The prince wrote to his idol in the style of a worshiper, and Voltaire replied with exquisite grace and address. A correspondence followed, which may be studied with advantage by those who wish to become proficients in the ignoble art of flattery. No man ever paid compliments better than Voltaire...It was only from his hand that so much sugar could be swallowed without making the swallower sick. After Fritz betrays his allies by concluding a separate peace during the First Silesian War; France sends Voltaire to spy on him and try to get him back to fighting for them:
The court of Versailles, in this peril, looked to Frederick for help. He had been guilty of two great treasons, perhaps he might be induced to commit a third.
Voltaire was selected for the mission. He eagerly undertook the task ; for, while his literary fame filled all Europe, he was troubled with a childish craving for political distinction. He was vain, and not without reason, of his address, and of his insinuating eloquence; and he flattered himself that he possessed boundless influence over the King of Prussia. The truth was that he knew, as yet, only one corner of Frederick's character. He was well acquainted with all the petty vanities and affectations of the poetaster; but was not aware that these foibles were united with all the talents and vices which lead to success in active life; and that the unlucky versifier who bored him with reams of middling Alexandrians, was the most vigilant, suspicious, and severe of politicians.
The negotiation was of an extraordinary description. Nothing can be conceived more whimsical than the conferences which took place between the first literary man and the first practical man of the age, whom a strange weak ness had induced to exchange their parts. The great poet would talk of nothing but treaties and guaran ties, and the great king of nothing but metaphors and rhymes. On one occasion Voltaire put into his Majesty's hand a paper on the state of Europe, and received it back with verses scrawled on the margin. In secret they both laughed at. each other. Voltaire did not spare the king's poems ; and the king has left on record his opinion of Voltaire's diplomacy. "He had no credentials," says Frederick, "and the whole mission was a joke, a mere farce." Voltaire about to move to Prussia:
Potsdam was, in truth, what it was called by one of its most illustrious inmates, the Palace of Alcina. At the first glance it seemed to be a delightful spot, where every intellectual and physical enjoyment awaited the happy adventurer. It was in vain that a long succession of favorites who had entered that abode with delight and hope, and who, after a short term of delusive happiness, had been doomed to expiate their folly by years of wretchedness and degradation, raised their voices to warn the aspirant who ap proached the charmed threshold...We have no hesitation in saying that the poorest author of that time in London, sleeping on a bulk, dining in a cellar, with a cravat of paper, and a skewer for a shirt-pin, was a happier man than any of the literary inmates of Frederick's court.
But of all who entered the enchanted garden in the inebriation of delight, and quitted it in agonies of rage and shame, the most remarkable was Voltaire.
Fritz and Voltaire are squabbling about the terms of Voltaire's employment:
It seemed that the negotiation would be broken off; but Frederick, with great dexterity, affected indifference, and seemed inclined to transfer his idolatry to Baculard d'Arnaud. His Majesty even wrote some bad verses, of which the sense was, that Voltaire was a setting sun, and that Arnaud was rising. Good-natured friends soon carried the lines to Voltaire. He was in his bed. He jumped out in his shirt, danced about the room with rage, and sent for his passport and his post-horses. It was not difficult to foresee the end of a connection which had such a beginning. The honeymoon doesn't last long:
This eccentric friendship was fast cooling. Never had there met two persons so exquisitely fitted to plague each other...
Both were angry, and a war began, in which Frederick stooped to the part of Harpagon, and Voltaire to that of Scapin. It is humiliating to relate that the great warrior and statesman gave orders that his guest's allowance of sugar and chocolate should be curtailed. It is, if possible, a still more humiliating fact that Voltaire indemnified himself by pocketing the wax candles in the royal antechamber.
Harpagon and Scapin are title characters in Molière plays: a miser and a schemer.
D'Arnaud and D'Argens, Guichard and La Metrie, might, for the sake of a morsel of bread, be willing to bear the in solence of a master; but Voltaire was of another order. He knew that he was a potentate as well as Frederick; that his European reputation, and his incomparable power of covering whatever he hated with ridicule, made him an object of dread even to the leaders of armies and the rulers of nations. In truth, of all the intellectual weapons which have ever been wielded by man, the most terrible was the mockery of Voltaire. Bigots and tyrants, who had never been moved by the wailing and cursing of millions, turned pale at his name.
We cannot pause to recount how often that rare talent was exercised against rivals worthy of esteem —how often it was used to crush and torture enemies worthy only of silent disdain—how often it was perverted to the more noxious purpose of destroying the last solace of earthly misery and the last restraint on earthly power. Neither can we pause to tell hew often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and toleration— the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government. This is not the place for a full character of Voltaire. After Voltaire gets involved in fraudulent transactions and tries swindling a banker:
The king was delighted at having such an opportunity to humble his guest; and bitter reproaches and complaints were exchanged. Voltaire, too, was soon at war with the other men of letters who surrounded the king; and this irritated Frederick, who, however, had himself chiefly to blame. for, from that love of tormenting which was in him a ruling passion, he perpetually lavished extravagant praises on small men and bad books, merely in order that he might enjoy the mortification and rage which on such occasions Voltaire took no pains to conceal. His Majesty, however, soon had reason to regret the pains which he had taken to kindle jealousy among the members of his household. The whole palace was in a ferment with literary intrigues and cabals. The big breakup in full swing:
Voltaire had in his keeping a volume of the king's poetry and forgot to return it. This was, we believe, merely one of the oversights which men setting out upon a journey often commit. That Voltaire could have meditated plagiarism is quite incredible. He would not, we are confident, for the half of Frederick's kingdom have consented to father Frederick's verses. The king, however, who rated his own writings much above their value, and who was inclined to see all Voltaire's actions in the worst light, was enraged to think that his favor ite compositions were in the hands of an enemy as thievish as a daw and as mischievous as a monkey.
Macaulay doesn't seem to be familiar with the explanation that Fritz was afraid that other leading Europeans would find out he had written such things about them. Macaulay's verdict on the Frankfurt episode:
It is absurd to say that this outrage is not to be attributed to the king. Was anybody punished for it? Was anybody called in question for it? Was it not consistent with Frederick's character? Was it not of a piece with his conduct on other similar occasions? Is it not notorious that he repeatedly gave private directions to his officers to pillage and demolish the houses of persons against whom he had a grudge—charging them at the same time to take their measure in such a way that his name might not be compromised? He acted thus towards Count Buhl in the Seven Years' War. Why should we believe that he would have been more scrupulous with regard to Voltaire? Fritz and Voltaire start corresponding again during the Seven Years' War:
We do not know any collection of letters which throw so much light on the darkest and most intricate parts of human nature as the correspondence of these strange beings after they bald exchanged forgiveness. Both felt that the quarrel had lowered them in the public estimation. They admired each other. They stood in need of each other. The great king wished to be handed down to posterity by the great writer. The great writer felt himself exalted by the homage of the great king. Yet the wounds which they had inflicted on each other were too deep to be effaced, or even perfectly healed. Not only did the scars remain ; the sore places often festered and bled afresh.
The letters consisted for the most part of compliments, thanks, offers of service, assurances of attachment. But if anything brought back to Frederick's recollection the cunning and mischievous pranks by which Voltaire had provoked him, some expression of contempt and displeasure broke forth in the midst of his eulogy. It was much worse when anything recalled to the mind of Voltaire the outrages which he and his kinswoman had suffered at Frankfort.
[Insert sample Fritz/Voltaire exchange of mutual vitriol here.]
An explosion of this kind, it might be supposed, would necessarily put an end to all amicable communication. But it was not so. After every out break of ill-humor this extraordinary pair became more loving than before, and exchanged compliments and assurances of mutual regard with a wonderful air of sincerity.
The English ambassador, Mitchell, who knew that the King of Prussia was constantly writing to Voltaire with the greatest freedom on the most important subjects, was amazed to hear His Majesty designate this highly-favored correspondent as a bad-hearted fellow, the greatest rascal on the face of the earth. And the language which the poet held about the king was not much more respectful. Macaulay thinks Selena should write that Yuletide AU where Voltaire saves Fritz:
It would probably have puzzled Voltaire himself to say what was his real feeling towards Frederick. It was compounded of all sentiments, from enmity to friendship, and from scorn to admiration; and the proportions in which these elements were mixed changed every moment. The old patriarch resem bled the spoiled child who screams, stamps, cuffs, laughs, kisses, and cuddles within one quarter of an hour. His resentment was not extinguished; yet he was not without sympathy for his old friend. As a Frenchman, he wished success to the arms of his country. As a philosopher, he was anxious for the stability of a throne on which a philosopher sat. He longed both to save and to humble Frederick. There was one way, and only one, in which all his conflicting feelings could at once be gratified. If Frederick were preserved by the interference of France, if it were known that for that interference he was indebted to the mediation of Voltaire, this would indeed be delicious revenge; this would indeed be to heap coals of fire on that haughty head.
"Voltaire was selected for the mission" - well, according to the books I've read so far, he selected himself and constantly badgered his acquaintances at court to be enlisted as a spy; at one point he was, but Louis XV. never put much credence in his ability to deliver the goods.
We have no hesitation in saying that the poorest author of that time in London, sleeping on a bulk, dining in a cellar, with a cravat of paper, and a skewer for a shirt-pin, was a happier man than any of the literary inmates of Frederick's court.
Marquis D'Argens: Having been to London, yeah, no. Thanks but no thanks. Vive le roi de Prusse!
Casanova: I'm with him. Granted, I only had a few meetings with the man, and there was that awkward quiz about hydraulics, but still. I've been to London. The stink alone...
this would indeed be delicious revenge; this would indeed be to heap coals of fire on that haughty head.
A correspondence followed, which may be studied with advantage by those who wish to become proficients in the ignoble art of flattery.
LOL!
and that the unlucky versifier who bored him with reams of middling Alexandrians, was the most vigilant, suspicious, and severe of politicians.
This is all SO GREAT.
It was in vain that a long succession of favorites who had entered that abode with delight and hope, and who, after a short term of delusive happiness, had been doomed to expiate their folly by years of wretchedness and degradation, raised their voices to warn the aspirant who approached the charmed threshold
Man this guy can turn a phrase!
Neither can we pause to tell hew often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and toleration— the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government.
Voltaire is so interesting. He's never going to be my favorite, but he is so fascinating :D
He would not, we are confident, for the half of Frederick's kingdom have consented to father Frederick's verses.
HA HA HA HA well even if he's mistaken as to why Fritz wanted them back, this at least I can't disagree with
Macaulay thinks Selena should write that Yuletide AU where Voltaire saves Fritz:
HA HA HA HA well even if he's mistaken as to why Fritz wanted them back, this at least I can't disagree with
Quite, and I have to say, Fritz wanting the poems back because he thought Voltaire would plagiarize his immortal poetry is something I don't think anyone either gentleman would have believed. (It's certainly not something Fritz ever claimed in any letter of his that I've read.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Re: Macaulay - Voltaire
Date: 2020-09-03 02:25 am (UTC)No man ever paid compliments better than Voltaire...It was only from his hand that so much sugar could be swallowed without making the swallower sick.
After Fritz betrays his allies by concluding a separate peace during the First Silesian War; France sends Voltaire to spy on him and try to get him back to fighting for them:
The court of Versailles, in this peril, looked to Frederick for help. He had been guilty of two great treasons, perhaps he might be induced to commit a third.
Voltaire was selected for the mission. He eagerly undertook the task ; for, while his literary fame filled all Europe, he was troubled with a childish craving for political distinction. He was vain, and not without reason, of his address, and of his insinuating eloquence; and he flattered himself that he possessed boundless influence over the King of Prussia. The truth was that he knew, as yet, only one corner of Frederick's character. He was well acquainted with all the petty vanities and affectations of the poetaster; but was not aware that these foibles were united with all the talents and vices which lead to success in active life; and that the unlucky versifier who bored him with reams of middling Alexandrians, was the most vigilant, suspicious, and severe of politicians.
The negotiation was of an extraordinary description. Nothing can be conceived more whimsical than the conferences which took place between the first literary man and the first practical man of the age, whom a strange weak ness had induced to exchange their parts. The great poet would talk of nothing but treaties and guaran ties, and the great king of nothing but metaphors and rhymes. On one occasion Voltaire put into his Majesty's hand a paper on the state of Europe, and received it back with verses scrawled on the margin. In secret they both laughed at. each other. Voltaire did not spare the king's poems ; and the king has left on record his opinion of Voltaire's diplomacy. "He had no credentials," says Frederick, "and the whole mission was a joke, a mere farce."
Voltaire about to move to Prussia:
Potsdam was, in truth, what it was called by one of its most illustrious inmates, the Palace of Alcina. At the first glance it seemed to be a delightful spot, where every intellectual and physical enjoyment awaited the happy adventurer. It was in vain that a long succession of favorites who had entered that abode with delight and hope, and who, after a short term of delusive happiness, had been doomed to expiate their folly by years of wretchedness and degradation, raised their voices to warn the aspirant who ap proached the charmed threshold...We have no hesitation in saying that the poorest author of that time in London, sleeping on a bulk, dining in a cellar, with a cravat of paper, and a skewer for a shirt-pin, was a happier man than any of the literary inmates of Frederick's court.
But of all who entered the enchanted garden in the inebriation of delight, and quitted it in agonies of rage and shame, the most remarkable was Voltaire.
Fritz and Voltaire are squabbling about the terms of Voltaire's employment:
It seemed that the negotiation would be broken off; but Frederick, with great dexterity, affected indifference, and seemed inclined to transfer his idolatry to Baculard d'Arnaud. His Majesty even wrote some bad verses, of which the sense was, that Voltaire was a setting sun, and that Arnaud was rising. Good-natured friends soon carried the lines to Voltaire. He was in his bed. He jumped out in his shirt, danced about the room with rage, and sent for his passport and his post-horses. It was not difficult to foresee the end of a connection which had such a beginning.
The honeymoon doesn't last long:
This eccentric friendship was fast cooling. Never had there met two persons so exquisitely fitted to plague each other...
Both were angry, and a war began, in which Frederick stooped to the part of Harpagon, and Voltaire to that of Scapin. It is humiliating to relate that the great warrior and statesman gave orders that his guest's allowance of sugar and chocolate should be curtailed. It is, if possible, a still more humiliating fact that Voltaire indemnified himself by pocketing the wax candles in the royal antechamber.
Harpagon and Scapin are title characters in Molière plays: a miser and a schemer.
D'Arnaud and D'Argens, Guichard and La Metrie, might, for the sake of a morsel of bread, be willing to bear the in solence of a master; but Voltaire was of another order. He knew that he was a potentate as well as Frederick; that his European reputation, and his incomparable power of covering whatever he hated with ridicule, made him an object of dread even to the leaders of armies and the rulers of nations. In truth, of all the intellectual weapons which have ever been wielded by man, the most terrible was the mockery of Voltaire. Bigots and tyrants, who had never been moved by the wailing and cursing of millions, turned pale at his name.
We cannot pause to recount how often that rare talent was exercised against rivals worthy of esteem —how often it was used to crush and torture enemies worthy only of silent disdain—how often it was perverted to the more noxious purpose of destroying the last solace of earthly misery and the last restraint on earthly power. Neither can we pause to tell hew often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and toleration— the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government. This is not the place for a full character of Voltaire.
After Voltaire gets involved in fraudulent transactions and tries swindling a banker:
The king was delighted at having such an opportunity to humble his guest; and bitter reproaches and complaints were exchanged. Voltaire, too, was soon at war with the other men of letters who surrounded the king; and this irritated Frederick, who, however, had himself chiefly to blame. for, from that love of tormenting which was in him a ruling passion, he perpetually lavished extravagant praises on small men and bad books, merely in order that he might enjoy the mortification and rage which on such occasions Voltaire took no pains to conceal. His Majesty, however, soon had reason to regret the pains which he had taken to kindle jealousy among the members of his household. The whole palace was in a ferment with literary intrigues and cabals.
The big breakup in full swing:
Voltaire had in his keeping a volume of the king's poetry and forgot to return it. This was, we believe, merely one of the oversights which men setting out upon a journey often commit. That Voltaire could have meditated plagiarism is quite incredible. He would not, we are confident, for the half of Frederick's kingdom have consented to father Frederick's verses. The king, however, who rated his own writings much above their value, and who was inclined to see all Voltaire's actions in the worst light, was enraged to think that his favor ite compositions were in the hands of an enemy as thievish as a daw and as mischievous as a monkey.
Macaulay doesn't seem to be familiar with the explanation that Fritz was afraid that other leading Europeans would find out he had written such things about them.
Macaulay's verdict on the Frankfurt episode:
It is absurd to say that this outrage is not to be attributed to the king. Was anybody punished for it? Was anybody called in question for it? Was it not consistent with Frederick's character? Was it not of a piece with his conduct on other similar occasions? Is it not notorious that he repeatedly gave private directions to his officers to pillage and demolish the houses of persons against whom he had a grudge—charging them at the same time to take their measure in such a way that his name might not be compromised? He acted thus towards Count Buhl in the Seven Years' War. Why should we believe that he would have been more scrupulous with regard to Voltaire?
Fritz and Voltaire start corresponding again during the Seven Years' War:
We do not know any collection of letters which throw so much light on the darkest and most intricate parts of human nature as the correspondence of these strange beings after they bald exchanged forgiveness. Both felt that the quarrel had lowered them in the public estimation. They admired each other. They stood in need of each other. The great king wished to be handed down to posterity by the great writer. The great writer felt himself exalted by the homage of the great king. Yet the wounds which they had inflicted on each other were too deep to be effaced, or even perfectly healed. Not only did the scars remain ; the sore places often festered and bled afresh.
The letters consisted for the most part of compliments, thanks, offers of service, assurances of attachment. But if anything brought back to Frederick's recollection the cunning and mischievous pranks by which Voltaire had provoked him, some expression of contempt and displeasure broke forth in the midst of his eulogy. It was much worse when anything recalled to the mind of Voltaire the outrages which he and his kinswoman had suffered at Frankfort.
[Insert sample Fritz/Voltaire exchange of mutual vitriol here.]
An explosion of this kind, it might be supposed, would necessarily put an end to all amicable communication. But it was not so. After every out break of ill-humor this extraordinary pair became more loving than before, and exchanged compliments and assurances of mutual regard with a wonderful air of sincerity.
The English ambassador, Mitchell, who knew that the King of Prussia was constantly writing to Voltaire with the greatest freedom on the most important subjects, was amazed to hear His Majesty designate this highly-favored correspondent as a bad-hearted fellow, the greatest rascal on the face of the earth. And the language which the poet held about the king was not much more respectful.
Macaulay thinks Selena should write that Yuletide AU where Voltaire saves Fritz:
It would probably have puzzled Voltaire himself to say what was his real feeling towards Frederick. It was compounded of all sentiments, from enmity to friendship, and from scorn to admiration; and the proportions in which these elements were mixed changed every moment. The old patriarch resem bled the spoiled child who screams, stamps, cuffs, laughs, kisses, and cuddles within one quarter of an hour. His resentment was not extinguished; yet he was not without sympathy for his old friend. As a Frenchman, he wished success to the arms of his country. As a philosopher, he was anxious for the stability of a throne on which a philosopher sat. He longed both to save and to humble Frederick. There was one way, and only one, in which all his conflicting feelings could at once be gratified. If Frederick were preserved by the interference of France, if it were known that for that interference he was indebted to the mediation of Voltaire, this would indeed be delicious revenge; this would indeed be to heap coals of fire on that haughty head.
Re: Macaulay - Voltaire
Date: 2020-09-03 10:41 am (UTC)We have no hesitation in saying that the poorest author of that time in London, sleeping on a bulk, dining in a cellar, with a cravat of paper, and a skewer for a shirt-pin, was a happier man than any of the literary inmates of Frederick's court.
Marquis D'Argens: Having been to London, yeah, no. Thanks but no thanks. Vive le roi de Prusse!
Casanova: I'm with him. Granted, I only had a few meetings with the man, and there was that awkward quiz about hydraulics, but still. I've been to London. The stink alone...
this would indeed be delicious revenge; this would indeed be to heap coals of fire on that haughty head.
Indeed, and that's why that plot is so alluring.
Re: Macaulay - Voltaire
Date: 2020-09-05 04:52 am (UTC)LOL!
and that the unlucky versifier who bored him with reams of middling Alexandrians, was the most vigilant, suspicious, and severe of politicians.
This is all SO GREAT.
It was in vain that a long succession of favorites who had entered that abode with delight and hope, and who, after a short term of delusive happiness, had been doomed to expiate their folly by years of wretchedness and degradation, raised their voices to warn the aspirant who approached the charmed threshold
Man this guy can turn a phrase!
Neither can we pause to tell hew often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and toleration— the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government.
Voltaire is so interesting. He's never going to be my favorite, but he is so fascinating :D
He would not, we are confident, for the half of Frederick's kingdom have consented to father Frederick's verses.
HA HA HA HA well even if he's mistaken as to why Fritz wanted them back, this at least I can't disagree with
Macaulay thinks Selena should write that Yuletide AU where Voltaire saves Fritz:
And quite right he is!
Re: Macaulay - Voltaire
Date: 2020-09-05 08:03 am (UTC)Quite, and I have to say, Fritz wanting the poems back because he thought Voltaire would plagiarize his immortal poetry is something I don't think anyone either gentleman would have believed. (It's certainly not something Fritz ever claimed in any letter of his that I've read.)