The Sun.
London, England, 1845-09-30 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON;

TEMPERAMENT OF VOLTAIRE.
His nature was open and ardent ; he had the irrita-
bility which oftentimes accompanies genius ; but he had
the warm temperament, the generous self-abandonment,
the uncalealating effusions of sentiment which was also
its attendant, and which sixty years' living in the world
never cured, hardly mitigated, in Voltaire. His ex-
pressions were, no doubt, stronger than his feelings,
but we know that this strength of expression bas a cer-
tain re-action, and excites the feelings in its turn, cer-
tainly is ever taken into the account when its object
makes a bad or a cold requital, and irritates the minds
from which it had proceeded, if in no other way, at
least by wounding their pride. Nothing can be more
extravagant than the technology of Voltaire's affections.
" My dearest friend" is too cold to be almost ever used ;
it is " my dear and adorable friend," " my guardian
angel," " my adorable friend," and often, to the Ar-
gentals especially, the union of both, " my adorable
angels." All philosophers are Newtons, all poets Vir-
gils, all historians Sallusts, all marshals erasers. The
work of the President Henault is not certainly " son,"
but " var. charmante, votre immorel ou'vrage," being
the most dry and least charming history that ever was
penned, and which never would be read but as a con-
venient chronicle. The expressions of affection, of eter-
nal, warm, even passionate affection, are lavished con-
stantly and indifferently. Nay, to one friend, a Marsha'
and Duke (Richelieu), he says, addressing him as mon
seigneur, " Il y a dans Paris force vieilles et
eating I qui wins ayes fait passer de joyeux moments,
mais it nyen a point qui vous aime plus de moi." With
all this vehemence of feeling and facility of effusion, as
well as of exaggeration, there was joined an irritability
that *aught on cold fits occasionally, and then the snow,
or ra r the hail, fell as easily and abundantly as the
tepid showers had before descended. Nothing can ex-
ceed his affection for his nieces, especially for Madame
Denis ; but lie must have outraged her feelings severely
to draw from her such a letter as she wrote in 1754. The
same exaggeration that pervades his expressions towards
others is observable in all that he writes himself, whe-
ther upon the sufferings of his mind, or those, somewhat
mire real, of his body. He had, unhappily, a feeble con-
stitution, and having taken little care of it in early life,
he was a confirmed invalid for the rest of bis days ; but
especially between forty and sixty. He suffered from
both bladder complaints and those of the ali-
mentary canal ; and his surgical maladies, besides the
pain and irritation which they directly occasioned,
gave him all the sufferings and inconveniences of a bad
digestion. There was, therefore, a sufficient foundation
for frequent recourse to the state of his health. But he
writes as if he was not merely in constant danger: be is
generally at the point of death, and it is observable, that
the more deeply he is engaged in any vexatious dispute,
and the more he has, or thinks he has, occasion to com-
plain of maltreatment, the more regularly and the more
vehemently does he describe his alarming, nay, his dying
condition. In such circumstances it is a figure never
wanting to round a period, or to fill up the measure of
his own wrongs and bis adversary's oppressions. It is
singular that a man of his genius, one especially who had
so well studied the human heart, and painted so strik-
ingly the dignity of our nature, should invariably, and
even with the least worthy antagonist, prefer being
plaintive to being powerful, and rather delight in being
the object of compassion than of terror.—Lord
Brougham's Lives of Men of Letters.

lushes