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I had made a present of a copy of the "Iliad" to the learned Marquis d'Argens; to his daughter, who was also a good scholar, I gave a Latin tragedy. The "Iliad" had Porphyry's comment; it was a copy of a rare edition, and was richly bound. As the marquis came to Aix to thank me, I had to pay another visit to the country house. In the evening I drove back in an open carriage.
"Say CONTENT, marquis. I believe that is the highest point any man attains upon this earth. And now let us enter the house." He took the arm of the marquis, and then stepped over the golden sand to the large glass door which led to the round saloon. As Frederick opened the door he fixed his great blue eyes steadily upon D'Argens.
The believers and the unbelievers, the pietists and the atheists may speak alike freely; the spirit of persecution shall be forever banished from Prussia." "Amen," cried D'Argens solemnly, as he glanced at the excited, beaming countenance of the king. "The spirit of love and of freedom hears your words, my king, and they will be written with a diamond-point in the history of Prussia."
In the midst of his brilliant court circle and all his earthly pomp, D'Argens did not forget that Frederick was a man of letters, and his dear friend; even so, while enjoying the hospitalities of Sans- Souci, he remembered always that the genial scholar and gentleman was a great and powerful king.
The king was no longer angry, but melancholy, and the smile that played on his lip was so resigned and painful that the brave Marquis d'Argens would have wept had he seen it, and the stinging jest of Voltaire have been silenced. But neither the marquis nor Voltaire, nor any of his friends were at present in Potsdam.
"I think," said Voltaire, "you have never been a believer, or made a convert; you have made nothing but debts." "That is, perhaps, because I am not a great writer, and do not understand usury and speculation," said D'Argens, quietly. "Besides, no courtesan made me her heir, and no mistress obtained me a pension!"
When all this had been painted in the most glowing colors, when his wounds were laid bare, he wrote a last and touching farewell to his friend: "Adieu, D'Argens! dans ce tableau, De mon trepas tu vois la cause; Au moins ne pense pas du neant du caveau, Que j'aspire a l'apotheose.
The king had some cause to fear, for he had been severely treated by La Barbarina. In the king's bedroom we saw her portrait, that of La Cochois, sister to the actress who became Marchioness d'Argens, and that of Marie Theresa, with whom Frederick had been in love, or rather he had been in love with the idea of becoming emperor.
It is a real happiness to me to have you here, my dear D'Argens. You shall take the place of the Holy Father, and bless and consecrate a small spot of earth for me. With your pure lips you shall pray to the house gods for their blessing and protection on my hearth, and beseech them to pour a little joy and mirth into the cup of wormwood and gall which this poor life presses to our lips.
One evening D'Argens came to him; entering his Apartment, found him in a situation very unexpected; which has been memorable ever since. He had a little rod, with which he kept order among them, and shoved the best bits to his favorites.
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