ou
who command France, whilst I, I ought to die in peace, not to displease
any person, and live wisely with all. I conclude, madame la comtesse,
this long and stupid epistle, which is, in fact, less a letter than a
real case for consideration, by begging you to believe me, etc.,

"VOLTAIRE

"_Ferney_, April 28, 1769. Gentleman in ordinary to the king.

"P. S. My enemies say everywhere that I am not a Christian. I have
just given them the lie direct, by performing my Easter devotions (_mes
paques_) publicly; thus proving to all my lively desire to terminate my
long career in the religion in which I was born; and I have fulfilled
this important act after a dozen consecutive attacks of fever, which
made me fear I should die before I could assure you of my respect and my
devotion."

This apology gave me real pleasure. I pretended to believe the
sincerity of him who addressed me, altho' he had not convinced me of his
innocence; and I wrote the following reply to M. de Voltaire, which a
silly pride dictates to me to communicate to you, in conjunction with
the letter of the philosopher:

"MONSIEUR:--Even were you culpable from too much friendship towards
those you cherish, I would pardon you as a recompense for the letter
you address to me. This ought the more to charm me, as it gives me the
certainty that you had been unworthily calumniated. Could you have said,
under the veil of secrecy, things disagreeable to a great king, for
whom, in common with all France, you profess sincere love? It is
impossible. Could you, with gaiety of heart, wound a female who never
did you harm, and who admires your splendid genius? In fact, could
those you call your friends have stooped so low as not to have feared
to compromise you, by making you play a part unworthy of your elevated
reputation? All these suppositions were unreasonable: I could not for a
moment admit them, and your two letters have entirely justified you. I
can now give myself up without regret to my enthusiasm for you and your
works. It would have been too cruel for me to have learnt with certainty
that he whom I regarded as the first writer of the age had become my
detractor without motive, without provocation. That it is not so I give
thanks to Providence.

"M. the duc d'Aiguillon did not deceive you when he told you that I fed
on your sublime poetry. I am in literature a perfect novice, and yet
am sensible of the true beauties which abound in your works. I am to be