There was generally a supper after the play, where more
than once two hundred people sat down, and Voltaire had something to say
to every one of his guests. As the gates of the town are shut at night,
many of them usually remained in the _chateau_, poorly accommodated with
beds. One night as M. de B----, was groping in the dark, for a place
where he might lie down to sleep, he accidently put his finger into the
mouth of M. de Florian, who bit it.
Voltaire kept company only with the aristocracy of Geneva; neither his
liberality nor his wit secured him the good-will of the patriots placed
out of the sphere of his influence; they only saw him a sham
philosopher, without principles and solidity; a courtier, the slave of
rank and fashion; the corrupter of their country, of which he made a
jest. _Quand je secoue ma perruque,_ he used to say, _je poudre toute la
republique!_
Whatever might be Voltaire's antipathy to the visits of strangers at his
_chateau_, he seems to have met with an equal specimen of that temper
from an Englishman. When in London, he waited upon Congreve, the poet,
and passed him some compliments as to the reputation and merit of his
works.
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