icals of a Most
Christian Majesty." Think what a stab; crueler than daggers through
one's heart: "Crebillon?" M. de Voltaire said nothing; looked nothing,
in those sacred circles; and never ceased outwardly his worship, and
assiduous tuning, of the Pompadour: but he felt--as only Phoebus Apollo
in the like case can!"Away!" growled he to himself, when this atrocity
had culminated. And, in effect, is, since the end of 1746 or so, pretty
much withdrawn from the Versailles Olympus; and has set, privately in
the distance (now at Cirey, now at Paris, in our PETIT PALAIS there),
with his whole will and fire, to do Crebillon's dead Dramas into
living oues of his own. Dead CATILINA of Crebillon into ROME SAUVEE of
Voltaire, and the other samples of dead into living,--that stupid old
Crebillon himself and the whole Universe may judge, and even Pompadour
feel a remorse!--Readers shall fancy these things; and that the world is
coming back to its old poor drab color with M. de Voltaire; his divine
Emilie and he rubbing along on the old confused terms. One face-to-face
peep of them readers shall now have; and that is to be enough, or more
than enough:--

VOLTAIRE AND THE DIVINE EMILIE APPEAR SUDDENLY, ONE NIGHT, AT SCEAUX.

About the middle of August, 1747, King Friedrich, I find, was at
home;--not in his new SANS-SOUCI by any means, but running to and fro;
busy with his Musterings, "grand review, and mimic attack on Bornstadt,
near Berlin;" INVALIDEN-HAUS (Military Hospital) getting built; Silesian
Reviews just ahead; and, for the present, much festivity and moving
about, to Charlottenburg, to Berlin and the different Palaces;
Wilhelmina, "August 15th," having come to see him; of which fine visit,
especially of Wilhelmina's thoughts on it,--why have the envious Fates
left us nothing!

While all this is astir in Berlin and neighborhood, there is, among the
innumerable other visits in this world, one going on near Paris, in the
Mansion or Palace of Sceaux, which has by chance become memorable. A
visit by Voltaire and his divine Emilie, direct from Paris, I suppose,
and rather on the sudden. Which has had the luck to have a LETTER
written on it, by one of those rare creatures, a seeing Witness, who
can make others see and believe. The seeing Witness is little Madame de
Staal (by no means Necker's Daughter, but a much cleverer), known as one
of the sharpest female heads; she from the spot reports it to Madame du
Deffand, who al