At that moment came M.de St.Lambert; who had taken the same road, and who now hastened to help.

M.de Voltaire, once on his feet again, and recognizing who it was, said, through his tears and with the most pathetic accent, 'AH, MON AMI, it is you that have killed her to me!'-- and then suddenly, as if starting awake, with the tone of reproach and despair, 'EH, MON DIEU, MONSIEUR, DE QUOI VOUS AVISIEZ-VOUS DE LUI FAIRE UN ENFANT (Good God, Sir, what put it into your head to--to--)!'" [Longchamp et Wagniere,--Memoires sur Voltaire,--ii.

250, 251;--Longchamp LOQUITUR.] Poor M.de Voltaire; suddenly become widower, and flung out upon his shifts again, at his time of life! May now wander, Ishmael-like, whither he will, in this hard lonesome world.

His grief is overwhelming, mixed with other sharp feelings clue on the matter; but does not last very long, in that poignant form.

He will turn up on us, in his new capacity of single-man, again brilliant enough, within year and day.
Last Autumn, September, 1748, Wilhelmina's one Daughter, one child, was wedded; to that young Durchlaucht of Wurtemberg, whom we saw gallanting the little girl, to Wilhelmina's amusement, some years ago.