This woman might have dealt in mathematics,--might have inked her fingers with writing treatises on the Newtonian philosophy; she might have sat up till five in the morning, solving problems and calculating eclipses;--and yet have possessed amiable, elevated, generous, and attractive qualities, which would have thrown a poetical interest round her character; moreover, considering the horribly corrupt state of French society at that time, she might have been pardoned "une vertu de moins," if her power over a great genius had been exercised to some good purpose;--to restrain his licentiousness, to soften his pungent and merciless satire, and prevent the frequent prostitution of his admirable and versatile talents. But a female sceptic, profligate from temperament and principle; a termagant, "qui voulait furieusement tout ce qu'elle voulait; "a woman with all the _suffisance_ of a pedant, and all the _exigeance_, caprices, and frivolity of a fine lady,--_grands dieux!_ what a heroine for poetry! To a taste for Newton and the stars, and geometry and algebra, Madame du Chatelet added some other tastes, not quite so sublime;--a great taste for bijoux--and pretty gimcracks--and old china--and watches--and rings--and diamonds--and snuff-boxes--and--puppet-shows![139] and, now and then, _une petite affaire du coeur_, by way of variety. Tout lui plait, tout convient a son vaste genie: Les livres, les bijoux, les compas, les pompons, Les vers, les diamants, le biribi,[140] l'optique, L'algebre, les soupers, le latin, les jupons, L'opera, les proces, le bal, et la physique! This "Minerve de la France, la respectable Emilie," did not resemble Minerva in _all_ her attributes; nor was she satisfied with a _succession_ of lovers. The whole history of her _liaison_ with Voltaire, is enough to put _en deroute_ all poetry, and all sentiment. With her imperious temper and bitter tongue, and his extreme irritability, no wonder they should have _des scenes terribles_.[141] Marmontel says they were often _a couteaux tires_; and this, not metaphorically but literally. On one occasion, Voltaire happened to criticise some couplets she had written for Madame de Luxembourg. "L'Amante de Newton"[142] could calculate eclipses, but she could not make verses; and, probably, for that reason, she was most particularly jealous of all censure, while she criticised Voltaire without manners or mercy; and he endured it, sometimes with marvellous patience. A dispute was now the consequence; both became furious; and at length Voltaire snatched up a knife, and brandishing it exclaimed, "ne me regarde donc pas avec tes yeux hagards et louches!" After such a scene as this one would imagine that Love must have spread his light wings and fled for ever. Could Emilie ever have forgiven those words, or Voltaire have forgotten the look that provoked them?