Voltaire (1877)
by Edward Bruce Hamley, edited by Margaret Oliphant Oliphant
HE TRIES COURTIERSHIP
4228592Voltaire — HE TRIES COURTIERSHIP1877Edward Bruce Hamley

CHAPTER XVI.

HE TRIES COURTIERSHIP.

Voltaire's attempt to gain a secure position by diplomacy had therefore failed. But he had yet another resource. His confidence, his manners, his powers of pleasing, and his ambition—all rendered courtiership a most promising career for him. He had already become a candidate for Court favour, not without some success, in the time of the Regent. Now his pretensions were far higher—the most celebrated man of letters existing could confer on the Court more lustre than he could possibly derive from it. And it would certainly appear that a Court with no great merits of its own to rest upon, could scarcely strengthen itself upon cheaper terms than by attaching to its interests the chief literary power of the nation. Fortifying himself with such sound reasoning, Voltaire opened his campaign for the conquest of the Court with an ode. Louis XV. was, in 1744, in the camp of the army which was besieging Fribourg. Thither Voltaire repaired, bearing with him his "Ode to the King." It begins, "Thou whose justice all Europe loves or fears;… king necessary to the world"—and so on. But notwithstanding this unscrupulous plastering of undeserving royalty, the effusion earned him no favour from its subject. In 1745 he tried again—and this time he had female influence to help him, more powerful than that of all the nine muses. The famous Madame de Pompadour was now the sultana regnant. Voltaire and she had been friends of old, when she was obscure Madame D'Etioles—and an opportunity occurred of turning her friendship to account. The Dauphin's wedding with a Spanish Princess was about to be celebrated; to the shows and spectacles Voltaire was called on to contribute a dramatic piece. Its title was "The Princess of Navarre:" he had, or professed to have, the meanest opinion of it; but, transfigured by the light of Madame de Pompadour's favour, it appeared so excellent that it gained for its author some lucrative offices at Court: he was appointed gentleman-in-ordinary of the chamber (whatever that may be), with permission to sell the dignity; and also Historiographer-Royal. Though gratified by these favours, he could not help seeing how inadequate was the occasion taken for bestowing them, and expressed his sense of the incongruity in a verse (not specially adapted for translation into English verse, nor a particularly good example of his style,) which says "My 'Henriade,' my 'Zaire,' and 'Alzire' never procured for me a single look from the king: I had a thousand enemies and very little glory—now, honours and benefits are showered on me for une farce de la Foire," which may fairly be translated "a burlesque at the Strand." But his Court-favour was entirely of the reflected kind: there was nothing personal in it, and of this he was made sensible before long. He celebrated the triumphal return of the king, after the Fontenoy campaign, by a piece called the "Temple of Glory," in which flattery as usual was not spared, and in which the king figured as "Trajan." After the performance, Voltaire was near Louis as he passed out attended by the poet's old friend, the Duke of Richelieu; and emboldened by the reception of his piece, he approached the Duke and said, loud enough for the king to hear, "Is Trajan satisfied?" The dull monarch replied only by a frigid, contemptuous glance. It has been asserted that Voltaire repelled Louis Quinze by the vivacity and familiarity of his eulogies—that the king would not admit the idea of counting men of letters and men of intellect for anything, or of tolerating them on any footing at Court: "It is not the fashion in France," said he.

Nevertheless, Voltaire's interest with the ruler's ruler procured for him, in 1746, the long-coveted distinction of a place in the French Academy. He imagined that henceforth he would find, in his associates, thirty-nine champions against his enemies, persecutors, and slanderers; but in this he was mistaken. Even his friend Madame de Pompadour began to fail him. Under some hostile influence she bestowed on the tragic poet Crebillon favours hitherto denied to Voltaire: his play of "Catiline" was brought out with extraordinary advantages, and his works were printed at the Louvre, though that distinction was even now refused to the "Henriade." It was natural that Voltaire should feel sore at this: he withdrew from Court to his retreat at Cirey; and there, among a multitude of works, he employed himself in making such reprisals upon Crebillon as would never have originated in any but a mind of astonishing activity and energy. He had always rendered honour to his brother dramatist, whose repute, indeed, rested upon very just foundations: nor did he now condescend to any sort of detraction; but taking the subjects of three of Crebillon's tragedies, he treated them himself. "Semiramis" retained its name; "Electre" became "Oreste;" 'Catiline" was "Rome Sauvée:" and into these plays, especially the last, Voltaire infused a force and brilliancy which left no doubt of his superiority, on the ground they occupied in common, to his favoured rival.