MS CEL.LANEoU

For He .4rL,aasas Baaner. N0LTAIRE,S HORSE
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 It was about the year 176S, Voltaire was satiatcd with triumph. Long enough had Kings caressed. Philosophers fattered, fools adored, all the world admired him. He was tired of the friendship of Frederick the Great; weary of his quarrels with the Abbe Des- fontaines. The Marquis of Chatalet was dead Votaire felt lonely. Three-lourths of his existence had already passed away the great writer who could sit side by side with Kings, wished to be crowned in his turn, and possess a kingdom of his own, as Il his true empire was not already founded as if king of the age in which he lived, 1t was not he who held the most lasting scep- ire of the time The Capitol of his new cs- tate was not yet built, it is true but the court yard which was to embellish 1t was all ready. Ferney was soon built. shall not attempt description of the Castle of Fenev, the ' ersailles of tHc Philosopher Travellers will tell of the silence of its corridors, of the viduity of its large saloons-then why re- call the sorrow that seizes you at the sight of this wreck of past grandeur. Is 1t not sufficient to know, that Kings die. that Ph- losophers are eXtinguished. Royalty must perish, Philosophers must die, in order that man may be taught that there is nothing en- during here on earth How shall describe the painful impression made, by the sight of those bushy trees, planted by the hand that wrote ]Ierope. During twenty years, they ovefshadowed the illustrious brow, of the most finished of all writers; now waved about with the Alpine winds, and bent with age, they still tell the renoWn of their mas ter Of all the pomp and pageantry ofWhich they were witnesses, there remains nothing but the simple and modest yeneraton of few pilgrims, who occasionally come to visit the house of the Philosopher, the Palace of the Poet

 But have wandered from my subject, and have given way to the sad reflections that assailed me the first time visited Ferney l intended to be gay, and simply narrate an aueedote, told me by the keeper of the Cas- tie, who has no doubt, related it to many others for this old man of hundred years standing, has remained faithful occupant of the Philosophers house, and still exhibits to strangers his masters apartment. trust my readers will pardon this first Aggression. 1 return to my history of 1768.

 The Castle of Ferney soon became the capitol of Europe. Philosophy had already dethroned Royalty, Kings themselves render ed him homage, and this Sovereign in the person of Noltaire, received in a sumptuous manner, the yassalage of Princes. and of crowned heads There was indeed another capitol called {ersallcs, where a Monarch called Louis AF was crowned. But alas the blood of Robert, the strong, had stagna- ted in the veins of his great grand son. And the nobility of the world had lost it's chief The Duke of Choisieul eXiled by fayorite, held also his court at GhanteIodp, and all that had pertained 10 royalty, had followed their former Minister But neither Versailles or Ghanteloup, approached in celebrity that ot Femeya in truth, t must be said how ever, that this Court where Pr iaCes were compelled to beg an entrance, had allure ments little less noble than royalty. and Mad Denis, did the honors of the Palace in no very courtiy manner. But 1t must not be lor- gotten, that itWas Philosophers Court, and this title will serve, no doubt, to relax a litle, the severe rules of etiquette The Prince, or if you will, the Patriarch of Fer ncy was not at all times accessible. and no- ble yisiters were often compelled to return to their homes, without having seen the shad- ow of the Philosopher; who, however, eX- ercised the duties of hospitality in a most magnificent manner. He was ingloriouslv averse to the illustnous Gibbon. that third person in the Trinity of English Historians and whom poslerity will consent to name equal to both his cotempores, Hume and Ro- bertson. But let me return to the cause of Eoltaires's antPathy to Gibbon, and tell in a few lines, the origin of the quarrel between these two great men. A quarrel, which gave each an opportunity of displaying their wit and originality.

 Of all the historians who had written on the subject of Great Britain, Gibbon had ac- quired a name as the most faithful and con scjentious. His love of truth in his histori- cal writings had become proverbiaI, and the worthy writer carried his quakerism so far, that he would have abandoned twenty politi- cal or religious projects, rather than change in the slightest degree, the least historical fact. From this, probably, arises that var nish Of scepticism, which in general pervades all the works of this historian sceptcsm far preferable in our opinion to the imperti- nent aGrmatons of certain authors, who fear not to sacrifice facts, to the logic ofthcir opinions, and who have the presumption to impose on readers, the yoke of their sys- tematic reveries In our day, they would pity the conscientious author, who wished that truth should be the basis of his works and would be himself covered with lidcule by our modern historians, Yoltaire was of the 18th century, and truly none can accuse him of being too strictly attached to truth. Many, even of his enemies, say that he was the first to introduce among us the easy meth od of writing history with romance In short the author of the age of Louis XIV, had just added to his historical works, the adventures of the Hero of Sweden, and had pompously adorned his name with the title of s.lIistory of Charles XII" Gi6bon was indignant at this prostitution of talent. and wished to eX-