Spirit of the times. [volume] (Ironton, Ohio) 1853-1858, 1855-04-10

torrerts of bitter words--his stamping
and cursng--his grimaces and his tears
of rage--were rich feast 10 those alb.
ject natures, whose delight is in the ag.
onies Of powerful spirits, and in the
abasement of immortal names. These
creatures had now found way Of gal
ling to the very quick. In one walk, at
least, it had been admitted by envy it.
self that he was without living com.
petitor. Since Racine had been laid a.
mong the great men whose ashes make
the holy precinct of Port Royal holicr,
no tragic poet had appeared who could
contest the palm with the author Of Al.
zire, Of Zairc, and Merope. At length,
a rival was announced Old CrebIlon,
who, many years before, had obtained
some theatrical success, and who had
long been forgotten, came forth from his
garret in ole Of the meanest lanes, near
the Rue st. Aatoine, and was welcomed
by tho accIamations of envious men Of
letters and Of capricious populace.--
A thing called Cataline, which he had
written in his retirement was acted with
boundlcss applause. OF this execrable
piece !, is sufficient to say that the plot
turns on II love affair carried on in all
tie forms of Scudery, between Cataline,
whose confidantc is PrGter Lenlulus,
and Tullia. the daughter Of Cicero
The theatre resounded with acclamations
The king pensioned the successful poet,
and the coffee houses pronounced that
Voltaire war clever man, but that the
real tragic inspiration, the celestial fire
which glowsd in CorneIle and Racine,
was 10 be found in Crebillon alone.
The blow went 10 Volaire's heart
Had his wisdom and fortituJe been in
proportion to the fertility of his genius,
and to the brillancy Of his wit, he wo'd
have seen that it was out of the power
OF all the pulfers and de,ractors in Eu-
rope to put Cataline above Zaire, but
he had mono Of the magnanimous pa.
tience with which Milton and Bentley
left their claims to the unerring judg'
ment Of Time. He eagerly engaged in
an undignilied competition with Crebil.
on, and produced series Of plays on
the same subjects which his rival had
treated. These pieces were cooly re-
ceived. Angry with the court, angry
with the capital, Voltaire began to ind
pleasure in the prospect Of exile. His
attachment for Madame dc Chatelet long
prevented him from executing his pur
pose. Her death set him at liberty, ant
he determined to take refuge in Berlin.
J To Berlin he was invited in a scrie!
Of letters couched in the most cnthusi
= astic terms of friendship and admiration
For once, the rigid parsimony Of Fred
erick the Great seemed to have relaxed
Is Orders. honorable offices, liberal pen
l. sion, we'll served table, stately apart
e ments under royal roof, were offered il
II return for the pleasure and honor whicl
S. were expected from the society Of I'll
!, first wit OF the age. A thousand loui
"a were RENTED for the charges Of the our
II ney. No ambassador setting out (ror
y Berlin for court Of the first rank ha
a been more amply supplied. But Vol
ID taire was not satisfied. At later peri
'e cd, when he possessed an ample fortune
'e he was ono OF the most liberal Of men
te but till his means had become equal t.
ID his wishes, his greediness for lucre wa
n unrestrained either by justice or shame
a. He had the elfrontery to ask for thou
% sand louis moro in order to enable hin
II to bling his niece, Madame Dennis, til
L. usliest of coquettes, in his company
L. The indelicate rapacity of the poet pro
q. duced its natural effect on the severe an
OF frugal king. The answer was dry ri
H. (usal. II did not" said his majesty
a. "solict the honor Of the. lady's society.
On this, Vol,aire went of into a parox
ry ysm Of childish rage. "Was there eve
such avarice? He has hundred tul
ed full of dollars in his vaults, and haggle
IA with me about poor thousand louis
III 1t seemed that the negotiation would
l. broken Off but Frederic, with great de,
'e terity affected Indifference, and SCENE
$, inclined 10 transfer his idolatry to Bac
ad lard D'Arnaud. His majesty even wro
ty somo bad verses, Of which the sense W;
ef that Voltaire was setting sun, and tn
'le Arnaud was rising. Good natured frien'
TO- soon carried the lines 10 .Vollaire. f
as was in his bed He jumped out in h
lis shirt, and and danced about the roo
'se with rage, and sent for his passport, al
oi post.horses. 1t was not difficult to for
'er see the end Of connection which h;
on such beginning.
ne 1t was in the year 1850, that Voltai
es' left The great capital which he was IL
ch to see again till, after the lapse Of nea
les ly thirty years, he returned to die in t
ILL., midst Of splendid and CHASTITY trump
- His reception in Prussia was such
we might we'll have elated less vain a.
we excitable mind. He wrote to his frien
WI at Paris thatthe kindness and the atte
- tion with which he had been welcom
III surpassed descriptiOn-that the king "
RS, the most amiable Of men-that Pc
ere dam was the Paradise Of philosophe
ow He was created chamberlain, and
'ck ceived, together with his gold key,
or cross Of an order, and patent ensuri
lcn him pension of eight hundred pour
nas sterling year for life. A hundred a
yet sixty pounds year were promised to
ol niece if she survived him. The ro,
pe cooks and coachmen were put at his d
seii posal. He was lodged in the same
lna' artments in which SAKE had lived, wi
at.y at the hight Of power and glory, he /