d Voltaire everywhere, instead of applying.
Never applied; nor ever forgot. Would fain have engaged Collini to
apply,--especially when the French Armies had got into Frankfurt,--but
Collini did not see his way. [Three Letters to Collini on the subject
(January-May, 1759),--Collini,--pp. 208-211.]

So that, except as consolatory scolding-stock for the rest of his life,
Voltaire got nothing of his 76 pounds 10s., "with jewels and snuffbox,"
always lying ready in the Trunk for him. And it had, I suppose, at the
long last, to go by RIGHT OF WINDFALL to somebody or other:--unless,
perhaps, it still lie, overwhelmed under dust and lumber, in the garrets
of the old Rathhaus yonder, waiting for a legal owner? What became of
it, no man knows; but that no doit of it ever went Freytag's or
King Friedrich's way, is abundantly evident. On the whole, what an
entertaining Narrative is that of Voltaire's; but what a pity he had
ever written it!

This was the finishing Catastrophe, tragical exceedingly; which went
loud-sounding through the world, and still goes,--the more is the pity.
Catastrophe due throughout to three causes: FIRST, That Fredersdorf,
not Eichel, wrote the Order; and introduced the indefinite phrase
SKRIPTUREN, instead of sticking by the OEUVRE DE POESIES, the one
essential point. SECOND, That Freytag was of heavy pipe-clay nature.
THIRD, That Voltaire was of impatient explosive nature; and, in
calamities, was wont, not to be silent and consider, but to lift up his
voice (having such a voice), and with passionate melody appeal to the
Universe, and do worse, by way of helping himself!--

"The poor Voltaire, after all!" ejaculates Smelfungus. "Lean, of no
health, but melodious extremely (in a shallow sense); and truly very
lonely, old and weak, in this world. What an end to Visit Fifth; began
in Olympus, terminates in the Lock-up! His conduct, except in the Jew
Case, has nothing of bad, at least of unprovokedly bad. 'Lost my teeth,'
said he, when things were at zenith. 'Thought I should never weep
again,'--now when they are at nadir. A sore blow to one's Vanity, in
presence of assembled mankind; and made still more poignant by noises of
one's own adding. France forbidden to him [by expressive signallings];
miraculous Goshen of Prussia shut: (these old eyes, which I thought
would continue dry till they closed forever, were streaming in tears;'"
[Letter from "Mainz, 9th July," third day of rout or flight; To Niece
Denis