with coquettes, their glances kindle jealousy—­and Frederick is a great coquette.  I must, therefore, drive my rivals from the field, and enjoy in peace the favor of the king.  Now which of my rivals are dangerous to me?  All! all!  I must banish them all!  I will sow such discontent and rage and malice and strife amongst them, that they will fly in hot haste, and thank God if I do not bite off their noses before they escape.  I will turn this, their laughing paradise, into a hell, and I will be the devil to chase them with glowing pitchforks.  Yes, even to Siberia will I drive this long-legged peacock, Maupertius—­him, first of all; then D’Argens, then Algarotti, then this over-wise and good Lord Marshal, and all others like him!  When Voltaire’s sun is in the ascendant, not even stars shall glitter; It shall not be!  I will prove to them that Voltaire’s fiery rays have burned them to ashes!” [Footnote:  Voltaire, OEuvres, p. 378.]

He laughed aloud, and seated himself to write a poem.  He was invited that evening to a soiree by the queen-mother, where he wished to shine as an improvisator.  Above all other things, he wished to win the heart of the Princess Amelia.  Since she had played the part of Aurelia, in “Rome Sauvee,” he had felt a passion for the princess, who had betrayed to the life the ardor and the pains of love, and whose great flaming eyes seemed, from their mysterious depths, to rouse the soul of the poet.  Voltaire had promised the Princess Amelia to improvise upon any subject she should select, and he relied upon his cunning to incline her choice in such a direction as to make the poem he was now writing appropriate and seem impromptu.

While thus occupied, his servant entered and announced a number of distinguished gentlemen, who were in the parlor, and wished to make the great author a morning visit.  “Let them all wait!” said Voltaire, angrily; declaring that this disturbance had cost him a piquant rhyme.

“But, gracious sir,” stammered the servant, “some of the most distinguished men of the court and the oldest generals, are there!”

“What do I care for their epaulets or their excellencies?  Let them wait, or go to the devil—­if they prefer it.”

Well, the eminent gentlemen waited; indeed, they waited patiently, until the great Voltaire, the favorite of the king, the universal French author, in his pride and arrogance was graciously pleased to show himself amongst the Dutch barbarians, and allow some rays of his intellect to fall upon and inspire them!

The saloon was indeed crowded with princes, generals, and nobles.  Voltaire had just returned to Berlin from Potsdam, and all hastened to pay their respects and commend themselves to his grace and favor. [Footnote:  Forney writes thus in his “Memoirs”:  “During the winter months which Voltaire spent in the palace of Berlin, he was the favorite of the court.  Princes, ambassadors, ministers, generals, nobles of the highest rank went to his morning receptions, and were often received by him with contemptuous scorn.  A great prince was pleased to play chess with him, and allowed him every time to win the stake of two louis d’or.  It was declared, however, that sometimes the gold disappeared before the end of the game, and could not be found.”—­“Souvenirs d’un Citoyen.”]