lc I have memory. My memory is but indifFe 
 rent, .your works however fnall be the laft leffons that fliall 
 leave it. 
 
 If poetry was now upon the fame footing as formerly, if 
 our poets were employed as then only in compofing filly pafto- 
 rals, infipid ftanzas, gingling out at beft an elegy, I fliould 
 for ever renounce the profeffion. But you have ennobled the 
 art, you have trod unbeaten paths, and fliewn us beauties un- 
 known to and 
 
 Your poetry has fuch qualities, as will render it refpeaable 
 and worthy the admiration of every honeft man. It may be 
 regarded as a courfe of Ethics where we learn how to think 
 and how to behave. Virtue is there painted in the moft en- 
 gaging colours, our idea of true gloiy is there determined ; 
 and a paffion for fcience is fo finely inculcated in every page 
 that the humbleft talents afpire at the ambition of purfuino- 
 your footfleps, in the paths of fame. How often have I faid 
 within myfelf, unhappy man difcontinue a purfuit that fur- 
 paffes your povy^ers, it is impolTible to im.mitate Voltaire without 
 
 being 
 
 Mag. To Mrs. Stanhope. ^3 
 
 being Voltaire himfelf. It is in thefe moments I perceive 
 that the advantages of birth avail but little or indeed nothino- 
 at all. Thefe are diftinaions that are not ours, they may 
 decorate a figure but do not enrich the man. How far fu- 
 perior to fuch idle gewgaws are the endowments of the mind, 
 virtue and wifdom. 
 
 Surely we owe much to thofe whom Nature has taken pecu- 
 Jiar pains in diftinguifhing from the reft of mankind. She 
 does her duty in producing talents capable of improving arts 
 and fciences, it is the duty of princes to reward them. O 
 what glory would I arrogate to myfelf if it were permitted me 
 to crown your fuccefTes. I only fear that a country like mine 
 by no means productive of laurels, would never be able to 
 fupply enough to equal your merits. However, if fortune 
 will never be kind enough to let me have you here entirely 
 to myfelf, at Icift permit me to hope that I fhall one day hnve 
 the pleafure of feeing a man whom I have fo long admired at 
 a diftance, and of afTuring him with my own mouth, that I 
 am, with all the refpea which they deferve who, following the 
 torch of truth, confecrate their labours to the public good, 
 fir, your moft afFeaionate fiiend, 
 
 Frederic Prince Royal of PfiussiA. 
 £To be continued] 
 
 To Mrs. Stanhope, 
 
 Madam, 
 
 As your magazine is chiefly calculated for the ladies, I fend 
 you the following remarks upon a boarding-fchool education 
 for their perufal, who am, 
 
 your humble fervant, 
 
 Prudentia. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 FROM the number of boarding-fchools which are fet up 
 of lace and encouraged in and about this metropolis, one 
 would imagine that the education of young ladies was become 
 the attention and chief ftudy of every parent, yet, when I 
 reflea upon their prefent cuftomsj I cannot help thinking every 
 
 indi- 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
the honour of b v t in:: tr ^- a Bilhopfgate. 
 
 -ho is .!fb id;^"?fc'^^5;' Roberts. Wlo. of 
 
 p .fau ..rchb,,nop ot Cunt.rb.uy J.ad 
 
 vin, jci I iCt OI 
 
 tiie prcfcrnt year k trc to make ecoa a 
 pay;nent of ten per cent, on the laid 
 capital at the SarJ:. 
 
 ^ of Preftrmenis. 
 The RcvJ. Mr. VVilHam Black 
 
 a '"^ m Merchant. 
 lianipl!n.ie. 
 
 His grace tlie Archbifiiop of Can- 
 terbury has collated the Re^d. Mr 
 Corbndge of St. Martins. Ludgate,^ 
 to the vicarage of Figheldcu, near 
 Anuftury m Wiltfliire 
 
 The Revd. Mr. Shrels, THnity- 
 ■ fj''': V^'«b;id.i,e, to the livings 
 o*_ Hohicfs and Burton, ia Dcrfcl- 
 liiire. 
 
 tained his fcnfes to the laft. He was 
 grandlon to Old Par of England, who 
 ^ lived to the age of 15 2 years. 
 
 . Mj^'-y Cooper, an eminent 
 
 ,^bookifl!tr m Pater-noller-rovv. 
 
 Mrs. Franklin, wife of Mr. Frank- 
 aa eminent bookfcller, in Covent. 
 
 ,J':;';^r:.f':.^^g'^>^^n-rfei- 
 
 '"^ip"; „ , , ''^^./>^J:-.fr.Wigley, feniorfel- 
 
 .T)ie Rev_d Ccorgo Tolk, to the ^"'l "'*.<-hrill college. CamUIdPe. 
 
 Mca-^a-cof JpphigLoh, la Ldceilcr- ^^-j"' «^ ^^egworth in Leicefter/hire 
 
 The .^dy t;,e i,oi-,. Mr. OnL T'"-' ^3 eft Rev. Dr. Tohn C.\\\..r,. 
 
 fhirc. -i-t--', c.er- 
 
 Jjirihs. 
 
 The iLdy oi the i.or,. Mr. Choi- 
 mcadclcy wa.JJIvcrcJ 01 a daughter. 
 
 ATaarice ro.naid, hkfj of the In- 
 rcr.lcu!p.c, 10 Mii. B/,oet Cordon, 
 ^I^'^rhur ci Mr. t..,.:j;,, ^,,,S 
 gi.lc-lin;e:. 
 
 ^ The Rcvu. iJr. Lc r^a;nr, vkar of 
 -voiiiguoa la ^.iiK.n,:g!>irc, and 
 ;a^c l^.ow cf St. iWr . College, to 
 
 The nicll Rev. Dr. John Gilbert, 
 archoiliiop ot York, primate of all ' 
 England, lord high almoner to the 
 king, and one of the lords of his 
 majclly's moll hon. privy council, at 
 Moatpeher-row, Twickenham, 
 ^^i nee Fellows. Efq , at Hackney. 
 
 ,Ptrry Mayne, Efq -. formerly ad- 
 miial ol ih.e red, at his feat at Mort- 
 lake la Surry. 
 
 -^The lady of Sir Robert Throck- 
 
 A'— V- , ,. .'• 1-.- r"-'-i,'-> iaivc la wurrv 
 
 ^ ]u:eph?eacock, Efo • tc'l'^fs C-'nr"' 
 ^ ■ ^^^••l^-idlWei.'jun.riL:;;;^; YX^Tr^"^}-^' fi^ddenlyia 
 Vn.cre::a-.u:. Old B..;.:,:,e.t. to ^^.^ ^' r")! °' 
 
 I <M )^ ^ ^ ^ M )8C I 
 
 * I 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY^s MAGAZINE, 
 
 For SEPTEMBER, 1761. 
 
 The Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 Voltaire to the Prince of Prullla. 
 My Lord, 
 
 1*********1 Should be infenfible, were I not infinitely 
 || |ir^te^"3^ * pleafed with the letter with which your Royal 
 
 * ^ T ^ t Highnefs has deigned to honour me. In it I 
 
 * ^ & * found many incentives to felf-Iove, and never 
 
 * stfe.J^^Jti^ ^ ^^'^ fomuch reafonto be pleafed with my own 
 
 performances ; but the love I bear to all man- 
 kind, a paliion which ever lies next my heart, and which, if 
 I may be allowed to judge, conftitutes my charader, raifed in 
 me a pleafure much more fincere and exalted ; when 1 find 
 that there is in the world a prince, who thinks as a man, who 
 afls like a philofopher, and who will one day render my fel- 
 low creatures happy. 
 
 Permit me to aflLre you there is not upon earth a man v/ho 
 does not owe you his thanks for your endeavours to cultivate 
 a mind, born to empire, deferving to command- 
 Be convinced that there was never a king truly .good, who 
 has not firft commenced like you by inftrudting himfelf in his 
 duty, by endeavouring to know mankind, by loving truths 
 by detefting fuperftition and perfecutlon. There never v.^as a 
 prince, who condu6led his youth in this manner that was not 
 capable of recalling among his fubjeils the golden age. Wliat 
 is the caufe then why fo tew kings defire thi?s to excel ? You 
 Vol. III. ' a\ O per- 
 
^ ^ ' of V^OL T A 1 u £ . Lady's 
 
 . ■ perceive, my Ix)rd, the rcafon. l^heir thoughts arc more em- 
 ployed on royalty than humanity. You folW a quite con- 
 trarycondudh Relt affured, that if the intrigue, of a cou t, 
 v^u w-n mankmd do not tarnifh fo divme a charader 
 
 tinn fl .^'^''"^^Phers men who are worthy the appella- 
 
 tion w.l fly ,nto your dominion.- and as arti/ans come in 
 crowds to the country where their refpcaiv. art is moft en- 
 
 The ill uftrious Chriftiiia of Sweden 
 
 the honour of having communicated to me by your Roval 
 H-ghnefs, that they are a,t beft but men. You wiH of en fi^d 
 them as avar.aous, as intriguing, as falfe, and as cruel "s 
 courtiers themfelves. The on!y difference between the pefts 
 of a cou,-t and the pefts of a college is, that the la t e/ aVe 
 more ridiculous. '"uci are 
 
 It is a reflcaion fomewhat mortifying to humanity that 
 the men who profefs themfelves to be ambaffadors Sm he 
 d. vnnty, and .na-rpreters of his will, I mean the divineT Ire 
 
 to h.nk that iuch are often as pernicious in fociety as obfcure 
 n their notions ; as much inflated with cruelty and pride s 
 their minds are void of truth and iuftice Snrh rn„ ' ,1 
 difturb the repoie of all mankind fo Sc;phffo\Td 
 tne monarchsof the earth to vindicate wirS^^fftoTf ^^^^^ 
 honour of an argument in Fero or Baralipton. EverTthink 
 ing being who does not come into their fenrimr-n? 
 athei,^ and every king who refufes to e^^ufc Xi^ quarrd 
 IS configned to damnation. - quarrel 
 
 You are confcious, my Lord, that the beft way of treatin-r 
 tnole pretended teachers but real enemies of mankind,! 
 abandon them to themfelves 5 their areumen-s ar^ I^fl. u 
 ncgleaed, and difperfe like 'th. win^d^ ^m ty" i f b^t if 
 authr,nty adds weight to their wranalinas the ftorm L 
 force, fuch as has often overturned a%l?;^ne 
 
 I perceive, my Lord, with joy, with fuch jov as th- nrofne.^ 
 or un,anwelf^ue,nfpires, the diltinftion /ou make\' tweea 
 thole who, fond of peace arc folicitous only for the truth 
 - and thuf. whu are willing to make war for words/ pe4aps of 
 , - an 
 
 Mag. Life of Voltaire. 9^ 
 
 an equivocal lignification. It is Newton, Leibnitz, Bayle and 
 Locke, who have thus pcrfe£ted your fentiment, and lifted 
 your foul. 
 
 I cannot fufliciently pay my acknowledgments to your Roy- 
 al Highnefs for the favour done me in lisnding me the little 
 treatife concerning Mr. Wolf. 
 
 I regard his metaphyfics as one of the greateft efforts of 
 human genius. They are like flalhes of lightning illuminat- 
 ing a dark nighr, they tell us all that can be expeded from 
 metaphyfic.-;. We have little hopes to expeft that the firft 
 principles of things fhoiild be ever made manifeft. The moufe 
 which refides in fome little hole in a large building, can nei- 
 ther know whether the fabric be eternal, nor who the archi- 
 tea is, nor to what end he raifed the pile. It endeavours to 
 preferve its little life ; to people its hole, and fly thofe ani- 
 mals of prey its natural enemies. What are we but mice ? 
 and the divine Architeft, who has raifed our univerfe, has not 
 hitherto, that I know of, communicated his fecrets to any. 
 If any can give a guefs that feems neareft the truth, it is per- 
 haps Mr. Wolf. His opinions may be controverted, but his 
 wifdom muft be efteemcd, fince his philofophy is far from 
 being pernicious. Can there be any thing more true anS 
 more noble than when he fays, men fhould be juft, even when 
 they arefo unfortunate as to be Atheifts ? 
 
 You have been fo kind, my Lord, as to promife to fend 
 me his treatife upon God, the Soul, and the World. How 
 great the prefent, how honourable the correfpondence ? the 
 heir of a crown deigns from the bofom of his palace to fend 
 his inftruaions to a poor reclufe. Honour me with the pre- 
 fent, my Lord, my paffionate love for truth perhaps renders 
 me worthy the favour. The majority of princes fear even to 
 hear the truth ; your Highnefs is the firft to teach it. 
 
 With refpefl to poetry, your obfervations on this head are as 
 fennble as thofe upon every other occafion. Poetry, v/hich teaches 
 no new or ftriking truth, fcarcely deferves to be read. There 
 is no merit in puttingcommon place fubjeds or fentiments into 
 ryme ; if there be any employment more trifling, it is that of 
 being a fatyrift, and of writing only to decry the works of 
 others. Thofe Poets are in Parnaffus, what dodiors are in 
 the fchools, they underftand only words, and cavil with fuch 
 as write of things. 
 
 If the Henriade has not difpleafed your Royal Highnefs, I 
 muft thank that love of truth, that deteftation of the fadions 
 which breaths throughout my poem. I have not fpared the , 
 
 evil 
 
i 
 
loo Life of Voltaire. Lady** 
 
 evil, the fuperflitious, the tyrant, or tlve rebel ; thefe may be ' 
 rcafons why I have acquired your efteem. It is the work oiF 
 an honeft man, it ought to find grace in the eyes of a philo- 
 fophic prince. 
 
 Yea command me to fend you my other v/orks, I wvW obey 
 you, my Lord. You fliall be my judge, and I will oppofc 
 your opinion to the voice of the public. To you v/ill I lub- 
 mit what I have hazarded in philofophy, your correftions 
 fllall be my recompence, a rccompence that but few fovereigns 
 can beftow. I am convinced ofyour fecrecy, your virtue muft 
 be equal to your vvifdom. 
 
 I fhall regard it as my principal pleafure to be able to come 
 one day to acknov/ledge in perfon the honour your Royal 
 Highnefs has conferred upon me. Men travel to Rome iri 
 order to fee churches, ruins, pictures and bas-reliefs, a prince 
 like you (hould much rather claim the attention and curiofity 
 of travellers, for few rarities of this kind are to be met with, 
 But friendfhip, which endears my prefent retreat, will not at 
 prefent permit me to leave it. You feem to me rather 
 a man than a prince, you will not confequently be offended, 
 piy Lord, if friends are to be preferred even to kings. 
 
 In whatfoever corner of the world I fhall finiflh my courfe, 
 be alTured, my Lord, that I fhall flill put up my prayers for 
 your happinefs, in other words, for the happinefs of your 
 people. I fhall ever rank myfelf among the number of your 
 labjecls, and take every occafion to raife my own glory by 
 doing juftice to yours. That you may ever refemble yourfelf 
 ^nd that king's may iearn to refemble you, is the ardent wifh of^^ 
 
 Sir, Your nioft devoted humble fen ant, 
 
 Voltaire, 
 
 The friend here mentioned was M. la marquife du Chatelet, 
 his dearefl Emilia, as he often called her. Her he regarded as 
 his mcft valuable poiTeffion, preferred her company even to 
 that of kings. He gave flrength to her fcntimcnts, and fha 
 added grace to his. 'fhere is perhaps no fociety more proper 
 to form a poet than that of woman, for eafe and elegance of 
 exprefiioh arc better learned among^ them than form the rhe- 
 torical chair. But the diftinciions paid our pott by majefiy, 
 and the tndearmeiUs he received from friendfliip, oiWy ferved, 
 by encrcatlng envy, to cncreafe the number of his enemies. 
 Some years before this an ecclefiaftic, the Abbe des Fontaines, 
 ()ne,who had foine lif&lc reputation for poeuy, was accufed 
 
 Mag.' i//<? c/ Voltaire. 16} 
 
 of fodomy and expelled his convent upon that fufpicion. Poor 
 and infamous he knew not where to apply for fuccour, frorn 
 his own order he received only reproaches, ;md the public paid 
 his merits but fmall regard. Our poet faw him an ob.eft of 
 compalEon, he imagined it doubly his duty to relieve him, 
 fince he was in diftrefs, and a poet. He therefore procured 
 his indigent brother all the conveniencies of Jife, made ufe of 
 his interefl to clear his reputation, and at lafl efFeftually re- 
 eflablifhed a charaaer which h6 imagined had been ""juftly 
 injured. There are fome obligations too great for gratitude. That 
 is a debt the poor pay as an etjuivalent for favours ; but whea 
 thofe become fo great thdt no grititude can equal, the mind 
 becomes bankrupt and pays wrthehvy inftead of atknovvledg- 
 ments. Such was the cafe of the Abbe des Fontaines ; ahd a 
 man whom fmall obligations might have eteanally bound, be- 
 came an enemy by being too miich obliged. I fhall not pre- 
 tend to fay that Des Fontaines W^s the only perfon m fault 
 upon this occafion. Voltaire might have required a deference 
 which tranfcended the bounds of friendfhip. Des Fontames 
 could only regard him as an equal, and our poet wanted to be 
 treated as ' a fuperior. 
 
 Their friendfhip, as was natural to be expeded, was fooa 
 converted into hatred. They mutually taxed each other with 
 pride and ingratitude, and at laft pleaded before the bar of the 
 public, where each was more felicitous of injuring his oppo- 
 nent than of defending himfelf. Des Fontaines wrote a pam- 
 phlet intitled Anti Volteriana, containing all the little levities 
 of Voltaire's youth, fome true, others taken up on groundlefs 
 report; he added alfo, the faults of his father and his family 
 to encreafe the fam, and exhaufted all that malice could fug- 
 geft upon the occafion. 
 
 But Des Fontaines did not maintain the unequal combat 
 alone. RoufTeau, a man of true genius, whoie odes are per- 
 haps as beautiful as thofe of Horace entered into the confede- 
 racy, and Ramfay ferved to complete the triumvirate. _ ■ 
 In the republic of letters, he who arrogates fuperiority is 
 fure to be difappointed ; in vain he has the voice of the people, 
 that is lofl in idol murmurs ; but the prefs is againfl him, and 
 that fpeaks in charafters far more lafting. Voltaire found 
 himfelf attacked in that part he held moft dear, in his moral 
 charadler. 
 
 He appears fenfibly wounded by his antagonlft, for there 
 is fcarce a fubfequent publication of his which does not make 
 mention of the falfljood er the ingratitude of his enemies. 
 • ■ The/ 
 
102 A Letter from the E. c/ Clarendon Lady's 
 
 They now fought him at a di fad vantage, they felt not his 
 blows for they did not value reputation, while their wounds 
 ftabb'd him to the heart for he had a characaer to lofe. The 
 fame he had acquired for the tragedy of Alzira, ferved to en- 
 creafe their fury, and they only waited an opportunity to renew 
 the aflault. The opportunity was foon given, in the year 
 1736 fome time after the date of the preceeding letters, he 
 publiftied a little poem, intituled La Defenfe du Mondain, or 
 An apology for Luxury. In this he endeavours to prove, 
 that uxuries are rather ferviceable than detrimental to an op- 
 pulent people. This his enemies eagerly caught up, Des 
 Foniaines had intereft with one of his brethern who had an 
 influence on cardinal Fleury, the piece was reprefented to 
 this weak minifter as a libel, as containing many fhocking 
 impieties, and the author as deferving the feverefi: puniihment. 
 Voltaire had fcarce time to make his defence, he was baniftied 
 France, and thus at laft obliged to yield to the vindidlivc 
 perfecution of Des Fontaines, his inveterate enemy. The 
 prince of Pruffia, upon hearing our poets calamitous fitua- 
 tion, repeated his ofFurs of friendfliip, and invited him into 
 his kingdom ; Voltaire however declined the invitation, and 
 
 chofe to refide in the palace of the dutchefs of at Cirey 
 
 where he employed his time in inflruding her grace in 
 
 the polite arts. It was here and for her ufe he drew up that 
 fyftem of univerfal hiftory, which, (whatever may be his fide- 
 lity) is certainly a fine inftance of the folidity of his judge- 
 ment, and his intimate acquaintance with human nituie. This 
 work he fent to the king of Pruffia, who thus compliments 
 him in a letter on the occafion. 
 
 [To be continued] 
 
 A Letter from the E. of Clarendon, to his Daugh- 
 ter Ann, Dutchefs of York, on her turning Ro- 
 man Catholick. 
 
 YO U have much reafon to believe that I have no mind 
 to trouble or difpleafure you, efpecially in an argument 
 that is fo unpleafant and grievous to myfelf. But as no dif- 
 tance of place that is between us, in relpe£l of our refidence, 
 or the greater diftance, in refpecl of the higher condition you 
 are in, can make me Icfs your father, or abfolve me from 
 performing thofe obligationiS whicli that relatiort requires from 
 . * mej 
 
 Mag. to his Daughter ATiT\i Dutchefs ofYoxk. 10^ 
 
 me; (b when I receive any credible advertifement of what re- 
 fledls upon you in point of confcience, honour or difcretion, 
 1 ought not to admit the informing you of it, or the omi- 
 niftring fuch advice to you, as to my underftanding feems rea- 
 Ibnable, and what, I muft ftill hope, will have fome credit 
 with you. I will confefs to you, that what you writ to me 
 many months fiiice, upon thofe reproaches, which I told you 
 were generally reported concerning your defeftion in religion, 
 ^ gave me fo much fatisfadion, that I believe them to proceed 
 from the ill fpirit of the time, that delights in flander and ca- 
 lumny. But I muft tell you, the report increafes of late very 
 much, and I myfelf faw a letter laft week, from Paris, from 
 a perfon, who faid, that the Englifli ambaflador aflured him 
 the dayP^efore, that the dutchefs was become a Roman Catho- 
 lick : and, which makes greater impreffion on me, I am 
 ■ afTured that many good men in England, who have great 
 affedion for you and me, and who have thought nothing more 
 impoffible, than that there ftiould be fuch a change in you, 
 are at prefent under much afflidtion with the obfervation of a 
 great change in their courfe of life, and that conftant exer- 
 cife of your devotion, which was fo notorious ; and do appre- 
 hend from your frequent difcourfes, that you have not the fame 
 reverence and veneration, which you ufed to have for the 
 church of England : the church in which you were baptized, 
 and the church the beft inftituted, and moft free from errors 
 of any chriftian church this day in the world. And that fome 
 perfons, by their infmuations, have prevailed with you to have 
 a better opinion of that which is moft oppofite to it, the church 
 of Rome, than the integrity thereof deferves. It is not yet 
 in my power to believe that your will and underftanding (with 
 God's bleffing upon both) can fufFer you to be fliaken further 
 than the melancholic reflexions upon the iniquity and 
 wickddnefs of the age we live in, which difcredits. all reli- 
 gion, and which, with equal licenfe, breaks into the profeflbrs 
 of all, and prevails upon the members of all churches ; and 
 whofe manners will have no benefit from the faith of a 
 • church. I prefume you do not intangle yourfelf in the parti- 
 cular controverfies between the Romonifts and us, or think 
 yourfelf a competent judge of all difficulties which occur there- 
 in, and therefore it muft be fome fallacious argument of an- 
 tiquity and univerfality, confidently urg'd by men, v/ho 
 know lels than many of thofe you are acquainted with, and 
 ought lefs to be believed by you, that can raife any fcruples 
 or doubts in you,, And if you will with equal temper hear 
 
 thofe, ^ 
 
 p.p. f/U-O JoitL 
 
,44 DOMESTIC OCCURRENCES. lady*, 
 the Champion was brought up between the high confta«e and earl 
 Marflial, followed by four pages, and preceded by the herald, who pro, 
 aounced the challenge, the Champions two Efquires with his lance and 
 taiwt, two ferjeants at arms, and the trumpets, the knight marihal going 
 before to clear the paffage. ^ i • 
 
 Immediately afteT the return of the champion; Garter king at arms, 
 attended by the reft of the Heralds, proclaimed his Majefty s ftyle in Latin. 
 French, and Englift, three feveral times; fij-ft' "P"" 
 near tht table ; next, in the middle of the hall ; and laftly at the bottom 
 
 *^The fecond courfe was then ferved up in the fame order as the firft, The 
 feveral fervices, which had been allowed by the court of claims, were per- 
 formed ; and his Majefty was pleafed after dinner, to confer the honour of 
 knighthood upon John Bridge, Efq ; ftandard bearer and Owen Jones, 
 Efq ; fenior gentlemen of the band of gentlemen penfioners, and Charles 
 Townlcy, Efq ; Clarencieux king of arms. 
 
 On one fide the King's filver medals, thrown amongft the people on the 
 coronation-day, is his buft, and thefe words georgivs in. d. g. m brit. 
 FR. ET HIB.REX.F. B. and on thereverfe.PATRi^ovANTi Tothecoun- 
 try triumphing, with Britania holding a crown over his head, the king 
 fitting, and the infcription, cqron. xxu. sept mdcclxi. 
 
 On one fide of the Queen's, flie is reprefented at half length, and m the 
 exergue are thefc words, charlotte d. cm b.fr. et hiber reoina. 
 On the other her Majefty at full length, and over her a feraph defcending 
 with acrown, rnd going to place it onher head : in the exergue, qy^sirvM 
 MERiTis. By mcnt obtained. And in the infcriprion, coron. xxii. sept. 
 
 Lift^of''the barons of the Cinque Ports, who carried the canopy of their 
 Majefties at the Coronation. 
 
 HalHngJ.— The King's canopy. Edward Milward, Efq ; mayor ; Wil- 
 SmAmburnham, member for the faid port ; John Pelham E q ;-The 
 Queen's. Luke Spence, Efq; Richard Ridout, Efq. Rofe Fuller, mem- 
 
 SandwkL~The°"King's canopy. Richard Solly, Solomon Ferrier, Valen- 
 dne Saycr, jun.-The Queen's. John Dilnot, Will. Maundy, Samuel 
 
 Dote'I.'^^The King's canopy. Sir Wyndham Knatchbul, Bart knight of 
 the (hire for Kent ; Dr!^ Simpfon, member f^'iDover.-The Queen's. 
 D^vid Papillon,jun. Efq; commiffioner ofexcife; Charles Whitworth, 
 Efa 5 member for Blechingly. „ . , . 
 
 Romney.-The King's canopy. Edward Dcring Thomas Knight, jun. 
 Efqrs. members for the faid port.-The Queen's. Jacob Walter, Efqi 
 
 H>^h -T^fkiig's canopy. Sir Brook Bridges, Bart. Thoma. Pym Hales, 
 Efq; -The C^een's. Wm. Evelyne, Eiq; member lor the faid port; 
 
 J,^^!!^^ GeorgeOnflow. Efq ; knigj^t of the (hire for 
 
 ■ Surry, Thoinas Lamb, Efq; mayor.-The Queen's. Chnftopher Slade, 
 
 wfnc4lfef-Th°Ting^?canopy.. Thomas Orby Hunter, Efq ; member 
 SriSd port, Col.^GeorgeGray.-Thc Queen's. Richard Waddrcprr. 
 ' Efq 5 John Nichol, Efq.. 
 
 THE 
 
 LADY'S MAGAZINE, 
 
 For OCTOBER, 1761. 
 
 The Life. of Voltaire, [continued] , 
 From the King of Pruffia to Mr. Voltaire' ) 
 
 . MyLoRD, 
 
 *********** F all hiftories were wrote In the manner of 
 t )«r^2^1»l * that which you fend mc, we fhould be better 
 
 * ^ * acquainted with the manners of mankind, and 
 
 * ^ ^ i t ^^'^ ^'''^^^^ ^° ^^'^ ^^'^^^ difagreeing 
 
 * W 5^?^ d i hiftcrians. The more I know you, the more 
 i***l**S*l I find you to be an extraordinary man. I have 
 Tead every page of your hiftory three or four times over ; fo 
 much am I charmed with the manner In which it is written. 
 Every line has meaning, every fentence teems with excellent 
 refleaion, without falfe thought, without puerilities, and guid- 
 ed by the moft exaft impartialitv. When I have read the 
 whole work, I fhall fend you feme ftiort remarks, particular- 
 ly with reaard to the German names which are frequently 
 mifl;)elled.° As this may throw fome obfcurity upon the per- 
 foimance, I (hall take care to correa them. 
 
 Fv.r mv part, I could wifh that all our books were written 
 oniy by you ; if fo, we fhouW at leaft unite pleafure with 
 nroftt, and be often deceived into inftruftion, _ 
 
 r frequently lofe all patience with the trite refledtions, the 
 teJio s remarks, and the difgufting drynefs that appears in 
 aiany hiftoiles. The reader muft himfelf be at ttie trouble 
 
 Vox.. iiL U - of 
 
I 
 
1 46 Memoirs of M. de Volt atr e . Lady's 
 
 of digefting fuch crudities. You ("pare your readers this tiouble. 
 Whether a man has judgment or not, he may be equally 
 inftruded by your performances. He only need ufe his Me- 
 mory, and grow wife. . „ u 1 
 
 I conjure you, my dear friend, to- fend" me all the produc- 
 tions of your prefent retirement, and be aflured, you oblige 
 one who cannot be ungrateful. -n „ r. 
 
 Thebanifhment of Mr. Voltaire, at this time was but ftiort. 
 His Friends were aftive in defending his innocence, and laid 
 his cafe before the king in fuch convincing lights, that he was 
 pleafed to recall him from exile, and reftore him to favour. 
 His good fortune, however, was of no long continuance, and 
 only "previous to a new difafter. Among the number of fa- 
 vouritesatthattimeat court, was madame de Pompadour, a lady 
 ofas much beauty as ever grac'd a court, but of as indifferent mo- 
 rals aseverdifiijraced her (ex. She had art enough to gain an entire 
 afcendant over the king, and ambition to convert her power 
 into fclf ^'itereft. . While fhe and her relations fold places, and 
 difpofe*'"5f employments, the- nation became almoft bankrupt. 
 Wretifics raifed without merit from obfcurity, place all their 
 ambition in v/salth and magnificence. Such were her relations, 
 facrificing every public confideration to money, and even 
 without 'a blufli, avowing their rapacity. I have before men- 
 tioned, that Voltaire had been conftituted hiftoriographer to 
 the king. This poft had been ufually confidered as the re- 
 ward of flattery and not of truth, aitd was generally beffowed 
 accordingly. Our poet however, who defpifed his predecelTors 
 for being no better than firft flatterers of ftate, was refolved 
 to (hew his integrity, though at the expence of his happinefs. 
 He intimated with the utmoft humility to his majefty, "that he 
 feaied he could not give pofrerity thofe favourable ideas of 
 Lewis XV. which he had done of his predeceflbr. That a 
 mind filled with love, could leave no room for that paternal 
 afFe£tion a king owed his people : and he concluded, by praif- 
 inff madame de Pompadour's beauty ; but at the fame time, 
 inhnuating her artifice. This was enough to banifh him from 
 court, a dll^race which gave him not the leaft concern, as 
 he ever preferred the traiiquil-'ry of retirement to the glare of 
 pageantry, or perhaps it might be his peculiar temper to dif- 
 like all acquaintance with thofe that prefumed to be his fu- 
 p^riors. Among his friends in Paris, he led the life of a man 
 and a philofopher, protelTed himfelf the protedor of indigent 
 merit j every youth, whofe genius led to poetry, found in him 
 
 an 
 
 Mag Memoirs of M.deYoLT AIRE. 
 
 r^h^ tLlt-rn wi?h tKmoft affidmty, t^^^^^^^ 
 defended to regard him as^a dangerous memb. 
 Among this number was ^r- ^"^^j pieman had 
 
 cuftoms, who owed h.m an old grudge l lus g 
 endeavoured to lay a tax upon P""""S' ^^^.^^^ f oltaire, 
 author to put his name to h. ow p^.r ornjanc 
 who faw how much fach J ^^^^^^^^^^^ 3gainft him with 
 
 »"=f'T ""TJ„"%o'"wSo woSd not be vJi .» fee 
 upon the occafion ; tor, wno w . ^^j.^ 
 
 wings of our poets ^^.ch were given them o^^^^^^ . 
 
 clipped down, and ^fl^^V/r ^and ^ou wiU find ft har 
 foars in liberty ; maj<e 'J^^ J^Tfj^.^^'/inquifu^ 
 able to crawl, g^^f^^^^'^'h^^e Tithed Horace, Juvenal, 
 at Rome, we (hould If Milton, Dryden, 
 
 or the philofophical would neither 
 
 Pope and Locke, had not been fre^, ^ng . ^^bid 
 
 have had Poets - P^S/ ; but fS^ 
 
 orint na:, and what is taxing k, i:upic for thev are crimes;. 
 
 fent Sfr with repreflirig ^efamato^^^^^^^^^^ .„,ke 
 but at leaftpermitBayle and his works to^le. ^^^^^^ 
 
 not thofe goods coun.^^^^^^^^^^ w ch^do^^ ^^g ^ ^^^^ 
 
 to our country, ^f"^*^^?' J°^..,ld not fay that you are pof- 
 many books already. You wo. W not y ; ^^^^^.^^ 
 
 feffeJ of too much money ^^^^^^J^^^ { books. A large 
 
 as juft as the other. ^^"^.^L'^f^^bich contains about eight 
 library refembles the c.ty of Par.s, wh.c ^.^^ ^^^^^^ 
 
 hundred thoufand inhabitants ^"^^j ,bofe you change 
 
 all, youchufe a few from the nui^^^^^^^^^ You chufe 
 
 at pleafure. It «s Juft Jo wuh egarC ^^.^^^^^ 
 
 a few felea ones, which are t e Jed ^ j^^„j,,d thou- 
 
 humber. There may be for nH:a^^^ .boufand romances, 
 
 fand polemic divines, fi/^^"^ ^JJ^^f Nodical trifles which 
 
 all which you "^ver read ons o P^^^ ^ 
 
 may be thrown in the fare as loon as ^^^^^ 
 
1 4R Memoirs c/ M . d e V 0 l t a i R e . La dy's 
 
 reads only fuch books as are v,-orthy, and the man who un- 
 dcrl't nds his country's intereft permits them all. The 
 thoughts of mankind are become an important objeiV of comerce; 
 the bookfellers of Holland gain a million in the year, becaufe 
 the Fir-nch have learned to write. 
 
 A Romance, I am fenfible, is among books, what a block- 
 head, who pretends to wit, is in the world. VVe may d -'pifft 
 both, but yet wc f metimes keep them company. Befides, a 
 Romai.cc fu.)por s both the author who has compofed it, and 
 the bookfellei who has publilhed it, t:-e artift who founds the 
 type , the printer, the paper-maker, the bookbinder, and 
 the coftec-houfe man. The work aifo amufcs fome wo- 
 men ibr a few hou.s, for thefe recjuire new books as well as 
 othc s ; tiius Qcf, i.able as it is, it has two remarkable advan- 
 tages attending the publication, profit and pleafure. 
 
 ^Our plays deferve ftill greater cncoLiragement. Not that 
 I cor.fidcr them as contributing to make men good by keeping 
 them from more pcrni:icus-amufLmcnts, for this would be mere 
 cant; but thefe maybe jufliy ftiled Icfibns of morality, virtue, 
 and refined bdraviour. "Corneille has cftablifhed among the 
 French, -1^1 fchool where the mind is taught elevation and 
 greatne^^ Molierc inftrudls in civil life anddomellic ceconomy. 
 Men ir genius among us who have received their inftru£tions, 
 attract the admiration and cuiiofity of flrangers, who come 
 to receive their education in Pari;;, and contribute to its gran- 
 deur and oppulence. Our poor are thus fuflained, and our 
 country enjoys voluntary fubjeclion from nations, that in 
 other re(j:eas hold us in deteftation". 
 
 It has always been one of the nioft fhining parts of Vol- 
 taire's character to have d fended his profeffion againft the en- 
 croachments of power or the contempt of ignorance. When- 
 ever the mir.illry were rcloivcd upon taxing the prefs, in other 
 words, laying an embargo up.'.n ti.e little wit of the age, he 
 was foremolt in if. defence ; whenever wrangling wits, by 
 the opp'-'fition of their (ati re, brought poetry as well as them- 
 fclves into difellcem, he ferved as moderator between them ; 
 nav, fometimcs has defended the caufe of genius againft both ; 
 as cither feemeJ regardlcfs of the honours due to his profef- 
 fion. His reply to the commiffary had the intended efFeft, it 
 warded oiF the threatned blow from the republic of letters, 
 but then it fell with violence upon Voltaire himfelf: the 
 commiilary proleffcd himfelf from this time his avowed enemy, 
 to which Vefentment our poet oppofed nothing but the te£li- 
 tude of his intentions. 
 
 But 
 
 Mag. Mmo/n o/ M. de Voltaire. .149 
 
 But he had ftill another enemy at court, as undcfcrvcdly 
 fo as the former. The ftory is as follows, In the year 1734 
 he happened to be prefent when the D. of Berwick befieged 
 Phiiipft)Ourg. As he was a favourite of the general s, he lived 
 with the head officers in the utmoft intimacy, h.s wit enliven- 
 ed them in the intervals of war, and as he did not difpute 
 their courage fo they were content to allow him the lead in 
 every converfation. Wits have ever been remarkable for 
 cowardice, and^the French officers had an mclmation to try 
 whether Voltaire was in every refpcft refpondent to that cha- 
 raaer.Men frequently take a pleafure in finding out the foibles of 
 the great, and expofing thofe parts of a fuperior charadter which 
 fink beneath their oWn. They had frequently exhoricd him 
 to the trenches, and now and then jeftingly infifted upon his 
 aoincrupon an aflault; but our poet cautioufly refofed their 
 kind" intentions, informing them that fightmg was not his 
 trade, and when they had earned rheviaory he would immor- 
 t->lizc it with a fong. It was lefolved however, that the fa- 
 cetious creature fnouid feel what it was to be hi danger j 
 and accordingly one morning he was rouzed out of bed by a 
 file of mufqueteers at his door, who had orders to con:;udt 
 him to the general's tent. He never liked a file of mufcjueteers . 
 fincc he had been conduftedto the Baftile; and now feltmncn 
 imeafinefs lipon hearing the fellows mutter that he was arrefled 
 as a fpy His acprchenfions were encreafed upon meetmg; 
 none of his friends in his way to the general ; but they were 
 turned into fright, when upon entering the tent he perceived 
 his intimate acquaintances whom he had made happy the pre- 
 ceding ni 'htby his converfation, regard him with the utmoft 
 decree ofcoolnefs mixed with pity. He alked, entreated, 
 to know wh.it bufinefs the general had with him; but all pre- 
 fent (hock their heads without deigning to anfwer. 1 hus he 
 flood fretting in a circle of difmal faces, himieif tne moft d.l- 
 nial figure among them; at laft however the general, wh« 
 had been a fpedator of his diftrefs from behind the carivas, 
 made his a.pcarance, and politely told Mr. Voltaire and the 
 reft of the 'company that dinner was ready; and aaareffing 
 himfelf to our poet in particular, affured him that the capons 
 were excellent. And truly fo they ought, repned the bard, 
 for I never bought a dinner fo dear in my hie. Le bore tms. 
 ieft with the utmoft good humour, and as he thougnt hmileif • 
 verv well entitled to repartee, wrote a ihort poem on the ncgc 
 of Philicfoourg. He begins with all the pomp and folemnity 
 of dirtion; defcribcs his heroes as attacking the enemy 
 amidi-i the thunder of cannon, and fcaling the walls though 
 
 on- 
 
. . \ 
 
 / 
 
Mig. Prefent Situation of Affairs. 151 
 
 declarations, in which they teftify their defire of re-eftablifhing 
 the tranquillity of Europe, and bringing on a general peace. 
 I cannot without admiration think that we have minilters, v?ho 
 in- rhe midft of fuccefs, and furrpunded with conqueft and 
 <rlory, fhould ftill fo far prefer the interefts of mankind to their 
 Swn as to make the firft propofttions. 
 
 But while we applaiid their fagacity, let us not dncreafe 
 their difficulties, by expeaing more advantageous terms of 
 peace, (if ihere fhould be a congrefs for that purpofc) than is 
 confiftent with the honour of our enemies to give, than is con- 
 fiftent with our own fecurity to accept. The greater our 
 exoeaations, the greater difficulty will our minifters find m 
 bringing the enemy to terms, by this means the wilh d-for 
 peace will be protraaed, and the reft left to the event of unr 
 
 certain fuccefs. . . ,• • ^ 
 
 There is not a more certain maxim in politics, than that 
 a peace bought too dear can never laft long ; it is the part 
 therefore of a viaorious people to give up fomething of its 
 advantages, and to foften their enemies difhonour, with 
 fuch terms as may keep them content with their fitua- 
 
 ''°There is another maxim, which experience has ever tefti- 
 fied the truth of; I mean, that an empire, by too great a 
 foreign power may leffen its natural ftrength, and that domi- 
 nion often becomes more feeble as it grows more extenfive. 
 The ancient Roman empire is a ftrong inftance of the truth 
 of the affertion ; one of their emperors perceived too late its 
 natural weaknefs, but could not attempt to leffen it, as that 
 would be an indication of the motive of his fears. The 
 Ottoman power at prefent, as a late ingenious writer has ob- 
 ierved, is one of the moft exteniive, yet perhaps one of the 
 moft feeble empires in the world ; is it not poffiblefor England 
 to have colonies too large for her natural power to manage? 
 Of this we may be very fure, the more powerful her co- 
 lonies become, the lefs obedient will they be to another s 
 
 ^'^There is ftill a third.maxim, which I would beg leave to 
 repeat on this occafion ; I mean, that a country may be very 
 wretched and very fuccefsful ; refembling a lighted taper, which 
 the brighter it blazes, only confumes the fafter. Sweden is, 
 nerhap^; as ftrong an inftance of this truth, as hiftory can 
 Lw. In the very midft of the viaories of its romantic 
 monarch, never was there fo wretched a nation feen ; with- 
 out money that would pafs out of their own dominions, with- 
 out trade, and even without content. Let us not build too 
 
 much 
 
THE 
 
 lAdy's magazine, 
 
 For NOVEMBER, 1761. 
 
 The Life of Voltaire, [continued] 
 
 T has been already obfervetl, that M. Pom- 
 ^ ^"i^fi-^"^ t padoiir, was by no means in his eftcem, this 
 % 2£ t diflikc he was fool enough to publifh in afliort 
 
 I ^ I ^ I latire, in which the king is reprefcnted as 
 t ^h^Ajd ^ '°^^"S complaints of the kingdom on her 
 *W*'^***4 bofom, and preferring the allurements of a 
 ftrumpetto the voice ofvirti e and fame. Nothing fpreads 
 fooner th.m fcandal or fatire ; this little perforniance vvas 
 quickly read at court, and the king was loon apprized of its 
 author. All Voltaire's former advice, every ludicrous former 
 publication was now conftrucd into libel, and his enemies 
 had a fecond opportunity of triumph. 
 
 Th'- king weak, indolent, and voluptuous, could not 
 brook any attempt to controul his pleafures. He teftilied the 
 feverclt difpleafure againft the poet, but did not chufe to ba- 
 ni(h him in direft terms, as he had been long the favourite 
 of the public. It was refolved to fend him a private hint, 
 that it would be pleafing if he thought proper, to quit the 
 kin^lom, and cardinal Fleury undertook to deliver the mef- 
 fafre The cardinal, who was a good-natured hpneft man, 
 
 Vol. III. C c only 
 
) 
 
,94 M«»«r^^!/'M.de VoLTAlRi. Lad/* 
 
 only intended to procure both, that tranq"""ty ^/J^^^^^^^ 
 tion which he knew they could never enjoy m the ^-^e ^mg 
 dom. He accordingly acquainted VoJta.re of the k.ngj 
 ■ pleafure, and our poet, contrary to h.s ^^P«<^^"°^^/;^^^^^ 
 lo go, inkfs his exoulfion was made P.^^l'^. This was a 
 refula that quite difconcerted his enemies ; 'J^'J 
 wire deter Jned to try that by ^^-J J^^^t e^eafd 
 refufcd to rolicitation. An unexpeaed accident cttectea 
 what all their intrigues could not do. H.s friend, miftrefs 
 rnd pup l M. deChatelet died ; for her converfation he had 
 forrnT vvithftood all the invitations of the king of Pruffia, 
 n her Lverfation, he found a lenitive againft al th-alumny 
 of the envious, or the infalts of the, powerful. When flic 
 was gone all thofe tics which held him to his country we c 
 broke -Knd he confidered himfelf in eVery fenfe of the word 
 broke, ana ne ^ ' ^ refolved to ftay no longer 
 
 Tn Fr wh'e';: Z'^.Jl^ bee„ ^ ni-a'd=d where ■ 
 
 W L Atermi/ed to accep. ->f 'hyTdTe^r it F urf 
 P^uffia, and *e„< <" -^-f„, pe^^^^^^^^^ i" forS 
 
 "Tedtlc thefecond. who had only been of Proffia 
 
 when the correfpondence between him and ^'-J^'^"' 
 
 ever, while his fpt"" penerallv fuppoled, that he 
 
 1,°^ bI w s quite otherwife, the very day he crown- 
 e ?°i= a Ko <har=d\ls honours, now 
 'he'r for fo.e year, befo.^ , :r.;;rpSa ce" who 
 frtin'Z atu^fs in i'prifonnfent, now expeBed t» 
 
 Sy'am B> l™ P-:ouby Honours. The truth 
 
 Maa i "' .«■«»«•« «/M.deVoi.TAiiE. >9fS 
 .1. tr'ea^res left himby bis father wefedefigned for a very 
 ^iffe n^purpofe .^^^^ of grttifying their rapamy. 
 
 ^£XJZ'<it an hundred thoufand ftvour.tes whtch were 
 
 Hfatfbetrrpsrto^^^^^^ 
 
 and invited into his dominions the arts llinLVon 
 he eXavoured to promote both from intereft and inclination, 
 Su morn^SS were generally dedicated to ftudy, part of he 
 Slv^o reviewrng his troops, and the evenings to foc.ety j 
 Sh^ horof'vacant hifarity he always tb-wby the kjn^ 
 , r J oc ^ fripnH and was often himlelf molt luc- 
 
 for either wit or learning were, -he marquis DArgens, 
 tuted the greateit pari endeavoured to unite 
 
 o^fneech which though without meaning, gives more plea-- 
 « his cafe he confidered every abatement in his enjoy- 
 
 TntniJ-rotthrhrwas InfUathaU v«s 
 ' 19 fiacie varied mode otenjoymcii?. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 ) 
 
 i 
 
,96 Mwc/Vjo/ M. deVoLTAiRF. Lacly'^ 
 
 ■ The kina: was delighted with fh's i' rcnchmnn's v.-it, was 
 rkaicd with hisconvcifa.ion, but had too much W'fdom. to 
 rive him any o hcr place at court than that of' rupcnntLnd.mr ot 
 t1ie pleafurek He was impowcrcd to mvirc hngers and dan- 
 cers nom abroad, to be maft.r of the ccrorru,nies, on all 
 court entertainments and on thofe occaiions to g,v . laws to 
 the king hi.nfelf who never chofe to be diftinguiftieo from the 
 reft ofhTs fabi.as, when in purfuit of pleafiire. 
 
 Muu .ertius was a man of a very, diftcrcnt difpolition ; he 
 had led in youth a life of accaJcmic feventy, and practiced, 
 ;md pralfed temperance. He was poffeHed of fome gemus 
 butm-rcindu(hy; ha'^. read and digcfted a great Qcal, and 
 was one of that call of cnaraiters which are content, 
 that thc:c fhould be fubordinatlon in the literary wojd. He 
 was perfedly acquainted with mathematics, and ^had read 
 fomc poetiA : from the one his writings have borrowed grace, 
 from the other folidity. However they al want that cha- • 
 laaeriftic of true geniii?, they contain notnmg or.gma!, and 
 while the reader can obfcrvc nothing to becenlured yet tney 
 h we little that can be a fubieft of praife. What Maupert.us 
 wanted in wit he always mxlc up by prudence. 1 his is an 
 h-.nnv fucc.daneum to genius, and lew v.ho are poxreffed 
 of the one in a very great degree, rre iound to e njoy the other. 
 Nokvi-i-s ever carn.d him bcv ond tl>e bounds of decencv, 
 no h of hi. ever betrayed the leaft dill.ke ot the bug s 
 cond .ct or his n-c^iurcs ; fr.n. h.nce he was regarded at 
 firft - n har..leis aooJ-natured ma,:, and tn,s by degrees 
 tn^w into efteom, io\i.at h. had the good lenfb to ma^e h.m- 
 f l tl-ilMh orincipal t.'.vour;-". , , , , 
 
 F. :ri^lni z ^>rmed tn the (ehool of ndve.l.ty, he had 
 b > .a hi. vo.;rh the tpnrt o> f^.rtune, trave.:cd Luropc with- 
 6,. mopev, a.^d all t!:: iViends hcnade wore ()wmg toh,. own 
 HhHs Th. reader will rea'ilv conceive that he was nmv 
 :;;d;h;nohh:..dt >a.t thechcy,licr d:n,1uPr,ej i^n.^ 
 own d his in-cfoi^vin thole ^uvcmie aJvn.a.rcs has n o.e 
 
 /.,c-t v.'!::.-. al.,.e) perhaps none of his co-tempo: arles 
 odd exceed hi . ; though in his writing m appca s a K:nM,c 
 e.,-o.v.iaft, %et in cor.vtrfatum he aKva.s tnixed AM.uh.ng 
 o-th. mu>...,u, which gave an air o, fhrcwdnns to h,s 
 obfervat, u-.. ..iv\ a ftrain of A.gulanlv to h,s ma.ncr. he 
 ^ , f l^v-n'"' to read n. ankiivK not by precept but experience, 
 '^:^d : "h;: n,..v generally :e.: the' wont llde o, tho:e tney 
 ;±;-|e.-.tn, he ^ gardcd hutnan n:.?ure tu the moft duau^ 
 
 ^''^t . nrofcffor in the univerfity of Hall 
 - Wolf badlong been 1^°^^^^^^ ^^^^ of thi'nldng, he 
 ■ ^nxonv, but indulging a mciai . lotion at that time 
 tT^^y^^ ^>ff^^-;^"r trl^ch hS-pelled theunl. 
 eft bllfted in the if ools or J f.fficient to 
 
 The truth IS, his pertorman ^ ^^^^ 
 
 r^^^^^^^\ZX:li£^^ have bequeathed pre- 
 roneous himfelf, ^.nnot ^ ■ efforts of thofe men 
 
 Son to his °-;^Xof f m tedious to mention, 
 
 above-mentioned, and ot lorn o,ciety for the promo- 
 
 ^he king, was -J^^^;^^^^^^^^ tL ftudies of the 
 
 tion of *^'^"^^^2:ded into four different departments, each 
 academy were ^m^^^. ° ,d,ance the other. The firft 
 J^owever fer, ir.g t° '^^ft^f/ °^ mathematics and expenmental 
 for metaphyhcs j the J es and Belles Lettres, and 
 
 philofophy, the third fo S^^.^^ „f religion Mau- 
 
 ^^^"ts^hS^ f'^S;-^ ^^^^ kinghimfelfbecam. 
 
 This was a pidture of vVhcn the king was 
 
 take accepted his ^-f^^X^^o.. he went to meet him 
 apprized of '^T"" . ftic fome miles out of town, and 
 attended only by one d -eft .^^ ^^^^.^ , , d 
 
 gave him the moft ^"endly a had de- 
 
 , f^oltaire more than ^ .jioP^/,^ ^,,ed obfervation, gene- 
 fcribed him. An eafy ^-^^^^^'^^ for fome time thrown 
 'rally compof.d his co-'erfa. on he ^^^^^^^.^^ charafter o 
 afide the man ot wit, for the 
 
 the man of w./dom ; he had no ^ he 
 
 paradox of which he was once h. t n^^^^^ undiftingmfh- 
 
 ^charaaer of a n^'f^^^^^^^^P^j^i^ i^e D' Argens, the king per- 
 ing admirerof the huma. ip^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^ Mau- 
 
 ccived he was po^^f ^^^'^.^ , "".^ies of imagination than him- 
 pertias and more n^^nghU) U ^ ^j^.,^ I thus de cribe 
 
 ?e!r, even i'^ his gayeft moments ^^^^ concealed he 
 
 Voltaire's fuper.onty, la.^ ^'i" excellence, and demanded 
 was perfeaiy -r;,;/., po " which they did not chufe 
 a deference from his ^Tj^t^U^ iealouhes, and the king 
 to indulge. Thi. at «rft r-Cd fom j ^ 
 perceived them i but iue>i wa^ drvide 
 
1 9S Mtmoirs M. de Vol t a i r e . Lady's 
 
 divide his favours and his marks of efteem among thefe rival 
 wits, that each thought himfelf the favourite, and all con» 
 tfibuted to render the court of Berlin the molt polite m hu, 
 rope. But whatever favours the king bellowed on others, 
 Voltaire had in faft the ftrongeft marks of his fnendfliip and 
 efteem. 1 o him he communicated his writings, dehred his 
 opinion with regard to his future defigns, and made him a 
 partner in the fecrets of his government. He was offered the 
 moft honourable and the moft lucrative employments, but 
 thofe he refufed, alledging that it was not riches, but friend- 
 feip, he fought from his conneaions with kings, and that he 
 came not to irapoverifh the court, but to improve it. When 
 Voltaire had refted fome days after the fatigues of his journey, 
 he thought it his duty "to write to his old friend, carriinal 
 Fleury, and at the fame time, fent him a performance afcribed 
 to the king of Pruffia, intitled Antimachiavel-, The letter and 
 the book, the cardinal received with the moft extreme latil- 
 faaion, and returned Voltaire his acknowledgements in a 
 well-written epiftlc, , in which he informs him of the pleafure 
 he found in his- prefent ; adding, that if the author of the fine 
 performance above-mentioned, was not a king, at leait he de- 
 fervcd to be one, and though fuch a man was born in thp 
 humble * ftation, yet his merits would have laifed him to the 
 ereateft. This letter Voltaire communicated to the king, and 
 it was perhaps one caule of the fpcedy alliance which faon 
 fucceeded between the courts of France and Pruffia. U he. 
 grcaceft events often rife from the Aighteft caufes But t|^o 
 redrcmns grievances, reforming ftates, fet^hng the ballaiice 
 of power, making trc:ities, and writing hutories, were the 
 ferious employments of the court of Berlin, yet the innocent 
 pleafures of retirement, where wifdom throws afide its leve- 
 ritv, and' the mind condcfcends to be pleafed, even in op- 
 poution to the judgment, fuch harmlefs amufements I fay, had 
 their tarn. The kin?, would now and then give into the 
 moft tri£ing fallics of gaiety, fuch as playing mcks, not 
 thofe indeed an harlequin, or an antic, unnaturally exhibit, 
 but fuch as tend to difcover the human mind, and give new 
 inlets into nature. He loved to excite a ridiculous dihrefs 
 in anv of his courtiers, and enjoyed their uneafinefs witli 
 great 'fatisfaftion. The reader will excuie me if 1 mention 
 one which was told at Berlin when I was there. The court 
 was to go into mourning upon the death of fome prince, 
 whofe name 1 forget ; but as it was for one night only,^ Voi- 
 taiie did not care lo be at the expcnce of a new fuit of clack,; 
 thcr^-fore he had rccourfe to a friend of his, a vvme-merchant. 
 
 Mag. ^ rt^!^o^^^~-^^-T 
 
 in tbecior, lent Ji^ h s .^f J^^^ fs, wasl.y 
 
 a corpulent man, and Voltaire ^^^^ p^et 
 
 no means fittiftg.. krvLt czny it /^V- 
 
 reached his lodgings, he ma m footmaa 
 lor in or order to Se taken m at the Ude-^ ^^^^ it 
 
 S^ans pleafed *e merchant, and^. been apprised of 
 
 to refer it " „ ° fittme with two of his phyfi- 
 . ^hat flrould happen ; he 
 cians when the plamt,ff a"ddrfen „ ,h. coat 
 
 him- The, wme-merchant was ^ ^^jj 
 
 Eefore he opened hrscaufe " * » J , „™oft patience 
 
 ftory, and *Ute„ h^d'cSded, Voltaire begun h« 
 
 Sd%fea-5^££.pr^^^^ 
 „,an'sdifordermtoconfiderauon 
 
 objea of pity, 
 
 juigesfeemedgreatlyouchedw.^ ^^^^^^^^^ 
 iarTangue, and refufed /o ne „„animoufly con, 
 
 ' earneft in h;s ^"^eavours to rep y ical. and the 
 
 eluded by ^^\Pf^^"'','^!,I which he was to be tapped, 
 TnSdlfhireyesbyone of the phyficians, 
 was inftantly Vran^ifoed in n s y y -.moned by 
 
 ^hile he was incapap k of -^kmg ^^^^ l? had fuf- 
 the tightness fj^^ ^f" he gave him a purfe of ten 
 
 ficiently enjoyed d ftrels, n^^^ and Voltaire was left 
 guineas in order to buy a new 
 
 peaceable poffeffion of '^e old. Wit ^^^^^^^^ ^jj-j^^^ 
 
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