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England, evidently knowing nobody there except one merchant, a man of no
special prominence.
Voltaire belonged to the nobility by divine right--as much as did
Disraeli. Both had an inward contempt for titles, but they knew the
hearts of the owners so well that they simply played a game of chess,
and the "men" they moved were live knights, bishops, kings and queens,
with rollers under the castles. The pawns they pushed here and there
were the literary puppets of the time.
The first thing Voltaire had to master in England was the language, and
this he did passably inside of three months. He took Grub Street by
storm; dawdled at Dodsley's; met Dean Swift, and these worthies
respected each other's wit so much that they simply took snuff, grimaced
and let it go at that; Pope came in for a visit, and the French poet
crossed Twickenham ferry and offered a handmade sonnet in admiration of
the "Essay on Man," which he had probably never read. Gay gave Voltaire
"The Beggar's Opera," in private, and together they called on Congreve,
who interrupted the Frenchman's flow of flattery long enough to say that
he wished to be looked on as a gentleman, not a poet. And Voltaire
replied that there were many gentlemen but few poets, and if Congreve
had had the misfortune to be simply a gentleman he would not have
troubled to call on him at all. Congreve, who really regarded himself as
the peer of Shakespeare, was won, and sent Voltaire on his way with
letters to Horace Walpole of Strawberry Hill. Thomson, who lived at
Hammersmith, and wrote his "Seasons" in a "public" next door to
Kelmscott, corrected and revised some of Voltaire's attempts at English
poetry. Young evolved some of his "Night Thoughts" while on a visit with
Voltaire at Bubb Dodington's.
A call on the Duchess of Marlborough led to a dinner at Lord
Chesterfield's. Next he met Queen Caroline and assured her that she
spoke French like a Parisian. King George the Second quite liked
Voltaire, because Voltaire quite liked Lady Sandon, his mistress. Only a
Frenchman could have successfully paid court to the King, Queen and Lady
Sandon at the same time, as Voltaire did. His great epic poem,
"Henriade," that he had been sandpapering for ten years, was now
published, dedicated to the Queen. The King headed the subscription-list
with more copies than he needed, at five guineas each, on agreement.
Voltaire afterward said that he would not be expected to read the poem.
The Queen'
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