It seems reasonable to give Fontenelle credit for this bon mot. Voltaire died at eighty-four. Fontenelle lived to be nearly a hundred years. Of his cheerfulness at an advanced age an anecdote is related. In conversation, one day, a lady a few years younger than Fontenelle playfully remarked, "Monsieur, you and I stay here so long, methinks Death has forgotten us." "Hush! Speak in a whisper, madame," replied Fontenelle, "tant mieux! (so much the better!) don't remind him of us."
Flaubert, Hugo, Baudelaire, Paul de Kock, Théophile Gautier, Alfred de Musset, Zola, Coppée, George Sand, Guy de Maupassant, and Sarah Bernhardt, all have been credited with many clever or witty sallies about coffee.
Prince Talleyrand (1754–1839), the French diplomat and wit, has given us the cleverest summing up of the ideal cup of coffee. He said it should be "Noir comme le diable, chaud comme l'enfer, pur comme un ange, doux comme l'amour." Or in English, "black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love."
This quip has been wrongfully attributed to Brillat-Savarin. Talleyrand said also:
A cup of coffee lightly tempered with good milk detracts nothing from your intellect; on the contrary, your stomach is freed by it, and no longer distresses your brain; it will not hamper your mind with troubles, but give freedom to its working. Suave molecules of Mocha stir up your blood, without causing excessive heat; the organ of thought receives from it a feeling of sympathy; work becomes easier, and you will sit down without distress to your principal repast, which will restore your body, and afford you a calm delicious night.
Among coffee drinkers a high place must be given to Prince Bismarck (1815–1898). He liked coffee unadulterated. While with the Prussian army in France, he one day entered a country inn and asked the host if he had any chicory in the house. He had. Bismarck said: "Well, bring it to me; all you have." The man obeyed, and handed Bismarck a canister full of chicory.
"Are you sure this is all you have?" demanded the chancellor.
"Yes, my lord, every grain."
"Then," said Bismarck, keeping the canister by him, "go now and make me a pot of coffee."
This same story has been related of François Paul Jules Grévy (1807–1891), president of France, 1879–1887. According to the French story, Grévy never took wine, even at dinner. He was, however, passionately fond of coffee. To be certain of having his favorite beverage of the best quality, he always, when he could, prepared it himself. Once he was invited, with a friend, M. Bethmont, to a hunting party by M. Menier, the celebrated manufacturer of chocolate, at Noisiel. It happened that M. Grévy and M. Bethmont lost themselves in the forest. Trying to find their way out, they stumbled upon a little wine house, and stopped for a rest. They asked for something to drink. M. Bethmont found his wine excellent; but, as usual, Grévy would not drink. He wanted coffee, but he was afraid of the decoction which would be brought him. He got a good cup, however, and this is how he managed it: