Marmontel says, what Plato was to Socrates, and nothing in the long
life of Voltaire shows him in a more charming light than does his
devotion to the young friend whom he called "the sweet hope of the
remainder of my days." After the death of the philosopher, Voltaire
wrote a brief, but invaluable, account of their relations, which had
lasted, without a cloud, until the death of Vauvenargues.

He reminded Voltaire of Pascal, whose "incurable disease was consoled
by study," but the elder friend noted a striking distinction; the
eloquence of Pascal was fiery and imperious, that of Vauvenargues was
"insinuating." The powerful physical force of Voltaire was softened by
the suffering of his young companion, for whom "nature had poured out
large draughts of hemlock," and who, "while all his body sank into
dissolution, preserved in spirit that perfect tranquillity which the
pure alone enjoy." Although Vauvenargues was twenty years younger than
his friend, Voltaire succumbed to the gravity of his demeanour; like
the fellow-officers at Arras or at Metz, we smile to find him
addressing Vauvenargues as _mon pere_. One of the philosopher's maxims
is, "Great thoughts proceed from the heart," and Voltaire in a note
has added, "In writing this, though he knew it not, he painted his own
portrait." He found in Vauvenargues "the simplicity of a timid child,"
and it seems that he had a difficulty in overcoming his modesty so far
as to make him write down those Reflections which are now placed for
ever among the masterpieces of French literature. It is to Voltaire
that we owe the fact that Vauvenargues found resolution enough to
become an author.

A typical instance of the mixture of courage and tact in the young
author is to be found in the attitude which he took up towards
Voltaire with regard to the Marquise de Pompadour, without in the
least offending his tempestuous friend. That remarkable young lady,
then still known as la petite Etoile, had succeeded in catching the
King's eye, and was soaring into the political heavens like a rocket,
carrying, among other incongruous objects, the genius of Voltaire in
her glittering train. Voltaire must have boasted to his young friend
that his fortune was made. Vauvenargues surprisingly expresses in his
reply the evil which must be done by great authors who flatter vice
and think to conceal its corruption by heaping flowers over a lie. The
incident is important for us, because it led Vauvenargu