"Then age has no influence at your court."I shall not copy the "<Gazette de France>" to tell you of the sojourn of Christian VII at Paris. I am not writing the journal of this prince but of myself. The king one day said to me,"My brother of Denmark has expressed to the duc de Duras a great desire to pay his respects to you, if you will accede to his wishes. I leave you entirely sovereign mistress of yourself, not without some fear however that the young king will steal away your heart from me.""Ah, sire," I replied, "that is an unjust suspicion; I should be angry about it if it were not a joke, and would refuse to see the king of Denmark did I not know how fully you are assured of my attachment to you.""I should not be so jealous, madame, if I did not set so much value on it," was the reply of the king, as he kissed my hand.
The duc de Duras came the next day to inform me of the request of his new king. It was agreed, in order to keep the interview secret, that I should receive him at my own mansion in the Rue de la Jussienne, and that he should come there without suite, and with the strictest incognito. At the day and hour agreed he entered my house, escorting two strangers of admirable presence. One was the king of Denmark, under the name of comte de ------, and the other a nobleman of his suite. Christian VII appeared to me a very handsome man. He had large and singularly expressive eyes; too much so, perhaps, for their brilliancy was not of good augury;and I was not surprised at hearing subsequently that his reason had abandoned him, altho' he possessed and exerted his wit most perfectly during our conversation, in which he displayed the greatest gallantry. I could not reproach him with one single expression that was objectionable, altho' the subject of conversation was delicate. He discoursed of the feelings of the king towards me, and yet said not a word that was unsuited or out of place, nothing but what was in the best taste, and expressed with the utmost delicacy. I asked him if the ladies of Denmark were handsome. "I thought, madame," was his reply, "until now, that the ladies of my kingdom were the most lovely in Europe."We did not talk of myself only: Christian VII spoke of Paris with enthusiasm. "It is the capital of the world," he remarked, "and our states are but the provinces." He sought out our most celebrated <savants> and <literati>, and was particularly delighted with d'Alembert, Diderot, la Harpe, and M. the comte de Buffon. He greatly regretted that Voltaire was not in Paris, and expressed his great desire to see at Ferney the great genius (as he termed him) who instructed and amused the world. He appeared weary of the fetes which were given, and especially with the deadly-lively company of the two Duras. It was enough to kill you to have only one of them, and you may imagine the torture of being bored with both. The duke had promised Louis XV to be as amusing as possible too! After a conversation of three hours, which his majesty (of course) said had appeared but of a moment, he left me delighted with his person, wit, and manners.
When Louis XV saw me, he inquired my opinion of his Danish majesty.
"He is," I replied, "a well-educated king, and that they say is a rarity.""True," said Louis XV, "there are so many persons who are interested in our ignorance, that it is a miracle if we escape out of their hands as reasonable beings."I went on to tell the king our conversation.
"Ah," cried he, "here is one who will increase the vanity of the literary tribe: they want it, certainly. All these wits are our natural born enemies; and think themselves above us; and the more we honor them, the greater right do they assume to censure and despise us."This was the usual burden of his song: he hated men of learning.
Voltaire especially was his detestation, on account of the numerous epigrams which this great man had written against him; and Voltaire had just given fresh subject of offence by publishing "<La Cour du Roi Petaud" ("The Court of the King Petaud," ) a satire evidently directed as strongly against the king as your humble servant. M.
de Voltaire had doubtless been encouraged to write this libel by the Choiseul party. He was at a distance, judged unfavorably of me, and thought he could scourge me without compromising himself.
It was comte Jean who brought me these verses, in which there was less poetry than malevolence. I read them, was indignant, and wept. The duc d'Aiguillon came, and finding me in tears, inquired the cause.
"Here," said I, giving him the poem, "see if you can bear so gross an insult." He took the paper, cast his eyes over it, and having folded it up, put it into his pocket.
"It was ill done," said he, "to show this to you. I knew of it yesterday, and came now to talk with you of it.""I rely on you to do me justice."
"<Misericorde!>" cried the duke, "would you lose yourself in the eyes of all France? You would place yourself in a fine situation by declaring yourself the persecutrix of Voltaire. Only an enemy could have thus advised you.""That enemy was comte Jean."
"Then your imprudence equals your zeal. Do you not perceive the advantage it would give to your adversaries were we to act in this manner? To the hatred of the court would be united that of the <literati>, women, and young persons. Voltaire is a god, who is not to be smitten without sacrilege.""Must I then tamely submit to be beaten?""Yes, for the moment. But it will not last long; I have just written this letter to M. de Voltaire, that peace may be made between you:--"SIR,--The superiority of your genius places you amongst the number of the potentates of Europe.
Every one desires, not only to be at peace with you, but even, if it be possible, to obtain your esteem.
I flatter myself with being included in the ranks of your admirers; my uncle has spoken to you many times of my attachment to your person, and I embrace the opportunity of proving this by a means that now presents itself.