“These gentlemen are English,” said Voltaire; “I wish I were.”
I thought the compliment false and out of place; for the gentlemen were obliged to reply out of politeness that they wished they had been French, or if they did not care to tell a lie they would be too confused to tell the truth. I believe every man of honour should put his own nation first.
A moment after, Voltaire turned to me again and said that as I was a Venetian I must know Count Algarotti.
“I know him, but not because I am a Venetian, as seven-eighths of my dear countrymen are not even aware of his existence.”
“I should have said, as a man of letters.”
“I know him from having spent two months with him at Padua, seven years ago, and what particularly attracted my attention was the admiration he professed for M. de Voltaire.”
“That is flattering for me, but he has no need of admiring anyone.”
“If Algarotti had not begun by admiring others, he would never have made a name for himself. As an admirer of Newton he endeavoured to teach the ladies to discuss the theory of light.”
“Has he succeeded?”
“Not as well as M. de Fontenelle in his ‘Plurality of Worlds;’ however, one may say he has succeeded.”