The notion which some have taken, that Voltaire was ignorant of or at least imperfectly acquainted with the English language, and into which an accomplished though somewhat prejudiced critic has among others been betrayed, is purely fanciful: he had as thorough a knowledge of it as could be acquired by a foreigner; perhaps a greater familiarity and easier use of it than any other ever had. He wrote it with ease, and with perfect correctness, in the earlier part of his life, hardly making any mistakes-certainly none which a little care would not have prevented. I have lately seen a letter of his, thanking an author for the present of his book, probably Sir H. Sloane; and there is but one word, lectors for readers, wrong; nor is there the very least restraint in the style, which is also quite idiomatic, as when he speaks of his "crazy constitution." Ills for maux, meaning complaints, has the authority of Shakspeare, if indeed any authority were required to justify this use of the word. The Gallicism or mistake of lectors proves that he himself wrote this letter, and sent it without any one revising it. While visiting England, in 1727, he published an essay on the Civil Wars of France,' with remarks on the Epic Poetry of all Ages,'-a small octavo, or large duodecimo volume, intended to illustrate the Henriade,' of which, as has been observed, an edition was published at that time by subscription. The English is perfectly correct, and the diction quite easy and natural. There is a copy in the British Museum, with these words on the title-page, in his own hand-"To Sir Hanslone (Hans Sloane), from his obedient servant, Voltaire." In his latter years he spoke English with great difficulty, and seldom attempted it; but that he retained his familiarity with the language, and could easily write it, we have the clearest evidence in two excellent lines which he wrote when in his eightieth year to Dr. Cradock, who had sent him a copy of his drama, 'Zobeide,' chiefly borrowed from Voltaire's 'Scythes:'

"Thanks to your muse, a foreign copper shines,
Turn'd into gold, and coin'd in sterling lines."

Nor is our admiration of this facility of English diction lessened by the consideration that the idea is in some degree imitated from Roscommon. H. Walpole has indeed with a gross exaggeration said respecting his letter to Lord Lyttelton, that not one word of it is tolerable English; but he may late in life have lost the facility of writing in a language not acquired while a child, as we know that both with "Lord Loughborough and Lord Erskine the Scottish accent returned in old age, though they had got entirely rid of it during the middle period of life.

After the details of his life, and the full consideration of his various works, it would be a very superfluous task to attempt summing up the character of Voltaire, either as regards his intellectual or his moral qualities. The judgment to be pronounced on these must depend upon the details of fact and the particular opinions already given, and no general reflections could alter the impression which these must already have produced.

One part only of his composition has had no place, and derived no illustration from the preceding pageshis convivial qualities, or colloquial powers. These are on all hands represented as having been admirable. He was of a humour peculiarly gay and lively; he had no impatience of temper in society; his irritability was reserved for the closet, and his gall flowed only through the pen. Then his vast information on all subjects, and his ready wit, never failing, but never tiring, added to his having none of the fastidious taste which prevents many great men from enjoying the humours of society themselves, while it casts a damp and a shade over the cheerful hours of others—all must have conspired to render his company a treat of the highest order. His odd and unexpected turns gave his wit a zest that probably never belonged to

any other man's. His writings give us some taste of this; and there are anecdotes on record, or at least preserved by tradition, of jokes of which they who read his works at once recognise him as the author. When the Dijon academicians presented him with the place of an honorary member, observing that their academy was a daughter of the Parisian body-"Eh! oui:" said he, "eh! et une bonne fille, je vous en réponds, qui ne fera jamais parler d'elle."-When at some family party the guests were passing the evening in telling stories of robbers, and it came to his turn"Once upon a time (he began)-Jadis, il y avoit, un fermier-général- -ma foi, Messieurs, j'ai oublié

le reste."

66

When St. Ange, who plumed himself on the refined delicacy of his flattery, said, on arriving at Ferney, 'To-day I have seen Homer; to-morrow I shall see Sophocles and Euripides, then Tacitus, then Livy :" "Ah! Monsieur," said his ancient host, alarmed at the outline of a long visit, which he seemed fated to see filled up, "Ah, Monsieur! je suis horriblement vieux. Ne pourriez vous pas tâcher les voir tous le même jour?" The sketch probably was left unfinished by this interruption. So when an English traveller who had been to see Haller, heard Voltaire speak loudly in his praise, and expressed admiration of this candour, saying Haller spoke not so well of him: "Hélas!" was the admirable answer, se peut bien que nous nous trompons, tous les deux." A rebuke was graver administered by him to an old lady who expressed her horror at finding herself under the same roof with a declared enemy of the Supreme Being, as she was pleased to term Voltaire :-" Sachez, madame, que j'ai dit plus de bien de Dieu dans un seul de mes vers que vous n'en penserez de votre être."

"il

A striking picture of his powers of conversation is given by Goldsmith, who passed an evening in his company about the year 1754. He describes it, after

saying generally that no man whom he had ever seen exceeded him; and Goldsmith had lived with the most famous wits of the world, especially of his own country-with Burke, Windham, Johnson, Beauclerk, Fox. There arose a dispute in the party upon the English taste and literature. Diderot was the first to join battle with Fontenelle, who defeated him easily, the knowledge of the former being very limited on the subject of the controversy. Voltaire," says Goldsmith, "remained silent and passive for a long while, as if he wished to bear no part in the argument which was going on. At last, about midnight, he began, and spoke for nearly three hours, but in a manner not to be forgotten-his whole frame was animated-what eloquence, mixed with spirit-the finest strokes of raillery-the greatest elegance of language the utmost sensibility of manner! Never was I so much charmed, nor ever was so absolute a victory as he gained."*

To enter further on any general description, when all the particulars have been gone over, would be absurd. It is, however, fit to remark that the odium which has cast a shadow on a name that must otherwise have shone forth with pure and surpassing lustre, is partly at least owing to the little care taken to conceal his unpopular opinions, which is no sufficient ground of blame. But in part, it is owing to that which is exceedingly blameable, the unsparing bitterness of his invective on all the honest prejudices (as even he must have deemed them) of believers, and the unceasing ribaldry of his attacks on those opinions, which whether he thought them true or not, had at any rate the sanction of ages, the support of established institutions, and the cordial assent of the vast majority of mankind. The last twenty years of his life were devoted to a constant warfare with these sentiments. Had he con

Prior's edition of O. Goldsmith's Works, iii. 223.

fined himself to discussion, had he only brought the resources of his universal learning and acute reasoning to bear upon the religious belief of his contemporaries, no one would have had a right to complain, and no rational Christian would ever have complained, if the twenty volumes which he thus wrote had been multiplied twenty fold, or even so as "that all the world could not contain the books which should have been written." But there is a perpetual appeal from the calm reason of the reflecting few to the laugh of the thoughtless many; a substitution often, generally an addition, of sneer, and gibe, and coarse ridicule, to argumentation; a determination to cry down and laugh down the dogmas which, with his learning and his reason, he was also assaulting in lawful combat. And the consequence has been, that although nothing can be more inaccurate than the notion that he never argues, never produces any proofs which make their appeal to the understanding, yet he passes with the bulk of mankind for a profane scoffer, and little more. The belief of D'Alembert was exactly the same with his own; he has left abundance of letters which show that he had as much zeal against religion as his master, and entered with as much delight into all his endless ribaldry at the expense of the faith and the faithful;* but because he never publicly joined in the assault, we find even those who most thoroughly knew his opinions, nay, bishops themselves, concurring in the chant of his

* See especially such letters as that in which he speaks of the 'Dictionnaire Philosophique,' calling it the Dictionnaire de Satan:-"Si j'avais des connaissances à l'imprimerie de Belzebuth, je m'empresserai de m'en procurer un exemplaire; car cette lecture m'a fait un plaisir de tous les diables." He says he has swallowed it, "Gloutonnement, en mettant les morceaux en double;" and adds-" Assurément si l'auteur va dans les états de celui qui a fait imprimer cet ouvrage infernal, il sera au moins son premier ministre: personne ne lui a rendu des services plus importans. (Cor. d'Al. 274.) The flippancy of this work, which threw D'Alembert into such raptures, is nearly equal to its great learning and ability. Thus, vol. vi. p. 274:-" Bon jour, mon ami Job! tu es un des plus grands originaux," &c. &c.