"He is something better than that," said the king; "mere erudition does not suffice to explain history. This man must have a mighty mind, and great knowledge of humanity. The only questions are whether this noble organization has been distorted by the desire of playing a whimsical part, and a disposition to attribute to himself eternal life and a knowledge of matters that happened before the birth of any that live, or whether deep study and meditation has not deranged his brain, and struck him with monomania?"
"I can at least assure your majesty of the good faith and modesty of our man. It is with great difficulty that he can be made to talk of the wonderful things he fancies he has seen. He is aware that he is treated as a dreamer and charlatan, and this seems to trouble him much. Now he refuses to explain his supernatural power."
"Well, sire, are you not anxious to see and hear him?" said La Mettrie. "I own I am."
"How so?" said the king. "Why be curious about that? The spectacle of folly is always sad."
"If it be folly, I own it. But what if it is not?"
"Listen, gentlemen," said Frederick. "This skeptic—this atheist pure—has faith in the wonderful, and believes in the eternal life of M. de Saint Germain! You need not be surprised; for La Mettrie believes in death, thunder and ghosts."
"I own that the latter is a weakness; but that my dread of death, and all that can inflict it, is but reason and wisdom. What the devil should one be anxious about, if not of safety and life?"
"Hurra for Panurge!" said Voltaire.
"I will return to Saint Germain," said La Mettrie; "Pontagruel must invite him to sup with us to-morrow."
"I will take care not to do so," said the king. "You are mad enough now, my poor friend; and were he once to put foot in my house, the superstitious imaginations which hang around us would, in a moment, fill Europe with countless strange tales. Ah! dear Voltaire, if the days of reason did but come—that is a prayer we should make every morning and evening."