’Whatever I have said to the disadvantage of these three poems, holds much stronger against Tasso’s ‘Gierusalemme’:  it is true he has very fine and glaring rays of poetry; but then they are only meteors, they dazzle, then disappear, and are succeeded by false thoughts, poor ‘concetti’, and absurd impossibilities; witness the Fish and the Parrot; extravagancies unworthy of an heroic poem, and would much better have become Ariosto, who professes ‘le coglionerie’.

I have never read the “Lusiade of Camoens,” except in prose translation, consequently I have never read it at all, so shall say nothing of it; but the Henriade is all sense from the beginning to the end, often adorned by the justest and liveliest reflections, the most beautiful descriptions, the noblest images, and the sublimest sentiments; not to mention the harmony of the verse, in which Voltaire undoubtedly exceeds all the French poets:  should you insist upon an exception in favor of Racine, I must insist, on my part, that he at least equals him.  What hero ever interested more than Henry the Fourth; who, according to the rules of epic poetry, carries on one great and long action, and succeeds in it at last?  What descriptions ever excited more horror than those, first of the Massacre, and then of the Famine at Paris?  Was love ever painted with more truth and ‘morbidezza’ than in the ninth book?  Not better, in my mind, even in the fourth of Virgil.  Upon the whole, with all your classical rigor, if you will but suppose St. Louis a god, a devil, or a witch, and that he appears in person, and not in a dream, the Henriade will be an epic poem, according to the strictest statute laws of the ‘epopee’; but in my court of equity it is one as it is.

I could expatiate as much upon all his different works, but that I should exceed the bounds of a letter and run into a dissertation.  How delightful is his history of that northern brute, the King of Sweden, for I cannot call him a man; and I should be sorry to have him pass for a hero, out of regard to those true heroes, such as Julius Caesar, Titus, Trajan, and the present King of Prussia, who cultivated and encouraged arts and sciences; whose animal courage was accompanied by the tender and social sentiments of humanity; and who had more pleasure in improving, than in destroying their fellow-creatures.  What can be more touching, or more interesting—­what more nobly thought, or more happily expressed, than all his dramatic pieces?  What can be more clear and rational than all his philosophical letters? and whatever was so graceful, and gentle, as all his little poetical trifles?  You are fortunately ‘a porte’ of verifying, by your knowledge of the man, all that I have said of his works.

Monsieur de Maupertius (whom I hope you will get acquainted with) is, what one rarely meets with, deep in philosophy and, mathematics, and yet ‘honnete et aimable homme’:  Algarotti is young Fontenelle.  Such men must necessarily give you the desire of pleasing them; and if you can frequent them, their acquaintance will furnish you the means of pleasing everybody else.