Historical Miniatures Part 52

"Thank you."

"'O toi que sur le trone un feu celeste enflamme Des moi si ce grand art don't nous sommes epris, Est aussi difficile a Pekin qu'a Paris.

Ton peuple est-il soumis a cette loi si dure, Qui vent qu'avec six pieds d'une egale mesure

De deux Alexandrins, cote a cote marchants L'un serve pour la rime, et l'autre pour le sens?

Si bien que sans rien perdre, en bravant cet usage, On pourrait retrancher la moitie d'un ouvrage.'"

"Bravo! Very good!" broke in the King, who felt the sting of the satire but could control himself.

"But do you think that the Emperor will understand that--at any rate as you intend it?"

"If he does not understand it, then he is a blockhead...."

"But if he does, you may expect a declaration of war."

"China against Voltaire!"

"What would you do then?"

"I would beat them, as you do, with my troops, of course."

"But if the Emperor has more troops than you?"

"Then I should flee, of course, like you do, sire, or I let myself be put to flight, and so save my honour as a soldier."

The King was accustomed to Voltaire's impertinences, and he pardoned them for the moment, but stored them in his memory.

"But now, don't stick poking about in your room, Monsieur. Come out for a walk with me. We will philosophise in the cool of the evening. I have so much to say, and must put my thoughts in order for the great work."

"Sire, I will come immediately."

"No, now; I am waiting."

Monsieur Voltaire became nervous, and began to tidy his desk; he pulled out drawers, and protracted the business. But the King stood as if on guard, and watched him. At last the old man had to stop tidying up and come out, but his limbs twitched, and he shook himself, as though he wished to shake off something. The King led him down the third terrace, and turned to the right into the park, where they found a long avenue which led to a small circular open s.p.a.ce. Here there stood the Temple of Friends.h.i.+p.

There was an embarra.s.sing silence between them, but Frederick, who had learnt self-control, was the first to find the thread which they had lost. But he had to introduce the conversation by commencing with their present surroundings.

"What a peaceful evening, Monsieur! Peace in nature and in human life!

Have you noticed that there has been no war in the world for seven years--that is, since the Peace of Aachen?"

"Now I have not thought about it. Well, you can now expect the seven lean kine--I mean years."

"Who knows! You spoke just now of Kian Loung, the peaceful prince who philosophises and writes verses on tea-plant blossoms; who serves his people and makes them happy. His neighbour j.a.pan has enjoyed peace for a hundred years. In India the French and English are rivalling each other in trade. That is the great East, which we shall soon have to take into account--. If we consider our portion of the world, with which I reckon Egypt, the latter lies asleep under Pashas and Mamelukes. Greece, our motherland, has entered its last sleep. The Athens of Pericles is an appendage of the Sultan's harem, and is ruled by black eunuchs. Rome, or rather Italy, is parcelled out between Lorraine, the House of Bourbon, and Savoy. But in Rome is my friend Benedict XIV; he is also a man of peace, and the first Pope, moreover, who acknowledges the King of Prussia. He tolerates Protestants, helps forward science, and has allowed lat.i.tude and longitude to be measured...."

"And expelled the Jesuits, whom you, sire, have received. You ought not to have done that."

"What do you know of the Jesuits? In Spain we have Ferdinand VI, who encourages mining, combats the Inquisition, fosters the sciences."

"The itch for writing seems to be spreading over the earth like a pestilence."

"In England my uncle George, the pupil of Adam Smith, is working solely for the commercial prosperity of his country. The others we know. But we ought to remember the great discoveries of our century--fire-machines, thermometers, lightning-conductors, anchor-watches. In fact it is the Golden Age which has returned at this late epoch."

"Think only of the fire-machines which they now call steam-engines. And of the telegraphs! What may we not next expect!"

"War, of course."

"I have never loved war, as you know, but I have been driven to it."

"With the stick."

The King was not angry, but he was troubled that a remarkable man, who had been his friend and teacher, should commit such a _betise_.

"You are right; it was my father's stick, and I bless it. But although I do not believe that the Golden Age is before the door, yet I do see a brighter future in the distance."

"I see only clouds which foretell earthquakes. France is undermined; America is moving; all Europe is prepared to discard Christianity as a crab its sh.e.l.l; Economics are reduced to a science; nature is ransacked; we are on the verge of something novel and tremendous; I feel it already in my corns."

"I also! My leisure-time is drawing to an end, my Tusculum will be closed, and dreadful things are about to happen."

On the King's face at this moment there was such an indescribable expression of pain, as though he had foreseen the Seven Years' War which followed immediately on the seven years' of peace, and he seemed to be bowed to the earth bearing the destiny of his country and the future on his shoulders.

"Sire, at such moment, you need some religion."

"My duty is my religion. My G.o.d is the Providence which guides the destinies of the nations but leaves individuals to themselves! What are men that you should take notice of these ants?"

The conversation was interrupted by a person who appeared in the background and resembled a judicial official. Voltaire saw who it was, and became furious: "Your Majesty, how can you allow this rag-tag and bob-tail to enter the castle-park? Why do you not enclose it with iron gates and railings?"

"No," answered the King; "I am not the master of my own person, still less of this castle, but all have rights over me!"

"But this is atrocious! Can I not drive him away?"

"No, you cannot!"

The King beckoned, and the stranger approached with his hat in his hand.

"What do you want, my friend?" asked the King.

"Only to deliver a doc.u.ment to Monsieur Voltaire, your Majesty."

"Then do your duty."

The man handed the doc.u.ment to Voltaire, and retired. When the old man had opened and read it, he fell on his knees before the King and exclaimed, "Save me, sire!"

"That is your law-suit with Hirschel about the Saxon state papers. You thought to deceive each other and the public, but the Jew did not let you lead him by the nose, Monsieur, and now you are exposed as a falsifier!"

"Save me, your Majesty!"

"How can I?"