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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I, by Various, Edited by
+Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+Release Date: February 9, 2008 [eBook #24563]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS,
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. VII (OF X)--CONTINENTAL EUROPE I***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 24563-h.htm or 24563-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/5/6/24563/24563-h/24563-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/5/6/24563/24563-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BEST
+_of the_
+WORLD'S CLASSICS
+
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE
+
+HENRY CABOT LODGE
+Editor-in-Chief
+
+FRANCIS W. HALSEY
+Associate Editor
+
+With an Introduction, Biographical and Explanatory Notes, etc.
+
+In Ten Volumes
+
+Vol. VII
+
+CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: RABELAIS, VOLTAIRE, HUGO, MONTAIGNE]
+
+
+
+
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+New York and London
+Copyright, 1909, by
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+
+
+
+
+The Best of the World's Classics
+
+VOL. VII
+
+CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+VOL. VII--CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS
+
+354--1380
+
+
+ST. AURELIUS AUGUSTINE--(Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354; died in 430.)
+
+ Imperial Power for Good and Bad Men.
+
+ (From Book IV, Chapter III, of "De Civitate Dei")
+
+ANICIUS BOETHIUS--(Born about 475, died about 524.)
+
+ The Highest Happiness.
+
+ (From "The Consolations of Philosophy." Translated by Alfred the
+ Great)
+
+ST. THOMAS AQUINAS--(Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225; died in
+1274.)
+
+ A Definition of Happiness.
+
+ (From the "Ethics")
+
+THOMAS À KEMPIS--(Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the
+Netherlands in 1471.)
+
+ Of Eternal Life and of Striving for It.
+
+ (From "The Imitation of Christ")
+
+
+FRANCE
+
+Twelfth Century--1885
+
+
+GEOFFREY DE VILLE-HARDOUIN--(Born between 1150 and 1165; died in 1212.)
+
+ The Sack of Constantinople.
+
+ (From "The Chronicles." Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)
+
+JEAN DE JOINVILLE--(Born in 1224, died in 1317.)
+
+ Greek Fire in Battle.
+
+ (From "The Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France." Translated by Thomas
+ Johnes)
+
+ "AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE."
+
+ (A French romance of the 12th Century, the author's name unknown)
+
+JEAN FROISSART--(Born in 1337, died in 1410.)
+
+ The Battle of Crécy (1346).
+
+ (From the "Chronicles." Translated by Thomas Johnes)
+
+PHILIPPE DE COMINES--(Born in France about 1445, died in 1511.)
+
+ Of the Character of Louis XI
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Andrew R. Scoble)
+
+MARGUERITE D'ANGOULÊME--(Born in 1492, died in 1549.)
+
+ Of Husbands Who Are Unfaithful.
+
+ (From the "Heptameron")
+
+FRANÇOIS RABELAIS--(Born in 1495, died in 1553.)
+
+I Gargantua in His Childhood.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+II Gargantua's Education.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+III Of the Founding of an Ideal Abbey.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+JOHN CALVIN--(Born in 1509, died in 1564.)
+
+ Of Freedom for the Will.
+
+ (From the "Institutes")
+
+JOACHIM DU BELLAY--(Born about 1524, died in 1560.)
+
+ Why Old French Was Not as Rich as Greek and Latin.
+
+ (From the "Défense et Illustration de la Langue Françoise."
+ Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)
+
+MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE--(Born in 1533, died in 1592.)
+
+I A Word to His Readers.
+
+ (From the preface to the "Essays." Translated by John Florio)
+
+II Of Society and Solitude.
+
+ (From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation,
+ revised by W. C. Hazlitt)
+
+III Of His Own Library.
+
+ (From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation,
+ revised by W. C. Hazlitt)
+
+IV That the Soul Discharges Her Passions upon False Objects Where
+ True Ones Are Wanting.
+
+ (From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)
+
+V That Men Are Not to Judge of Our Happiness Till After Death.
+
+ (From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)
+
+RENÉ DESCARTES--(Born in 1596, died in 1650.)
+
+ Of Material Things and of the Existence of God.
+
+ (From the "Meditations." Translated by John Veitch)
+
+DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD--(Born in France in 1613, died in 1680.)
+
+ Selections from the "Maxims."
+
+ (Translated by Willis Bund and Hain Friswell)
+
+BLAISE PASCAL--(Born in 1623, died in 1662.)
+
+ Of the Prevalence of Self-Love.
+
+ (From the "Thoughts." Translated by C. Kegan Paul)
+
+MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ--(Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696.)
+
+I Great News from Paris.
+
+ (From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670)
+
+II An Imposing Funeral Described.
+
+ (From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,1672)
+
+ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE--(Born in 1668, died in 1747.)
+
+I In the Service of Dr. Sangrado.
+
+ (From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)
+
+II As an Archbishop's Favorite.
+
+ (From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)
+
+DUC DE SAINT-SIMON--(Born in 1675, died in 1755.)
+
+I The Death of the Dauphin.
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)
+
+II The Public Watching the King and Madame.
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)
+
+BARON DE MONTESQUIEU--(Born in 1689, died in 1755.)
+
+I Of the Causes Which Destroyed Rome.
+
+ (From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans")
+
+II Of the Relation of Laws to Human Beings.
+
+ (From the "Spirit of Laws." Translated by Thomas Nugent)
+
+FRANÇOIS AROUET VOLTAIRE--(Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778.)
+
+I Of Bacon's Greatness.
+
+ (From the "Letters on England")
+
+II England's Regard for Men of Letters.
+
+ (From the "Letters on England")
+
+JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU--(Born in 1712, died in 1778.)
+
+I Of Christ and Socrates
+
+II Of the Management of Children.
+
+ (From the "New Héloïse")
+
+MADAME DE STAËL--(Born in 1763, died in 1817.)
+
+ Of Napoleon Bonaparte.
+
+ (From "Considerations on the French Revolution")
+
+VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND--(Born in 1768, died in 1848.)
+
+ In an American Forest.
+
+ (From the "Historical Essay on Revolutions")
+
+FRANÇOIS GUIZOT--(Born in 1787, died in 1874.)
+
+ Shakespeare as an Example of Civilization.
+
+ (From "Shakespeare and His Times")
+
+ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE--(Born in 1790, died in 1869.)
+
+ Of Mirabeau's Origin and Place in History.
+
+ (From Book I of the "History of the Girondists."
+ Translated by T. Ryde)
+
+LOUIS ADOLPH THIERS--(Born in 1797, died in 1877.)
+
+ The Burning of Moscow.
+
+ (From the "History of the Consulate and the Empire")
+
+HONORÉ DE BALZAC--(Born in 1799, died in 1850.)
+
+I The Death of Père Goriot.
+
+ (From the concluding chapter of "Père Goriot." Translated by Helen
+ Marriàge)
+
+II Birotteau's Early Married Life.
+
+ (From "The Rise and Fall of César Birotteau." Translated by
+ Helen Marriàge)
+
+ALFRED DE VIGNY--(Born in 1799, died in 1863.)
+
+ Richelieu's Way with His Master.
+
+ (From "Cinq-Mars; or, The Conspiracy under Louis XIII." Translated by
+ William C. Hazlitt)
+
+VICTOR HUGO--(Born in France in 1802, died in 1885.)
+
+I The Battle of Waterloo.
+
+ (From Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Misérables." Translated
+ by Lascelles Wraxall)
+
+II The Beginnings and Expansions of Paris.
+
+ (From Book III, Chapter II, of "Notre-Dame de Paris")
+
+ALEXANDER DUMAS--(Born in 1802, died in 1870.)
+
+ The Shoulder, the Belt and the Handkerchief.
+
+ (From "The Three Musketeers")
+
+GEORGE SAND--(Born in 1804, died in 1876.)
+
+ Lélia and the Poet.
+
+ (From "Lélia")
+
+
+
+
+
+EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS
+
+354 A.D.--1471 A.D.
+
+
+
+
+ST. AURELIUS AUGUSTINE
+
+ Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354 A.D., died in 430; educated
+ at Carthage; taught rhetoric at Carthage; removed to Rome in
+ 383; going thence to Milan in 384, where he became a friend
+ of St. Ambrose; converted from Manicheanism to Christianity
+ by his mother Monica, and baptized by St. Ambrose in 387;
+ made Bishop of Hippo in North Africa in 395; became a
+ champion of orthodoxy and the most celebrated of the fathers
+ of the Latin branch of the Church; his "Confessions"
+ published in 397.
+
+
+
+
+IMPERIAL POWER FOR GOOD AND BAD MEN[1]
+
+
+Let us examine the nature of the spaciousness and continuance of
+empire, for which men give their gods such great thanks; to whom also
+they exhibited plays (that were so filthy both in actors and the
+action) without any offense of honesty. But, first, I would make a
+little inquiry, seeing you can not show such estates to be anyway
+happy, as are in continual wars, being still in terror, trouble, and
+guilt of shedding human blood, tho it be their foes; what reason then
+or what wisdom shall any man show in glorying in the largeness of
+empire, all their joy being but as a glass, bright and brittle, and
+evermore in fear and danger of breaking? To dive the deeper into this
+matter, let us not give the sails of our souls to every air of human
+breath, nor suffer our understanding's eye to be smoked up with the
+fumes of vain words, concerning kingdoms, provinces, nations, or so.
+No, let us take two men, let us imagine the one to be poor, or but of
+a mean estate, the other potent and wealthy; but withal, let my
+wealthy man take with him fears, sorrows, covetousness, suspicion,
+disquiet, contentions,--let these be the books for him to hold in the
+augmentation of his estate, and with all the increase of those cares,
+together with his estate; and let my poor man take with him,
+sufficiency with little, love of kindred, neighbors, friends, joyous
+peace, peaceful religion, soundness of body, sincereness of heart,
+abstinence of diet, chastity of carriage, and security of conscience.
+
+[Footnote 1: From "De Civitate Dei," Book IV, Chapter III, published
+in 426. This work, "as Englisshed" by J. Healey, was published is
+1610.]
+
+Where should a man find any one so sottish as would make a doubt which
+of these to prefer in his choice? Well, then, even as we have done
+with these two men, so let us do with two families, two nations, or
+two kingdoms. Lay them both to the line of equity; which done, and
+duly considered, when it is done, here doth vanity lie bare to the
+view, and there shines felicity. Wherefore it is more convenient that
+such as fear and follow the law of the true God should have the
+swaying of such empires; not so much for themselves, their piety and
+their honesty (God's admired gifts) will suffice them, both to the
+enjoying of true felicity in this life and the attaining of that
+eternal and true felicity in the next. So that here upon earth, the
+rule and regality that is given to the good man does not return him so
+much good as it does to those that are under this his rule and
+regality. But, contrariwise, the government of the wicked harms
+themselves far more than their subjects, for it gives themselves the
+greater liberty to exercise their lusts; but for their subjects, they
+have none but their own iniquities to answer for; for what injury
+soever the unrighteous master does to the righteous servant, it is no
+scourge for his guilt, but a trial of his virtue. And therefore he
+that is good is free, tho he be a slave; and he that is evil, a slave
+tho he be king. Nor is he slave to one man, but that which is worst of
+all, unto as many masters as he affects vices; according to the
+Scriptures, speaking thus hereof: "Of whatsoever a man is overcome, to
+that he is in bondage."
+
+
+
+
+ANICIUS BOETHIUS
+
+ Born in Rome about 475, died about 524; consul in 510 and
+ magister officiorum in the court of Theodoric the Goth; put
+ to death by Theodoric without trial on the charge of treason
+ and magic; his famous work "De Consolatione Philosophiæ"
+ probably written while in prison in Pavia; parts of that
+ work translated by Alfred the Great and Chaucer; secured
+ much influence for the works of Aristotle by his
+ translations and commentaries.
+
+
+
+
+THE HIGHEST HAPPINESS[2]
+
+
+When Wisdom had sung this lay he ceased the song and was silent a
+while. Then he began to think deeply in his mind's thought, and spoke
+thus: Every mortal man troubles himself with various and manifold
+anxieties, and yet all desire, through various paths, to come to one
+end; that is, they desire, by different means, to arrive at one
+happiness; that is, to know God! He is the beginning and the end of
+every good, and He is the highest happiness.
+
+[Footnote 2: From "The Consolations of Philosophy." The translation of
+Alfred the Great, modernized. Boethius is not usually classed as a
+Roman author, altho Gibbon said of him that he was "the last Roman
+whom Cato or Cicero could have recognized as his countryman." Chaucer
+made a translation of Boethius, which was printed by Caxton. John
+Walton made a version in 1410, which was printed at a monastery in
+1525. Another early version made by George Coluile was published in
+1556. Several others appeared in the sixteenth century.]
+
+Then said the Mind: This, methinks, must be the highest good, so that
+man should need no other good, nor moreover be solicitous beyond
+that--since he possesses that which is the roof of all other goods;
+for it includes all other goods, and has all of them within it. It
+would not be the highest good if any good were external to it, because
+it would then have to desire some good which itself had not.
+
+Then answered Reason, and said: It is very evident that this is the
+highest happiness, for it is both the roof and floor of all good. What
+is that, then, but the best happiness, which gathers the other
+felicities all within it, and includes, and holds them within it; and
+to it there is a deficiency of none, neither has it need of any; but
+they all come from it, and again all return to it; as all waters come
+from the sea, and again all come to the sea? There is none in the
+little fountain which does not seek the sea, and again, from the sea
+it arrives at the earth, and so it flows gradually through the earth,
+till it again comes to the same fountain that it before flowed from,
+and so again to the sea.
+
+Now this is an example of the true goods which all mortal men desire
+to obtain, tho they by various ways think to arrive at them. For every
+man has natural good in himself, because every man desires to obtain
+the true good; but it is hindered by the transitory goods, because it
+is more prone thereto. For some men think that it is the best
+happiness that a man be so rich that he have need of nothing more; and
+they choose life accordingly. Some men think that this is the highest
+good, that he be among his fellows the most honorable of his fellows,
+and they with all energy seek this. Some think that the supreme good
+is in the highest power. These desire, either for themselves to rule,
+or else to associate themselves in friendship with their rulers. Some
+persuade themselves that it is the best that a man be illustrious and
+celebrated, and have good fame; they therefore seek this both in peace
+and in war. Many reckon it for the greatest good and for the greatest
+happiness, that a man be always blithe in this present life, and
+fulfil all his lusts. Some, indeed, who desire these riches, are
+desirous thereof, because they would have the greater power, that they
+may the more securely enjoy these worldly lusts, and also the riches.
+Many there are of those who desire power because they would gather
+overmuch money; or, again, they are desirous to spread the celebrity
+of their name.
+
+On account of such and other like frail and perishable advantages, the
+thought of every human mind is troubled with solicitude and with
+anxiety. It then imagines that it has obtained some exalted goods when
+it has won the flattery of the people; and methinks that it has bought
+a very false greatness. Some with much anxiety seek wives, that
+thereby they may, above all things, have children, and also live
+happily. True friends, then, I say, are the most precious things of
+all these worldly felicities. They are not, indeed, to be reckoned as
+worldly goods, but as divine; for deceitful fortune does not produce
+them, but God, who naturally formed them as relations. For of every
+other thing in this world man is desirous, either that he may through
+it attain to power, or else some worldly lust; except of the true
+friend, whom he loves sometimes for affection and for fidelity, tho
+he expect to himself no other rewards. Nature joins and cements
+friends together with inseparable love. But with these worldly goods,
+and with this present wealth, men make oftener enemies than friends.
+By these and by many such things it may be evident to all men that all
+the bodily goods are inferior to the faculties of the soul.
+
+We indeed think that a man is the stronger because he is great in his
+body. The fairness, moreover, and the vigor of the body, rejoices and
+delights the man, and health makes him cheerful. In all these bodily
+felicities, men seek simple happiness, as it seems to them. For
+whatsoever every man chiefly loves above all other things, that he
+persuades himself is best for him, and that is his highest good. When,
+therefore, he has acquired that, he imagines that he may be very
+happy. I do not deny that these goods and this happiness are the
+highest good of this present life. For every man considers that thing
+best which he chiefly loves above other things; and therefore he
+persuades himself that he is very happy if he can obtain what he then
+most desires. Is not now clearly enough shown to thee the form of the
+false goods, that is, then, possessions, dignity, and power, and
+glory, and pleasure? Concerning pleasure Epicurus the philosopher
+said, when he inquired concerning all those other goods which we
+before mentioned; then said he that pleasure was the highest good,
+because all the other goods which we before mentioned gratify the mind
+and delight it, but pleasure alone chiefly gratifies the body.
+
+But we will still speak concerning the nature of men, and concerning
+their pursuits. Tho, then, their mind and their nature be now dimmed,
+and they are by that fall sunk down to evil, and thither inclined, yet
+they are desirous, so far as they can and may, of the highest good. As
+a drunken man knows that he should go to his house and to his rest,
+and yet is not able to find the way thither, so is it also with the
+mind when it is weighed down by the anxieties of this world. It is
+sometimes intoxicated and misled by them, so far that it can not
+rightly find out good. Nor yet does it appear to those men that they
+at all err, who are desirous to obtain this, that they need labor
+after nothing more. But they think that they are able to collect
+together all these goods, so that none may be excluded from the
+number. They therefore know no other good than the collecting of all
+the most precious things into their power that they may have need of
+nothing besides them. But there is no one that has not need of some
+addition, except God alone. He has of His own enough, nor has He need
+of anything but that which He has in Himself.
+
+Dost thou think, however, that they foolishly imagine that that thing
+is best deserving of all estimation which they may consider most
+desirable? No, no. I know that it is not to be despised. How can that
+be evil which the mind of every man considers to be good, and strives
+after, and desires to obtain? No, it is not evil; it is the highest
+good. Why is not power to be reckoned one of the highest goods of this
+present life? Is that to be esteemed vain and useless which is the
+most useful of all those worldly things, that is, power? Is good fame
+and renown to be accounted nothing? No, no. It is not fit that any
+one account it nothing; for every man thinks that best which he most
+loves. Do we not know that no anxiety, or difficulties, or trouble, or
+pain, or sorrow, is happiness? What more, then, need we say about
+these felicities? Does not every man know what they are, and also know
+that they are the highest good? And yet almost every man seeks in very
+little things the best felicities; because he thinks that he may have
+them all if he have that which he then chiefly wishes to obtain. This
+is, then, what they chiefly wish to obtain, wealth, and dignity, and
+authority, and this world's glory, and ostentation, and worldly lust.
+Of all this they are desirous because they think that, through these
+things, they may obtain: that there be not to them a deficiency of
+anything wished; neither of dignity, nor of power, nor of renown, nor
+of bliss. They wish for all this, and they do well that they desire
+it, tho they seek it variously. By these things we may clearly
+perceive that every man is desirous of this, that, he may obtain the
+highest good, if they were able to discover it, or knew how to seek it
+rightly. But they do not seek it in the most right way. It is not of
+this world.
+
+
+
+
+ST. THOMAS AQUINAS
+
+ Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225, died in 1274;
+ entered the Dominican order; studied at Cologne under
+ Albertus Magnus; taught at Cologne, Paris, Rome and Bologna;
+ his chief work the "Summa Theologiæ"; his complete writings
+ collected in 1787.
+
+
+
+
+A DEFINITION OF HAPPINESS[3]
+
+
+The word end has two meanings. In one meaning it stands for the thing
+itself which we desire to gain: thus the miser's end is money. In
+another meaning it stands for the near attainment, or possession, or
+use, or enjoyment of the thing desired, as if one should say that the
+possession of money is the miser's end, or the enjoyment of something
+pleasant the end of the sensualist. In the first meaning of the word,
+therefore, the end of man is the Uncreated Good, namely God, who alone
+of His infinite goodness can perfectly satisfy the will of man. But
+according to the second meaning, the last end of man is something
+created, existing in himself, which is nothing else than the
+attainment or enjoyment of the last end. Now the last end is called
+happiness. If therefore the happiness of a man is considered in its
+cause or object, in that way it is something uncreated; but if it is
+considered in essence, in that way happiness is a created thing.
+
+[Footnote 3: From the "Ethics." The complete works of Aquinas were
+published in 1787; but a new and notable edition was compiled in 1883
+under the intimate patronage of Pope Leo XIII, to whom is given credit
+for a modern revival of interest in his writings.]
+
+Happiness is said to be the sovereign good of man, because it is the
+attainment or enjoyment of the sovereign good. So far as the happiness
+of man is something created, existing in the man himself, we must say
+that the happiness of man is an act. For happiness is the last
+perfection of man. But everything is perfect so far as it is in act;
+for potentiality without actuality is imperfect. Happiness, therefore,
+must consist in the last and crowning act of man. But it is manifest
+that activity is the last and crowning act of an active being; whence
+also it is called by the philosopher "the second act." And hence it is
+that each thing is said to be for the sake of its activity. It needs
+must be therefore that the happiness of man is a certain activity.
+
+Life has two meanings. One way it means the very being of the living,
+and in that way happiness is not life; for of God alone can it be said
+that His own being is His happiness. In another way life is taken to
+mean the activity on the part of the living thing by which activity
+the principle of life is reduced to act. Thus we speak of an active or
+contemplative life, or of a life of pleasure; and in this way the last
+end is called life everlasting, as is clear from the text: "This is
+life everlasting, that they know Thee, the only true God."
+
+By the definition of Boethius, that happiness is "a state made perfect
+by the aggregate sum of all things good," nothing else is meant than
+that the happy man is in a state of perfect good. But Aristotle has
+exprest the proper essence of happiness, showing by what it is that
+man is constituted in such a state, namely, by a certain activity.
+
+Action is two-fold. There is one variety that proceeds from the agent
+to exterior matter, as the action of cutting and burning, and such an
+activity can not be happiness, for such activity is not an act and
+perfection of the agent, but rather of the patient. There is another
+action immanent, or remaining in the agent himself, as feeling,
+understanding, and willing. Such action is a perfection and act of the
+agent, and an activity of this sort may possibly be happiness.
+
+Since happiness means some manner of final perfection, happiness must
+have different meanings according to the different grades of
+perfection that there are attainable by different beings capable of
+happiness. In God is happiness by essence, because His very being is
+His activity, because He does not enjoy any other thing than Himself.
+In the angels final perfection is by way of a certain activity,
+whereby they are united to the uncreated good; and this activity is in
+them one and everlasting. In men, in the state of the present life,
+final perfection is by way of an activity whereby they are united to
+God. But this activity can not be everlasting or continuous, and by
+consequence it is not one, because an act is multiplied by
+interruption; and, therefore, in this state of the present life,
+perfect happiness is not to be had by man.
+
+Hence the philosopher, placing the happiness of man in this life, says
+that it is imperfect, and after much discussion he comes to this
+conclusion: "We call them happy, so far as happiness can be
+predicated of men." But we have a promise from God of perfect
+happiness, when we shall be "like the angels in heaven." As regards
+this perfect happiness, the objection drops, because in this state of
+happiness the mind of man is united to God by one continuous and
+everlasting activity. But in the present life, so far as we fall short
+of the unity and continuity of such an activity, so much do we lose of
+the perfection of happiness. There is, however, granted us a certain
+participation in happiness, and the more continuous and undivided the
+activity can be the more will it come up to the idea of happiness. And
+therefore in the active life, which is busied with many things, there
+is less of the essence of happiness than in the contemplative life,
+which is busy with the one occupation of the contemplation of truth.
+
+
+
+
+THOMAS À KEMPIS
+
+ Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the Netherlands
+ in 1471; his real name Thomas Hammerken; entered an
+ Augustinian convent near Zwolle in 1407; became sub-prior of
+ the convent in 1423 and again in 1447; generally accepted as
+ the author of "The Imitation of Christ."
+
+
+
+
+OF ETERNAL LIFE AND OF STRIVING FOR IT[4]
+
+
+Son, when thou perceivest the desire of eternal bliss to be infused
+into thee from above, and thou wouldst fain go out of the tabernacle
+of this body, that thou mightest contemplate My brightness without any
+shadow of change--enlarge thy heart, and receive this holy inspiration
+with thy whole desire.
+
+[Footnote 4: From "The Imitation of Christ." Altho commonly ascribed
+to Thomas à Kempis, there has been much controversy as to the real
+authorship of this famous work. Many early editions bear the name of
+Thomas, including one of the year 1471, which is sometimes thought to
+be the first. As against his authorship it is contended that he was a
+professional copyist, and that the use of his name in the first
+edition conformed to a custom that belonged more to a transcriber than
+to an author. One of the earliest English versions of Thomas à Kempis
+was made by Wyllyam Atkynson and printed by Wykyns de Worde in 1502. A
+translation by Edward Hake appeared in 1567. Many other early English
+editions are known.]
+
+Return the greatest thanks to the Supreme Goodness, which dealeth so
+condescendingly with thee, mercifully visiteth thee, ardently inciteth
+thee, and powerfully raiseth thee up, lest by thy own weight thou
+fall down to the things of earth.
+
+For it is not by thy own thoughtfulness or endeavor that thou
+receivest this, but by the mere condescension of heavenly grace and
+divine regard; that so thou mayest advance in virtues and greater
+humility, and prepare thyself for future conflicts, and labor with the
+whole affection of thy heart to keep close to Me, and serve Me with a
+fervent will.
+
+Son, the fire often burneth, but the flame ascendeth not without
+smoke.
+
+And so the desires of some are on fire after heavenly things, and yet
+they are not free from the temptation of carnal affection.
+
+Therefore is it not altogether purely for God's honor that they act,
+when they so earnestly petition Him.
+
+Such also is oftentimes thy desire, which thou hast profest to be so
+importunate.
+
+For that is not pure and perfect which, is alloyed with self-interest.
+
+Ask not that which is pleasant and convenient, but that which is
+acceptable to Me and My honor; for if thou judgest rightly, thou
+oughtest to prefer and to follow My appointment rather than thine own
+desire or any other desirable thing.
+
+I know thy desire, and I have often heard thy groanings.
+
+Thou wouldst wish to be already in the liberty of the glory of the
+children of God.
+
+Now doth the eternal dwelling, and the heavenly country full of
+festivity, delight thee.
+
+But that hour is not yet come; for there is yet another time, a time
+of war, a time of labor and of probation.
+
+Thou desirest to be filled with the Sovereign Good, but thou canst not
+at present attain to it.
+
+I am He: wait for Me, saith the Lord, until the kingdom of God come.
+
+Thou hast yet to be tried upon earth and exercised in many things.
+
+Consolation shall sometimes be given thee, but abundant satiety shall
+not be granted thee.
+
+Take courage, therefore, and be valiant, as well in doing as in
+suffering things repugnant to nature.
+
+Thou must put on the new man, and be changed into another person.
+
+That which thou wouldst not, thou must oftentimes do; and that which
+thou wouldst, thou must leave undone.
+
+What pleaseth others shall prosper, what is pleasing to thee shall not
+succeed.
+
+What others say shall be harkened to; what thou sayest shall be
+reckoned as naught.
+
+Others shall ask, and shall receive; thou shalt ask, and not obtain.
+
+Others shall be great in the esteem of men; about thee nothing shall
+be said.
+
+To others this or that shall be committed; but thou shalt be accounted
+as of no use.
+
+At this nature will sometimes repine, and it will be a great matter if
+thou bear it with silence.
+
+In these, and many such-like things, the faithful servant of the Lord
+is wont to be tried how far he can deny and break himself in all
+things.
+
+There is scarce anything in which thou standest so much in need of
+dying to thyself as in seeing and suffering things that are contrary
+to thy will, and more especially when those things are commanded which
+seem to thee inconvenient and of little use.
+
+And because, being under authority, thou darest not resist the higher
+power, therefore it seemeth to thee hard to walk at the beck of
+another, and wholly to give up thy own opinion.
+
+But consider, son, the fruit of these labors, their speedy
+termination, and their reward exceeding great; and thou wilt not hence
+derive affliction, but the most strengthening consolation in thy
+suffering.
+
+For in regard to that little of thy will which thou now willingly
+forsakest, thou shalt forever have thy will in heaven.
+
+For there thou shalt find all that thou willest, all that thou canst
+desire.
+
+There shall be to thee the possession of every good, without fear of
+losing it.
+
+There thy will, always one with Me, shall not covet any extraneous or
+private thing. There no one shall resist thee, no one complain of
+thee, no one obstruct thee, nothing shall stand in thy way; but every
+desirable good shall be present at the same moment, shall replenish
+all thy affections and satiate them to the full.
+
+There I will give thee glory for the contumely thou hast suffered; a
+garment of praise for thy sorrow; and for having been seated here in
+the lowest place, the throne of My kingdom forever.
+
+There will the fruit of obedience appear, there will the labor of
+penance rejoice, and humble subjection shall be gloriously crowned.
+
+Now, therefore, bow thyself down humbly under the hands of all, and
+heed not who it was that said or commanded this.
+
+But let it be thy great care, that whether thy superior or inferior or
+equal require anything of thee, or hint at anything, thou take all in
+good part, and labor with a sincere will to perform it.
+
+Let one seek this, another that; let this man glory in this thing,
+another in that, and be praised a thousand thousand times: but thou,
+for thy part, rejoice neither in this nor in that, but in the contempt
+of thyself, and in My good pleasure and honor alone.
+
+This is what thou hast to wish for, that whether in life or in death,
+God may be always glorified in thee.
+
+
+
+
+FRANCE
+
+TWELFTH CENTURY--1885
+
+
+
+
+GEOFFREY DE VILLE-HARDOUIN
+
+ Born between 1150 and 1165, died in 1212; marshal of
+ Champagne in 1191; joined the Crusade in 1199 under
+ Theobault III; negotiated successfully with Venice for the
+ transfer of the Crusaders by sea to the Holy Land; followed
+ the Crusade and chronicled all its events from 1198 to 1207.
+
+
+
+
+THE SACK OF CONSTANTINOPLE[5]
+
+(1204)
+
+
+This night passed and the day came which was Thursday morning (13
+April, 1204), and then every one in the camp armed themselves, the
+knights and the soldiers, and each one joined his battle corps. The
+Marquis of Montferrat advanced toward the palace of Bucoleon; and
+having occupied it, determined to spare the lives of all those he
+found therein. There were found there women of the highest rank, and
+of the most honorable character; the sister of the King of France who
+had been an empress; and the sister of the King of Hungary, and other
+women of quality. Of the treasure that there was in the palace, I can
+not speak; for there was so much that it was without end or measure.
+Besides this palace which was surrendered to the Marquis Boniface of
+Montferrat, that of Blachem was surrendered to Henry, brother of Count
+Baldwin of Flanders.
+
+[Footnote 5: From the "Chronicles." This work is important; first, as
+a record, generally accepted as eminently trustworthy, and second, for
+its literary excellence, in which sense it has been held in peculiar
+esteem. George Saintsbury remarks that those chronicles "are by
+universal consent among the most attractive works of the Middle Ages."
+They comprize one of the oldest extant examples of French prose. The
+passage here given was translated for this collection from the old
+French by Eric Arthur Bell. A translation by T. Smith was published in
+1829.
+
+This sack of Constantinople followed what is known as the Latin
+Conquest. More than thirty sieges of the city have occurred. After the
+conquest here referred to Constantinople was occupied by the Latins.
+It was finally wrested from them by Michael Palæologus. The conquest
+of 1204 was achieved during the Fourth Crusade. By Latin Conquest is
+meant a conquest by Western Christians as against its long-time Greek
+rulers. This conquest was also inspired by the commercial ambition of
+the Venetians, who had long coveted what were believed to be the
+fabulous riches of the city. The Latin Empire survived for fifty-six
+years in a state of almost constant weakness. The conquest had no
+direct relation to the original purpose of the Crusades, which was the
+recovery of Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels.]
+
+The booty that was found here was so great that it can only be
+compared to that which was found in Bucoleon.[6] Each soldier filled
+the room that was assigned to him with plunder and had the treasure
+guarded; and the others who were scattered through the city also had
+their share of spoil. And the booty obtained was so great that it is
+impossible for me to estimate it,--gold and silver and plate and
+precious stones,--rich altar cloths and vestments of silk and robes of
+ermine, and treasure that had been buried under the ground. And truly
+doth testify Geoffrey of Ville-Hardouin, Marshal of Champagne, when he
+says that never in the whole of history had a city yielded so much
+plunder. Every man took as much as he could carry, and there was
+enough for every one.
+
+[Footnote 6: One of the districts into which the city was divided.]
+
+Thus fared the Crusaders and the Venetians, and so great was the joy
+and the honor of the victory that God had given them, that those who
+had been in poverty were rich and living in luxury. Thus was passed
+Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday in the honor and joy which God had
+granted them. And they had good cause to be grateful to our Lord, for
+they had no more than twenty thousand armed men among them all, and by
+the grace of God they had captured four hundred thousand or more, and
+that in the strongest city in the world (that is to say, city of any
+size), and the best fortified.
+
+Then it was announced throughout the whole army by the Marquis
+Boniface of Montferrat, who was head of the army, and by the barons
+and the Doge of Venice, that all the booty should be collected and
+assessed under pain of excommunication. And the places were chosen in
+three churches; and they put over them as guards French and Venetians,
+the most loyal that they could find, and then each man began to bring
+his booty and put it together. Some acted uprightly and others not,
+for covetousness which is the root of all evil, prevented them; but
+the covetous began from this moment to keep things back and our Lord
+began to like them less. Oh God, how loyally they had behaved up to
+that moment, and the Lord God had shown them that in everything He had
+honored and favored them above all other people, and now the righteous
+began to suffer for the wicked.
+
+The plunder and the booty were collected; and you must know that it
+was not all equally divided, for there were a number of those who
+retained a share in spite of the dread of Papal excommunication.
+Whatever was brought to the churches was collected and divided between
+the French and Venetians equally as had been arranged. And you must
+know that the Crusaders, when they had divided, paid on their part
+fifty thousand marks of silver to the Venetians, and as for themselves
+they divided a good hundred thousand among their own people. And do
+you know how it was divided? Each horseman received double the share
+of a foot soldier, and each knight double the share of a horseman. And
+you must know that never did a man, either through his rank and
+prowess receive anything more than had been arranged, unless it was
+stolen.
+
+As for the thefts, those who were convicted of guilt, you must know
+were dealt with summarily and there were enough people hung. The Count
+of St. Paul hung one of his knights with his horse collar round his
+neck, because he had kept something back, and there were a number who
+kept things back, much and little, but this is not known for certain.
+
+You may be assured that the booty was great, for not counting what was
+stolen and the share that fell to the Venetians, a good four hundred
+thousand marks of silver were brought back, and as many as ten
+thousand animals of one kind and another. The plunder of
+Constantinople was divided thus as you have heard.
+
+
+
+
+JEAN DE JOINVILLE
+
+ Born about 1224; died in 1317; attended Louis IX in the
+ Seventh Crusade, spending six years in the East; his
+ "Memoirs of Louis IX," presented by him in 1309 to the great
+ grandson of Louis, and first published in 1547.
+
+
+
+
+GREEK FIRE IN BATTLE[7]
+
+
+Not long after this, the chief of the Turks, before named, crost with
+his army into the island that lies between the Rexi and Damietta
+branches, where our army was encamped, and formed a line of battle,
+extending from one bank of the river to the other. The Count d'Anjou,
+who was on the spot, attacked the Turks, and defeated them so
+completely that they took to flight, and numbers were drowned in each
+of the branches of the Nile.
+
+[Footnote 7: From the "Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France," commonly
+called St. Louis. The passage here given is from Joinville's account
+of a battle between Christians and Saracens, fought near the Damietta
+branch of the Nile in 1240. Mr. Saintsbury remarks that Joinville's
+work "is one of the most circumstantial records we have of medieval
+life and thought." It was translated by Thomas Johnes, of Hafod, and
+is now printed in Bohn's library.]
+
+A large body, however, kept their ground, whom we dared not attack, on
+account of their numerous machines, by which they did us great injury
+with the divers things cast from them. During the attack on the Turks
+by the Count d'Anjou, the Count Guy de Ferrois, who was in his company
+galloped through the Turkish force, attended by his knights, until
+they came to another battalion of Saracens, where they performed
+wonders. But at last he was thrown to the ground with a broken leg,
+and was led back by two of his knights, supporting him by the arms.
+
+You must know there was difficulty in withdrawing the Count d'Anjou
+from this attack, wherein he was frequently in the utmost danger, and
+was ever after greatly honored for it.
+
+Another large body of Turks made an attack on the Count de Poitiers
+and me; but be assured they were very well received, and served in
+like manner. It was well for them that they found their way back by
+which they had come; but they left behind great numbers of slain. We
+returned safely to our camp scarcely having lost any of our men.
+
+One night the Turks brought forward an engine, called by them La
+Perriere, a terrible engine to do mischief, and placed it opposite to
+the chas-chateils, which Sir Walter De Curel and I were guarding by
+night. From this engine they flung such quantities of Greek fire, that
+it was the most horrible sight ever witnessed. When my companion, the
+good Sir Walter, saw this shower of fire, he cried out, "Gentlemen, we
+are all lost without remedy; for should they set fire to our
+chas-chateils we must be burnt; and if we quit our post we are for
+ever dishonored; from which I conclude, that no one can possibly save
+us from this peril but God, our benignant Creator; I therefore advise
+all of you, whenever they throw any of this Greek fire, to cast
+yourselves on your hands and knees, and cry for mercy to our Lord, in
+whom alone resides all power."
+
+As soon, therefore, as the Turks threw their fires, we flung ourselves
+on our hands and knees, as the wise man had advised; and this time
+they fell between our two cats into a hole in front, which our people
+had made to extinguish them; and they were instantly put out by a man
+appointed for that purpose. This Greek fire, in appearance, was like a
+large tun, and its tail was of the length of a long spear; the noise
+which it made was like to thunder; and it seemed a great dragon of
+fire flying through the air, giving so great a light with its flame,
+that we saw in our camp as clearly as in broad day. Thrice this night
+did they throw the fire from La Perriere, and four times from
+cross-bows.
+
+Each time that our good King St. Louis heard them make these
+discharges of fire, he cast himself on the ground, and with extended
+arms and eyes turned to the heavens, cried with a loud voice to our
+Lord, and shedding heavy tears, said "Good Lord God Jesus Christ,
+preserve thou me, and all my people"; and believe me, his sincere
+prayers were of great service to us. At every time the fire fell near
+us, he sent one of his knights to know how we were, and if the fire
+had hurt us. One of the discharges from the Turks fell beside a
+chas-chateil, guarded by the men of the Lord Courtenay, struck the
+bank of the river in front, and ran on the ground toward them, burning
+with flame. One of the knights of this guard instantly came to me,
+crying out, "Help us, my lord, or we are burnt; for there is a long
+train of Greek fire, which the Saracens have discharged, that is
+running straight for our castle."
+
+
+
+
+AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE
+
+ "Aucassin and Nicolette" is the title of a French romance of
+ the thirteenth century, the name of the author being
+ unknown. The only extant manuscript of the story is
+ preserved in the National Library of France. Several
+ translations into English are well known, among them those
+ by Augustus R. MacDonough, F. W. Bourdillon and Andrew Lang.
+
+
+
+
+How the Count Bougart of Valence made war on Count Garin of
+Beaucaire,--war so great, so marvelous, and so mortal that never a day
+dawned but always he was there, by the gates and walls and barriers of
+the town, with a hundred knights, and ten thousand men-at-arms,
+horsemen and footmen: so burned he the count's land, and spoiled his
+country, and slew his men. Now, the Count Garin de Beaucaire was old
+and frail, and his good days were gone over. No heir had he, neither
+son nor daughter, save one young man only; such an one as I shall tell
+you. Aucassin was the name of the damoiseau: fair was he, goodly, and
+great, and featly fashioned of his body and limbs. His hair was
+yellow, in little curls, his eyes blue-gray and laughing, his face
+beautiful and shapely, his nose high and well set, and so richly seen
+was he in all things good, that in him was none evil at all. But so
+suddenly was he overtaken of Love, who is a great master, that he
+would not, of his will, be a knight, nor take arms, nor follow
+tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed. Therefore his father and
+mother said to him:
+
+"Son, go take thine arms, mount thine horse, and hold thy land, and
+help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will they
+keep in battle their lives and lands, and thine and mine."
+
+"Father," answered Aucassin, "what are you saying now? Never may God
+give me aught of my desire, if I be a knight, or mount my horse, or
+face stour and battle wherein knights smite and are smitten again,
+unless thou give me Nicolette, my true love, that I love so well."
+
+"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolette go. A
+slave-girl is she, out of a strange land, and the viscount of this
+town bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath
+reared her and had her christened, and made her his god-daughter, and
+one day will find a young man for her, to win her bread honorably.
+Herein hast thou naught to make nor mend; but if a wife thou wilt
+have, I will give thee the daughter of a king, or a count. There is no
+man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter, thou shall
+have her."
+
+"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so high
+in all the world, that Nicolette, my sweet lady and love, would not
+grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of Germany, or
+Queen of France or England, it were little enough for her; so gentle
+is she and courteous, and debonnaire, and compact of all good
+qualities."
+
+When Count Garin de Beaucaire knew that he would not avail to withdraw
+Aucassin, his son, from the love of Nicolette, he went to the viscount
+of the city, who was his man, and spake to him saying: "Sir Count:
+away with Nicolette, thy daughter in God; curst be the land whence she
+was brought into this country, for by reason of her do I lose
+Aucassin, that will neither be a knight, nor do aught of the things
+that fall to him to be done. And wit ye well," he said, "that if I
+might have her at my will, I would turn her in a fire, and yourself
+might well be sore adread."
+
+"Sir," said the viscount, "this is grievous to me that he comes and
+goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maid at mine own
+charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my daughter in
+God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that should win her
+bread honorably. With this had Aucassin, thy son, naught to make or
+mend. But sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I will send her into
+that land and that country where never will he see her with his eyes."
+
+"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin: "thence might great
+evil come on thee."
+
+So parted they each from the other. Now the viscount was a right rich
+man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an upper
+chamber thereof he had Nicolette placed, with one old woman to keep
+her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine and such,
+things as were needful. Then he had the door sealed, that none might
+come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over against the
+garden, and quite strait, through which came to them a little air....
+
+Aucassin was cast into prison as ye have heard tell, and Nicolette, of
+her part, was in the chamber. Now it was summer-time, the month of
+May, when days are warm, and long, and clear, and the nights still and
+serene. Nicolette lay one night on her bed, and saw the moon shine
+clear through a window, and heard the nightingale sing in the garden,
+and she minded her of Aucassin her friend, whom she loved so well.
+Then fell she to thoughts of Count Garin of Beaucaire, that he hated
+her to death; and therefore deemed she that there she would no longer
+abide, for that, if she were told of, and the count knew where she
+lay, an ill death he would make her die. She saw that the old woman
+was sleeping, who held her company. Then she arose, and clad her in a
+mantle of silk she had by her, very goodly, and took sheets of the bed
+and towels and knotted one to the other, and made therewith a cord as
+long as she might, and knotted it to a pillar in the window, and let
+herself slip down into the garden; then caught up her raiment in both
+hands, behind and before, and kilted up her kirtle, because of the dew
+that she saw lying deep on the grass, and so went on her way down
+through the garden.
+
+Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue-gray and smiling, her
+face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red
+than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth white and small; and
+her breasts so firm that they bore up the folds of her bodice as they
+had been two walnuts; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands
+might have clipt her; and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as
+she went tiptoe, and that bent above her instep, seemed black against
+her feet and ankles, so white was the maiden. She came to the
+postern-gate, and unbarred it, and went out through the streets of
+Beaucaire, keeping always on the shadowy side, for the moon was
+shining right clear, and so wandered she till she came to the tower
+where her lover lay. The tower was flanked with pillars, and she
+cowered under one of them, wrapt in her mantle. Then thrust she her
+head through a crevice of the tower, that was old and worn, and heard
+Aucassin, who was weeping within, and making dole and lament for the
+sweet friend he loved so well. And when she had listened to him some
+time she began to speak....
+
+When Aucassin heard Nicolette say that she would pass into a far
+country, he was all in wrath.
+
+"Fair, sweet friend," quoth he, "thou shalt not go, for then wouldst
+thou be my death. And the first man that saw thee and had the might
+withal, would take thee straightway into his bed to be his leman. And
+once thou camest into a man's bed, and that bed not mine, wit ye well
+that I would not tarry till I had found a knife to pierce my heart and
+slay myself. Nay, verily, wait so long I would not; but would hurl
+myself so far as I might see a wall, or a black stone, and I would
+dash my head against it so mightily that the eyes would start and my
+brain burst. Rather would I die even such a death than know that thou
+hadst lain in a man's bed, and that bed not mine."
+
+"Aucassin," she said, "I trow thou lovest me not as much as thou
+sayest, but I love thee more than thou lovest me."
+
+"Ah, fair, sweet friend," said Aucassin, "it may not be that thou
+shouldest love me even as I love thee. Woman may not love man as man
+loves woman; for a woman's love lies in her eye, and the bud of her
+breast, and her foot's tiptoe, but the love of a man is in his heart
+planted, whence it can never issue forth and pass away."
+
+Now when Aucassin and Nicolette were holding this parley together, the
+town's watchmen were coming down a street, with swords drawn beneath
+their cloaks, for Count Garin had charged them that if they could take
+her, they should slay her. But the sentinel that was on the tower saw
+them coming, and heard them speaking of Nicolette as they went, and
+threatening to slay her.
+
+"God," quoth he, "this were great pity to slay so fair a maid! Right
+great charity it were if I could say aught to her, and they perceive
+it not, and she should be on her guard against them, for if they slay
+her, then were Aucassin, my damoiseau, dead, and that were great
+pity."...
+
+Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after Nicolette,
+and his horse bare him furiously. Think ye not that the thorns him
+spared, nor the briers, nay, not so, but tare his raiment, that scarce
+a knot might be tied with the soundest part thereof, and the blood
+spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, in forty places, or
+thirty, so that behind the Childe men might follow on the track of his
+blood in the grass. But so much he went in thoughts of Nicolette, his
+lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor torment, and all the day hurled
+through the forest in this fashion nor heard no word of her. And when
+he saw vespers draw nigh, he began to weep for that he found her not.
+All down an old road, and grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking
+along the way before him, he saw such an one as I shall tell you. Tall
+was he, and great of growth, ugly and hideous: his head huge, and
+blacker than charcoal, and more than the breadth of a hand between his
+two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big
+nostrils and wide, and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth
+yellow and ugly, and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide,
+bound with cords of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great
+cloak two-fold; and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin
+came unto him, and was afraid when he beheld him.
+
+So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night was
+fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of
+boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, over
+and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be
+seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopt suddenly, and the light
+of the moon fell therein.
+
+"Forsooth!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, and
+this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness of it,
+and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this night
+long."
+
+He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was
+great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right sweet
+friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his shoulder out
+of its place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore; nathless he bore him
+with that force he might, and fastened his horse with the other hand
+to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the
+lodge of boughs. And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the
+stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he
+to speak....
+
+When Nicolette heard Aucassin, she came to him, for she was not far
+away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his neck,
+clipt him and kissed him.
+
+"Fair, sweet friend, welcome be thou!"
+
+"And thou, fair, sweet love, be thou welcome!"
+
+So either kissed and clipt the other, and fair joy was them between.
+
+"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and my
+shoulder wried, but I take no heed of it, nor have no hurt therefrom,
+since I have thee."
+
+Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its place.
+And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought in her
+surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back into its
+place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves green, and
+bound them on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he was all
+healed....
+
+When all they of the court heard her speak thus, that she was daughter
+to the King of Carthage, they knew well that she spake truly; so made
+they great joy of her, and led her to the castle with great honor, as
+a king's daughter. And they would have given her to her lord a king of
+Paynim, but she had no mind to marry. There dwelt she three days or
+four. And she considered by what device she might seek for Aucassin.
+Then she got her a viol, and learned to play on it; till they would
+have married her one day to a rich king of Paynim, and she stole
+forth by night, and came to the seaport, and dwelt with a poor woman
+thereby. Then took she a certain herb, and therewith smeared her head
+and her face, till she was all brown and stained. And she had a coat,
+and mantle, and smock, and breeches made, and attired herself as if
+she had been a minstrel. So took she the viol and went to a mariner,
+and so wrought on him that he took her aboard his vessel. Then hoisted
+they sail, and fared on the high seas even till they came to the land
+of Provence. And Nicolette went forth and took the viol, and went
+playing through all the country, even till she came to the castle of
+Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.
+
+
+
+
+JEAN FROISSART
+
+ Born in France in 1337, died in 1410; went to England in
+ 1360 by invitation of Queen Philippa, a French woman;
+ visited Scotland in 1365 and Italy in 1368, where he met
+ Petrarch, and Chaucer; published his "Chronicles," covering
+ events from 1325 until about 1400, at the close of the
+ fifteenth century, the same being one of the first books
+ printed from movable types; the modern edition comprizes
+ twenty-five volumes.
+
+
+
+
+THE BATTLE OF CRÉCY[8]
+
+(1346)
+
+
+The Englishmen, who were in three battles lying on the ground to rest
+them, as soon as they saw the Frenchmen approach, they rose upon their
+feet fair and easily without any haste, and arranged their battles.
+The first, which was the Prince's battle, the archers there stood in
+manner of a herse and the men of arms in the bottom of the battle. The
+Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Arundel with the second battle
+were on a wing in good order, ready to comfort the Prince's battle, if
+need were.
+
+[Footnote 8: The field of Crécy lies about thirty miles northwest of
+Amiens, in France. The English under Edward III, numbering about
+40,000 men, here defeated the French under Philip VI, numbering 80,000
+men, the French loss being commonly placed at 30,000.
+
+Of the merits of Froissart, only one opinion has prevailed. He drew a
+faithful and vivid picture of events which in the main were personally
+known to him. "No more graphic account exists of any age," says one
+writer. Froissart was first translated into English in 1525 by
+Bourchier, Lord Berners, That translation was superseded later by
+others. In 1802-1805 Thomas Johnes made another translation, which has
+since been the one chiefly read.]
+
+The lords and knights of France came not to the assembly together in
+good order, for some came before and some came after, in such haste
+and evil order that one of them did trouble another. When the French
+King saw the Englishmen his blood changed, and said to his marshals,
+"Make the Genoways go on before, and begin the battle, in the name of
+God and St. Denis." There were of the Genoways' cross-bows about a
+fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going afoot that day a six
+leagues armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their
+constables, "We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not
+in the case to do any great deed of arms: we have more need of rest."
+These words came to the Earl of Alençon, who said, "A man is well at
+ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail
+now at most need." Also the same season there fell a great rain and a
+clipse with a terrible thunder, and before the rain there came flying
+over both battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest
+coming.
+
+Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and
+bright, the which was right in the Frenchmen's eyen and on the
+Englishmen's backs. When the Genoways were assembled together and
+began to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the
+Englishmen, but they stood still and stirred not for all that; then
+the Genoways again the second time made another leap and a fell cry,
+and stept forward a little, and the Englishmen removed not one foot;
+thirdly, again they leapt and cried, and went forth till they came
+within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the
+English archers stept forth one pace and let fly their arrows so
+wholly and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoways felt the
+arrows piercing through heads, arms, and breasts, many of them cast
+down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings and returned
+discomfited. When the French King saw them fly away, he said, "Slay
+these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason."
+
+Then ye should have seen the men of arms dash in among them and killed
+a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas
+they saw thickest press the sharp arrows ran into the men of arms and
+into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, among the Genoways,
+and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was
+so thick that one overthrew another. And also among the Englishmen
+there were certain rascals that went afoot with great knives, and they
+went in among the men of arms and slew and murdered many as they lay
+on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires; whereof the
+King of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been
+taken prisoners.
+
+The valiant King of Bohemia called Charles of Luxembourg, son to the
+noble Emperor Henry of Luxembourg, for all that he was nigh blind,
+when he understood the order of the battle, he said to them about him,
+"Where is the Lord Charles my son?" His men said, "Sir, we can not
+tell; we think he be fighting." Then he said, "Sirs, ye are my men, my
+companions and friends in this journey: I require you bring me so far
+forward that I may strike one stroke with my sword." They said they
+would do his commandment, and to the intent that they should not lose
+him in the press, they tied all their reins of their bridles each to
+other and set the King before to accomplish his desire, and so they
+went on their enemies. The Lord Charles of Bohemia his son, who wrote
+himself King of Almaine and bare the arms, he came in good order to
+the battle; but when he saw that the matter went awry on their party,
+he departed, I can not tell you which way. The King his father was so
+far forward that he strake a stroke with his sword, yea, and more than
+four, and fought valiantly, and so did his company; and they
+adventured themselves so forward that they were there all slain, and
+the next day they were found in the place about the King, and all
+their horses tied each to other.
+
+The Earl of Alençon came to the battle right ordinately and fought
+with the Englishmen, and the Earl of Flanders also on his part. These
+two lords with their companies coasted the English archers and came to
+the Prince's battle, and there fought valiantly long. The French King
+would fain have come thither, when he saw their banners, but there was
+a great hedge of archers before him. The same day the French King had
+given a great black courser to Sir John of Hainault, and he made the
+Lord Thierry of Senzeille to ride on him and to bear his banner. The
+same horse took the bridle in the teeth and brought him through all
+the currours of the Englishmen, and as he would have returned again,
+he fell in a great dike and was sore hurt, and had been there dead,
+and his page had not been, who followed him through all the battles
+and saw where his master lay in the dike, and had none other let but
+for his horse; for the Englishmen would not issue out of their battle
+for taking of any prisoner. Then the page alighted and relieved his
+master: then he went not back again the same way that they came; there
+was too many in his way.
+
+This battle between Broye and Crécy this Saturday was right cruel and
+fell, and many a feat of arms done that came not to my knowledge. In
+the night divers knights and squires lost their masters, and sometime
+came on the Englishmen, who received them in such wise that they were
+ever nigh slain; for there was none taken to mercy nor to ransom, for
+so the Englishmen were determined.
+
+In the morning the day of the battle certain Frenchmen and Almains
+perforce opened the archers of the Prince's battle, and came and
+fought with the men of arms hand to hand. Then the second battle of
+the Englishmen came to succor the Prince's battle, the which was time,
+for they had as then much ado; and they with the Prince sent a
+messenger to the King, who was on a little windmill hill. Then the
+knight said to the King, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick and the Earl of
+Oxford, Sir Raynold Cobham and other, such as be about the Prince your
+son, are fiercely fought withal and are sore handled; wherefore they
+desire you that you and your battle will come and aid them; for if the
+Frenchmen increase, as they doubt they will, your son and they shall
+have much ado." Then the King said, "Is my son dead, or hurt, or on
+the earth felled?" "No, sir," quoth the knight, "but he is hardly
+matched; wherefore he hath need of your aid." "Well," said the King,
+"return to him and to them that sent you hither, and say to them that
+they send no more to me for any adventure that falleth, as long as my
+son is alive: and also say to them that they suffer him this day to
+win his spurs; for if God be pleased, I will this journey be his and
+the honor thereof, and to them that be about him." Then the knight
+returned again to them and shewed the King's words, the which, greatly
+encouraged them, and repined in that they had sent to the King as they
+did.
+
+Sir Godfrey of Harcourt would gladly that the Earl of Harcourt, his
+brother, might have been saved; for he heard say by them that saw his
+banner how that he was there in the field on the French party: but Sir
+Godfrey could not come to him betimes, for he was slain or he could
+come at him, and so was also the Earl of Aumale his nephew. In another
+place the Earl of Alençon and the Earl of Flanders fought valiantly,
+every lord under his own banner; but finally they could not resist
+against the puissance of the Englishmen, and so there they were also
+slain, and divers other knights and squires. Also the Earl Louis of
+Blois, nephew to the French King, and the Duke of Lorraine, fought
+under their banners; but at last they were closed in among a company
+of Englishmen and Welshmen, and there were slain for all their
+prowess. Also there was slain the Earl of Auxerre, the Earl of
+Saint-Pol, and many other.
+
+In the evening the French King, who had left about him no more than a
+threescore persons, one and other, whereof Sir John of Hainault was
+one, who had remounted once the King, for his horse was slain with an
+arrow, then he said to the King, "Sir, depart hence, for it is time;
+lose not yourself willfully: if ye have loss at this time, ye shall
+recover it again another season." And so he took the King's horse by
+the bridle and led him away in a manner perforce. Then the King rode
+till he came to the castle of Broye. The gate was closed, because it
+was by that time dark: then the King called the captain, who came to
+the walls and said, "Who is that calleth there this time of night?"
+Then the King said, "Open your gate quickly, for this is the fortune
+of France." The captain knew then it was the King, and opened the gate
+and let down the bridge. Then the King entered, and he had with him
+but five barons, Sir John of Hainault, Sir Charles of Montmorency, the
+Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord d'Aubigny, and the Lord of Montsault. The
+King would not tarry there, but drank and departed thence about
+midnight, and so rode by such guides as knew the country till he came
+in the morning to Amiens, and there he rested.
+
+This Saturday the Englishmen never departed from their battles for
+chasing of any man, but kept still their field, and ever defended
+themselves against all such as came to assail them This battle ended
+about evensong time.
+
+
+
+
+PHILIPPE DE COMINES
+
+ Born in France about 1445, died in 1511; after serving
+ Charles the Bold, went over to Louis XI, in whose household
+ he was a confidant and adviser; arrested on political
+ charges in 1486 and imprisoned more than two years; arrested
+ later by Charles VIII and exiled for ten years; returning to
+ court, he fell into disgrace, went into retirement and wrote
+ his "Memoirs," the first series covering the history of
+ France between 1464 and 1483, the second, the period from
+ 1494 to 1498.
+
+
+
+
+OF THE CHARACTER OF LOUIS XI[9]
+
+
+I have seen many deceptions in this world, especially in servants
+toward their masters; and I have always found that proud and stately
+princes who will hear but few, are more liable to be imposed upon than
+those who are open and accessible: but of all the princes that I ever
+knew, the wisest and most dexterous to extricate himself out of any
+danger or difficulty in time of adversity was our master King Louis
+XI. He was the humblest in his conversation and habit, and the most
+painful and indefatigable to win over any man to his side that he
+thought capable of doing him either mischief or service: tho he was
+often refused, he would never give over a man that he wished to gain,
+but still prest and continued his insinuations, promising him largely,
+and presenting him with such sums and honors as he knew would gratify
+his ambition; and for such as he had discarded in time of peace and
+prosperity, he paid dear (when he had occasion for them) to recover
+them again; but when he had once reconciled them, he retained no
+enmity toward them for what has passed, but employed them freely for
+the future. He was naturally kind and indulgent to persons of mean
+estate, and hostile to all great men who had no need of him.
+
+[Footnote 9: From the "Memoirs." Louis reigned from 1461 to 1483. It
+was he, more than any other king, who represt the power of the feudal
+princes and consolidated their territories under the French monarchy.
+
+Comines has been called "the father of modern history." Hallam says
+his work "almost makes an epoch in historical literature"; while
+Sainte-Beuve has declared that from it "all political history takes
+its rise." Comines was translated into English by T. Banett in 1596.
+The best-known modern translation is the one in Bohn's Library, made
+by Andrew R. Scoble.]
+
+Never prince was so conversable nor so inquisitive as he, for his
+desire was to know everybody he could; and indeed he knew all persons
+of any authority or worth in England, Spain, Portugal, and Italy, in
+the territories of the Dukes of Burgundy and Bretagne, and among his
+own subjects: and by those qualities he preserved the crown upon his
+head, which was in much danger by the enemies he had created to
+himself upon his accession to the throne.
+
+But above all, his great bounty and liberality did him the greatest
+service: and yet, as he behaved himself wisely in time of distress, so
+when he thought himself a little out of danger, tho it were but by a
+truce, he would disoblige the servants and officers of his court by
+mean and petty ways which were little to his advantage; and as for
+peace, he could hardly endure the thoughts of it. He spoke slightingly
+of most people, and rather before their faces than behind their
+backs; unless he was afraid of them, and of that sort there were a
+great many, for he was naturally somewhat timorous. When he had done
+himself any prejudice by his talk, or was apprehensive he should do
+so, and wished to make amends, he would say to the person whom he had
+disobliged, "I am sensible my tongue has done me a good deal of
+mischief; but on the other hand, it has sometimes done me much good:
+however, it is but reason I should make some reparation for the
+injury." And he never used this kind of apologies to any person but he
+granted some favor to the person to whom he made it, and it was always
+of considerable amount.
+
+It is certainly a great blessing from God upon any prince to have
+experienced adversity as well as prosperity, good as well as evil, and
+especially if the good outweighs the evil, as it did in the King our
+master. I am of opinion that the troubles he was involved in in his
+youth, when he fled from his father and resided six years together
+with Philip, Duke of Burgundy, were of great service to him; for there
+he learned to be complaisant to such as he had occasion to use, which
+was no slight advantage of adversity. As soon as he found himself a
+powerful and crowned king, his mind was wholly bent upon revenge; but
+he quickly found the inconvenience of this, repented by degrees of his
+indiscretion, and made sufficient reparation for his folly and error
+by regaining those he had injured. Besides, I am very confident that
+if his education had not been different from the usual education of
+such nobles as I have seen in France, he could not so easily have
+worked himself out of his troubles: for they are brought up to
+nothing but to make themselves ridiculous, both in their clothes and
+discourse; they have no knowledge of letters; no wise man is suffered
+to come near them, to improve their understandings; they have
+governors who manage their business, but they do nothing themselves:
+nay, there are some nobles who tho they have an income of thirteen
+livres, will take pride to bid you "Go to my servants and let them
+answer you," thinking by such speeches to imitate the state and
+grandeur of a prince; and I have seen their servants take great
+advantage of them, giving them to understand they were fools; and if
+afterward they came to apply their minds to business and attempted to
+manage their own affairs, they began so late they could make nothing
+of it. And it is certain that all those who have performed any great
+or memorable action worthy to be recorded in history, began always in
+their youth; and this is to be attributed to the method of their
+education, or some particular blessing of God....
+
+Of all diversions he loved hunting and hawking in their seasons; but
+his chief delight was in dogs. In hunting, his eagerness and pain were
+equal to his pleasure, for his chase was the stag, which he always ran
+down. He rose very early in the morning, rode sometimes a great
+distance, and would not leave his sport, let the weather be never so
+bad; and when he came home at night he was often very weary, and
+generally in a violent passion with some of his courtiers or huntsmen;
+for hunting is a sport not always to be managed according to the
+master's direction; yet in the opinion of most people, he understood
+it as well as any prince of his time. He was continually at these
+sports, lodging in the country villages to which his recreations led
+him, till he was interrupted by business; for during the most part of
+the summer there was constantly war between him and Charles, Duke of
+Burgundy, and in the winter they made truces; so that he had but a
+little time during the whole year to spend in pleasure, and even then
+the fatigues he underwent were excessive. When his body was at rest
+his mind was at work, for he had affairs in several places at once,
+and would concern himself as much in those of his neighbors as in his
+own; putting officers of his own over all the great families, and
+endeavoring to divide their authority as much as possible. When he was
+at war he labored for a peace or a truce, and when he had obtained it
+he was impatient for war again. He troubled himself with many trifles
+in his government which he had better have left alone: but it was his
+temper, and he could not help it; besides, he had a prodigious memory,
+and he forgot nothing, but knew everybody, as well in other countries
+as in his own.
+
+And in truth he seemed better fitted to rule a world than to govern a
+single kingdom. I speak not of his minority, for then I was not with
+him; but when he was eleven years he was, by the advice of some of the
+nobility and others of his kingdom, embroiled in a war with his
+father, Charles VII, which lasted not long, and was called the
+Praguerie. When he was arrived at man's estate he was married, much
+against his inclination, to the King of Scotland's daughter; and he
+regretted her existence during the whole course of her life.
+Afterward, by reason of the broils and factions in his father's court,
+he retired into Dauphiny (which was his own), whither many persons of
+quality followed him, and indeed more than he could entertain. During
+his residence in Dauphiny he married the Duke of Savoy's daughter, and
+not long after he had great disputes with his father-in-law, and a
+terrible war was begun between them.
+
+His father, King Charles VII, seeing his son attended by so many good
+officers and raising men at his pleasure, resolved to go in person
+against him with a considerable body of forces, in order to disperse
+them. While he was upon his march he put out proclamations, requiring
+them all as his subjects, under great penalties, to repair to him; and
+many obeyed, to the great displeasure of the Dauphin, who finding his
+father incensed, tho he was strong enough to resist, resolved to
+retire and leave that country to him; and accordingly he removed with
+but a slender retinue into Burgundy to Duke Philip's court, who
+received him honorably, furnished him nobly, and maintained him and
+his principal servants by way of pensions; and to the rest he gave
+presents as he saw occasion during the whole time of their residence
+there. However, the Dauphin entertained so many at his own expense
+that his money often failed, to his great disgust and mortification;
+for he was forced to borrow, or his people would have forsaken him;
+which is certainly a great affliction to a prince who was utterly
+unaccustomed to those straits. So that during his residence at the
+court of Burgundy he had his anxieties, for he was constrained to
+cajole the duke and his ministers, lest they should think he was too
+burdensome and had laid too long upon their hands; for he had been
+with them six years, and his father, King Charles, was constantly
+pressing and soliciting the Duke of Burgundy, by his ambassadors,
+either to deliver him up to him or to banish him out of his dominions.
+And this, you may believe, gave the Dauphin some uneasy thoughts and
+would not suffer him to be idle. In which season of his life, then,
+was it that he may be said to have enjoyed himself? I believe from his
+infancy and innocence to his death, his whole life was nothing but one
+continued scene of troubles and fatigues; and I am of opinion that if
+all the days of his life were computed in which his joys and pleasures
+outweighed his pain and trouble, they would be found so few that there
+would be twenty mournful ones to one pleasant.
+
+
+
+
+MARGUERITE D'ANGOULÊME
+
+ Born in France in 1492, died in 1549; sister of Francis I;
+ married in 1509 Due d'Alençon, and later Henri d'Albret,
+ King of Navarre; assumed the direction of government after
+ the death of the King in 1554; wrote poems and letters, the
+ latter published in 1841-42; her "Heptameron" modeled on the
+ "Decameron" of Boccaccio, published in 1558 after her death,
+ its authorship perhaps collaborative.
+
+
+
+
+OF HUSBANDS WHO ARE UNFAITHFUL[10]
+
+
+A little company of five ladies and five noble gentlemen have been
+interrupted in their travels by heavy rains and great floods, and find
+themselves together in a hospitable abbey. They while away the time as
+best they can, and the second day Parlamente says to the old Lady
+Oisille, "Madame, I wonder that you who have so much experience do not
+think of some pastime to sweeten the gloom that our long delay here
+causes us." The other ladies echo her wishes, and all the gentlemen
+agree with them, and beg the Lady Oisille to be pleased to direct how
+they shall amuse themselves. She answers them:
+
+[Footnote 10: From the "Heptameron," of which a translation by R.
+Codrington appeared in London in 1654.]
+
+"My children, you ask of me something that I find very difficult,--to
+teach you a pastime that can deliver you from your sadness; for having
+sought some such remedy all my life I have never found but one--the
+reading of Holy Writ; in which is found the true and perfect joy of
+the mind, from which proceed the comfort and health of the body. And
+if you ask me what keeps me so joyous and so healthy in my old age, it
+is that as soon as I rise I take and read the Holy Scriptures, seeing
+and contemplating the will of God, who for our sakes sent His son on
+earth to announce this holy word and good news, by which He promises
+remission of sins, satisfaction for all duties by the gifts He makes
+us of His love, passion and merits. This consideration gives me so
+much joy that I take my Psalter and as humbly as I can I sing with my
+heart and pronounce with my tongue the beautiful psalms and canticles
+that the Holy Spirit wrote in the heart of David and of other authors.
+And this contentment that I have in them does me so much good that the
+ills that every day may happen to me seem to me to be blessings,
+seeing that I have in my heart, by faith, Him who has borne them for
+me. Likewise, before supper, I retire, to pasture my soul in reading;
+and then, in the evening, I call to mind what I have done in the past
+day, in order to ask pardon for my faults, and to thank Him for His
+kindnesses, and in His love, fear and peace I repose, assured against
+all ills. Wherefore, my children, this is the pastime in which I have
+long stayed my steps, after having searched all things, where I found
+no content for my spirit. It seems to me that if every morning you
+will give an hour to reading, and then, during mass, devoutly say your
+prayers, you will find in this desert the same beauty as in cities;
+for he who knows God, sees all beautiful things in Him, and without
+Him all is ugliness....
+
+"I beg you, ladies," continues the narrator, "if God give you such
+husbands,[11] not to despair till you have long tried every means to
+reclaim them; for there are twenty-four hours in a day in which a man
+may change his way of thinking, and a woman should deem herself
+happier to have won her husband by patience and long effort than if
+fortune and her parents had given her a more perfect one." "Yes," said
+Oisille, "this is an example for all married women."--"Let her follow
+this example who will," said Parlamente: "but as for me, it would not
+be possible for me to have such long patience; for, however true it
+may be that in all estates patience is a fine virtue, it's my opinion
+that in marriage it brings about at last unfriendliness; because,
+suffering unkindness from a fellow being, one is forced to separate
+from him as far as possible, and from this separation arises a
+contempt for the fault of the disloyal one, and in this contempt
+little by little love diminishes; for it is what is valued that is
+loved."--"But there is danger," said Ennarsuite, "that the impatient
+wife may find a furious husband, who would give her pain in lieu of
+patience."--"But what could a husband do," said Parlamente, "save what
+has been recounted in this story?"--"What could he do?" said
+Ennarsuite, "he could beat his wife."...
+
+[Footnote 11: That is, unfaithful husbands.]
+
+"I think," said Parlamente, "that a good woman would not be so grieved
+in being beaten out of anger, as in being contemptuously treated by a
+man who does not care for her, and after having endured the suffering
+of the loss of his friendship, nothing the husband might do would
+cause her much concern. And besides, the story says that the trouble
+she took to draw him back to her was because of her love for her
+children, and I believe it."--"And do you think it was so very patient
+of her," said Nomerfide, "to set fire to the bed in which her husband
+was sleeping?"--"Yes," said Longarine, "for when she saw the smoke she
+awoke him; and that was just the thing where she was most in fault,
+for of such husbands as those the ashes are good to make lye for the
+washtub."--"You are cruel, Longarine," said Oisille, "and you did not
+live in such fashion with your husband."--"No," said Longarine, "for,
+God be thanked, he never gave me such occasion, but reason to regret
+him all my life, instead of to complain of him."--"And if he had
+treated you in this way," said Nomerfide, "what would you have
+done?"--"I loved him so much," said Longarine, "that I think I should
+have killed him and then killed myself; for to die after such
+vengeance would be pleasanter to me than to live faithfully with a
+faithless husband."
+
+"As far as I see," said Hircan, "you love your husbands only for
+yourselves. If they are good after your own heart, you love them well;
+if they commit toward you the least fault in the world, they have lost
+their week's work by a Saturday. The long and the short is that you
+want to be mistresses; for my part I am of your mind, provided all the
+husbands also agree to it."--"It is reasonable," said Parlamente,
+"that the man rule us as our head, but not that he desert us or
+ill-treat us."--"God," said Oisille, "has set in such due order the
+man and the woman that if the marriage estate is not abused, I hold it
+to be one of the most beautiful and stable conditions in the World;
+and I am sure that all those here present, whatever air they assume,
+think no less highly of it. And forasmuch as men say they are wiser
+than women, they should be more sharply punished when the fault is on
+their side. But we have talked enough on this subject."
+
+
+
+
+FRANÇOIS RABELAIS
+
+ Born in Touraine in 1495, died in Paris in 1553; educated at
+ an abbey and spent fifteen or more years as a monk; Studied
+ medicine in 1530 and practised in Lyons; traveled in Italy;
+ in charge of a parish at Meudon in 1550-52; composed
+ almanacs and edited old medical books; published
+ "Pantagruel" in 1533 and "Gargantua" in 1535, the success of
+ which led to several sequels, the last appearing in the year
+ of his death.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GARGANTUA IN HIS CHILDHOOD[12]
+
+
+Gargantua, from three years to five, was nourished and instructed in
+all proper discipline by the commandment of his father, and spent that
+time like the other little children of the country,--that is, in
+drinking, eating, and sleeping; in eating, sleeping, and drinking; and
+in sleeping, drinking, and eating. Still he wallowed in the mire,
+blackened his face, trod down his shoes at heel; at the flies he did
+oftentimes yawn, and willingly run after the butterflies, the empire
+whereof belonged to his father. He sharpened his teeth with a slipper,
+washed his hands with his broth, combed his head with a bowl, sat down
+between two stools and came to the ground, covered himself with a wet
+sack, drank while eating his soup, ate his cake without bread, would
+bite in laughing, laugh in biting, hide himself in the water for fear
+of rain, go cross, fall into dumps, look demure, skin the fox, say the
+ape's _paternoster_, return to his sheep, turn the sows into the hay,
+beat the dog before the lion, put the cart before the horse, scratch
+where he did not itch, shoe the grasshopper, tickle himself to make
+himself laugh, know flies in milk, scrape paper, blur parchment, then
+run away, pull at the kid's leather, reckon without his host, beat the
+bushes without catching the birds, and thought that bladders were
+lanterns. He always looked a gift-horse in the mouth, hoped to catch
+larks if ever the heavens should fall, and made a virtue of necessity.
+Every morning his father's puppies ate out of the dish with him, and
+he with them. He would bite their ears, and they would scratch his
+nose. The good man Grangousier said to Gargantua's governesses:
+
+[Footnote 12: From Book I, Chapter XI, of "The Inestimable Life of the
+Great Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The basis of all English
+translations of Rabelais is the work begun by Sir Thomas Urquhart and
+completed by Peter A. Motteux. Urquhart was a Scotchman, who was born
+in 1611 and died in 1660. Motteux was a Frenchman, who settled in
+England after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and was the
+author of several plays. This translation has been called "one of the
+most perfect that ever man accomplished." Other and later versions
+have usually been based on Urquhart and Motteux, but have been
+expurgated, as is the case with the passages given here. An earlier
+version of "Pantagruel," published in London in 1620, was ascribed to
+"Democritus Pseudomantio."
+
+Rabelais, by common, consent, has a place among the greatest prose
+writers of the world. In his knowledge of human nature and his
+literary excellence, he is often ranked as inferior only to
+Shakespeare. As an exponent of the sentiments and atmosphere of his
+own time, we find in him what is found only in a few of the world's
+greatest writers. That he has not been more widely read in modern
+times, is attributed chiefly to the extraordinary coarseness of
+language which he constantly introduces into his pages. This
+coarseness is, in fact, so pervasive that expurgation is made
+extremely difficult to any one who would preserve some fair remnant of
+the original.]
+
+"Philip, King of Macedon, knew the wit of his son Alexander, by his
+skilful managing of a horse;[13] for the said horse was so fierce and
+unruly that none durst adventure to ride him, because he gave a fall
+to all his riders, breaking the neck of this man, the leg of that, the
+brain of one, and the jawbone of another. This by Alexander being
+considered, one day in the hippodrome (which was a place appointed for
+the walking and running of horses), he perceived that the fury of the
+horse proceeded merely from the fear he had of his own shadow;
+whereupon, getting on his back he ran him against the sun, so that the
+shadow fell behind, and by that means tamed the horse and brought him
+to his hand. Whereby his father recognized the divine judgment that
+was in him, and caused him most carefully to be instructed by
+Aristotle, who at that time was highly renowned above all the
+philosophers of Greece. After the same manner I tell you, that as
+regards my son Gargantua, I know that his understanding doth
+participate of some divinity,--so keen, subtle, profound, and clear do
+I find him; and if he be well taught, he will attain to a sovereign
+degree of wisdom. Therefore will I commit him to some learned man, to
+have him indoctrinated according to his capacity, and will spare no
+cost."
+
+[Footnote 13: The famous horse Bucephalus is here referred to.]
+
+Whereupon they appointed him a great sophister-doctor, called Maître
+Tubal Holophernes, who taught him his A B C so well that he could say
+it by heart backward; and about this he was five years and three
+months. Then read he to him Donat, Facet, Theodolet, and Alanus _in
+parabolis_. About this he was thirteen years, six months, and two
+weeks. But you must remark that in the mean time he did learn to write
+in Gothic characters, and that he wrote all his books,--for the art of
+printing was not then in use. After that he read unto him the book "De
+Modis Significandi," with the commentaries of Hurtebise, of Fasquin,
+of Tropditeux, of Gaulehaut, of John le Veau, of Billonio, of
+Brelingandus, and a rabble of others; and herein he spent more than
+eighteen years and eleven months, and was so well versed in it that at
+the examination he would recite it by heart backward, and did
+sometimes prove on his fingers to his mother _quod de modis
+significandi non erat scientia_. Then did he read to him the
+"Compost," on which he spent sixteen years and two months, and that
+justly at the time his said preceptor died, which was in the year one
+thousand four hundred and twenty.
+
+Afterward he got another old fellow with a cough to teach him, named
+Maître Jobelin Bridé, who read unto him Hugutio, Hebrard's "Grécisme,"
+the "Doctrinal," the "Parts," the "Quid Est," the "Supplementum";
+Marmoquet "De Moribus in Mensa Servandis"; Seneca "De Quatour
+Virtutibus Cardinalibus"; Passavantus "Cum Commento" and "Dormi
+Securé," for the holidays; and some other of such-like stuff, by
+reading whereof he became as wise as any we have ever baked in an
+oven.
+
+At the last his father perceived that indeed he studied hard, and that
+altho he spent all his time in it, he did nevertheless profit
+nothing, but which is worse, grew thereby foolish, simple, doted, and
+blockish: whereof making a heavy regret to Don Philip des Marays,
+Viceroy of Papeligose, he found that it were better for him to learn
+nothing at all than to be taught such-like books under such
+schoolmasters; because their knowledge was nothing but brutishness,
+and their wisdom but toys, bastardizing good and noble spirits and
+corrupting the flower of youth. "That it is so, take," said he, "any
+young boy of the present time, who hath only studied two years: if he
+have not a better judgment, a better discourse, and that exprest in
+better terms, than your son, with a completer carriage and civility to
+all manner of persons, account me forever a chawbacon of La Brène."
+
+This pleased Grangousier very well, and he commanded that it should be
+done. At night at supper, the said Des Marays brought in a young page
+of his from Ville-gouges, called Eudemon, so well combed, so well
+drest, so well brushed, so sweet in his behavior, that he resembled a
+little angel more than a human creature. Then he said to Grangousier,
+"Do you see this child? He is not as yet full twelve years old. Let us
+try, if it pleaseth you, what difference there is betwixt the
+knowledge of the doting dreamers of old time and the young lads that
+are now."
+
+The trial pleased Grangousier, and he commanded the page to begin.
+Then Eudemon, asking leave of the viceroy, his master, so to do, with
+his cap in his hand, a clear and open countenance, ruddy lips, his
+eyes steady, and his looks fixt upon Gargantua, with a youthful
+modesty, stood up straight on his feet and began to commend and
+magnify him, first, for his virtue and good manners; secondly, for his
+knowledge; thirdly, for his nobility; fourthly, for his bodily beauty;
+and in the fifth place, sweetly exhorted him to reverence his father
+with all observancy, who was so careful to have him well brought up.
+In the end he prayed him that he would vouchsafe to admit of him
+amongst the least of his servants; for other favor at that time
+desired he none of heaven but that he might do him some grateful and
+acceptable service.
+
+All this was by him delivered with gestures so proper, pronunciation
+so distinct, a voice so eloquent, language so well turned, and in such
+good Latin, that he seemed rather a Gracchus, a Cicero, an Æmilius of
+the time past than a youth of his age. But all the countenance that
+Gargantua kept was that he fell to crying like a cow, and cast down
+his face, hiding it with his cap; nor could they possibly draw one
+word from him. Whereat his father was so grievously vexed that he
+would have killed Maître Jobelin; but the said Des Marays withheld him
+from it by fair persuasions, so that at length he pacified his wrath.
+The Grangousier commanded he should be paid his wages, that they
+should make him drink theologically, after which he was to go to all
+the devils. "At least," said he, "to-day shall it not cost his host
+much, if by chance he should die as drunk as an Englishman."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+GARGANTUA'S EDUCATION[14]
+
+
+Maître Jobelin being gone out of the house, Grangousier consulted with
+the viceroy what tutor they should choose for Gargantua; and it was
+betwixt them resolved that Ponocrates, the tutor of Eudemon, should
+have the charge, and that they should all go together to Paris to know
+what was the study of the young men of France at that time....
+
+[Footnote 14: From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.]
+
+Ponocrates appointed that for the beginning he should do as he had
+been accustomed; to the end he might understand by what means, for so
+long a time, his old masters had made him so foolish, simple, and
+ignorant. He disposed, therefore, of his time in such fashion that
+ordinarily he did awake between eight and nine o'clock, whether it was
+day or not; for so had his ancient governors ordained, alleging that
+which David saith, _Vanum est vobis ante lucem surgere_. Then did he
+tumble and wallow in the bed some time, the better to stir up his
+vital spirits, and appareled himself according to the season; but
+willingly he would wear a great long gown of thick frieze, lined with
+fox fur. Afterward he combed his head with the German comb, which is
+the four fingers and the thumb; for his preceptors said that to comb
+himself otherwise, to wash and make himself neat was to lose time in
+this world. Then to suppress the dew and bad air, he breakfasted on
+fair fried tripe, fair grilled meats, fair hams, fair hashed capon,
+and store of sipped brewis.
+
+Ponocrates showed him that he ought not to eat so soon after rising
+out of his bed, unless he had performed some exercise beforehand.
+Gargantua answered: "What! have not I sufficiently well exercised
+myself? I rolled myself six or seven turns in my bed before I rose. Is
+not that enough? Pope Alexander did so, by the advice of a Jew, his
+physician; and lived till his dying day in despite of the envious. My
+first masters have used me to it, saying that breakfast makes a good
+memory; wherefore they drank first. I am very well after it, and dine
+but the better. And Maître Tubal, who was the first licentiate at
+Paris, told me that it is not everything to run a pace, but to set
+forth well betimes: so doth not the total welfare of our humanity
+depend upon perpetual drinking _atas_, _atas_, like ducks, but on
+drinking well in the morning; whence the verse----
+
+ "'To rise betimes is no good hour,
+ To drink betimes is better sure.'"
+
+After he had thoroughly broken his fast, he went to church; and they
+carried for him, in a great basket, a huge breviary. There he heard
+six-and-twenty or thirty masses. This while, to the same place came
+his sayer of hours, lapped up about the chin like a tufted whoop, and
+his breath perfumed with good store of sirup. With him he mumbled all
+his kyriels, which he so curiously picked that there fell not so much
+as one grain to the ground. As he went from the church, they brought
+him, upon a dray drawn by oxen, a heap of paternosters of Sanct
+Claude, every one of them being of the bigness of a hat-block; and
+thus walking through the cloisters, galleries, or garden, he said more
+in turning them over than sixteen hermits would have done. Then did he
+study for some paltry half-hour with his eyes fixt upon his book; but
+as the comic saith, his mind was in the kitchen. Then he sat down at
+table; and because he was naturally phlegmatic, he began his meal with
+some dozens of hams, dried meats' tongues, mullet's roe, chitterlings,
+and such other forerunners of wine.
+
+In the meanwhile, four of his folks did cast into his mouth, one after
+another continually, mustard by whole shovelfuls. Immediately after
+that he drank a horrific draft of white wine for the ease of his
+kidneys. When that was done, he ate according to the season meat
+agreeable to his appetite, and then left off eating when he was like
+to crack for fulness. As for his drinking, he had neither end nor
+rule. For he was wont to say, that the limits and bounds of drinking
+were when the cork of the shoes of him that drinketh swelleth up half
+a foot high.
+
+Then heavily mumbling a scurvy grace, he washed his hands in fresh
+wine, picked his teeth with the foot of a pig, and talked jovially
+with his attendants. Then the carpet being spread, they brought great
+store of cards, dice, and chessboards.
+
+After having well played, reveled, passed and spent his time, it was
+proper to drink a little, and that was eleven goblets the man; and
+immediately after making good cheer again, he would stretch himself
+upon a fair bench, or a good large bed, and there sleep two or three
+hours together without thinking or speaking any hurt. After he was
+awakened he would shake his ears a little. In the mean time they
+brought him fresh wine. Then he drank better than ever. Ponocrates
+showed him that it was an ill diet to drink so after sleeping. "It
+is," answered Gargantua, "the very life of the Fathers; for naturally
+I sleep salt, and my sleep hath been to me instead of so much ham."
+
+Then began he to study a little, and the paternosters first, which the
+better and more formally to dispatch, he got up on an old mule which
+had served nine kings; and so mumbling with his mouth, doddling his
+head, would go see a coney caught in a net. At his return he went into
+the kitchen to know what roast meat was on the spit; and supped very
+well, upon my conscience, and commonly did invite some of his
+neighbors that were good drinkers; with whom carousing, they told
+stories of all sorts, from the old to the new. After supper were
+brought in upon the place the fair wooden gospels--that is to say,
+many pairs of tables and cards--with little small banquets, intermined
+with collations and reer-suppers. Then did he sleep without unbridling
+until eight o'clock in the next morning.
+
+When Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vicious manner of living, he resolved
+to bring him up in another kind; but for a while he bore with him,
+considering that nature does not endure sudden changes without great
+violence. Therefore, to begin his work the better, he requested a
+learned physician of that time, called Maître Theodorus, seriously to
+perpend, if it were possible, how to bring Gargantua unto a better
+course. The said physician purged him canonically with Anticyran
+hellebore, by which medicine he cleansed all the alteration and
+perverse habitude of his brain. By this means also Ponocrates made him
+forget all that he had learned under his ancient preceptors. To do
+this better, they brought him into the company of learned men who were
+there, in emulation of whom a great desire and affection came to him
+to study otherwise, and to improve his parts. Afterward he put himself
+into such a train of study that he lost not any hour in the day, but
+employed all his time in learning and honest knowledge. Gargantua
+awaked then about four o'clock in the morning.
+
+While they were rubbing him, there was read unto him some chapter of
+the Holy Scripture aloud and clearly, with a pronunciation fit for the
+matter; and hereunto was appointed a young page born in Basché, named
+Anagnostes. According to the purpose and argument of that lesson, he
+oftentimes gave himself to revere, adore, pray, and send up his
+supplications to what good God whose word did show His majesty and
+marvelous judgments. Then his master repeated what had been read,
+expounding unto him the most obscure and difficult points. They then
+considered the face of the sky, if it was such as they had observed it
+the night before, and into what signs the sun was entering, as also
+the moon for that day. This done, he was appareled, combed, curled,
+trimmed, and perfumed, during which time they repeated to him the
+lessons of the day before. He himself said them by heart, and upon
+them grounded practical cases concerning the estate of man; which he
+would prosecute sometimes two or three hours, but ordinarily they
+ceased as soon as he was fully clothed. Then for three good hours
+there was reading. This done, they went forth, still conferring of the
+substance of the reading, and disported themselves at ball, tennis, or
+the _pile trigone_; gallantly exercising their bodies, as before they
+had done their minds. All their play was but in liberty, for they left
+off when they pleased; and that was commonly when they did sweat, or
+were otherwise weary. Then were they very well dried and rubbed,
+shifted their shirts, and walking soberly, went to see if dinner was
+ready. While they stayed for that, they did clearly and eloquently
+recite some sentences that they had retained of the lecture.
+
+In the mean time Master Appetite came, and then very orderly sat they
+down at table. At the beginning of the meal there was read some
+pleasant history of ancient prowess, until he had taken his wine. Then
+if they thought good, they continued reading, or began to discourse
+merrily together; speaking first of the virtue, propriety, efficacy,
+and nature of all that was served in at that table; of bread, of wine,
+of water, of salt, of flesh, fish, fruits, herbs, roots, and of their
+dressing. By means whereof, he learned in a little time all the
+passages that on these subject are to be found in Pliny, Athenæus,
+Dioscorides, Julius Pollux, Gallen, Porphyrius, Oppian, Polybius,
+Heliodorus, Aristotle, Ælian, and others. While they talked of these
+things, many times, to be more the certain, they caused the very books
+to be brought to the table; and so well and perfectly did he in his
+memory retain the things above said, that in that time there was not a
+physician that knew half so much as he did. Afterward they conferred
+of the lessons read in the morning; and ending their repast with some
+conserve of quince, he washed his hands and eyes with fair fresh
+water, and gave thanks unto God in some fine canticle, made in praise
+of the divine bounty and munificence.
+
+This done, they brought in cards, not to play, but to learn a thousand
+pretty tricks and new inventions, which were all grounded upon
+arithmetic. By this means he fell in love with that numerical science;
+and every day after dinner and supper he passed his time in it as
+pleasantly as he was wont to do at cards and dice: so that at last he
+understood so well both the theory and practise thereof, that Tonstal
+the Englishman, who had written very largely of that purpose, confest
+that verily in comparison of him he understood nothing but double
+Dutch; and not only in that, but in the other mathematical sciences,
+as geometry, astronomy, music. For while waiting for the digestion of
+his food, they made a thousand joyous instruments and geometrical
+figures, and at the same time practised the astronomical canons.
+
+After this they recreated themselves with singing musically, in four
+or five parts, or upon a set theme, as it best pleased them. In matter
+of musical instruments, he learned to play the lute, the spinet, the
+harp, the German flute, the flute with nine holes, the violin, and the
+sackbut. This hour thus spent, he betook himself to his principal
+study for three hours together, or more, as well to repeat his
+matutinal lectures as to proceed in the book wherein he was; as also
+to write handsomely, to draw and form the antique and Roman letters.
+This being done, they went out of their house, and with them a young
+gentleman of Touraine, named Gymnast, who taught him the art of
+riding.
+
+Changing then his clothes, he mounted on any kind of a horse, which he
+made to bound in the air, to jump the ditch, to leap the palisade, and
+to turn short in a ring both to the right and left hand. There he
+broke not his lance; for it is the greatest foolishness in the world
+to say, I have broken ten lances at tilts or in fight. A carpenter can
+do even as much. But it is a glorious and praiseworthy action with one
+lance to break and overthrow ten enemies. Therefore with a sharp,
+strong, and stiff lance would he usually force a door, pierce a
+harness, uproot a tree, carry away the ring, lift up a saddle, with
+the mail-coat and gantlet. All this he did in complete arms from head
+to foot. He was singularly skilful in leaping nimbly from one horse to
+another without putting foot to ground. He could likewise from either
+side, with a lance in his hand, leap on horseback without stirrups,
+and rule the horse at his pleasure without a bridle; for such things
+are useful in military engagements. Another day he exercised the
+battle-ax, which he so dextrously wielded that he was passed knight of
+arms in the field.
+
+Then tossed he the pike, played with the two-handed sword, with the
+back sword, with the Spanish tuck, the dagger, poniard, armed,
+unarmed, with a buckler, with a cloak, with a target. Then would he
+hunt the hart, the roebuck, the bear, the fallow deer, the wild boar,
+the hare, the pheasant, the partridge, and the bustard. He played at
+the great ball, and made it bound in the air, both with fist and foot.
+He wrestled, ran, jumped, not at three steps and a leap, nor a
+hopping, nor yet at the German jump; "for," said Gymnast, "these jumps
+are for the wars altogether unprofitable, and of no use": but at one
+leap he would skip over a ditch, spring over a hedge, mount six paces
+upon a wall, climb after this fashion up against a window, the height
+of a lance.
+
+He did swim in deep waters on his face, on his back, sidewise, with
+all his body, with his feet only, with one hand in the air, wherein he
+held a book, crossing thus the breadth of the river Seine without
+wetting, and dragging along his cloak with his teeth, as did Julius
+Cæsar; then with the help of one hand he entered forcibly into a boat,
+from whence he cast himself again headlong into the water, sounded the
+depths, hollowed the rocks, and plunged into the pits and gulfs. Then
+turned he the boat about, governed it, led it swiftly or slowly with
+the stream and against the stream, stopt it in its course, guided it
+with one hand, and with the other laid hard about him with a huge
+great oar, hoisted the sail, hied up along the mast by the shrouds,
+ran upon the bulwarks, set the compass, tackled the bowlines, and
+steered the helm. Coming out of the water, he ran furiously up
+against a hill, and with the same alacrity and swiftness ran down
+again. He climbed up trees like a cat, leaped from the one to the
+other like a squirrel. He did pull down the great boughs and branches,
+like another Milo: then with two sharp well-steeled daggers, and two
+tried bodkins, would he run up by the wall to the very top of a house
+like a rat; then suddenly come down from the top to the bottom, with
+such an even disposal of members that by the fall he would catch no
+harm.
+
+He did cast the dart, throw the bar, put the stone, practise the
+javelin, the boar-spear or partizan, and the halbert. He broke the
+strongest bows in drawing, bended against his breast the greatest
+cross-bows of steel, took his aim by the eye with the hand-gun,
+traversed the cannon; shot at the butts, at the pape-gay, before him,
+sidewise, and behind him, like the Parthians. They tied a cable-rope
+to the top of a high tower, by one end whereof hanging near the ground
+he wrought himself with his hands to the very top; then came down
+again so sturdily and firmly that you could not on a plain meadow have
+run with more assurance. They set up a great pole fixt upon two trees.
+There would he hang by his hands, and with them alone, his feet
+touching at nothing, would go back and fore along the aforesaid rope
+with so great swiftness, that hardly could one overtake him with
+running.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+OF THE FOUNDING OF AN IDEAL ABBEY[15]
+
+
+There was left only the monk to provide for; whom Gargantua would have
+made Abbot of Seuillé, but he refused it. He would have given him the
+Abbey of Bourgueil, or of Sanct Florent, which was better, or both if
+it pleased him; but the monk gave him a very peremptory answer, that
+he would never take upon him the charge nor government of monks. "For
+how shall I be able," said he, "to rule over others, that have not
+full power and command of myself? If you think I have done you, or may
+hereafter do you any acceptable service, give me leave to found an
+abbey after my own mind and fancy." The motion pleased Gargantua very
+well; who thereupon offered him all the country of Thelema by the
+river Loire, till within two leagues of the great forest of
+Port-Huaut. The monk then requested Gargantua to institute his
+religious order contrary to all others.
+
+[Footnote 15: From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.]
+
+"First, then," said Gargantua, "you must not build a wall about your
+convent, for all other abbeys are strongly walled and mured about."
+
+Moreover, seeing there are certain convents in the world whereof the
+custom is, if any women come in--I mean honorable and honest
+women--they immediately sweep the ground which they have trod upon;
+therefore was it ordained that if any man or woman, entered into
+religious orders, should by chance come within this new abbey, all the
+rooms should be thoroughly washed and cleansed through which they had
+passed.
+
+And because in other monasteries all is compassed, limited, and
+regulated by hours, it was decreed that in this new structure there
+should, be neither clock nor dial, but that according to the
+opportunities, and incident occasions, all their works should be
+disposed of; "for," said Gargantua, "the greatest loss of time that I
+know is to count the hours. What good comes of it? Nor can there be
+any greater folly in the world than for one to guide and direct his
+courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment and
+discretion."
+
+_Item_, Because at that time they put no women into nunneries but such
+as were either one-eyed, lame, humpbacked, ill-favored, misshapen,
+foolish, senseless, spoiled, or corrupt; nor encloistered any men but
+those that were either sickly, ill-bred, clownish, and the trouble of
+the house:
+
+("Apropos," said the monk--"a woman that is neither fair nor good, to
+what use serves she?" "To make a nun of," said Gargantua. "Yes," said
+the monk, "and to make shirts.")
+
+Therefore, Gargantua said, was it ordained, that into this religious
+order should be admitted no women that were not fair, well-featured,
+and of a sweet disposition; nor men that were not comely, personable,
+and also of a sweet disposition.
+
+_Item_, Because in the convents of women men come not but underhand,
+privily, and by stealth? it was therefore enacted that in this house
+there shall be no women in case there be not men, nor men in case
+there be not women.
+
+_Item_, Because both men and women that are received into religious
+orders after the year of their novitiates were constrained and forced
+perpetually to stay there all the days of their life: it was ordered
+that all of whatever kind, men or women, admitted within this abbey,
+should have full leave to depart with peace and contentment whensoever
+it should seem good to them so to do.
+
+_Item_, For that the religious men and women did ordinarily make three
+vows--to wit, those of chastity, poverty, and obedience: it was
+therefore constituted and appointed that in this convent they might be
+honorably married, that they might be rich, and live at liberty. In
+regard to the legitimate age, the women were to be admitted from ten
+till fifteen, and the men from twelve till eighteen.
+
+For the fabric and furniture of the abbey, Gargantua caused to be
+delivered out in ready money twenty-seven hundred thousand eight
+hundred and one-and-thirty of those long-wooled rams; and for every
+year until the whole work was completed he allotted threescore nine
+thousand gold crowns, and as many of the seven stars, to be charged
+all upon the receipt of the river Dive. For the foundation and
+maintenance thereof he settled in perpetuity three-and-twenty hundred
+threescore and nine thousand five hundred and fourteen rose nobles,
+taxes exempted from all in landed rents, and payable every year at the
+gate of the abbey; and for this gave them fair letters patent.
+
+The building was hexagonal, and in such a fashion that in every one of
+the six corners there was built a great round tower, sixty paces in
+diameter, and were all of a like form and bigness. Upon the north side
+ran the river Loire, on the bank whereof was situated the tower called
+Arctic. Going toward the east there was another called Calær, the next
+following Anatole, the next Mesembrine, the next Hesperia, and the
+last Criere. Between each two towers was the space of three hundred
+and twelve paces. The whole edifice was built in six stories,
+reckoning the cellars underground for one. The second was vaulted
+after the fashion of a basket-handle; the rest were coated with
+Flanders plaster, in the form of a lamp foot. It was roofed with fine
+slates of lead, carrying figures of baskets and animals; the ridge
+gilt, together with the gutters, which issued without the wall between
+the windows, painted diagonally in gold and blue down to the ground,
+where they ended in great canals, which carried away the water below
+the house into the river.
+
+This same building was a hundred times more sumptuous and magnificent
+than ever was Bonivet; for there were in it nine thousand three
+hundred and two-and-thirty chambers, every one whereof had a
+withdrawing-room, a closet, a wardrobe, a chapel, and a passage into a
+great hall. Between every tower, in the midst of the said body of
+building, there was a winding stair, whereof the steps were part of
+porphyry, which is a dark-red marble spotted with white, part of
+Numidian stone, and part of serpentine marble; each of those steps
+being two-and-twenty feet in length and three fingers thick, and the
+just number of twelve betwixt every landing-place. On every landing
+were two fair antique arcades where the light came in; and by those
+they went into a cabinet, made even with, and of the breadth of the
+said winding, and they mounted above the roof and ended in a pavilion.
+By this winding they entered on every side into a great hall, and from
+the halls into the chambers. From the Arctic tower unto the Criere
+were fair great libraries in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, French, Italian,
+and Spanish, respectively distributed on different stories, according
+to their languages. In the midst there was a wonderful winding stair,
+the entry whereof was without the house, in an arch six fathoms broad.
+It was made in such symmetry and largeness that six men-at-arms, lance
+on thigh, might ride abreast all up to the very top of all the palace.
+From the tower Anatole to the Mesembrine were fair great galleries,
+all painted with the ancient prowess, histories, and descriptions of
+the world. In the midst thereof there was likewise such another ascent
+and gate as we said there was on the river-side.
+
+In the middle of the lower court there was a stately fountain of fair
+alabaster. Upon the top thereof stood the three Graces, with horns of
+abundance, and did jet out the water at their breasts, mouth, ears,
+and eyes. The inside of the buildings in this lower court stood upon
+great pillars of Cassydonian stone, and porphyry in fair ancient
+arches. Within these were spacious galleries, long and large, adorned
+with curious pictures--the horns of bucks and unicorns; of the
+rhinoceros and the hippopotamus; the teeth and tusks of elephants, and
+other things well worth the beholding. The lodging of the ladies took
+up all from the tower Arctic unto the gate Mesembrine. The men possest
+the rest. Before the said lodging of the ladies, that they might have
+their recreation, between the two first towers, on the outside, were
+placed the tilt-yard, the hippodrome, the theater, the swimming-bath,
+with most admirable baths in three stages, well furnished with all
+necessary accommodation, and store of myrtle-water. By the river-side
+was the fair garden of pleasure, and in the midst of that a fair
+labyrinth. Between the two other towers were the tennis and fives
+courts. Toward the tower Criere stood the orchard full of all
+fruit-trees, set and ranged in a quincunx. At the end of that was the
+great park, abounding with all sort of game. Betwixt the third couple
+of towers were the butts for arquebus, crossbow, and arbalist. The
+stables were beyond the offices, and before them stood the falconry,
+managed by falconers very expert in the art; and it was yearly
+supplied by the Candians, Venetians, Sarmatians, with all sorts of
+excellent birds, eagles, gerfalcons, goshawks, falcons, sparrow-hawks,
+merlins, and other kinds of them, so gentle and perfectly well trained
+that, flying from the castle for their own disport, they would not
+fail to catch whatever they encountered. The venery was a little
+further off, drawing toward the park.
+
+All the halls, chambers, and cabinets were hung with tapestry of
+divers sorts, according to the seasons of the year. All the pavements
+were covered with green cloth. The beds were embroidered. In every
+back chamber there was a looking-glass of pure crystal, set in a frame
+of fine gold garnished with pearls, and of such greatness that it
+would represent to the full the whole person. At the going out of the
+halls belonging to the ladies' lodgings were the perfumers and
+hair-dressers, through whose hands the gallants passed when they were
+to visit the ladies. These did every morning furnish the ladies'
+chambers with rose-water, musk, and angelica; and to each of them gave
+a little smelling-bottle breathing the choicest aromatical scents.
+
+The ladies on the foundation of this order were appareled after their
+own pleasure and liking. But since, of their own free will, they were
+reformed in manner as followeth:
+
+They wore stockings of scarlet which reached just three inches above
+the knee, having the border beautified with embroideries and trimming.
+Their garters were of the color of their bracelets, and circled the
+knee both over and under. Their shoes and slippers were either of red,
+violet, or crimson velvet, cut _à barbe d'écrévisse_.
+
+Next to their smock they put on a fair corset of pure silk camblet;
+above that went the petticoat of white, red tawny, or gray taffeta.
+Above this was the _cotte_ in cloth of silver, with needlework either
+(according to the temperature and disposition of the weather) of
+satin, damask, velvet, orange, tawny, green, ash-colored, blue,
+yellow, crimson, cloth of gold, cloth of silver, or some other choice
+stuff, according to the day.
+
+Their gowns, correspondent to the season, were either of cloth of gold
+with silver edging, of red satin covered with gold purl, of taffeta,
+white, blue, black, or tawny, of silk serge, silk camblet, velvet,
+cloth of silver, silver tissue, cloth of gold, or figured satin with
+golden threads.
+
+In the summer, some days, instead of gowns, they wore fair mantles of
+the above-named stuff, or capes of violet velvet with edging of gold,
+or with knotted cordwork of gold embroidery, garnished with little
+Indian pearls. They always carried a fair plume of feathers, of the
+color of their muff, bravely adorned with spangles of gold. In the
+winter-time they had their taffeta gowns of all colors, as above
+named, and those lined with the rich furrings of wolves, weasels,
+Calabrian martlet, sables, and other costly furs. Their beads, rings,
+bracelets, and collars were of precious stones, such as carbuncles,
+rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emerald, turquoises, garnets, agates,
+beryls, and pearls.
+
+Their head-dressing varied with the season of the year. In winter it
+was of the French fashion; in the spring of the Spanish; in summer of
+the fashion of Tuscany, except only upon the holidays and Sundays, at
+which times they were accoutered in the French mode, because they
+accounted it more honorable, better befitting the modesty of a matron.
+
+The men were appareled after their fashion. Their stockings were of
+worsted or of serge, of white, black, or scarlet. Their breeches were
+of velvet, of the same color with their stockings, or very near,
+embroidered and cut according to their fancy. Their doublet was of
+cloth of gold, cloth of silver, velvet, satin, damask, or taffeta, of
+the same colors, cut embroidered, and trimmed up in the same manner.
+The points were of silk of the same colors, the tags were of gold
+enameled. Their coats and jerkins were of cloth of gold, cloth of
+silver, gold tissue, or velvet embroidered, as they thought fit. Their
+gowns were every whit as costly as those of the ladies. Their girdles
+were of silk, of the color of their doublets. Every one had a gallant
+sword by his side, the hilt and handle whereof were gilt, and the
+scabbard of velvet, of the color of his breeches, the end in gold, and
+goldsmith's work. The dagger of the same. Their caps were of black
+velvet, adorned with jewels and buttons of gold. Upon that they wore a
+white plume, most prettily and minion-like parted by so many rows of
+gold spangles, at the end whereof hung dangling fair rubies, emeralds,
+etc.
+
+But so great was the sympathy between the gallants and the ladies,
+that every day they were appareled in the same livery. And that they
+might not miss, there were certain gentlemen appointed to tell the
+youths every morning what colors the ladies would on that day wear;
+for all was done according to the pleasure of the ladies. In these so
+handsome clothes, and habiliments so rich, think not that either one
+or other of either sex did waste any time at all; for the masters of
+the wardrobes had all their raiments and apparel so ready for every
+morning, and the chamber-ladies were so well skilled, that in a trice
+they would be drest, and completely in their clothes from head to
+foot. And to have these accouterments with the more conveniency, there
+was about the wood of Thelema a row of houses half a league long, very
+neat and cleanly, wherein dwelt the goldsmiths, lapidaries,
+embroiderers, tailors, gold-drawers, velvet-weavers, tapestry-makers,
+and upholsterers, who wrought there every one in his own trade, and
+all for the aforesaid friars and nuns. They were furnished with matter
+and stuff from the hands of Lord Nausiclete, who every year brought
+them seven ships from the Perlas and Cannibal Islands, laden with
+ingots of gold, with raw silk, with pearls and precious stones. And if
+any pearls began to grow old, and lose somewhat of their natural
+whiteness and luster, those by their art they did renew by tendering
+them to cocks to be eaten, as they used to give casting unto hawks.
+
+All their life was spent not in laws, statutes, or rules, but
+according to their own free will and pleasure. They rose out of their
+beds when they thought good; they did eat, drink, labor, sleep, when
+they had a mind to it, and were disposed for it. None did awake them,
+none did constrain them to eat, drink, nor do any other thing; for so
+had Gargantua established it. In all their rule, and strictest tie of
+their order, there was but this one clause to be observed: _Fay ce que
+vouldras_.
+
+Because men that are free, well born, well bred, and conversant in
+honest companies, have naturally an instinct and spur that prompteth
+them unto virtuous actions and withdraws them from vice, which is
+called honor. Those same men, when by base subjection and constraint
+they are brought under and kept down, turn aside from that noble
+disposition by which they formerly were inclined to virtue, to shake
+off the bond of servitude; for it is agreeable with the nature of man
+to long after things forbidden.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN CALVIN
+
+ Born in France in 1509, died in Geneva in 1564; studied in
+ Paris and Orleans; became identified with the Reformation
+ about 1528; banished from Paris in 1533; published his
+ "Institutes," his most famous work, in Latin at Basel in
+ 1536, and in French in 1540; settled at Geneva in 1536;
+ banished from Geneva in 1538; returned to Geneva in 1541;
+ had a memorable controversy with Servetus in 1553; founded
+ the Academy of Geneva in 1559.
+
+
+
+
+OF FREEDOM FOR THE WILL[16]
+
+
+God has provided the soul of man with intellect, by which he might
+discern good from evil, just from unjust, and might know what to
+follow or to shun, Reason going before with her lamp; whence
+philosophers, in reference to her directing power have called [Greek:
+to hêgemonichon]. To this he has joined will, to which choice belongs.
+Man excelled in these noble endowments in his primitive condition,
+when reason, intelligence, prudence, and judgment not only sufficed
+for the government of his earthly life, but also enabled him to rise
+up to God and eternal happiness. Thereafter choice was added to direct
+the appetites and temper all the organic motions; the will being thus
+perfectly submissive to the authority of reason.
+
+[Footnote 16: From "The Institutes." Calvin's work was translated into
+English by Thomas Norton and published in 1561. An abridgment,
+translated by Christopher Fetherstone, was published in Edinburgh in
+1585, and another abridgment by H. Holland in London in 1596. Many
+other translations of Calvin's writings appeared in the sixteenth
+century. John Allen issued a version of the "Institutes" in 1830,
+which has been held in esteem.]
+
+In this upright state, man possest freedom of will, by which if he
+chose he was able to obtain eternal life.
+
+It were here unseasonable to introduce the question concerning the
+secret predestination of God, because we are not considering what
+might or might not happen, but what the nature of man truly was. Adam,
+therefore, might have stood if he chose, since it was only by his own
+will that he fell; but it was because his will was pliable in either
+direction, and he had not received constancy to persevere, that he so
+easily fell. Still he had a free choice of good and evil; and not only
+so, but in the mind and will there was the highest rectitude, and all
+the organic parts were duly framed to obedience, until man corrupted
+its good properties, and destroyed himself. Hence the great darkness
+of philosophers who have looked for a complete building in a ruin, and
+fit arrangement in disorder. The principle they set out with was, that
+man could not be a rational animal unless he had a free choice of good
+and evil. They also imagined that the distinction between virtue and
+vice was destroyed, if man did not of his own counsel arrange his
+life. So far well, had there been no change in man. This being unknown
+to them, it is not surprizing that they throw everything into
+confusion. But those who, while they profess to be the disciples of
+Christ, still seek for free-will in man, notwithstanding of his being
+lost and drowned in spiritual destruction, labor under manifold
+delusion, making a heterogeneous mixture of inspired doctrine and
+philosophical opinions, and so erring as to both.
+
+But it will be better to leave these things to their own place. At
+present it is necessary only to remember that man at his first
+creation was very different from all his posterity; who, deriving
+their origin from him after he was corrupted, received a hereditary
+taint. At first every part of the soul was formed to rectitude. There
+was soundness of mind and freedom of will to choose the good. If any
+one objects that it was placed, as it were, in a slippery position
+because its power was weak, I answer, that the degree conferred was
+sufficient to take away every excuse. For surely the Deity could not
+be tied down to this condition,--to make man such that he either could
+not or would not sin. Such a nature might have been more excellent;
+but to expostulate with God as if he had been bound to confer this
+nature on man, is more than unjust, seeing he had full right to
+determine how much or how little he would give. Why he did not sustain
+him by the virtue of perseverance is hidden in his counsel; it is ours
+to keep within the bounds of soberness. Man had received the power, if
+he had the will, but he had not the will which would have given the
+power; for this will would have been followed by perseverance. Still,
+after he had received so much, there is no excuse for his having
+spontaneously brought death upon himself. No necessity was laid upon
+God to give him more than that intermediate and even transient will,
+that out of man's fall he might extract materials for his own glory.
+
+
+
+
+JOACHIM DU BELLAY
+
+ Born about 1524, died in 1560; surnamed "The French Ovid"
+ and "The Apollo of the Pléiade"; noted as poet and prose
+ writer; a cousin of Cardinal du Bellay and for a time his
+ secretary; wrote forty-seven sonnets on the antiquities of
+ Rome; his most notable work in prose is his "Défense et
+ Illustration de la Langue Françoise."
+
+
+
+
+WHY OLD FRENCH WAS NOT AS RICH AS GREEK AND LATIN[17]
+
+
+If our language is not as copious or rich as the Greek or Latin, this
+must not be laid to their charge, assuming that our language is not
+capable in itself of being barren and sterile; but it should rather be
+attributed to the ignorance of our ancestors, who, having (as some one
+says, speaking of the ancient Romans) held good doing in greater
+estimation than good talking and preferred to leave to their posterity
+examples of virtue rather than precepts, have deprived themselves of
+the glory of their great deeds, and us of their imitation; and by the
+same means have left our tongue so poor and bare that it has need of
+ornament and (if we may be allowed the phrase) of borrowed plumage.
+
+[Footnote 17: From the "Défence et Illustration de la Langue
+Françoise." Translated for this collection by Eric Arthur Bell. Du
+Bellay belonged to a group of sixteenth-century writers known as the
+Pléiade, who took upon themselves the mission of reducing the French
+language, in its literary forms, to something comparable to Greek and
+Latin. Mr. Saintsbury says they "made modern French--made it, we may
+say, twice over"; by which he means that French, in their time, was
+revolutionized, and that, in the Romantic movement of 1830, Hugo and
+his associates were armed by the work of the Pléiade for their revolt
+against the restraints of rule and language that had been imposed by
+the eighteenth century.]
+
+But who is willing to admit that the Greek and Roman tongues have
+always possest that excellence which characterized them at the time of
+Homer, Demosthenes, Virgil, and Cicero? And if these authors were of
+the opinion that a little diligence and culture were incapable of
+producing greater fruit, why did they make such efforts to bring it to
+the pitch of perfection it is in to-day? I can say the same thing of
+our language, which is now beginning to bloom without bearing fruit,
+like a plant which has not yet flowered, waiting till it can produce
+all the fruit possible. This is certainly not the fault of nature who
+has rendered it more sterile than the others, but the fault of those
+who have tended it, and have not cultivated it sufficiently. Like a
+wild plant which grows in the desert, without ever being watered or
+pruned or protected by the trees and shrubs which give it shade, it
+fades and almost dies.
+
+If the ancient Romans had been so negligent of the culture of their
+language when first they began to develop it, it is certain that they
+could not have become so great in so short a time. But they, in the
+guise of good agriculturists, first of all transplanted it from a wild
+locality to a cultivated one, and then in order that it might bear
+fruit earlier and better, cut away several useless shoots and
+substituted exotic and domestic ones, mostly drawn from the Greek
+language, which have grafted so well on to the trunk that they appear
+no longer adopted but natural. Out of these have sprung, from the
+Latin tongue, flowers and colored fruits in great number and of much
+eloquence, all of which things, not so much from its own nature but
+artificially, every tongue is wont to produce. And if the Greeks and
+Romans, more diligent in the culture of their tongue than we are in
+ours, found an eloquence in their language only after much labor and
+industry, are we for this reason, even if our vernacular is not as
+rich as it might be, to condemn it as something vile and of little
+value?
+
+The time will come perhaps, and I hope it will be for the good of the
+French, when the language of this noble and powerful kingdom (unless
+with France the whole French language is to be buried),[18] which is
+already beginning to throw out its roots, will shoot out of the ground
+and rise to such a height and size that it will even emulate that of
+the Greeks and the Romans, producing like them, Homers, Demostheneses,
+Virgils, and Ciceros, in the same way that France has already produced
+her Pericles, Alcibiades, Themistocles, and Scipio.
+
+[Footnote 18: Du Bellay here refers to the unhappy political state of
+France during his short life of thirty-six years. He was born one year
+before the defeat of Francis I at Pavia. When twenty years old, Henry
+VIII in league with Charles V had invaded France. Fourteen years later
+the country was distracted by disastrous religious wars which led up
+to the massacre of St. Bartholomew a few years after his death.]
+
+
+
+
+MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
+
+ Born in France in 1583, died in 1592; educated at a college
+ in Bordeaux; studied law; attached to the court of Francis
+ II in 1559, and to the person of Henry III in 1571; traveled
+ in Germany, Italy and Switzerland in 1580; made mayor of
+ Bordeaux in 1581; published his "Essays" in 1580, the first
+ English translation, made by Florio, appearing in 1603.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A WORD TO HIS READERS[19]
+
+
+Reader, loe here a well-meaning Booke. It doth at the first entrance
+forewarne thee, that in contriving the same, I have proposed unto my
+selfe no other than a familiar and private end: I have no respect or
+consideration at all, either to thy service, or to my glory; my forces
+are not capable of any such desseigne. I have vowed the same to the
+particular commodity of my kinsfolks and friends: to the end, that
+losing me (which they are likely to do ere long) they may therein
+find some lineaments of my conditions and humors, and by that meanes
+reserve more whole, and more lively foster, the knowledge and
+acquaintance they have had of me. Had my intention beene to forestal
+and purchase the worlds opinion and favor, I would surely have adorned
+my selfe more quaintly, or kept a more grave and solemne march. I
+desire therein to be delineated in mine owne genuine, simple and
+ordinarie fashion, without contention, art or study; for it is my
+selfe I pourtray. My imperfections shall therein be read to the life,
+and my naturall forme discerned, so farre-forth as publike reverence
+hath permitted me. For if my fortune had beene to have lived among
+those nations, which yet are said to live under the sweet liberty of
+Natures first and uncorrupted lawes, I assure thee, I would most
+willingly have pourtrayed my selfe fully and naked. Thus, gentle
+Reader, my selfe am the groundworke of my booke: It is then no reason
+thou shouldest employ thy time about so frivolous and vaine a Subject.
+Therefore farewell.
+
+[Footnote 19: From the preface to the "Essays," as translated by John
+Florio. A copy of Florio's "Montaigne" is known to have been in the
+library of Shakespeare, one of the few extant autographs of the poet
+being in a copy of this translation now preserved in the library of
+the British Museum.
+
+Montaigne is usually linked with Rabelais as to his important place in
+the history of French prose. The two have come down to us very much as
+Chaucer has come down in English literature--as a "well undefiled."
+Montaigne secured in his own lifetime a popularity which he has never
+lost, if, indeed, it has not been increased.]
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE[20]
+
+
+There are some particular natures that are private and retired: my
+natural way is proper for communication, and apt to lay me open; I am
+all without and in sight, born for society and friendship. The
+solitude that I love myself and recommend to others, is chiefly no
+other than to withdraw my thoughts and affections into myself; to
+restrain and check, not my steps, but my own cares and desires,
+resigning all foreign solicitude, and mortally avoiding servitude and
+obligation, and not so much the crowd of men, as the crowd of
+business. Local solitude, to say the truth, rather gives me more room,
+and sets me more at large; I more readily throw myself upon the
+affairs of state and the world, when I am alone; at the Louvre, and in
+the bustle of the court, I fold myself within my own skin; the crowd
+thrusts me upon myself; and I never entertain myself so wantonly, with
+so much license, or so especially, as in places of respect and
+ceremonious prudence: our follies do not make me laugh, but our wisdom
+does. I am naturally no enemy to a court life; I have therein passed a
+good part of my own, and am of a humor cheerfully to frequent great
+company, provided it be by intervals and at my own time: but this
+softness of judgment whereof I speak, ties me perforce to solitude.
+Even at home, amidst a numerous family, and in a house sufficiently
+frequented, I see people enough, but rarely such with whom I delight
+to converse; and I there reserve both for myself and others an unusual
+liberty: there is in my house no such thing as ceremony, ushering, or
+waiting upon people down to the coach, and such other troublesome
+ceremonies as our courtesy enjoins (O servile and importunate custom!)
+Every one there governs himself according to his own method; let who
+will speak his thoughts, I sit mute, meditating and shut up in my
+closet, without any offense to my guests.
+
+[Footnote 20: From the Essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," in Book
+III, Chapter III; translated by Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.]
+
+The men, whose society and familiarity I covet, are those they call
+sincere and able men; and the image of these makes me disrelish the
+rest. It is, if rightly taken, the rarest of our forms, and a form
+that we chiefly owe to nature. The end of this commerce is simply
+privacy, frequentation and conference, the exercise of souls, without
+other fruit. In our discourse, all subjects are alike to me; let there
+be neither weight, nor depth, 'tis all one: there is yet grace and
+pertinency; all there is tinted with a mature and constant judgment,
+and mixt with goodness, freedom, gaiety, and friendship. 'Tis not only
+in talking of the affairs of kings and state, that our wits discover
+their force and beauty, but every whit as much in private conferences.
+I understand my men even by their silence and smiles; and better
+discover them, perhaps, at table, than in the council. Hippomachus
+said very well, "that he could know the good wrestlers by only seeing
+them walk in the street." If learning please to step into our talk,
+it shall not be rejected, not magisterial, imperious, and importunate,
+as it commonly is, but suffragan and docile itself; we there only seek
+to pass away our time; when we have a mind to be instructed and
+preached to, we will go seek this in its throne; please let it humble
+itself to us for the nonce; for, useful and profitable as it is, I
+imagine that, at need, we may manage well enough without it, and do
+our business without its assistance. A well-descended soul, and
+practised in the conversation of men, will of herself render herself
+sufficiently agreeable; art is nothing but the counterpart and
+register of what such souls produce.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+OF HIS OWN LIBRARY[21]
+
+
+It goes side by side with me in my whole course, and everywhere is
+assisting me: it comforts me in my old age and solitude; it eases me
+of a troublesome weight of idleness, and delivers me at all hours from
+company that I dislike: it blunts the point of griefs, if they are not
+extreme, and have not got an entire possession of my soul. To divert
+myself from a troublesome fancy, 'tis but to run to my books; they
+presently fix me to them and drive the other out of my thoughts; and
+do not mutiny at seeing that I have only recourse to them for want of
+other more real, natural, and lively commodities; they always receive
+me with the same kindness. He may well go afoot, they say, who leads
+his horse in his hand; and our James, King of Naples and Sicily, who,
+handsome, young and healthful, caused himself to be carried about on a
+barrow, extended upon a pitiful mattress in a poor robe of gray cloth,
+and a cap of the same, but attended withal by a royal train of
+litters, led horses of all sorts, gentlemen and officers, did yet
+herein represent a tender and unsteady authority: "The sick man is not
+to be pitied, who has his cure in his sleeve." In the experience and
+practise of this maxim, which is a very true one, consists all the
+benefit I reap from books; and yet I make as little use of them,
+almost, as those who know them not: I enjoy them as a miser does his
+money, in knowing that I may enjoy them when I please: my mind is
+satisfied with this right of possession. I never travel without books,
+either in peace or war; and yet sometimes I pass over several days,
+and sometimes months, without looking on them: I will read by and by,
+say I to myself, or to-morrow, or when I please; and in the interim,
+time steals away without any inconvenience. For it is not to be
+imagined to what degree I please myself and rest content in this
+consideration, that I have them by me to divert myself with them when
+I am disposed, and to call to mind what a refreshment they are to my
+life. 'Tis the best viaticum I have yet found out for this human
+journey, and I very much pity those men of understanding who are
+unprovided of it. I the rather accept of any other sort of diversion,
+how light soever, because this can never fail me.
+
+[Footnote 21: From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," Book III,
+Chapter III. The translation of Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.]
+
+When at home, I a little more frequent my library, whence I overlook
+at once all the concerns of my family. 'Tis situated at the entrance
+into my house, and I thence see under me my garden, court, and
+base-court, and almost all parts of the building. There I turn over
+now one book, and then another, on various subjects without method or
+design. One while I meditate, another I record and dictate, as I walk
+to and fro, such whimsies as these I present to you here. 'Tis in the
+third story of a tower, of which the ground room is my chapel, the
+second story a chamber with a withdrawing-room and closet, where I
+often lie, to be more retired; and above is a great wardrobe. This
+formerly was the most useless part of the house. I there pass away
+both most of the days of my life and most of the hours of those days.
+In the night I am never there. There is by the side of it a cabinet
+handsome enough, with a fireplace very commodiously contrived, and
+plenty of light: and were I not more afraid of the trouble than the
+expense--the trouble that frights me from all business, I could very
+easily adjoin on either side, and on the same floor, a gallery of an
+hundred paces long, and twelve broad, having found walls already
+raised for some other design, to the requisite height.
+
+Every place of retirement requires a walk: my thoughts sleep if I sit
+still; my fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it: and
+all those who study without a book are in the same condition. The
+figure of my study is round, and there is no more open wall than what
+is taken up by my table and my chair, so that the remaining parts of
+the circle present me a view of all my books at once, ranged upon five
+rows of shelves around about me. It has three noble and free
+prospects, and is sixteen paces in diameter I am not so continually
+there in winter; for my house is built upon an eminence, as its name
+imports, and no part of it is so much exposed to the wind and weather
+as this, which pleases me the better, as being of more difficult
+access and a little remote, as well upon the account of exercise, as
+also being there more retired from the crowd. 'Tis there that I am in
+my kingdom, and there I endeavor to make myself an absolute monarch,
+and to sequester this one corner from all society, conjugal, filial,
+and civil; elsewhere I have but verbal authority only, and of a
+confused essence. That man, in my opinion, is very miserable, who has
+not a home where to be by himself, where to entertain himself alone,
+or to conceal himself from others. Ambition sufficiently plagues her
+proselytes, by keeping them always in show, like the statue of a
+public square: "Magna servitus est magna fortuna." They can not so
+much as be private in the water-closet. I have thought nothing so
+severe in the austerity of life that our monks affect, as what I have
+observed in some of their communities; namely, by rule to have a
+perpetual society of place, and numerous persons present in every
+action whatever: and think it much more supportable to be always
+alone, than never to be so.
+
+If any one shall tell me that it is to undervalue the muses, to make
+use of them only for sport and to pass away the time, I shall tell
+him, that he does not know, so well as I, the value of the sport, the
+pleasure, and the pastime; I can hardly forbear to add that all other
+end is ridiculous. I live from hand to mouth, and, with reverence be
+it spoken, I only live for myself; there all my designs terminate. I
+studied, when young, for ostentation; since, to make myself a little
+wiser; and now for my diversion, but never for any profit. A vain and
+prodigal humor I had after this sort of furniture, not only for the
+supplying my own need, but, moreover, for ornament and outward show, I
+have since quite cured myself of.
+
+Books have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose them;
+but every good has its ill; 'tis a pleasure that is not pure and
+clean, no more than others: it has its inconveniences, and great ones
+too. The soul indeed is exercised therein; but the body, the care of
+which I must withal never neglect, remains in the mean time without
+action, and grows heavy and somber. I know no excess more prejudicial
+to me, nor more to be avoided in this my declining age.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THAT THE SOUL DISCHARGES HER PASSIONS UPON FALSE OBJECTS WHERE TRUE
+ONES ARE WANTING[22]
+
+
+A gentleman of my country, who was very often tormented with the gout,
+being importun'd by his physicians totally to reclaim his appetite
+from all manner of salt meats, was wont presently to reply that he
+must needs have something to quarrel with in the extremity of his
+fits, and that he fancy'd that railing at and cursing one while the
+Bologna sausages, and another the dry'd tongues and the hams, was some
+mitigation to his pain. And in good earnest, as the arm when it is
+advanced to strike, if it fail of meeting with that upon which it was
+design'd to discharge the blow, and spends itself in vain, does offend
+the striker himself; and as also, that to make a pleasant prospect the
+sight should not be lost and dilated in a vast extent of empty air,
+but have some bounds to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable
+distance:
+
+ "As winds do lose their strength, unless withstood
+ By some dark grove of strong opposing wood."
+
+[Footnote 22: The translation of Cotton before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.]
+
+So it appears that the soul, being transported and discompos'd, turns
+its violence upon itself, if not supply'd with something to oppose it,
+and therefore always requires an enemy as an object on which to
+discharge its fury and resentment. Plutarch says very well of those
+who are delighted with little dogs and monkeys, that the amorous part
+which is in us, for want of a legitimate object, rather than lie idle,
+does after that manner forge, and create one frivolous and false; as
+we see that the soul in the exercise of its passions inclines rather
+to deceive itself, by creating a false and fantastical subject, even
+contrary to its own relief, than not to have something to work upon.
+And after this manner brute beasts direct their fury to fall upon the
+stone or weapon that has hurt them, and with their teeth even execute
+their revenge upon themselves, for the injury they have receiv'd from
+another.
+
+ So the fierce bear, made fiercer by the smart
+ Of the bold Lybian's mortal guided dart,
+ Turns round upon the wound, and the tough spear
+ Contorted o'er her breast does flying bear
+ Down....
+
+--_Claudian_.
+
+What causes of the misadventures that befall us do we not invent? What
+is it that we do not lay the fault to right or wrong, that we may have
+something to quarrel with? Those beautiful tresses, young lady, you
+may so liberally tear off, are no way guilty, nor is it the whiteness
+of those delicate breasts you so unmercifully beat, that with an
+unlucky bullet has slain your beloved brother: quarrel with something
+else. Livy, Dec. 3, l. 5., speaking of the Roman army in Spain, says
+that for the loss of two brothers, who were both great captains,
+"_Flere omnes repente et offensare capita_," that they all wept, and
+tore their hair. 'Tis the common practise of affliction. And the
+philosopher Bion said pleasantly of the king, who by handfuls pull'd
+his hair off his head for sorrow, "Does this man think that baldness
+is a remedy for grief?" Who has not seen peevish gamesters worry the
+cards with their teeth, and swallow whole bales of dice in revenge for
+the loss of their money? Xerxes whipt the sea, and wrote a challenge
+to Mount Athos; Cyrus employ'd a whole army several days at work, to
+revenge himself of the river Gnidus, for the fright it had put him
+into in passing over; and Caligula demolish'd a very beautiful palace
+for the pleasure his mother had once enjoy'd there. I remember there
+was a story current, when I was a boy, that one of our neighboring
+kings, having receiv'd a blow from the hand of God, swore he would be
+reveng'd, and in order to it, made proclamation that for ten years to
+come no one should pray to him, or so much as mention him throughout
+his dominions; by which we are not so much to take measure of the
+folly, as the vain-glory of the nation of which this tale was told.
+They are vices that, indeed, always go together; but such actions as
+these have in them more of presumption than want of wit. Augustus
+Cæsar, having been tost with a tempest at sea, fell to defying
+Neptune, and in the pomp of the Circensian games, to be reveng'd,
+depos'd his statue from the place it had amongst the other deities.
+Wherein he was less excusable than the former, and less than he was
+afterward, when having lost a battle under Quintilius Varus in
+Germany, in rage and despair he went running his head against the
+walls, and crying out, O Varus! give me my men again! for this exceeds
+all folly, for as much as impiety is joined with it, invading God
+himself, or at least Fortune, as if she had ears that were subject to
+our batteries; like the Thracians, who, when it thunders, or lightens,
+fall to shooting against heaven with Titanian madness, as if by
+flights of arrows they intended to reduce God Almighty to reason. Tho
+the ancient poet in Plutarch tells us,
+
+ "We must not quarrel heaven in our affairs."
+
+But we can never enough decry nor sufficiently condemn the senseless
+and ridiculous sallies of our unruly passions.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THAT MEN ARE NOT TO JUDGE OF OUR HAPPINESS TILL AFTER DEATH[23]
+
+
+Every one is acquainted with the story of King Croesus to this
+purpose, who being taken prisoner by Cyrus, and by him condemn'd to
+die, as he was going to execution, cry'd out, "O Solon, Solon!" which
+being presently reported to Cyrus, and he sending to inquire what it
+meant, Croesus gave him to understand that he now found the
+advertisement Solon had formerly given him true to his cost, which
+was, "That men, however fortune may smile upon them, could never be
+said to be happy, till they had been seen to pass over the last day
+of their lives, by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of human
+things, which upon very light and trivial occasions are subject to be
+totally chang'd into a quite contrary condition."
+
+[Footnote 23: The translation of Cotton, before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.]
+
+And therefore it was, that Agesilaus made answer to one that was
+saying, "What a happy young man the King of Persia was to come so
+young to so mighty a kingdom." "'Tis true [said he], but neither was
+Priam unhappy at his years." In a short time, of kings of Macedon,
+successors to that mighty Alexander, were made joyners and scriveners
+at Rome; of a tyrant of Sicily, a pedant at Corinth; of a conqueror of
+one-half of the world, and general of so many armies, a miserable
+suppliant to the rascally officers of a king of Egypt. So much the
+prolongation of five or six months of life cost the great and noble
+Pompey, and no longer since than our fathers' days, Ludovico Sforza,
+the tenth duke of Milan, whom all Italy had so long truckled under,
+was seen to die a wretched prisoner at Loches, but not till he had
+lived ten years in captivity, which was the worst part of his fortune.
+The fairest of all queens (Mary, Queen of Scots), widow to the
+greatest king in Europe,[24] did she not come to die by the hand of an
+executioner? Unworthy and barbarous cruelty! and a thousand more
+examples there are of the same kind; for it seems that as storms and
+tempests have a malice to the proud and overtow'ring heights of our
+lofty buildings, there are also spirits above that are envious of the
+grandeurs here below.
+
+[Footnote 24: Francis II of France, to whom she was married in 1558
+and who died two years afterward.]
+
+ _Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quædam
+ Obterit, et pulchros fasces, sævasque secures
+ Proculcare ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur._
+
+--_Lucret._, l. 5.
+
+And it should seem also that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to
+surprize the last hour of our lives, to show the power she has in a
+moment to overthrow what she was so many years in building, making us
+cry out with Laborius, "_Nimirum hac die una plus vixi mihi quam
+vivendum fuit._"--Macrob., l. 2., c. 2. "I have liv'd longer by this
+one day than I ought to have done." And in this sense, this good
+advice of Solon may reasonably be taken; but he being a philosopher,
+with which sort of men the favors and disgraces of fortune stand for
+nothing, either to the making a man happy or unhappy, and with whom
+grandeurs and powers, accidents of quality, are upon the matter
+indifferent: I am apt to think that he had some further aim, and that
+his meaning was that the very felicity of life itself, which depends
+upon the tranquillity and contentment of a well-descended spirit, and
+the resolution and assurance of a well-order'd soul, ought never to be
+attributed to any man, till he has first been seen to play the last,
+and doubtless the hardest act of his part, because there may be
+disguise and dissimulation in all the rest, where these fine
+philosophical discourses are only put on; and where accidents do not
+touch us to the quick, they give us leisure to maintain the same sober
+gravity; but in this last scene of death, there is no more
+counterfeiting; we must speak plain, and must discover what there is
+of pure and clean in the bottom.
+
+ _Nam veræ voces tum demum pectore ab imo
+ Ejiciuntur, et eripitur persona manet res._
+
+--_Lucret._, l. 3.
+
+ "Then that at last truth issues from the heart.
+ The vizor's gone, we act our own true part."
+
+Wherefore at this last all the other actions of our life ought to be
+try'd and sifted. 'Tis the master-day, 'tis the day that is judge of
+all the rest, 'tis the day (says one of the ancients) that ought to
+judge of all my foregoing years. To death do I refer the essay of the
+fruit of all my studies. We shall then see whether my discourses came
+only from my mouth or from my heart. I have seen many by their death
+give a good or an ill repute to their whole life. Scipio, the
+father-in-law of Pompey the Great, in dying well, wip'd away the ill
+opinion that till then every one had conceived of him. Epaminondas
+being ask'd which of the three he had in the greatest esteem,
+Chabrias, Iphicrates, or himself; "You must first see us die (said he)
+before that question can be resolv'd": and, in truth, he would
+infinitely wrong that great man, who would weigh him without the honor
+and grandeur of his end.
+
+God Almightly had order'd all things as it has best pleased Him; but I
+have in my time seen three of the most execrable persons that ever I
+knew in all manners of abominable living, and the most infamous to
+boot, who all dy'd a very regular death, and in all circumstances
+compos'd even to perfection. There are brave, and fortunate deaths. I
+have seen death cut the thread of the progress of a prodigious
+advancement, and in the height and flower of its increase of a certain
+person, with so glorious an end, that in my opinion his ambitious and
+generous designs had nothing in them so high and great as their
+interruption; and he arrived without completing his course, at the
+place to which his ambition pretended with greater glory than he could
+himself either hope or desire, and anticipated by his fall the name
+and power to which he aspir'd, by perfecting his career. In the
+judgment I make of another man's life, I always observe how he carried
+himself at his death; and the principal concern I have for my own is
+that I may die handsomely; that is, patiently and without noise.
+
+
+
+
+RENÉ DESCARTES
+
+ Born in Touraine in 1596, died in Stockholm in 1650; founder
+ of modern general philosophy; educated at a Jesuit college
+ in France; lived in Paris in 1613-18; at the siege of La
+ Rochelle in 1628; in retirement in Holland in 1629-49;
+ defending his philosophical ideas; his first famous work,
+ "Discours de la Methode," published in Leyden in 1637;
+ published "Meditations of Philosophy" in 1641; a treatise on
+ the passion of love in 1649; other works published after his
+ death; famous as a mathematician as well as philosopher, his
+ geometry being still standard in Europe.
+
+
+
+
+OF MATERIAL THINGS AND OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD[25]
+
+
+Several questions remain for consideration respecting the attributes
+of God and my own nature or mind. I will, however, on some other
+occasion perhaps resume the investigation of these. Meanwhile, as I
+have discovered what must be done and what avoided to arrive at the
+knowledge of truth, what I have chiefly to do is to essay to emerge
+from the state of doubt in which I have for some time been, and to
+discover whether anything can be known with certainty regarding
+material objects. But before considering whether such objects as I
+conceive exist without me, I must examine their ideas in so far as
+these are to be found in my consciousness, and discover which of them
+are distinct and which confused.
+
+[Footnote 25: From the "Meditations," translated by John Veitch.]
+
+In the first place, I distinctly imagine that quantity which the
+philosophers commonly call continuous, or the extension in length,
+breadth, and depth that is in this quantity, or rather in the object
+to which it is attributed. Further, I can enumerate in it many diverse
+parts, and attribute to each of these all sorts of sizes, figures,
+situations, and local motions; and, in fine, I can assign to each of
+these motions all degrees of duration. And I not only distinctly know
+these things when I thus consider them in general; but besides, by a
+little attention, I discover innumerable particulars respecting
+figures, numbers, motion, and the like, which are so evidently true,
+and so accordant with my nature, that when I now discover them I do
+not so much appear to learn anything new as to call to remembrance
+what I before knew, or for the first time to remark what was before in
+my mind, but to which I had not hitherto directed my attention. And
+what I here find of most importance is, that I discover in my mind
+innumerable ideas of certain objects, which can not be esteemed pure
+negations, altho perhaps they possess no reality beyond my thought,
+and which are not framed by me, tho it may be in my power to think, or
+not to think them, but possess true and immutable natures of their
+own.
+
+As, for example, when I imagine a triangle, altho there is not perhaps
+and never was in any place in the universe apart from my thought one
+such figure, it remains true, nevertheless, that this figure possesses
+a certain determinate nature, form, or essence, which is immutable and
+eternal, and not framed by me, nor in any degree dependent on my
+thought; as appears from the circumstance, that diverse properties of
+the triangle may be demonstrated, viz., that its three angles are
+equal to two right, that its greatest side is subtended by its
+greatest angle, and the like, which, whether I will or not, I now
+clearly discern to belong to it, altho before I did not at all think
+of them, when, for the first time, I imagined a triangle, and which
+accordingly can not be said to have been invented by me.
+
+Nor is it a valid objection to allege that perhaps this idea of a
+triangle came into my mind by the medium of the senses, through my
+having seen bodies of a triangular figure; for I am able to form in
+thought an innumerable variety of figures with regard to which it can
+not be supposed that they were ever objects of sense, and I can
+nevertheless demonstrate diverse properties of their nature no less
+than of the triangle, all of which are assuredly true since I clearly
+conceive them: and they are therefore something, and not mere
+negations; for it is highly evident that all that is true is something
+(truth being identical with existence); and I have already fully shown
+the truth of the principle, that whatever is clearly and distinctly
+known is true. And altho this had not been demonstrated, yet the
+nature of my mind is such as to compel me to assent to what I clearly
+conceive while I so conceive it; and I recollect that even when I
+still strongly adhered to the objects of sense, I reckoned among the
+number of the most certain truths those I clearly conceived relating
+to figures, numbers, and other matters that pertain to arithmetic and
+geometry, and in general to the pure mathematics.
+
+But now if because I can draw from my thought the idea of an object it
+follows that all I clearly and distinctly apprehend to pertain to this
+object does in truth belong to it, may I not from this derive an
+argument for the existence of God? It is certain that I no less find
+the idea of a God in my consciousness, that is, the idea of a being
+supremely perfect, than that of any figure or number whatever: and I
+know with not less clearness and distinctness that an (actual and
+eternal) existence pertains to his nature than that all which is
+demonstrable of any figure or number really belongs to the nature of
+that figure or number; and, therefore, altho all the conclusions of
+the preceding "Meditations" were false, the existence of God would
+pass with me for a truth at least as certain as I ever judged any
+truth of mathematics to be, altho indeed such a doctrine may at first
+sight appear to contain more sophistry than truth. For, as I have been
+accustomed in every other matter to distinguish between existence and
+essence, I easily believe that the existence can be separated from the
+essence of God, and that thus God may be conceived as not actually
+existing. But, nevertheless, when I think of it more attentively, it
+appears that the existence can no more be separated from the essence
+of God than the idea of a mountain from that of a valley, or the
+equality of its three angles to two right angles, from the essence of
+a (rectilineal) triangle; so that it is not less impossible to
+conceive a God, that is, a being supremely perfect, to whom existence
+is wanting, or who is devoid of a certain perfection, than to conceive
+a mountain without a valley.
+
+But tho, in truth, I can not conceive a God unless as existing, any
+more than I can a mountain without a valley, yet, just as it does not
+follow that there is any mountain in the world merely because I
+conceive a mountain with a valley, so likewise, tho I conceive God as
+existing, it does not seem to follow on that account that God exists;
+for my thought imposes no necessity on things; and as I may imagine a
+winged horse, tho there be none such, so I could perhaps attribute
+existence to God, tho no God existed. But the cases are not analogous,
+and a fallacy lurks under the semblance of this objection: for because
+I can not conceive a mountain without a valley, it does not follow
+that there is any mountain or valley in existence, but simply that the
+mountain or valley, whether they do or do not exist, are inseparable
+from each other; whereas, on the other hand, because I can not
+conceive God unless as existing, it follows that existence is
+inseparable from Him, and therefore that He really exists: not that
+this is brought about by my thought, or that it imposes any necessity
+on things, but, on the contrary, the necessity which lies in the thing
+itself, that is, the necessity of the existence of God, determines me
+to think in this way: for it is not in my power to conceive a God
+without existence, that is, a being supremely perfect, and yet devoid
+of an absolute perfection, as I am free to imagine a horse with or
+without wings.
+
+
+
+
+DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
+
+ Born in 1613, died in 1680; a duke and prince of distinction
+ in his own day, but now known through his "Maxims,"
+ "Memoirs" and "Letters"; his "Maxims" first issued
+ anonymously in 1665; a sixth edition, published in 1693,
+ contains fifty additional maxims; his Letters not published
+ until 1818.
+
+
+
+
+A SELECTION FROM THE "MAXIMS"[26]
+
+
+The contempt of riches in philosophers was only a hidden desire to
+avenge their merit upon the injustice of fortune, by despising the
+very goods of which fortune had deprived them; it was a secret to
+guard themselves against the degradation of poverty; it was a back way
+by which to arrive at that distinction which they could not gain by
+riches.
+
+[Footnote 26: From the translation by J. W. Willis Bund and J. Hain
+Friswell. At least eight English translations of La Rochefoucauld had
+appeared before 1870--including the years 1689, 1694, 1706, 1749, 1799
+and 1815. Besides these, Swedish, Spanish and Italian translations
+have been made. The first English version (1689), appears to have been
+made by Mrs. Aphra Behn, the barber's daughter, upon whom has been
+conferred the distinction of being "the first female writer who lived
+by her pen in England." One of the later translations is by A. S.
+Bolton. The translation by Messrs. Bund and Friswell includes fifty
+additional maxims attributed to La Rochefoucauld.]
+
+Perfect valor is to do without witnesses what one would do before all
+the world.
+
+As it is the mark of great minds to say many things in a few words,
+so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.
+
+Who lives without folly is not so wise as he thinks.
+
+There is no disguise which can long hide love where it exists, nor
+feign it where it does not.
+
+The gratitude of most men is but a secret desire of receiving greater
+benefits.
+
+Almost all the world takes pleasure in paying small debts; many people
+show gratitude for trifling, but there is hardly one who does not show
+ingratitude for great favors.
+
+Nothing is rarer than true good nature; those who think they have it
+are generally only pliant or weak.
+
+There is no less eloquence in the voice, in the eyes and in the air of
+a speaker than in his choice of words.
+
+True eloquence consists in saying all that should be, not all that
+could be said.
+
+There are people whose faults become them, others whose very virtues
+disgrace them.
+
+We are never so happy or so unhappy as we suppose.
+
+Our enemies come nearer the truth in the opinions they form of us than
+we do in our opinion of ourselves.
+
+Most people judge men only by success or by fortune.
+
+Love of glory, fear of shame, greed of fortune, the desire to make
+life agreeable and comfortable, and the wish to depreciate others are
+often causes of that bravery so vaunted among men.
+
+The fame of great men ought always to be estimated by the means used
+to acquire it.
+
+If we never flattered ourselves the flattery of others would not hurt
+us.
+
+When great men permit themselves to be cast down by the continuance of
+misfortune, they show us that they were only sustained by ambition,
+and not by their mind; so that _plus_ a great vanity, heroes are made
+like other men.
+
+We may forgive those who bore us, we can not forgive those whom we
+bore.
+
+To praise good actions heartily is in some measure to take part in
+them.
+
+There is a kind of greatness which does not depend upon fortune: it is
+a certain manner that distinguishes us, and which seems to destine us
+for great things: it is the value we insensibly set upon ourselves; it
+is by this quality that we gain the deference of other men, and it is
+this which commonly raises us more above them than birth, rank, or
+even merit itself.
+
+The cause why the majority of women are so little given to friendship
+is, that it is insipid after having felt love.
+
+Women can not be completely severe unless they hate.
+
+The praise we give to new comers into the world arises from the envy
+we bear to those who are established.
+
+Little minds are too much wounded by little things; great minds see
+all and are not even hurt.
+
+Most young people think they are natural when they are only boorish
+and rude.
+
+To establish ourselves in the world we do everything to appear as if
+we were established.
+
+Why we hate with so much bitterness those who deceive us is because
+they think themselves more clever than we are.
+
+Too great a hurry to discharge an obligation is a kind of ingratitude.
+
+The moderation of those who are happy arises from the calm which good
+fortune bestows upon their temper.
+
+Pride is much the same in all men; the only difference is the method
+and manner of showing it.
+
+The constancy of the wise is only the talent of concealing the
+agitation of their hearts.
+
+Whatever difference there appears in our fortunes, there is
+nevertheless a certain compensation of good and evil which renders
+them equal.
+
+What we term virtue is often but a mass of various actions and divers
+interests, which fortune, or our own industry, manage to arrange; and
+it is not always from valor or from chastity that men are brave, and
+women chaste.
+
+Most men expose themselves in battle enough to save their honor, few
+wish to do so more than sufficiently, or than is necessary to make the
+design for which they expose themselves succeed.
+
+If we never flattered ourselves we should have but scant pleasure.
+
+Sincerity is an openness of heart; we find it in very few people; what
+we usually see is only an artful dissimulation to win the confidence
+of others.
+
+We may find women who have never indulged in an intrigue, but it is
+rare to find those who have intrigued but once.
+
+Every one blames his memory, no one blames his judgment.
+
+In the intercourse of life, we please more by our faults than by our
+good qualities.
+
+We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our friends when they
+enable us to prove our tenderness for them.
+
+Virtue in woman is often the love of reputation and repose.
+
+He is a truly good man who desires always to bear the inspection of
+good men.
+
+We frequently do good to enable us with impunity to do evil.
+
+Every one praises his heart, none dare praise their understanding.
+
+He is really wise who is nettled at nothing.
+
+Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.[27]
+
+In the adversity of our best friends we always find something which is
+not wholly displeasing to us.[28]
+
+[Footnote 27: A maxim similar to this has been found in the writings
+of other men. Thus Massillon, in one of his sermons, said, "Vice pays
+homage to virtue in doing honor to her appearance"; and Junius,
+writing to the Duke of Grafton, said, "You have done as much mischief
+to the community as Machiavel, if Machiavel had not known that an
+appearance of morals and religion are useful in society." Both,
+however, lived in a period subsequent to that in which La
+Rochefoucauld wrote.]
+
+[Footnote 28: This maxim, which more than any other has caused La
+Rochefoucauld to be criticized severely as a cynic, if not a
+misanthrope, appeared only in the first two editions of the book. In
+the others, published in the author's lifetime, it was supprest. In
+defense of the author, it has been maintained that what he meant by
+the saying was that the pleasure derived from a friend's misfortunes
+has its origin in the opportunity thus afforded to give him help. The
+reader should compare this saying with another that is included in
+these selections, "We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our
+friends when they enable us to prove our tenderness for them."]
+
+The confidence we have in ourselves arises in a great measure from
+that that we have in others.
+
+Women for the most part surrender themselves more from weakness than
+from passion. Whence it is that bold and pushing men succeed better
+than others, altho they are not so lovable.
+
+The great ones of the earth can neither command health of body nor
+repose of mind, and they buy always at too dear a price the good they
+can acquire.
+
+Few things are needed to make a wise man happy; nothing can make a
+fool content; that is why most men are miserable.
+
+The harm that others do us is often less than that we do ourselves.
+
+Magnanimity is a noble effort of pride which makes a man master of
+himself, to make him master of all things.
+
+
+
+
+BLAISE PASCAL
+
+ Born in France in 1623, died in 1662; educated in Paris;
+ became celebrated at seventeen for a work on conic sections;
+ became connected with the monastery at Port Royal, whose
+ doctrines he defended against the Jesuits; published
+ "Entretien sur Epictéte et Montaigne" in 1655; wrote his
+ "Provincial Letters" in 1656-57; in his last days engaged on
+ an "Apologie de la Religion Catholique" which, uncompleted,
+ was published in 1670 as his "Pensées."
+
+
+
+
+OF THE PREVALENCE OF SELF-LOVE[29]
+
+
+Self is hateful. You, Milton, conceal self, but do not thereby destroy
+it; therefore you are still hateful. Not so, for in acting as we do,
+to oblige everybody, we give no reason for hating us. True, if we only
+hated in self the vexation which it causes us. But if I hate it
+because it is unjust, and because it makes itself the center of all, I
+shall always hate it.
+
+[Footnote 29: From the "Thoughts." Many translations have been made of
+Pascal's "Thoughts"--one in 1680 by J. Walker, one in 1704 by Basil
+Kennet, one in 1825 by Edward Craig. A more modern one is by C. Kegan
+Paul, the London publisher, who was also a man of letters. Early
+translations from the older French, Italian and other Continental
+writers have frequently come down to us without mention of
+translators' names on title-pages or in the prefatory matter.]
+
+In one word, Self has two qualities: it is unjust in its essence,
+because it makes itself the center of all; it is inconvenient to
+others, in that it would bring them into subjection, for each "I" is
+the enemy, and would fain be the tyrant of all others. You take away
+the inconvenience, but not the injustice, and thus you do not render
+it lovable to those who hate injustice; you render it lovable only to
+the unjust, who find in it an enemy no longer. Thus you remain unjust
+and can please none but the unjust.
+
+OF SELF-LOVE.--The nature of self-love and of this human "I" is to
+love self only, and consider self only. But what can it do? It can not
+prevent the object it loves from being full of faults and miseries;
+man would fain be great and sees that he is little; would fain be
+happy, and sees that he is miserable; would fain be perfect, and sees
+that he is full of imperfections; would fain be the object of the love
+and esteem of men, and sees that his faults merit only their aversion
+and contempt. The embarrassment wherein he finds himself produces in
+him the most unjust and criminal passion imaginable. For he conceives
+a mortal hatred against that truth which blames him and convinces him
+of his faults. Desiring to annihilate it, yet unable to destroy it in
+its essence, he destroys it as much as he can in his own knowledge,
+and in that of others; that is to say, he devotes all his care to the
+concealment of his faults, both from others and from himself, and he
+can neither bear that others should show them to him, nor that they
+should see them.
+
+It is no doubt an evil to be full of faults, but it is a greater evil
+to be full of them, yet unwilling to recognize them, because that is
+to add the further fault of a voluntary illusion. We do not like
+others to deceive us, we do not think it just in them to require more
+esteem from us than they deserve; it is therefore unjust that we
+should deceive them, desiring more esteem from them than we deserve.
+
+Thus if they discover no more imperfections and vices in us than we
+really have, it is plain they do us no wrong, since it is not they who
+cause them; but rather they who do us a service, since they help us to
+deliver ourselves from an evil, the ignorance of these imperfections.
+We ought not to be troubled that they know our faults and despise us,
+since it is but just they should know us as we are, and despise us if
+we are despicable.
+
+Such are the sentiments which would arise in a heart full of equity
+and justice. What should we say then of our own heart, finding in it a
+wholly contrary disposition? For is it not true that we hate truth,
+and those who tell it us, and that we would wish them to have an
+erroneously favorable opinion of us, and to esteem us other than
+indeed we are?
+
+One proof of this fills me with dismay. The Catholic religion does not
+oblige us to tell out our sins indiscriminately to all; it allows us
+to remain hidden from men in general; but she excepts one alone, to
+whom she commands us to open the very depths of our hearts, and to
+show ourselves to him as we are. There is but this one man in the
+world whom she orders us to undeceive; she binds him to an inviolable
+secrecy, so that this knowledge is to him as tho it were not. We can
+imagine nothing more charitable and more tender. Yet such is the
+corruption of man, that he finds even this law harsh, and it is one of
+the main reasons which has set a large portion of Europe in revolt
+against the Church.
+
+How unjust and unreasonable is the human heart which finds it hard to
+be obliged to do in regard to one man what in some degree it were just
+to do to all men. For is it just that we should deceive them?
+
+There are different degrees in this dislike to the truth, but it may
+be said that all have it in some degree, for it is inseparable from
+self-love. This false delicacy causes those who must needs reprove
+others to choose so many windings and modifications in order to avoid
+shocking them. They must needs lessen our faults, seem to excuse them,
+mix praises with their blame, give evidences of affection and esteem.
+Yet this medicine is bitter to self-love, which takes as little as it
+can, always with disgust, often with a secret anger.
+
+Hence it happens that if any desire our love, they avoid doing us a
+service which they know to be disagreeable; they treat us as we would
+wish to be treated: we hate the truth, and they hide it from us; we
+wish to be flattered, they flatter us; we love to be deceived, they
+deceive us.
+
+Thus each degree of good fortune which raises us in the world removes
+us further from truth, because we fear most to wound those whose
+affection is most useful, and whose dislike is most dangerous. A
+prince may be the byword of all Europe, yet he alone know nothing of
+it. I am not surprized; to speak the truth is useful to whom it is
+spoken, but disadvantageous to those who speak it, since it makes them
+hated. Now those who live with princes love their own interests more
+than that of the prince they serve, and thus they take care not to
+benefit him so as to do themselves a disservice.
+
+This misfortune is, no doubt, greater and more common in the higher
+classes, but lesser men are not exempt from it, since there is always
+an interest in making men love us. Thus human life is but a perpetual
+illusion, an interchange of deceit and flattery. No one speaks of us
+in our presence as in our absence. The society of men is founded on
+this universal deceit; few friendships would last if every man knew
+what his friend said of him behind his back, tho he then spoke in
+sincerity and without passion.
+
+Man is, then, only disguise, falsehood, and hypocrisy, both in himself
+and with regard to others. He will not be told the truth; he avoids
+telling it to others; and all these tendencies, so far removed from
+justice and reason, have their natural roots in his heart.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ
+
+ Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696; married in 1644 to the
+ Marquis de Sévigné, who was killed in a duel in 1651; lived
+ late in life in Brittany; wrote to her married daughter,
+ Madame de Grigman, the famous letters from which has
+ proceeded her fame.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GREAT NEWS FROM PARIS[30]
+
+
+I am going to tell you a thing, the most astonishing, the most
+surprizing, the most marvelous, the most miraculous, the most
+magnificent, the most confounding, the most unheard-of, the most
+singular, the most extraordinary, the most incredible, the most
+unforeseen, the greatest, the least, the rarest, the most common, the
+most public, the most private till to-day, the most brilliant, the
+most inevitable; in short, a thing of which there is but one example
+in past ages, and that not an exact one either; a thing that we can
+not believe at Paris; how, then, will it gain credence at Lyons? a
+thing which makes everybody cry, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" a thing
+which causes the greatest joy to Madame de Rohan and Madame de
+Hauterive; a thing, in fine, which is to happen on Sunday next, when
+those who are present will doubt the evidence of their senses; a thing
+which, tho it is to be done on Sunday, yet perhaps will not be
+finished on Monday.
+
+[Footnote 30: From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670. George
+Saintsbury has described Madame de Sévigné as "the most charming of
+all letter-writers in all languages." Translations of these letters
+into English were made in 1732, 1745, 1764, and other years, including
+a version by Mackie in 1802.]
+
+I can not bring myself to tell you; guess what it is. I give you three
+times to do it in. What, not a word to throw at a dog? Well, then, I
+find I must tell you. Monsieur de Lauzun is to be married next Sunday
+at the Louvre, to--pray guess to whom! I give you four times to do it
+in,--I give you six,--I give you a hundred. Says Madame de Coulanges:
+"It is really very hard to guess; perhaps it is Madame de la
+Vallière."
+
+Indeed madame, it is not. "It is Mademoiselle de Retz, then." No, nor she
+either; you are extremely provincial. "Lord bless me," say you, "what
+stupid wretches we are! it is Mademoiselle de Colbert all the while." Nay,
+now you are still further from the mark. "Why, then, it must certainly be
+Mademoiselle de Crequy." You have it not yet. Well, I find I must tell you
+at last. He is to be married next Sunday at the Louvre, with the King's
+leave, to Mademoiselle--Mademoiselle de--Mademoiselle--guess, pray guess
+her name; he is to be married to Mademoiselle, the great Mademoiselle;
+Mademoiselle, daughter of the late Monsieur; Mademoiselle, granddaughter of
+Henry IV; Mademoiselle d'Eu, Mademoiselle de Dombes, Mademoiselle de
+Montpensier, Mademoiselle d'Orleans, Mademoiselle, the King's
+cousin-german--Mademoiselle, destined to the throne--Mademoiselle, the only
+match in France that was worthy of Monsieur.
+
+What glorious matter for talk! If you should burst forth like a
+bedlamite, say we have told you a lie, that it is false, that we are
+making a jest of you, and that a pretty jest it is, without wit or
+invention; in short, if you abuse us, we shall think you are quite in
+the right; for we have done just the same things ourselves. Farewell,
+you will find by the letters you receive this post whether we tell you
+truth or not.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+AN IMPOSING FUNERAL DESCRIBED[31]
+
+
+I must return to narration, it is a folly I can never resist. Prepare,
+therefore, for a description. I was yesterday at a service performed
+in honor of the Chancellor Segnier at the Oratory. Painting,
+sculpture, music, rhetoric--in a word, the four liberal arts--were at
+the expense of it. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the decorations;
+they were finely imagined, and designed by Le Brun. The mausoleum
+reached to the top of the dome, adorned with a thousand lamps, and a
+variety of figures characteristic of him in whose honor it was
+erected. Beneath were four figures of Death, bearing the marks of his
+several dignities, as having taken away his honors with his life. One
+of them held his helmet, another his ducal coronet, another the
+ensigns of his order, another his chancellor's mace. The four sister
+arts, painting, music, eloquence and sculpture, were represented in
+deep distress, bewailing the loss of their protector. The first
+representation was supported by the four virtues, fortitude,
+temperance, justice, and religion. Above these, four angels, or genii,
+received the soul of the deceased, and seemed preening their purple
+wings to bear their precious charge to heaven. The mausoleum was
+adorned with a variety of little seraphs who supported an illuminated
+shrine, which was fixt to the top of the cupola. Nothing so
+magnificent or so well imagined was ever seen; it is Le Brun's
+masterpiece. The whole church was adorned with pictures, devices, and
+emblems, which all bore some relation to the life, or office of the
+chancellor; and some of his noblest actions were represented in
+painting. Madame de Verneuil offered to purchase all the decoration at
+a great price; but it was unanimously resolved by those who had
+contributed to it to adorn a gallery with it, and to consecrate it as
+an everlasting monument of their gratitude and magnificence. The
+assembly was grand and numerous, but without confusion. I sat next to
+Monsieur de Tulle, Madame Colbert and the Duke of Monmouth, who is as
+handsome as when we saw him at the _palais royal_. (Let me tell you in
+a parenthesis that he is going to the army to join the King.) A young
+father of the Oratory came to speak the funeral oration. I desired
+Monsieur de Tulle to bid him come down, and to mount the pulpit in his
+place; since nothing could sustain the beauty of the spectacle, and
+the excellence of the music but the force of his eloquence.
+
+[Footnote 31: From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,
+1672.]
+
+My child, this young man trembled when he began, and we all trembled
+for him. Our ears were at first struck with a provincial accent; he is
+of Marseilles, and called Lené. But as he recovered from his
+confusion, he became so brilliant; established himself so well, gave
+so just a measure of praise to the deceased; touched with so much
+address and delicacy all the passages in his life where delicacy was
+required! placed in so true a light all that was most worthy of
+admiration; employed all the charms of expression, all the masterly
+strokes of eloquence with so much propriety and so much grace that
+every one present, without exception, burst into applause, charmed
+with so perfect, so finished a performance. He is twenty-eight years
+of age, the intimate friend of M. de Tulle, who accompanied him when
+he left the assembly. We were for naming him the Chevalier Mascaron,
+and I think he will even surpass his friend. As for the music, it was
+fine beyond all description. Baptiste exerted himself to the utmost,
+and was assisted by all the King's musicians. There was an addition
+made to that fine "Miserere," and there was a "Libera" which filled
+the eyes of the whole assembly with tears; I do not think the music in
+heaven could exceed it. There were several prelates present. I desired
+Guitaut to look for the good Bishop of Marseilles, but we could not
+see him. I whispered him that if it had been the funeral oration of
+any person living to whom he might have made his court by it he would
+not have failed to have been there. This little pleasantry made us
+laugh, in spite of the solemnity of the ceremony. My dear child, what
+a strange letter is this! I fancy I have almost lost my senses! What
+is this long account to you? To tell the truth, I have satisfied my
+love of description.
+
+
+
+
+ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
+
+ Born in France in 1668, died in 1747; studied philosophy and
+ law in Paris; wrote many novels and plays, some of them
+ borrowed from Spanish originals; published his chief work,
+ "Gil Blas," in 1715-35.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+IN THE SERVICE OF DR. SANGRADO[32]
+
+
+I determined to throw myself in the way of Sigñor Arias de Londona,
+and to look out for a new berth in his register; but as I was on my
+way to No Thoroughfare, who should come across me but Doctor Sangrado,
+whom I had not seen since the day of my master's death. I took the
+liberty of touching my hat. He kenned me in a twinkling, tho I had
+changed my dress; and with as much warmth as his temperament would
+allow him, "Heyday!" said he, "the very lad I wanted to see; you have
+never been out of my thought. I have occasion for a clever fellow
+about me, and pitched upon you as the very thing, if you can read and
+write." "Sir," replied I, "if that is all you require, I am your man."
+"In that case," rejoined he, "we need look no further. Come home with
+me: it will be all comfort; I shall behave to you like a brother. You
+will have no wages, but everything will be found you. You shall eat
+and drink according to the true faith, and be taught to cure all
+diseases. In a word, you shall rather be my young Sangrado than my
+footman."
+
+[Footnote 32: From "Gil Blas," which is perhaps as well known in
+English as in French, innumerable translations having been made. The
+best known is the one by Tobias Smollett, which has survived in favor
+to the present time. A translation by P. Proctor appeared in 1774, one
+by Martin Smart in 1807, and one by Benjamin H. Malkin in 1809.]
+
+I closed in with the doctor's proposal, in the hope of becoming an
+Esculapius under so inspired a master. He carried me home on the spur
+of the occasion, to install me in my honorable employment; which
+honorable employment consisted in writing down the name and residence
+of the patients who sent for him in his absence. There had indeed been
+a register for this purpose, kept by an old domestic; but she had not
+the gift of spelling accurately, and wrote a most perplexing hand.
+This account I was to keep. It might truly be called a bill of
+mortality; for my members all went from bad to worse during the short
+time they continued in this system. I was a sort of bookkeeper for the
+other world, to take places in the stage, and to see that the first
+come were the first served. My pen was always in my hand, for Doctor
+Sangrado had more practise than any physician of his time in
+Valladolid. He had got into reputation with the public by a certain
+professional slang, humored by a medical face, and some extraordinary
+cases more honored by implicit faith than scrupulous investigation.
+
+He was in no want of patients, nor consequently of property. He did
+not keep the best house in the world: we lived with some little
+attention to economy. The usual bill of fare consisted of peas,
+beans, boiled apples or cheese. He considered this food as best suited
+to the human stomach; that is to say, as most amenable to the
+grinders, whence it was to encounter the process of digestion.
+Nevertheless, easy as was their passage, he was not for stopping the
+way with too much of them; and to be sure, he was in the right. But
+tho he cautioned the maid and me against repletion in respect of
+solids, it was made up by free permission to drink as much water as we
+liked. Far from prescribing us any limits in that direction, he would
+tell us sometimes: "Drink, my children: health consists in the
+pliability and moisture of the parts. Drink water by pailfuls: it is a
+universal dissolvent; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of
+the blood a little sluggish? this grand principle sets it forward: too
+rapid? its career is checked." Our doctor was so orthodox on this head
+that the advanced in years, he drank nothing himself but water. He
+defined old age to be a natural consumption which dries us up and
+wastes us away: on this principle he deplored the ignorance of those
+who call wine "old men's milk." He maintained that wine wears them out
+and corrodes them; and pleaded with all the force of his eloquence
+against that liquor, fatal in common both to the young and old--that
+friend with a serpent in its bosom--that pleasure with a dagger under
+its girdle.
+
+In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week a looseness
+ensued, with some twinges, which I was blasphemous enough to saddle on
+the universal dissolvent and the new-fangled diet. I stated my
+symptoms to my master, in the hope that he would relax the rigor of
+his regimen and qualify my meals with a little wine; but his hostility
+to that liquor was inflexible. "If you have not philosophy enough,"
+said he, "for pure water, there are innocent infusions to strengthen
+the stomach against the nausea of aqueous quaffings. Sage, for
+example, has a very pretty flavor; and if you wish to heighten it into
+a debauch, it is only mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples
+with it--but no compounds."
+
+In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of
+composing delicious messes. I was so abstemious that, remarking my
+moderation, he said: "In good sooth, Gil Bias, I marvel not that you
+are no better than you are: you do not drink enough, my friend. Water
+taken in a small quantity serves only to separate the particles of
+bile and set them in action; but our practise is to drown them in a
+copious drench. Fear not, my good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid
+should either weaken or chill your stomach; far from thy better
+judgment be that silly fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you
+against all consequences; and if my authority will not serve your
+turn, read Celsus. That oracle of the ancient makes an admirable
+panegyric on water; in short, he says in plain terms that those who
+plead an inconstant stomach in favor of wine, publish a libel on their
+own viscera, and make their constitution a pretense for their
+sensuality."
+
+As it would have been ungenteel in me to run riot on my entrance into
+the career of practise, I affected thorough conviction; indeed, I
+thought there was something in it. I therefore went on drinking water
+on the authority of Celsus, or to speak in scientific terms, I began
+to drown the bile in copious drenches of that unadulterated liquor;
+and tho I felt myself more out of order from day to day, prejudice won
+the cause against experience. It is evident therefore that I was in
+the right road to the practise of physic. Yet I could not always be
+insensible to the qualms which increased in my frame, to that degree
+as to determine me on quitting Doctor Sangrado. But he invested me
+with a new office which changed my tone. "Hark you, my child," said he
+to me one day: "I am not one of those hard and ungrateful masters who
+leave their household to grow gray in service without a suitable
+reward. I am well pleased with you, I have a regard for you; and
+without waiting till you have served your time, I will make your
+fortune. Without more ado, I will initiate you in the healing art, of
+which I have for so many years been at the head. Other physicians make
+the science to consist of various unintelligible branches; but I will
+shorten the road for you, and dispense with the drudgery of studying
+natural philosophy, pharmacy, botany, and anatomy. Remember, my
+friend, that bleeding and drinking warm water are the two grand
+principles--the true secret of curing all the distempers incident to
+humanity. Yes, this marvelous secret which I reveal to you, and which
+Nature, beyond the reach of my colleagues, has failed in rescuing from
+my pen, is comprehended in these two articles; namely, bleeding and
+drenching. Here you have the sum total of my philosophy; you are
+thoroughly bottomed in medicine, and may raise yourself to the summit
+of fame on the shoulders of my long experience. You may enter into
+partnership at once, by keeping the books in the morning and going out
+to visit patients in the afternoon. While I dose the nobility and
+clergy, you shall labor in your vocation among the lower orders; and
+when you have felt your ground a little, I will get you admitted into
+our body. You are a philosopher, Gil Blas, tho you have never
+graduated; the common herd of them, tho they have graduated in due
+form and order, are likely to run out the length of their tether
+without knowing their right hand from their left."
+
+I thanked the doctor for having so speedily enabled me to serve as his
+deputy; and by way of acknowledging his goodness, promised to follow
+his system to the end of my career, with a magnanimous indifference
+about the aphorisms of Hippocrates. But that engagement was not to be
+taken to the letter. This tender attachment to water went against the
+grain, and I had a scheme for drinking wine every day snugly among the
+patients. I left off wearing my own suit a second time, to take up one
+of my master's and look like an experienced practitioner. After which
+I brought my medical theories into play, leaving those it might
+concern to look to the event. I began on an alguazil in a pleurisy; he
+was condemned to be bled with the utmost rigor of the law, at the same
+time that the system was to be replenished copiously with water. Next
+I made a lodgment in the veins of a gouty pastry-cook, who roared like
+a lion by reason of gouty spasms. I stood on no more ceremony with
+his blood than with that of the alguazil, and laid no restriction on
+his taste for simple liquids. My prescriptions brought me in twelve
+rials: an incident so auspicious in my professional career, that I
+only wished for the plagues of Egypt on all the hale subjects of
+Valladolid....
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+AS AN ARCHBISHOP'S FAVORITE[33]
+
+
+I had been after dinner to get together my baggage, and take my horse
+from the inn where I had put up; and afterward returned to supper at
+the archbishop's palace, where a neatly furnished room was got ready
+for me, and such a bed as was more likely to pamper than to mortify
+the flesh. The day following his Grace sent for me quite as soon as I
+was ready to go to him. It was to give me a homily to transcribe. He
+made a point of having it copied with all possible accuracy. It was
+done to please him; for I omitted neither accent, nor comma, nor the
+minutest tittle of all he had marked down. His satisfaction at
+observing this was heightened by its being unexpected. "Eternal
+Father!" exclaimed he in a holy rapture, when he had glanced his eye
+over all the folios of my copy, "was ever anything seen so correct?
+You are too good a transcriber not to have some little smattering of
+the grammarian. Now tell me with the freedom of a friend: in writing
+it over, have you been struck with nothing that grated upon your
+feelings? Some little careless idiom, or some word used in an improper
+sense?" "Oh, may it please your Grace," answered I with a modest air,
+"it is not for me, with my confined education and coarse taste, to aim
+at making critical remarks. And tho ever so well qualified, I am
+satisfied that your Grace's works would come out pure from the essay."
+The successor of the apostles smiled at my answer. He made no
+observation on it; but it was easy to see through all his piety that
+he was an arrant author at the bottom: there is something in that dye
+that not heaven itself can wash out.
+
+[Footnote 33: From "Gil Blas."]
+
+I seemed to have purchased the fee simple of his good graces by my
+flattery. Day after day did I get a step farther in his esteem; and
+Don Ferdinand, who came to see him very often, told me my footing was
+so firm that there could not be a doubt but my fortune was made. Of
+this my master himself gave me a proof some little time afterward; and
+the occasion was as follows: One evening in his closet he rehearsed
+before me, with appropriate emphasis and action, a homily which he was
+to deliver the next day in the cathedral. He did not content himself
+with asking me what I thought of it in the gross, but insisted on my
+telling him what passages struck me most. I had the good fortune to
+pick out those which were nearest to his own taste--his favorite
+commonplaces. Thus, as luck would have it, I passed in his estimation
+for a man who had a quick and natural relish of the real and less
+obvious beauties in a work. "This indeed," exclaimed he, "is what you
+may call having discernment and feeling in perfection! Well, well, my
+friend! it can not be said of you,
+
+ '_Beatum in crasso jurares aëre natum._'"
+
+In a word, he was so highly pleased with me as to add in a tone of
+extraordinary emotion, "Never mind, Gil Bias! henceforward take no
+care about hereafter: I shall make it my business to place you among
+the favored children of my bounty. You have my best wishes; and to
+prove to you that you have them, I shall take you into my inmost
+confidence."
+
+These words were no sooner out of his mouth than I fell at his Grace's
+feet, quite overwhelmed with gratitude. I embraced his elliptical legs
+with almost pagan idolatry, and considered myself as a man on the
+high-road to a very handsome fortune. "Yes, my child," resumed the
+archbishop, whose speech had been cut short by the rapidity of my
+prostration, "I mean to make you the receiver-general of all my inmost
+ruminations. Harken attentively to what I am going to say. I have a
+great pleasure in preaching. The Lord sheds a blessing on my homilies;
+they sink deep into the hearts of sinners; set up a glass in which
+vice sees its own image, and bring back many from the paths of error
+into the high-road of repentance. What a heavenly sight, when a miser,
+scared at the hideous picture of his avarice drawn by my eloquence,
+opens his coffers to the poor and needy, and dispenses the accumulated
+store with a liberal hand! The voluptuary, too, is snatched from the
+pleasures of the table; ambition flies at my command to the wholesome
+discipline of the monastic cell; while female frailty, tottering on
+the brink of ruin, with one ear open to the siren voice of the seducer
+and the other to my saintly correctives, is restored to domestic
+happiness and the approving smile of heaven, by the timely warnings of
+the pulpit.
+
+"These miraculous conversions, which happen almost every Sunday, ought
+of themselves to goad me on in the career of saving souls.
+Nevertheless, to conceal no part of my weakness from my monitor, there
+is another reward on which my heart is intent--a reward which the
+seraphic scrupulousness of my virtue to little purpose condemns as too
+carnal--a literary reputation for a sublime and elegant style. The
+honor of being handed down to posterity as a perfect pulpit orator has
+its irresistible attractions. My compositions are generally thought to
+be equally powerful and persuasive; but I could wish of all things to
+steer clear of the rock on which good authors split who are too long
+before the public, and to retire from professional life with my
+reputation in undiminished luster. To this end, my dear Gil Blas,"
+continued the prelate, "there is one thing requisite from your zeal
+and friendship. Whenever it shall strike you that my pen begins to
+contract, as it were, the ossification of old age, whenever you see my
+genius in its climateric, do not fail to give me a hint. There is no
+trusting to one's self in such a case: pride and conceit were the
+original sin of man. The probe of criticism must be entrusted to an
+impartial stander-by, of fine talents and unshaken probity. Both those
+requisites center in you: you are my choice, and I give myself up to
+your direction."
+
+"Heaven be praised, my lord," said I, "there is no need to trouble
+yourself with any such thoughts yet. Besides, an understanding of your
+Grace's mold and caliber will last out double the time of a common
+genius; or to speak with more certainty and truth, it will never be
+the worse for wear, if you live to the age of Methusaleh. I consider
+you as a second Cardinal Ximenes, whose powers, superior to decay,
+instead of flagging with years, seemed to derive new vigor from their
+approximation with the heavenly regions." "No flattery, my friend!"
+interrupted he. "I know myself to be in danger of failing all at once.
+At my age one begins to be sensible of infirmities, and those of the
+body communicate with the mind, I repeat it to you, Gil Bias, as soon
+as you shall be of opinion that my head is not so clear as usual, give
+me warning of it instantly. Do not be afraid of offending by frankness
+and sincerity: to put me in mind of my own frailty will be the
+strongest proof of your affection for me. Besides, your very interest
+is concerned in it; for if it should, by any spite of chance toward
+you, come to my ears that the people say in town, 'His Grace's sermons
+produce no longer their accustomed impression; it is time for him to
+abandon his pulpit to younger candidates'--I do assure you, most
+seriously and solemnly, you will lose not only my friendship, but the
+provision for life that I have promised you. Such will be the result
+of your silly tampering with truth."
+
+Here my patron left off to wait for my answer, which was an echo of
+his speech, and a promise of obeying him in all things. From that
+moment there were no secrets from me; I became the prime favorite. All
+the household, except Melchior de la Ronda, looked at me with an eye
+of envy. It was curious to observe the manner in which the whole
+establishment, from the highest to the lowest, thought it necessary to
+demean themselves toward his Grace's confidential secretary; there was
+no meanness to which they would not stoop to curry favor with me: I
+could scarcely believe they were Spaniards. I left no stone unturned
+to be of service to them, without being taken in by their interested
+assiduities.
+
+
+
+
+DUC DE SAINT-SIMON
+
+ Born in France in 1675, died in 1755; served in the army in
+ the time of Louis XIV; member of the Council of Regency in
+ the reign of Louis XV; ambassador to Spain to 1721; his
+ "Memoirs," first published in twenty volumes it 1829-30; not
+ to be confounded with the Count of Saint-Simon, the
+ philosopher and socialist, the memoir writer being a duke.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN[34]
+
+
+Monseigneur le Dauphin, ill and agitated by the most bitter grief,
+kept his chamber; but on Saturday morning of the 13th, being prest to
+go to Marly to avoid the horror of the noise where the Dauphine was
+lying dead, he set out for that place at seven o'clock in the morning.
+Shortly after arriving he heard mass in the chapel, and thence was
+carried in a chair to the window of one of his rooms. Madame de
+Maintenon came to see him there afterward. The anguish of the
+interview was speedily too much for her, and she went away. Early in
+the morning I went uninvited to see M. le Dauphin. He showed me that
+he perceived this with an air of gentleness and of affection which
+penetrated me. But I was terrified with his looks, constrained, fixt
+and with something wild about them; with the change of his looks and
+with the marks there, livid rather than red, that I observed in good
+number and large; marks observed by the others also.
+
+[Footnote 34: From the "Memoirs on the Reign of Louis XIV and the
+Regency." Translated by Bayle St. John, traveler and Author, his
+"Village Life Egypt" appearing in 1852.]
+
+The Dauphin was standing. In a few moments he was apprized that the
+King had awaked. The tears that he had restrained now rolled from his
+eyes; he turned round at the news, but said nothing, remaining stock
+still. His three attendants proposed to him once or twice that he
+should go to the King. He neither spoke nor stirred. I approached and
+made signs to him to go, then softly spoke to the same effect. Seeing
+that he still remained speechless and motionless, I made bold to take
+his arm, representing to him that sooner or later he must see the
+King, who expected him, and assuredly with the desire to see and
+embrace him. He cast upon me a look that pierced my soul and went
+away. I followed him some few steps and then withdrew to recover
+breath. I never saw him again. May I, by the mercy of God, see him
+eternally where God's goodness doubtless has placed him!
+
+The Dauphin reached the chamber of the King, full just then of
+company. As soon as he appeared the King called him and embraced him
+tenderly again and again. These first moments, so touching, passed in
+words broken by sobs and tears. Shortly afterward the King, looking at
+the Dauphin, was terrified by the same things that had previously
+struck me with affright. Everybody around was so also, the doctors
+more than the others. The King ordered them to feel his pulse, that
+they found bad, so they said afterward; for the time they contented
+themselves with saying that it was not regular, and that the Dauphin
+would do wisely to go to bed. The King embraced him again, recommended
+him very tenderly to take care of himself, and ordered him to go to
+bed. He obeyed and rose no more!
+
+It was now late in the morning. The King had passed a cruel night and
+had a bad headache; he saw at his dinner the few courtiers who
+presented themselves, and then after dinner went to the Dauphin. The
+fever had augmented, the pulse was worse than before. The King passed
+into the apartment of Madame de Maintenon, and the Dauphin was left
+with attendants and his doctors. He spent the day in prayers and holy
+reading.
+
+On the morrow, Sunday, the uneasiness felt on account of the Dauphin
+augmented. He himself did not conceal his belief that he would never
+rise again, and that the plot Pondin had warned him of had been
+executed. He explained himself to this effect more than once and
+always with a disdain of earthly grandeur and an incomparable
+submission and love of God. It is impossible to describe the general
+consternation. On Monday the 15th the King was bled. The Dauphin was
+no better than before. The King and Madame de Maintenon saw him
+separately several times during the day, which was passed in prayers
+and reading.
+
+On Tuesday, the 16th, the Dauphin was worse. He felt himself devoured
+by a consuming fire, which the external fever did not seem to justify,
+but the pulse was very extraordinary and exceedingly menacing. This
+was a deceptive day. The marks in the Dauphin's face extended all
+over the body. They were regarded as the marks of measles. Hope arose
+thereon, but the doctors and the most clear-sighted of the court could
+not forget that these same marks had shown themselves on the body of
+the Dauphine, a fact unknown out of her chamber until after death.
+
+On Wednesday, the 17th, the malady considerably increased. I had news
+at all times of the Dauphin's state from Cheverney, an excellent
+apothecary of the King and of my family. He hid nothing from us. He
+had told us what he thought of the Dauphine's illness; he told us now
+what he thought of the Dauphin's. I no longer hoped therefore, or
+rather I hoped to the end against all hope.
+
+On Wednesday the pains increased. They were like a devouring fire, but
+more violent than ever. Very late into the evening the Dauphin sent to
+the King for permission to receive the communion early the next
+morning and without display at the mass performed in his chamber.
+Nobody heard of this that evening; it was not known until the
+following morning. I was in extreme desolation. I scarcely saw the
+King once a day. I did nothing but go in quest of news several times a
+day, and to the house of M. de Chevreuse, where I was completely free.
+M. de Chevreuse--always calm, always sanguine--endeavored to prove to
+us by his medical reasonings that there was more reason to hope than
+to fear; but he did so with a tranquillity that roused my impatience.
+I returned home to pass a cruel night.
+
+On Thursday morning, the 18th February, I learned that the Dauphin,
+who had waited for midnight with impatience, had heard mass
+immediately after the communion, had passed two hours in devout
+communication with God, and that his reason then became embarrassed.
+Madame de Saint-Simon told me afterward that he had received extreme
+unction; in fine that he had died at half-past eight.
+
+These memoirs are not written to describe my private sentiments. But
+in reading them--if long after me they shall ever appear--my state and
+that of Madame de Saint-Simon will only too keenly be felt. I will
+content myself with saying that the first days after the Dauphin's
+death scarcely appeared to us more than moments; that I wished to quit
+all, to withdraw from the court and the world, and that I was only
+hindered by the wisdom, conduct and power over me of Madame de
+Saint-Simon, who yet had some trouble to subdue my sorrowful desire.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE PUBLIC WATCHING THE KING AND MADAME[35]
+
+
+The King wished to show the court all the maneuvers of war; the siege
+of Compiègne was therefore undertaken, according to due form, with
+lines, trenches, batteries, mines, etc. On Saturday, the 13th of
+September, the assault took place. To witness it, the King, Madame de
+Maintenon,[36] all the ladies of the court, and a number of
+gentlemen, stationed themselves upon an old rampart, from which the
+plain and all the disposition of the troops could be seen. I was in
+the half-circle very close to the King. It was the most beautiful
+sight that can be imagined to see all that army, and the prodigious
+number of spectators on horse and foot, and that game of attack and
+defense so cleverly conducted.
+
+[Footnote 35: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+But a spectacle of another sort--that I could paint forty years hence
+as well as to-day, so strongly did it strike me--was that which from
+the summit of this rampart the King gave to all his army, and to the
+innumerable crowd of spectators of all kinds in the plain below.
+Madame de Maintenon faced the plain and the troops in her sedan-chair,
+alone, between its three windows drawn up; her porters having retired
+to a distance. On the left pole in front sat Madame la Duchesse de
+Bourgogne; and on the same side, in a semicircle, standing, were
+Madame la Duchesse, Madame la Princesse de Conti, and all the
+ladies--and behind them again, many men. At the right window was the
+King, standing, and a little in the rear a semicircle of the most
+distinguished men of the court. The King was nearly always uncovered;
+and every now and then stooped to speak to Madame de Maintenon, and
+explain to her what she saw, and the reason of each movement.
+
+[Footnote 36: At the period of which Saint-Simon here writes, Madame
+de Maintenon had acquired that ascendency over Louis XIV which
+resulted in her marriage to him. She had been born in a prison, and
+was three years the senior of the King. Her first husband was the poet
+Scarron, at whose death, after a marriage of nine years, she had found
+herself in poverty. She secured a pension from Anne of Austria, the
+mother of the King, but at the queen-mother's death the pension was
+discontinued. She was placed in charge of the King's natural son, to
+whom she became much devoted, and was advanced through the King's
+favor to various positions at court, receiving in 1678 the title of
+marquise. Five years later the queen of Louis XIV died, and Louis
+married Madame de Maintenon, whose influence over him in matters of
+church and state became thereafter very great. She was a patroness of
+art and literature, intensely orthodox in religion, and has been held
+largely responsible for the King's revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
+which occurred during the year of their marriage, tho she opposed the
+violent persecutions which followed.]
+
+Each time that he did so she was obliging enough to open the window
+four or five inches, but never half-way; for I noticed particularly,
+and I admit that I was more attentive to this spectacle than to that
+of the troops. Sometimes she opened of her own accord to ask some
+question of him: but generally it was he who, without waiting for her,
+stooped down to instruct her of what was passing; and sometimes, if
+she did not notice him, he tapped at the glass to make her open it. He
+never spoke save to her, except when he gave a few brief orders, or
+just answered Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne, who wanted to make him
+speak, and with whom Madame de Maintenon carried on a conversation by
+signs, without opening the front window, through which the young
+princess screamed to her from time to time. I watched the countenance
+of every one carefully: all exprest surprize, tempered with prudence,
+and shame that was, as it were, ashamed of itself; every one behind
+the chair and in the semicircle watched this scene more than what was
+going on in the army. The King often put his hat on the top of the
+chair in order to get his head in to speak; and this continual
+exercise tired his loins very much. Monseigneur was on horseback in
+the plain with the young princes. It was about five o'clock in the
+afternoon, and the weather was as brilliant as could be desired.
+
+Opposite the sedan-chair was an opening with some steps cut through
+the wall, and communicating with the plain below. It had been made for
+the purpose of fetching orders from the King, should they be
+necessary. The case happened. Crenan, who commanded, sent Conillac, an
+officer in one of the defending regiments, to ask for some
+instructions from the King. Conillac had been stationed at the foot of
+the rampart, where what was passing above could not be seen. He
+mounted the steps; and as soon as his head and shoulders were at the
+top, caught sight of the chair, the King, and all the assembled
+company. He was not prepared for such a scene; and it struck him with
+such astonishment that he stopt short, with mouth and eyes wide
+open--surprize painted upon every feature. I see him now as distinctly
+as I did then. The King, as well as the rest of the company, remarked
+the agitation of Conillac, and said to him with emotion, "Well,
+Conillac! come up." Conillac remained motionless, and the King
+continued, "Come up. What is the matter?" Conillac, thus addrest,
+finished his ascent, and came toward the King with slow and trembling
+steps, rolling his eyes from right to left like one deranged. Then he
+stammered something, but in a tone so low that it could not be heard.
+"What do you say?" cried the King. "Speak up." But Conillac was
+unable; and the King, finding he could get nothing out of him, told
+him to go away. He did not need to be told twice, but disappeared at
+once. As soon as he was gone, the King looking round said, "I don't
+know what is the matter with Conillac. He has lost his wits: he did
+not remember what he had to say to me." No one answered.
+
+Toward the moment of the capitulation, Madame de Maintenon apparently
+asked permission to go away; for the King cried, "The chairmen of
+madame!" They came and took her away; in less than a quarter of an
+hour afterward the King retired also, and nearly everybody else. There
+was much interchange of glances, nudging with elbows, and then
+whisperings in the ear. Everybody was full of what had taken place on
+the ramparts between the King and Madame de Maintenon. Even the
+soldiers asked what meant that sedan-chair, and the King every moment
+stooping to put his head inside of it. It became necessary gently to
+silence these questions of the troops. What effect this sight had upon
+foreigners present, and what they said of it, may be imagined. All
+over Europe it was as much talked of as the camp of Compiègne itself,
+with all its pomp and prodigious splendor.
+
+
+
+
+BARON DE MONTESQUIEU
+
+ Born near Bordeaux in 1689, died in Paris in 1755; studied
+ law and became a councilor in 1716; president of the
+ Bordeaux Parliament; devoted himself to a study of
+ literature and jurisprudence; published "Persian Letters" in
+ 1721, which secured him an election to the Academy in 1728;
+ traveled in Austria, Italy, Germany, Holland and England;
+ published "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans" in 1734,
+ and "Spirit of the Laws" in 1748.[37]
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF THE CAUSES WHICH DESTROYED ROME[38]
+
+
+While the sovereignty of Rome was confined to Italy, it was easy for
+the commonwealth to subsist: every soldier was at the same time a
+citizen; every Consul raised an army, and other citizens marched into
+the field under his successor: as their forces were not very numerous,
+such persons only were received among the troops as had possessions
+considerable enough to make them interested in the preservation of the
+city; the Senate kept a watchful eye over the conduct of the generals,
+and did not give them an opportunity of machinating anything to the
+prejudice of their country.
+
+[Footnote 37: Montesquieu is declared by Mr. Saintsbury to deserve the
+title of "the greatest man of letters of the French eighteenth
+century." He places him above Voltaire because "of his far greater
+originality and depth of thought."]
+
+[Footnote 38: From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans," of
+which an English translation was issued as early as 1751.]
+
+But after the legions had passed the Alps and crossed the sea, the
+soldiers whom the Romans had been obliged to leave during several
+campaigns in the countries they were subduing, lost insensibly that
+genius and turn of mind which characterized a Roman citizen; and the
+generals having armies and kingdoms at their disposal were sensible of
+their own strength, and would no longer obey.
+
+The soldiers therefore began to acknowledge no superior but their
+general; to found their hopes on him only, and to view the city as
+from a great distance: they were no longer the soldiers of the
+republic, but of Sulla, of Marius, of Pompey, and of Cæsar. The Romans
+could no longer tell whether the person who headed an army in a
+province was their general or their enemy.
+
+So long as the people of Rome were corrupted by their tribunes only,
+on whom they could bestow nothing but their power, the Senate could
+easily defend themselves, because they acted consistently and with one
+regular tenor, whereas the common people were continually shifting
+from the extremes of fury to the extremes of cowardice; but when they
+were enabled to invest their favorites with a formidable exterior
+authority, the whole wisdom of the Senate was baffled, and the
+commonwealth was undone.
+
+The reason why free states are not so permanent as other forms of
+government is because the misfortunes and successes which happen to
+them generally occasion the loss of liberty; whereas the successes and
+misfortunes of an arbitrary government contribute equally to the
+enslaving of the people. A wise republic ought not to run any hazard
+which may expose it to good or ill fortune; the only happiness the
+several individuals of it should aspire after is to give perpetuity to
+their state.
+
+If the unbounded extent of the Roman empire proved the ruin of the
+republic, the vast compass of the city was no less fatal to it.
+
+The Romans had subdued the whole universe by the assistance of the
+nations of Italy, on whom they had bestowed various privileges at
+different times. Most of those nations did not at first set any great
+value on the freedom of the city of Rome, and some chose rather to
+preserve their ancient usages; but when this privilege became that of
+universal sovereignty--when a man who was not a Roman citizen was
+considered as nothing, and with this title was everything--the people
+of Italy resolved either to be Romans or die: not being able to obtain
+this by cabals and entreaties, they had recourse to arms; and rising
+in all that part of Italy opposite to the Ionian sea, the rest of the
+allies were going to follow their example. Rome, being now forced to
+combat against those who were, if I may be allowed the figure, the
+hands with which they shackled the universe, was upon the brink of
+ruin; the Romans were going to be confined merely to their walls: they
+therefore granted this so much wished-for privilege to the allies who
+had not yet been wanting in fidelity; and they indulged it, by
+insensible degrees, to all other nations.
+
+But now Rome was no longer that city the inhabitants of which had
+breathed one and the same spirit, the same love for liberty, the same
+hatred of tyranny; a city in which a jealousy of the power of the
+Senate and of the prerogatives of the great (ever accompanied with
+respect) was only a love of equality. The nations of Italy being made
+citizens of Rome, every city brought thither its genius, its
+particular interests, and its dependence on some mighty protector:
+Rome, being now rent and divided, no longer formed one entire body,
+and men were no longer citizens of it but in a kind of fictitious way;
+as there were no longer the same magistrates, the same walls, the same
+gods, the same temples, the same burying-places, Rome was no longer
+beheld with the same eyes; the citizens were no longer fired with the
+same love for their country, and the Roman sentiments were
+obliterated.
+
+Cities and nations were now invited to Rome by the ambitious, to
+disconcert the suffrages, or influence them in their own favor; the
+public assemblies were so many conspiracies against the state, and a
+tumultuous crowd of seditious wretches was dignified with the title of
+Comitia. The authority of the people and their laws--nay, that people
+themselves--were no more than so many chimeras; and so universal was
+the anarchy of those times that it was not possible to determine
+whether the people had made a law or not.
+
+Authors enlarge very copiously on the divisions which proved the
+destruction of Rome; but their readers seldom discover those divisions
+to have been always necessary and inevitable. The grandeur of the
+republic was the only source of that calamity, and exasperated
+popular tumults into civil wars. Dissensions were not to be prevented;
+and those martial spirits which were so fierce and formidable abroad
+could not be habituated to any considerable moderation at home. Those
+who expect in a free state to see the people undaunted in war and
+pusillanimous in peace, are certainly desirous of impossibilities; and
+it may be advanced as a general rule that whenever a perfect calm is
+visible, in a state that calls itself a republic, the spirit of
+liberty no longer subsists.
+
+Union, in a body politic, is a very equivocal term: true union is such
+a harmony as makes all the particular parts, as opposite as they may
+seem to us, concur to the general welfare of the society, in the same
+manner as discords in music contribute to the general melody of sound.
+Union may prevail in a state full of seeming commotions; or in other
+words, there may be a harmony from whence results prosperity, which
+alone is true peace; and may be considered in the same view as the
+various parts of this universe, which are eternally connected by the
+action of some and the reaction of others.
+
+In a despotic state, indeed, which is every government where the power
+is immoderately exerted, a real division is perpetually kindled. The
+peasant, the soldier, the merchant, the magistrate, and the grandee,
+have no other conjunction than what arises from the ability of the one
+to oppress the other without resistance; and if at any time a union
+happens to be introduced, citizens are not then united, but dead
+bodies are laid in the grave contiguous to each other.
+
+It must be acknowledged that the Roman laws were too weak to govern
+the republic; but experience has proved it to be an invariable fact
+that good laws, which raise the reputation and power of a small
+republic, become incommodious to it when once its grandeur is
+established, because it was their natural effect to make a great
+people but not to govern them.
+
+The difference is very considerable between good laws and those which
+may be called convenient; between such laws as give a people dominion
+over others, and such as continue them in the possession of power when
+they have once acquired it.
+
+There is at this time a republic in the world (the Canton of Berne),
+of which few persons have any knowledge, and which, by plans
+accomplished in silence and secrecy, is daily enlarging its power. And
+certain it is that if it ever rises to that height of grandeur for
+which it seems preordained by its wisdom, it must inevitably change
+its laws; and the necessary innovations will not be effected by any
+legislator, but must spring from corruption itself.
+
+Rome was founded for grandeur, and her laws had an admirable tendency
+to bestow it; for which reason, in all the variations of her
+government, whether monarchy, aristocracy, or popular, she constantly
+engaged in enterprises which required conduct to accomplish them, and
+always succeeded. The experience of a day did not furnish her with
+more wisdom than all other nations, but she obtained it by a long
+succession of events. She sustained a small, a moderate, and an
+immense fortune with the same superiority, derived true welfare from
+the whole train of her prosperities, and refined every instance of
+calamity into beneficial instructions.
+
+She lost her liberty because she completed her work too soon.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF THE RELATION OF LAWS TO DIFFERENT HUMAN BEINGS[39]
+
+
+Laws, in their most general signification, are the necessary relations
+arising from the nature of things. In this sense all beings have their
+laws; the Deity His laws, the material world its laws, the
+intelligences superior to man their laws, the beasts their laws, man
+his laws.
+
+[Footnote 39: From "The Spirit of Laws." The translation of Thomas
+Nugent was published in 1756.]
+
+They who assert that a blind fatality produced the various effects we
+behold in this world talk very absurdly; for can anything be more
+unreasonable than to pretend that a blind fatality could be productive
+of intelligent beings?
+
+There is, then, a primitive reason; and laws are the relations
+subsisting between it and different beings, and the relations of these
+to one another.
+
+God is related to the universe, as Creator and Preserver; the laws by
+which He created all things are those by which He preserves them. He
+acts according to these rules, because He knows them; He knows them,
+because He made them; and He made them, because they are relative to
+His wisdom and power.
+
+Since we observe that the world, tho formed by the motion of matter,
+and void of understanding, subsists through so long a succession of
+ages, its motions must certainly be directed by invariable laws; and
+could we imagine another world, it must also have constant rules, or
+it would inevitably perish.
+
+Thus the creation, which seems an arbitrary net, supposes laws as
+invariable as those of the fatality of the atheists. It would be
+absurd to say that the Creator might govern the world without these
+rules, since without them it could not subsist.
+
+These rules are a fixt and variable relation. In bodies moved, the
+motion is received, increased, diminished, lost, according to the
+relations of the quantity of matter and velocity; each diversity is
+uniformity, each change is constancy.
+
+Particular intelligent beings may have laws of their own making, but
+they have some likewise which they never made. Before they were
+intelligent beings, they were possible; they had therefore possible
+relations, and consequently possible laws. Before laws were made,
+there were relations of possible justice. To say that there is nothing
+just or unjust but what is commanded or forbidden by positive laws is
+the same as saying that before the describing of a circle all the
+radii were not equal.
+
+We must therefore acknowledge relations of justice antecedent to the
+positive law by which they are established: as for instance, that if
+human societies existed it would be right to conform to their laws; if
+there were intelligent beings that had received a benefit of another
+being, they ought to show their gratitude; if one intelligent being
+had created another intelligent being, the latter ought to continue in
+its original state of dependence; if one intelligent being injures
+another, it deserves a retaliation; and so on.
+
+But the intelligent world is far from being so well governed as the
+physical. For tho the former has also its laws, which of their own
+nature are invariable, it does not conform to them so exactly as the
+physical world. This is because, on the one hand, particular
+intelligent beings are of a finite nature, and consequently liable to
+error; and on the other, their nature requires them to be free agents.
+Hence they do not steadily conform to their primitive laws; and even,
+those of their own instituting they frequently infringe.
+
+Whether brutes be governed by the general laws of motion or by a
+particular movement we can not determine. Be that as it may, they have
+not a more intimate relation to God than the rest of the material
+world; and sensation is of no other use to them than in the relation
+they have either to other particular beings or to themselves.
+
+By the allurements of pleasure they preserve the individual, and by
+the same allurements they preserve their species. They have natural
+laws, because they are united by sensation; positive laws they have
+none, because they are not connected by knowledge. And yet they do not
+invariably conform to their natural laws; these are better observed
+by vegetables, that have neither understanding nor sense.
+
+Brutes are deprived of the high advantages which we have; but they
+have some which we have not. They have not our hopes, but they are
+without our fears; they are subject like us to death, but without
+knowing it; even most of them are more attentive than we to
+self-preservation, and do not make so bad a use of their passions.
+
+Man, as a physical being, is like other bodies, governed by invariable
+laws. As an intelligent being, he incessantly transgresses the laws
+established by God, and changes those of his own instituting. He is
+left to his private direction, tho a limited being, and subject, like
+all finite intelligences, to ignorance and error; even his imperfect
+knowledge he loses; and as a sensible creature, he is hurried away by
+a thousand impetuous passions. Such a being might every instant forget
+his Creator; God has therefore reminded him of his duty by the laws of
+religion. Such a being is liable every moment to forget himself;
+philosophy has provided against this by the laws of morality. Formed
+to live in society, he might forget his fellow creatures; legislators
+have therefore by political and civil laws confined him to his duty.
+
+
+
+
+FRANÇOIS AROUET VOLTAIRE
+
+ Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778; his original name
+ Arouet; educated at the College of Louis-le-Grand; exiled
+ because of his freedom of speech; twice imprisoned in the
+ Bastille; resided in England in 1726-29; went to Prussia at
+ the invitation of Frederick the Great in 1750, remaining
+ three years, the friendship ending in bitter enmity; wrote
+ in Prussia his "Le Siècle de Louis XIV"; settled at Geneva
+ in 1756, and two years later at Ferney, where he lived until
+ his death in 1778; visited Paris in 1778, being received
+ with great honors; his works very numerous, one edition
+ comprizing seventy-two volumes.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF BACON'S GREATNESS[40]
+
+
+Not long since the trite and frivolous question following was debated
+in a very polite and learned company, viz., Who was the greatest man,
+Cæsar, Alexander, Tamerlane, Cromwell, etc.?
+
+[Footnote 40: From the "Letters on England." Voltaire's visit to
+England followed immediately upon his release from imprisonment in the
+Bastille. During the two years he spent there, he acquired an intimate
+knowledge of English life, and came to know most of the eminent
+Englishmen of the time.
+
+An English version of Voltaire's writings, in thirty-five volumes, was
+published in 1761-69, with notes by Smollett and others. The "Letters
+from England" seem to have first appeared in English in 1734.]
+
+Somebody answered that Sir Isaac Newton excelled them all. The
+gentleman's assertion was very just; for if true greatness consists in
+having received from heaven a mighty genius, and in having employed
+it to enlighten our own mind and that of others, a man like Sir Isaac
+Newton, whose equal is hardly found in a thousand years, is the truly
+great man. And those politicians and conquerors (and all ages produce
+some) were generally so many illustrious wicked men. That man claims
+our respect who commands over the minds of the rest of the world by
+the force of truth, not those who enslave their fellow creatures; he
+who is acquainted with the universe, not they who deface it.
+
+The most singular and the best of all his pieces is that which, at
+this time, is the most useless and the least read. I mean his "Novum
+Scientiarum Organum." This is the scaffold with which the new
+philosophy was raised; and when the edifice was built, part of it, at
+least the scaffold was no longer of service.
+
+Lord Bacon was not yet acquainted with nature, but then he knew, and
+pointed out the several paths that lead to it. He had despised in his
+younger years the thing called philosophy in the universities, and did
+all that lay in his power to prevent those societies of men instituted
+to improve human reason from depraving it by their quiddities, their
+horrors of the vacuum, their substantial forms, and all those
+impertinent terms which not only ignorance had rendered venerable, but
+which had been made sacred by their being ridiculously blended with
+religion.
+
+He is the father of experimental philosophy. It must, indeed, be
+confest that very surprizing secrets had been found out before his
+time--the sea compass, printing, engraving on copper plates, oil
+painting, looking-glasses; the art of restoring, in some measure, old
+men to their sight by spectacles; gunpowder, etc., had been
+discovered. A new world had been fought for, found, and conquered.
+Would not one suppose that these sublime discoveries had been made by
+the greatest philosophers, and in ages much more enlightened than the
+present? But it was far otherwise; all these great changes happened in
+the most stupid and barbarous times. Chance only gave birth to most of
+those inventions; and it is very probable that what is called chance
+contributed very much to the discovery of America; at least it has
+been always thought that Christopher Columbus undertook his voyage
+merely on the relation of a captain of a ship which a storm had driven
+as far westward as the Caribbean Island. Be this as it will, men had
+sailed round the world, and could destroy cities by an artificial
+thunder more dreadful than the real one; but, then, they were not
+acquainted with the circulation of the blood, the weight of the air,
+the laws of motions, light, the number of our planets, etc. And a man
+who maintained a thesis on Aristotle's "Categories," on the universals
+_a parte rei_, or such-like nonsense, was looked upon as a prodigy.
+
+The most astonishing, the most useful inventions, are not those which
+reflect the greatest honor on the human mind. It is to a mechanical
+instinct, which is found in many men, and not to true philosophy that
+most arts owe their origin.
+
+The discovery of fire, the art of making bread, of melting and
+preparing metals, of building houses, and the invention of the shuttle
+are infinitely more beneficial to mankind than printing or the sea
+compass; and yet these arts were invented by uncultivated, savage men.
+
+What a prodigious use the Greeks and Romans made afterward of
+mechanics! Nevertheless, they believed that there were crystal
+heavens, that the stars were small lamps which sometimes fell into the
+sea, and one of their greatest philosophers, after long researches,
+found that the stars were so many flints which had been detached from
+the earth.
+
+In a word, no one before Lord Bacon was acquainted with experimental
+philosophy, nor with the several physical experiments which have been
+made since his time. Scarce one of them but is hinted at in his work,
+and he himself had made several. He made a kind of pneumatic engine,
+by which he guessed the elasticity of the air. He approached on all
+sides, as it were, to the discovery of its weight, and had very near
+attained it, but some time after Torricelli seized upon this truth. In
+a little time experimental philosophy began to be cultivated on a
+sudden in most parts of Europe. It was a hidden treasure which Lord
+Bacon had some notion of, and which all the philosophers, encouraged
+by his promises, endeavored to dig up.
+
+But that which surprized me most was to read in his work, in express
+terms, the new attraction, the invention of which is ascribed to Sir
+Isaac Newton.
+
+We must search, says Lord Bacon, whether there may not be a kind of
+magnetic power which operates between the earth and heavy bodies,
+between the moon and the ocean, between the planets, etc. In another
+place he says, either heavy bodies must be carried toward the center
+of the earth, or must be reciprocally attracted by it; and in the
+latter case it is evident that the nearer bodies in their falling,
+draw toward the earth, the stronger they will attract one another. We
+must, says he, make an experiment to see whether the same clock will
+go faster on the top of a mountain or at the bottom of a mine; whether
+the strength of the weights decreases on the mountain and increases in
+the mine. It is probable that the earth has a true attractive power.
+
+This forerunner in philosophy was also an elegant writer, a historian,
+and a wit.
+
+His moral essays are greatly esteemed, but they were drawn up in the
+view of instructing rather than of pleasing; and, as they are not a
+satire upon mankind, like Rochefoucauld's "Maxims," nor written upon a
+skeptical plan, like Montaigne's "Essays," they are not so much read
+as those two ingenious authors.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+ENGLAND'S REGARD FOR MEN OF LETTERS[41]
+
+
+Neither the English nor any other people have foundations established
+in favor of the polite arts like those in France. There are
+universities in most countries, but it is in France only that we meet
+with so beneficial an encouragement for astronomy and all parts of the
+mathematics, for physic, for researches into antiquity, for painting,
+sculpture, and architecture. Louis XIV has immortalized his name by
+these several foundations, and this immortality did not cost him two
+hundred thousand livres a year.
+
+[Footnote 41: From the "Letters on England."]
+
+I must confess that one of the things I very much wonder at is that as
+the Parliament of Great Britain have promised a reward of £20,000 to
+any person who may discover the longitude, they should never have once
+thought to imitate Louis XIV in his munificence with regard to the
+arts and sciences.
+
+Merit, indeed, meets in England with rewards of another kind, which
+redound more to the honor of the nation. The English have so great a
+veneration for exalted talents, that a man of merit in their country
+is always sure of making his fortune. Mr. Addison in France would have
+been elected a member of one of the academies, and, by the credit of
+some women, might have obtained a yearly pension of twelve hundred
+livres, or else might have been imprisoned in the Bastille, upon
+pretense that certain strokes in his tragedy of Cato had been
+discovered which glanced at the porter of some man in power. Mr.
+Addison was raised to the post of Secretary of State in England. Sir
+Isaac Newton was made Master of the Royal Mint. Mr. Congreve had a
+considerable employment. Mr. Prior was Plenipotentiary. Dr. Swift is
+Dean of St. Patrick's in Dublin, and is more revered in Ireland than
+the Primate himself. The religion which Mr. Pope professes[42]
+excludes him, indeed, from preferments of every kind, but then it did
+not prevent his gaining two hundred thousand livres by his excellent
+translation of Homer. I myself saw a long time in France the author of
+"Rhadamistus"[43] ready to perish for hunger. And the son of one of
+the greatest men our country ever gave birth to, and who was beginning
+to run the noble career which his father had set him, would have been
+reduced to the extremes of misery had he not been patronized by
+Monsieur Fagon.
+
+[Footnote 42: Pope was a Catholic.]
+
+[Footnote 43: "Rhadamiste et Zénobia," a tragedy by Crébillon (1711),
+who long suffered from neglect and want.]
+
+But the circumstance which mostly encourages the arts in England is
+the great veneration which is paid them. The picture of the Prime
+Minister hangs over the chimney of his own closet, but I have seen
+that of Mr. Pope in twenty noblemen's houses. Sir Isaac Newton was
+revered in his lifetime, and had a due respect paid to him after his
+death,--the greatest men in the nation disputing who should have the
+honor of holding up his pall. Go into Westminster Abbey, and you will
+find that what raises the admiration of the spectator is not the
+mausoleums of the English kings, but the monuments which the gratitude
+of the nation has erected to perpetuate the memory of those
+illustrious men who contributed to its glory. We view their statues in
+that abbey in the same manner as those of Sophocles, Plato, and other
+immortal personages were viewed in Athens; and I am persuaded that the
+bare sight of those glorious monuments has fired more than one breast,
+and been the occasion of their becoming great men.
+
+The English have even been reproached with paying too extravagant
+honors to mere merit, and censured for interring the celebrated
+actress Mrs. Oldfield[44] in Westminster Abbey, with almost the same
+pomp as Sir Isaac Newton. Some pretend that the English had paid her
+these great funeral honors purposely to make us more strongly sensible
+of the barbarity and injustice which they object to in us, for having
+buried Mademoiselle Le Couvreur ignominiously in the fields.
+
+[Footnote 44: Anne, or "Nance" Oldfield was born in 1683, and died in
+1730. Her death occurred in the year which followed the close of
+Voltaire's English visit. At her funeral, the body lay in state in the
+Jerusalem Chamber of Westminster Abbey. She had a natural son, who
+married Lady Mary Walpole, a natural daughter of Sir Robert Walpole,
+the Prime Minister.]
+
+But be assured from me that the English were prompted by no other
+principle in burying Mrs. Oldfield in Westminster Abbey than their
+good sense. They are far from being so ridiculous as to brand with
+infamy an art which has immortalized a Euripides and a Sophocles; or
+to exclude from the body of their citizens a set of people whose
+business is to set off with the utmost grace of speech and action
+those pieces which the nation is proud of.
+
+Under the reign of Charles I and in the beginning of the civil wars
+raised by a number of rigid fanatics, who at last were the victims to
+it, a great many pieces were published against theatrical and other
+shows, which were attacked with the greater virulence because that
+monarch and his queen, daughter to Henry I of France, were
+passionately fond of them.
+
+One Mr. Prynne, a man of most furiously scrupulous principles, who
+would have thought himself damned had he worn a cassock instead of a
+short cloak, and have been glad to see one-half of mankind cut the
+other to pieces for the glory of God and the _Propaganda Fide_, took
+it into his head to write a most wretched satire against some pretty
+good comedies, which were exhibited very innocently every night before
+their majesties. He quoted the authority of the Rabbis, and some
+passages from St. Bonaventura, to prove that the "Oedipus" of
+Sophocles was the work of the evil spirit; that Terence was
+excommunicated _ipso facto_; and added that doubtless Brutus, who was
+a very severe Jansenist, assassinated Julius Cæsar for no other reason
+but because he, who was Pontifex Maximus, presumed to write a tragedy
+the subject of which was "Oepidus." Lastly, he declared that all who
+frequented the theater were excommunicated, as they thereby renounced
+their baptism. This was casting the highest insult on the king and all
+the royal family; and as the English loved their prince at that time,
+they could not bear to hear a writer talk of excommunicating him, tho
+they themselves afterward cut his head off. Prynne was summoned to
+appear before the Star Chamber; his wonderful book, from which Father
+Lebrun stole his, was sentenced to be burned by the common hangman,
+and himself to lose his ears.[45] His trial is now extant.
+
+[Footnote 45: William Prynne, lawyer, pamphleteer, and statesman, was
+born in 1600, and died in 1669. Prynne in 1648 was released from
+imprisonment by the Long Parliament and obtained a seat in the House
+of Commons where he took up the cause of the king. Later, in the
+Cromwellian period, he was arrested and again imprisoned, but was
+released in 1652, and, after the accession of Charles II, was made
+keeper of the records in the Tower.]
+
+The Italians are far from attempting to cast a blemish on the opera,
+or to excommunicate Sigñor Senesino or Signora Cuzzoni. With regard to
+myself, I could presume to wish that the magistrates would suppress I
+know not what contemptible pieces written against the stage. For when
+the English and Italians hear that we brand with the greatest mark of
+infamy an art in which we excel; that we excommunicate persons who
+receive salaries from the king; that we condemn as impious a spectacle
+exhibited in convents and monasteries; that we dishonor sports in
+which Louis XIV and Louis XV performed as actors; that we give the
+title of the devil's works to pieces which are received by magistrates
+of the most severe character, and represented before a virtuous queen;
+when, I say, foreigners are told of this insolent conduct, this
+contempt for the royal authority, and this Gothic rusticity which some
+presume to call Christian severity, what idea must they entertain of
+our nation? And how will it be possible for them to conceive, either
+that our laws give a sanction to an art which is declared infamous, or
+that some persons dare to stamp with infamy an art which receives a
+sanction from the laws, is rewarded by kings, cultivated and
+encouraged by the greatest men, and admired by whole nations? And that
+Father Lebrun's impertinent libel against the stage is seen in a
+bookseller's shop, standing the very next to the immortal labors of
+Racine, of Corneille, of Molière, etc.?
+
+
+
+
+JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
+
+ Born in Geneva in 1712, died near Paris in 1778; his father
+ a mender of watches and teacher of dancing; lived from hand
+ to mouth until he was thirty-eight; achieved his first
+ literary reputation from a prize competition in 1749;
+ published "Le Devin du Village" in 1752, "La Nouvelle
+ Hèloise" in 1761, "Le Contrat Social" in 1762, "Emile" in
+ 1762; the latter work led to his exile from France for five
+ years, during which he lived in Switzerland and England; his
+ "Confessions" published after his death in 1782; was the
+ father of five illegitimate children, each of whom he sent
+ to a foundling asylum.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF CHRIST AND SOCRATES
+
+
+I will confess that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with
+admiration, as the purity of the Gospel hath its influence on my
+heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers with all their pomp of
+diction; how mean, how contemptible are they compared with the
+Scriptures! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and sublime,
+should be merely the work of man? Is it possible that the sacred
+personage, whose history it contains, should be himself a mere man? Do
+we find that He assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious
+sectary? What sweetness, what purity in His manner! What an affecting
+gracefulness in His delivery! What sublimity in His maxims! what
+profound wisdom in His discourses? What presence of mind, what
+subtlety, what truth in His replies! How great the command over His
+passions! Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could so live,
+and so die, without weakness, and without ostentation? When Plato
+described his imaginary good man loaded with all the shame of guilt,
+yet meriting the highest rewards of virtue, he describes exactly the
+character of Jesus Christ: the resemblance was so striking that all
+the Fathers perceived it.
+
+What prepossession, what blindness must it be to compare the son of
+Sophronicus to the son of Mary! What an infinite disproportion there
+is between them! Socrates dying without pain or ignominy, easily
+supported his character to the last; and if his death, however easy,
+had not crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether Socrates,
+with all his wisdom, was anything more than a vain sophist. He
+invented, it is said, the theory of morals. Others, however, had
+before put them in practise; he had only to say, therefore, what they
+had done, and to reduce their examples to precepts. Aristides had been
+just before Socrates defined justice; Leonidas had given up his life
+for his country before Socrates declared patriotism to be a duty; the
+Spartans were a sober people before Socrates recommended sobriety;
+before he had even defined virtue Greece abounded in virtuous men.
+
+But where could Jesus learn, among His competitors, that pure and
+sublime morality, of which He only hath given us both precept and
+example? The greatest wisdom was made known amongst the most bigoted
+fanaticism, and the simplicity of the most heroic virtues did honor to
+the vilest people on earth. The death of Socrates, peaceably
+philosophizing with his friends, appears the most agreeable that could
+be wished for; that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing
+pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is the most
+horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of
+poison, blest, indeed, the weeping executioner who administered it;
+but Jesus, in the midst of excruciating torments, prayed for His
+merciless tormentors. Yes, if the life and death of Socrates were
+those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus are those of a God. Shall
+we suppose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed, my friend, it
+bears not the marks of fiction; on the contrary, the history of
+Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as
+that of Jesus Christ. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the
+difficulty without obviating it: it is more inconceivable that a
+number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one
+only should furnish the subject of it. The Jewish authors were
+incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality contained in
+the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so striking and inimitable
+that the inventor would be a more astonishing character than the
+hero.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN[46]
+
+
+I have thought that the most essential part in the education of
+children, and which is seldom regarded in the best families, is to
+make them sensible of their inability, weakness, and dependence, and,
+as my husband called it, the heavy yoke of that necessity which nature
+has imposed upon our species; and that, not only in order to show them
+how much is done to alleviate the burden of that yoke, but especially
+to instruct them betimes in what rank Providence has placed them, that
+they may not presume too far above themselves, or be ignorant of the
+reciprocal duties of humanity.
+
+[Footnote 46: From the "New Héloïse." The passage here given is from a
+letter supposed to have been written by a person who was visiting
+Héloïse. One of the earliest English versions of the "New Héloïse"
+appeared in 1784.]
+
+Young people who from their cradle have been brought up in ease and
+effeminacy, who have been caressed by every one, indulged in all their
+caprices, and have been used to obtain easily everything they desired,
+enter upon the world with many impertinent prejudices; of which they
+are generally cured by frequent mortifications, affronts, and chagrin.
+Now, I would willingly spare my children this kind of education by
+giving them, at first, a just notion of things. I had indeed once
+resolved to indulge my eldest son in everything he wanted, from a
+persuasion that the first impulses of nature must be good and
+salutary; but I was not long in discovering that children, conceiving
+from such treatment that they have a right to be obeyed, depart from a
+state of nature almost as soon as born--contracting our vices from our
+example, and theirs by our indiscretion. I saw that if I indulged him
+in all his humors they would only increase by such indulgence; that it
+was necessary to stop at some point, and that contradiction would be
+but the more mortifying as he should be less accustomed to it; but,
+that it might be less painful to him, I began to use it upon him by
+degrees, and in order to prevent his tears and lamentations I made
+every denial irrevocable.
+
+It is true, I contradict him as little as possible, and never without
+due consideration. Whatever is given or permitted him is done
+unconditionally and at the first instance; and in this we are
+indulgent enough; but he never gets anything by importunity, neither
+his tears nor entreaties being of any effect. Of this he is now so
+well convinced that he makes no use of them; he goes his way on the
+first word, and frets himself no more at seeing a box of sweetmeats
+taken away from him than at seeing a bird fly away which he would be
+glad to catch, there appearing to him the same impossibility of having
+the one as the other; and, so far from beating the chairs and tables,
+he dares not lift his hand against those who oppose him. In everything
+that displeases him he feels the weight of necessity, the effect of
+his own weakness.
+
+The great cause of the ill humor of children is the care which is
+taken either to quiet or to aggravate them. They will sometimes cry
+for an hour for no other reason in the world than because they
+perceive we would not have them. So long as we take notice of their
+crying, so long have they a reason for continuing to cry; but they
+will soon give over of themselves when they see no notice is taken of
+them; for, old or young, nobody loves to throw away his trouble. This
+is exactly the case with my eldest boy, who was once the most peevish
+little bawler, stunning the whole house with his cries; whereas now
+you can hardly hear there is a child in the house. He cries, indeed,
+when he is in pain; but then it is the voice of nature, which should
+never be restrained; and he is again hushed as soon as ever the pain
+is over. For this reason I pay great attention to his tears, as I am
+certain he never sheds them for nothing; and hence I have gained the
+advantage of being certain when he is in pain and when not; when he is
+well and when sick; an advantage which is lost with those who cry out
+of mere humor and only in order to be appeased. I must confess,
+however, that this management is not to be expected from nurses and
+governesses; for as nothing is more tiresome than to hear a child cry,
+and as these good women think of nothing but the time present, they do
+not foresee that by quieting it to-day it will cry the more to-morrow.
+But, what is still worse, this indulgence produces an obstinacy which
+is of more consequence as the child grows up. The very cause that
+makes it a squaller at three years of age will make it stubborn and
+refractory at twelve, quarrelsome at twenty, imperious and insolent at
+thirty, and insupportable all its life.
+
+In every indulgence granted to children they can easily see our desire
+to please them, and therefore they should be taught to suppose we have
+reason for refusing or complying with their requests. This is another
+advantage gained by making use of authority, rather than persuasion,
+on every necessary occasion. For, as it is impossible they can be
+always blind to our motives, it is natural for them to imagine that we
+have some reason for contradicting them, of which, they are ignorant.
+On the contrary, when we have once submitted to their judgment, they
+will pretend to judge of everything, and thus become cunning,
+deceitful, fruitful in shifts and chicanery, endeavoring to silence
+those who are weak enough to argue with them; for when one is obliged
+to give them an account of things above their comprehension, they
+attribute the most prudent conduct to caprice, because they are
+incapable of understanding it. In a word, the only way to render
+children docile and capable of reasoning is not to reason with them at
+all, but to convince them that it is above their childish capacities;
+for they will always suppose the argument in their favor unless you
+can give them good cause to think otherwise. They know very well that
+we are unwilling to displease them, when they are certain of our
+affection; and children are seldom mistaken in this particular:
+therefore, if I deny anything to my children, I never reason with
+them, I never tell them why I do so and so; but I endeavor, as much as
+possible, that they should find it out, and that even after the affair
+is over. By these means they are accustomed to think that I never
+deny them anything without a sufficient reason, tho they can not
+always see it.
+
+On the same principle it is that I never suffer my children to join in
+the conversation of grown people, or foolishly imagine themselves on
+an equality with them, because they are permitted to prattle. I would
+have them give a short and modest answer when they are spoken to, but
+never to speak of their own head, or ask impertinent questions of
+persons so much older than themselves, to whom they ought to show more
+respect....
+
+What can a child think of himself when he sees a circle of sensible
+people listening to, admiring, and waiting impatiently for his wit,
+and breaking out in raptures at every impertinent expression? Such
+false applause is enough to turn the head of a grown person; judge,
+then, what effect it must have upon that of a child. It is with the
+prattle of children as with the prediction in the almanac. It would be
+strange if, amidst such a number of idle words, chance did not now and
+then jumble some of them into sense. Imagine the effect which such
+flattering exclamations must have on a simple mother, already too much
+flattered by her own heart. Think not, however, that I am proof
+against this error because I expose it. No, I see the fault, and yet
+am guilty of it. But, if I sometimes admire the repartees of my son, I
+do it at least in secret. He will not learn to become a vain prater by
+hearing me applaud him, nor will flatterers have the pleasure, in
+making me repeat them, of laughing at my weakness.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE STAËL
+
+ Born in Paris, 1763, died there in 1817; daughter of Necker,
+ the Minister of Finance, and Susanne Courchod, the
+ sweetheart of Gibbon; married to the Baron of
+ Staël-Holstein, the Swedish ambassador to France, in 1786;
+ lived in Germany in 1803-04; traveled in Italy in 1805;
+ published "Corinne" in 1807; returned to Germany in 1808;
+ and finished "De l'Allemagne," the first edition of which
+ was destroyed, probably at the instigation of Napoleon, who
+ became her bitter enemy; exiled from France by Napoleon in
+ 1812-14.
+
+
+
+
+OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE[47]
+
+
+General Bonaparte made himself as conspicuous by his character and his
+intellect as by his victories; and the imagination of the French began
+to be touched by him [1797]. His proclamations to the Cisalpine and
+Ligurian republics were talked of.... A tone of moderation and of
+dignity pervaded his style, which contrasted with the revolutionary
+harshness of the civil rulers of France. The warrior spoke in those
+days like a lawgiver, while the lawgivers exprest themselves with
+soldier-like violence. General Bonaparte had not executed in his army
+the decrees against the émigrés. It was said that he loved his wife,
+whose character is full of sweetness; it was asserted that he felt
+the beauties of Ossian; it was a pleasure to attribute to him all the
+generous qualities that form a noble background for extraordinary
+abilities....
+
+[Footnote 47: From "Considerations on the French Revolution." This
+work was not published until 1818, three years after the exile of
+Napoleon to St. Helena. An English translation appeared in 1819.]
+
+Such at least was my own mood when I saw him for the first time in
+Paris. I could find no words with which to reply to him when he came
+to me to tell me that he had tried to visit my father at Coppet, and
+that he was sorry to have passed through Switzerland without seeing
+him. But when I had somewhat recovered from the agitation of
+admiration, it was followed by a feeling of very marked fear.
+Bonaparte then had no power: he was thought even to be more or less in
+danger from the vague suspiciousness of the Directory; so that the
+fear he inspired was caused only by the singular effect of his
+personality upon almost every one who had intercourse with him. I had
+seen men worthy of high respect; I had also seen ferocious men: there
+was nothing in the impression Bonaparte produced upon me which could
+remind me of men of either type. I soon perceived, on the different
+occasions when I met him during his stay in Paris, that his character
+could not be defined by the words we are accustomed to make use of: he
+was neither kindly nor violent, neither gentle nor cruel, after the
+fashion of other men. Such a being, so unlike others, could neither
+excite nor feel sympathy: he was more or less than man. His bearing,
+his mind, his language have the marks of a foreigner's nature--an
+advantage the more in subjugating Frenchmen....
+
+Far from being reassured by seeing Bonaparte often, he always
+intimidated me more and more. I felt vaguely that no emotional feeling
+could influence him. He regards a human creature as a fact or a thing,
+but not as an existence like his own. He feels no more hate than love.
+For him there is no one but himself: all other creatures are mere
+ciphers. The force of his will consists in the imperturbable
+calculations of his egotism: he is an able chess-player whose opponent
+is all humankind, whom he intends to checkmate. His success is due as
+much to the qualities he lacks as to the talents he possesses. Neither
+pity, nor sympathy, nor religion, nor attachment to any idea
+whatsoever would have power to turn him from his path. He has the same
+devotion to his own interests that a good man has to virtue: if the
+object were noble, his persistency would be admirable.
+
+Every time that I heard him talk I was struck by his superiority; it
+was of a kind, however, that had no relation to that of men instructed
+and cultivated by study, or by society, such as England and France
+possess examples of. But his conversation indicated that quick
+perception of circumstances the hunter has in pursuing his prey.
+Sometimes he related the political and military events of his life in
+a very interesting manner; he had even, in narratives that admitted
+gaiety, a touch of Italian imagination. Nothing, however, could
+conquer my invincible alienation from what I perceived in him. I saw
+in his soul a cold and cutting sword, which froze while wounding; I
+saw in his mind a profound irony, from which nothing fine or noble
+could escape not even his own glory: for he despised the nation whose
+suffrages he desired; and no spark of enthusiasm mingled with his
+craving to astonish the human race....
+
+His face, thin and pale at that time, was very agreeable: since then
+he has gained flesh--which does not become him; for one needs to
+believe such a man to be tormented by his own character, at all to
+tolerate the sufferings this character causes others. As his stature
+is short, and yet his waist very long, he appeared to much greater
+advantage on horseback than on foot; in all ways it is war, and war
+only, he is fitted for. His manner in society is constrained without
+being timid; it is disdainful when he is on his guard, and vulgar when
+he is at ease; his air of disdain suits him best, and so he is not
+sparing in the use of it. He took pleasure already in the part of
+embarrassing people by saying disagreeable things: an art which he has
+since made a system of, as of all other methods of subjugating men by
+degrading them.
+
+
+
+
+VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND
+
+ Born in France in 1768, died in 1848; entered the French
+ army in 1786; traveled in America in 1791-92; emigrated to
+ England, where in 1797 he published his "Essai Historique,
+ Politique et Moral"; returned to France in 1800; converted
+ to the Catholic faith through the death of his mother;
+ published in 1802 "The Genius of Christianity"; made
+ secretary of legation in Rome by Napoleon in 1803, and later
+ minister to the republic of Valais, but resigned in 1804
+ after the execution of the Duke of Enghien; supported the
+ Bourbons in 1814; made a peer of France in 1815; ambassador
+ to England in 1822; Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1823;
+ published his "Memoirs" in 1849-50.
+
+
+
+
+IN AN AMERICAN FOREST[48]
+
+
+When, in my journeys among the Indian tribes of Canada, I left
+European dwellings, and found myself, for the first time, alone in the
+midst of an ocean of forests, having, so to speak, all nature
+prostrate at my feet, a strange change took place within me. In the
+kind of delirium which seized me, I followed no road; I went from tree
+to tree, now to the right, now to the left, saying to myself, "Here
+there are no more roads to follow, no more towns, no more narrow
+houses, no more presidents, republics, or kings--above all, no more
+laws, and no more men." Men! Yes, some good savages, who cared nothing
+for me, nor I for them; who, like me, wandered freely wherever their
+fancy led them, eating when they felt inclined, sleeping when and
+where they pleased. And, in order to see if I were really established
+in my original rights, I gave myself up to a thousand acts of
+eccentricity, which enraged the tall Dutchman who was my guide, and
+who, in his heart, thought I was mad.
+
+[Footnote 48: From the "Essay on Revolutions." While in America,
+Chateaubriand visited Canada, traveling inland through the United
+States from Niagara to Florida. He arrived home in Paris at the time
+of the execution of Louis XVI. His "Essay on Revolutions" was
+published five years later.]
+
+Escaped from the tyrannous yoke of society, I understood then the
+charms of that independence of nature which far surpasses all the
+pleasures of which civilized man can form any idea. I understood why
+not one savage has become a European, and why many Europeans have
+become savages; why the sublime "Discourse on the Inequality of Rank"
+is so little understood by the most part of our philosophers. It is
+incredible how small and diminished the nations and their most boasted
+institutions appeared in my eyes; it seemed to me as if I saw the
+kingdoms of the earth through an inverted spy-glass, or rather that,
+being myself grown and elevated, I looked down on the rest of my
+degenerate race with the eye of a giant.
+
+You who wish to write about men, go into the deserts, become for a
+moment the child of nature, and then--and then only--take up the pen.
+
+Among the innumerable enjoyments of this journey one especially made a
+vivid impression on my mind.
+
+I was going then to see the famous cataract of Niagara, and I had
+taken my way through the Indian tribes who inhabit the deserts to the
+west of the American plantations. My guides were--the sun, a
+pocket-compass, and the Dutchman of whom I have spoken: the latter
+understood perfectly five dialects of the Huron language. Our train
+consisted of two horses, which we let loose in the forests at night,
+after fastening a bell to their necks. I was at first a little afraid
+of losing them, but my guide reassured me by pointing out that, by a
+wonderful instinct, these good animals never wandered out of sight of
+our fire.
+
+One evening, when, as we calculated that we were only about eight or
+nine leagues from the cataract, we were preparing to dismount before
+sunset, in order to build our hut and light our watch-fire after the
+Indian fashion, we perceived in the wood the fires of some savages who
+were encamped a little lower down on the shores of the same stream as
+we were. We went to them. The Dutchman having by my orders asked their
+permission for us to pass the night with them, which was granted
+immediately, we set to work with our hosts. After having cut down some
+branches, planted some stakes, torn off some bark to cover our palace,
+and performed some other public offices, each of us attended to his
+own affairs. I brought my saddle, which served me well for a pillow
+all through my travels; the guide rubbed down the horses; and as to
+his night accommodation, since he was not so particular as I am, he
+generally made use of the dry trunk of a tree. Work being done, we
+seated ourselves in a circle, with our legs crossed like tailors,
+around the immense fire, to roast our heads of maize, and to prepare
+supper. I had still a flask of brandy, which served to enliven our
+savages not a little. They found out that they had some bear hams, and
+we began a royal feast.
+
+The family consisted of two women, with infants at their breasts, and
+three warriors; two of them might be from forty to forty-five years of
+age, altho they appeared much older, and the third was a young man.
+
+The conversation soon became general; that is to say, on my side it
+consisted of broken words and many gestures--an expressive language,
+which these nations understand remarkably well, and that I had learned
+among them. The young man alone preserved an obstinate silence; he
+kept his eyes constantly fixt on me. In spite of the black, red, and
+blue stripes, cut ears, and the pearl hanging from his nose, with
+which he was disfigured, it was easy to see the nobility and
+sensibility which animated his countenance. How well I knew he was
+inclined not to love me! It seemed to me as if he were reading in his
+heart the history of all the wrongs which Europeans have inflicted on
+his native country. The two children, quite naked, were asleep at our
+feet before the fire; the women took them quietly into their arms and
+put them to bed among the skins, with a mother's tenderness so
+delightful to witness in these so-called savages: the conversation
+died away by degrees, and each fell asleep in the place where he was.
+
+I alone could not close my eyes, hearing on all sides the deep
+breathing of my hosts. I raised my head, and, supporting myself on my
+elbow, watched by the red light of the expiring fire the Indians
+stretched around me and plunged in sleep. I confess that I could
+hardly refrain from tears. Brave youth, how your peaceful sleep
+affects me! You, who seemed so sensible of the woes of your native
+land, you were too great, too high-minded to mistrust the foreigner!
+Europeans, what a lesson for you! These same savages whom we have
+pursued with fire and sword, to whom our avarice would not leave a
+spadeful of earth to cover their corpses in all this world, formerly
+their vast patrimony--these same savages receiving their enemy into
+their hospitable hut, sharing with him their miserable meal, and,
+their couch undisturbed by remorse, sleeping close to him the calm
+sleep of the innocent. These virtues are as much above the virtues of
+conventional life as the soul of tho man in his natural state is above
+that of the man in society.
+
+It was moonlight. Feverish with thinking, I got up and seated myself
+at a little distance on a root which ran along the edge of the
+streamlet: it was one of those American nights which the pencil of man
+can never represent, and the remembrance of which I have a hundred
+times recalled with delight.
+
+The moon was at the highest point of the heavens; here and there at
+wide, clear intervals twinkled a thousand stars. Sometimes the moon
+rested on a group of clouds which looked like the summit of high
+mountains crowned with snow: little by little these clouds grew
+longer, and rolled out into transparent and waving zones of white
+satin, or transformed themselves into light flakes of froth, into
+innumerable wandering flocks in the blue plains of the firmament.
+Another time the arch of heaven seemed changed into a shore on which
+one could discover horizontal rows, parallel lines such as are made by
+the regular ebb and flow of the sea; a gust of wind tore this veil
+again, and everywhere appeared in the sky great banks of dazzlingly
+white down, so soft to the eye that one seemed to feel their softness
+and elasticity. The scene on the earth was not less delightful: the
+silvery and velvety light of the moon floated silently over the top of
+the forests, and at intervals went down among the trees, casting rays
+of light even through the deepest shadows. The narrow brook which
+flowed at my feet, burying itself from time to time among the thickets
+of oak-, willow-, and sugar-trees, and reappearing a little farther
+off in the glades, all sparkling with the constellations of the night,
+seemed like a ribbon of azure silk spotted with diamond stars and
+striped with black bands. On the other side of the river, in a wide,
+natural meadow, the moonlight rested quietly on the pastures, where it
+was spread out like a sheet. Some birch-trees scattered here and there
+over the savannas, sometimes blending, according to the caprice of the
+winds, with the background, seemed to surround themselves with a pale
+gauze--sometimes rising up again from their chalky foundations, hidden
+in the darkness, formed, as it were, islands of floating shadows on an
+immovable sea of light. Near all was silence and repose, except the
+falling of the leaves, the rough passing of a sudden wind, the rare
+and interrupted whooping of the gray owl; but in the distance at
+intervals one heard the solemn rolling of the cataract of Niagara,
+which in the calm of the night echoed from desert to desert and died
+away in solitary forests.
+
+The grandeur, the astonishing melancholy of this picture can not be
+exprest in human language: the most beautiful nights in Europe can
+give no idea of it. In the midst of our cultivated fields the
+imagination vainly seeks to expand itself; everywhere it meets with
+the dwellings of man; but in these desert countries the soul delights
+in penetrating and losing itself in these eternal forests; it loves to
+wander by the light of the moon on the borders of immense lakes, to
+hover over the roaring gulf of terrible cataracts, to fall with the
+masses of water, and, so to speak, mix and blend itself with a sublime
+and savage nature. These enjoyments are too keen; such is our weakness
+that exquisite pleasures become griefs, as if nature feared that we
+should forget that we are men. Absorbed in my existence, or rather
+drawn quite out of myself, having neither feeling nor distinct
+thought, but an indescribable I know not what, which was like that
+happiness which they say we shall enjoy in the other life, I was all
+at once recalled to this. I felt unwell, and perceived that I must not
+linger. I returned to our encampment, where, lying down by the
+savages, I soon fell into a deep sleep.
+
+
+
+
+FRANÇOIS GUIZOT
+
+ Born in France in 1787, died in 1874; became a professor of
+ literature in 1812, and later of modern history at the
+ Sorbonne; published his "History of Civilization" in
+ 1828-1830; elected to the Chamber of Deputies in 1830;
+ Minister of the Interior, 1830; Ambassador to England, in
+ 1840; returning, entered the Cabinet where he remained until
+ 1848, being at one time Prime Minister; after 1848 went into
+ retirement and published books frequently until his death.
+
+
+
+
+SHAKESPEARE AS AN EXAMPLE OF CIVILIZATION[49]
+
+
+Voltaire was the first person in France who spoke of Shakespeare's
+genius;[50] and altho he spoke of him merely as a barbarian genius,
+the French public were of opinion that Voltaire had said too much in
+his favor. Indeed, they thought it nothing less than profanation to
+apply the words "genius" and "glory" to dramas which they considered
+as crude as they were coarse.
+
+[Footnote 49: From "Shakespeare and His Times."]
+
+[Footnote 50: Voltaire's references to Shakespeare were made in his
+"Letters on England." From them dates the beginning of French interest
+in the English poet.]
+
+At the present day all controversy regarding Shakespeare's genius and
+glory has come to an end. No one ventures any longer to dispute them;
+but a greater question has arisen--namely, whether Shakespeare's
+dramatic system is not far superior to that of Voltaire. This question
+I do not presume to decide. I merely say that it is now open for
+discussion. We have been led to it by the onward progress of ideas. I
+shall endeavor to point out the causes which have brought it about;
+but at present I insist merely upon the fact itself, and deduce from
+it one simple consequence, that literary criticism has changed its
+ground, and can no longer remain restricted to the limits within which
+it was formerly confined.
+
+Literature does not escape from the revolutions of the human mind; it
+is compelled to follow it in its course, to transport itself beneath
+the horizon under which it is conveyed, to gain elevation and
+extension with the ideas which occupy its notice, and to consider the
+questions which it discusses under the new aspects and novel
+circumstances in which they are placed by the new state of thought and
+of society....
+
+When we embrace human destiny in all its aspects, and human nature in
+all the conditions of man upon earth, we enter into possession of an
+exhaustless treasure. It is the peculiar advantage of such a system
+that it escapes, by its extent, from the dominion of any particular
+genius. We may discover its principles in Shakespeare's works; but he
+was not fully acquainted with them, nor did he always respect them. He
+should serve as an example, not as a model. Some men, even of superior
+talent, have attempted to write plays according to Shakespeare's
+taste, without perceiving that they were deficient in one important
+qualification for the task; and that was to write as he did, to write
+them for our age just as Shakespeare's plays were written for the age
+in which he lived. This is an enterprise the difficulties of which
+have, hitherto, perhaps, been maturely considered by no one.
+
+We have seen how much art and effort were employed by Shakespeare to
+surmount those which are inherent in his system. They are still
+greater in our times, and would unveil themselves much more completely
+to the spirit of criticism which now accompanies the boldest essays of
+genius. It is not only with spectators of more fastidious taste and of
+more idle and inattentive imagination that the poet would have to do
+who should venture to follow in Shakespeare's footsteps. He would be
+called upon to give movement to personages embarrassed in much more
+complicated interests, preoccupied with much more various feelings,
+and subject to less simple habits of mind and to less decided
+tendencies. Neither science, nor reflection, nor the scruples of
+conscience, nor the uncertainties of thought frequently encumber
+Shakespeare's heroes; doubt is of little use among them, and the
+violence of their passions speedily transfers their belief to the side
+of the desires, or sets their actions above their belief. Hamlet alone
+presents the confused spectacle of a mind formed by the enlightenment
+of society in conflict with a position contrary to its laws; and he
+needs a supernatural apparition to determine him to act, and a
+fortuitous event to accomplish his project. If incessantly placed in
+an analogous position, the personages of a tragedy conceived at the
+present day according to the romantic system would offer us the same
+picture of indecision. Ideas now crowd and intersect each other in the
+mind of man, duties multiply in his conscience and obstacles and bonds
+around his life. Instead of those electric brains, prompt to
+communicate the spark which they have received; instead of those
+ardent and simple-minded men, whose projects like Macbeth's "will to
+hand"--the world now presents to the poet minds like Hamlet's, deep in
+the observation of those inward conflicts which our classical system
+has derived from a state of society more advanced than that of the
+time in which Shakespeare lived. So many feelings, interests, and
+ideas, the necessary consequences of modern civilization, might become
+even in their simplest form of expression a troublesome burden, which
+it would be difficult to carry through the rapid evolutions and bold
+advances of the romantic system.
+
+We must, however, satisfy every demand; success itself requires it.
+The reason must be contented at the same time that the imagination is
+occupied. The progress of taste, of enlightenment, of society, and of
+mankind, must serve not to diminish or disturb our enjoyment, but to
+render them worthy of ourselves and capable of supplying the new wants
+which we have contracted. Advance without rule and art in the romantic
+system, and you will produce melodramas calculated to excite a passing
+emotion in the multitude, but in the multitude alone, and for a few
+days; just as by dragging along without originality in the classical
+system you will satisfy only that cold literary class who are
+acquainted with nothing in nature which is more important than the
+interests of versification, or more imposing than the three unities.
+This is not the work of the poet who is called to power and destined
+for glory: he acts upon a grander scale, and can address the superior
+intellects as well as the general and simple faculties of all men. It
+is doubtless necessary that the crowd should throng to behold those
+dramatic works of which you desire to make a national spectacle; but
+do not hope to become national, if you do not unite in your
+festivities all those classes of persons and minds whose well-arranged
+hierarchy raises a nation to its loftiest dignity. Genius is bound to
+follow human nature in all its developments; its strength consists in
+finding within itself the means for constantly satisfying the whole of
+the public. The same task is now imposed upon government and upon
+poetry: both should exist for all, and suffice at once for the wants
+of the masses and for the requirements of the most exalted minds.
+
+Doubtless stopt in its course by these conditions, the full severity
+of which will only be revealed to the talent that can comply with
+them, dramatic art, even in England, where under the protection of
+Shakespeare it would have liberty to attempt anything, scarcely
+ventures at the present day even to try timidly to follow him.
+Meanwhile England, France, and the whole of Europe demand of the drama
+pleasures and emotions that can no longer be supplied by the inanimate
+representation of a world that has ceased to exist. The classical
+system had its origin in the life of its time: that time has passed;
+its image subsists in brilliant colors in its works, but can no more
+be reproduced. Near the monuments of past ages, the monuments of
+another age are now beginning to arise. What will be their form? I can
+not tell; but the ground upon which their foundations may rest is
+already perceptible.
+
+This ground is not the ground of Corneille and Racine, nor is it that
+of Shakespeare; it is our own; but Shakespeare's system, as it appears
+to me, may furnish the plans according to which genius ought now to
+work. This system alone includes all those social conditions and all
+those general or diverse feelings, the simultaneous conjunction and
+activity of which constitute for us at the present day the spectacle
+of human things. Witnesses during thirty years of the greatest
+revolutions of society, we shall no longer willingly confine the
+movement of our mind within the narrow space of some family event, or
+the agitations of a purely individual passion. The nature and destiny
+of man have appeared to us under their most striking and their
+simplest aspect, in all their extent and in all their variableness. We
+require pictures in which this spectacle is reproduced, in which man
+is displayed in his completeness and excites our entire sympathy.
+
+
+
+
+ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE
+
+ Born in 1790, died in 1869; famous chiefly as a poet, being
+ one of the greatest in modern France, but successful as an
+ orator and prominent in political life during the troubled
+ period of 1848, when he was Minister of Foreign Affairs;
+ author of several historical works, among them the "History
+ of the Girondists."
+
+
+
+
+OF MIRABEAU'S ORIGIN AND PLACE IN HISTORY[51]
+
+
+He was born a gentleman and of ancient lineage, refugees established
+in Provence, but of Italian origin. The progenitors were Tuscan. The
+family was one of those whom Florence had cast from her bosom in the
+stormy excesses of her liberty, and for which Dante reproaches his
+country in such bitter strains for her exiles and prosecutions. The
+blood of Machiavelli and the earthquake genius of the Italian
+republics were characteristics of all the individuals of this race.
+The proportions of their souls exceed the height of their destiny:
+vices, passions, virtues are all in excess. The women are all angelic
+or perverse, the men sublime or depraved, and their language even is
+as emphatic and lofty as their aspirations. There is in their most
+familiar correspondence the color and tone of the heroic tongues of
+Italy.
+
+[Footnote 51: From Book I of the "History of the Girondists"--the
+translation of R. T. Ryde in Bonn's Library, as revised for this
+collection.]
+
+The ancestors of Mirabeau speak of their domestic affairs as Plutarch
+of the quarrels of Marius and Sulla, of Cæsar and Pompey. We perceive
+the great men descending to trifling matters. Mirabeau inspired this
+domestic majesty and virility in his very cradle. I dwell on these
+details, which may seem foreign to this history, but they explain it.
+The source of genius is often in ancestry, and the blood of descent is
+sometimes the prophecy of destiny.
+
+Mirabeau's education was as rough and rude as the hand of his father,
+who was styled the friend of man, but whose restless spirit and
+selfish vanity rendered him the persecutor of his wife and the tyrant
+of all his family. The only virtue he was taught was honor, for by
+that name in those days they dignified that ceremonious demeanor which
+was too frequently only the show of probity and the elegance of vice.
+Entering the army at an early age, he acquired nothing of military
+habits except a love of licentiousness and play. The hand of his
+father was constantly extended not to aid him in rising, but to
+depress him still lower under the consequences of his errors. His
+youth was passed in the prisons of the state, where his passions,
+becoming envenomed by solitude, and his intellect rendered more acute
+by contact with the irons of his dungeon, his mind lost that modesty
+which rarely survives the infamy of precocious punishments.
+
+Released from jail, in order, by his father's command, to attempt to
+form a marriage beset with difficulties with Mademoiselle de Marignan,
+a rich heiress of one of the greatest families of Provence, he
+displayed, like a wrestler, all kinds of stratagems and daring schemes
+of policy in the small theater of Aix. Not only cunning, seduction,
+and courage, but every resource of his nature was used to succeed, and
+he succeeded; but he was hardly married before fresh persecutions
+beset him, and the stronghold of Pontarlier gaped to enclose him. A
+love, which his "Lettres à Sophie" has rendered immortal, opened its
+gates and freed him. He carried off Madame de Monier from her aged
+husband. The lovers, happy for some months, took refuge in Holland;
+they were seized there, separated and shut up, the one in a convent
+and the other in the dungeon of Vincennes.
+
+Love, which, like fire in the veins of the earth, is always detected
+in some crevice of man's destiny, lighted up in a single and ardent
+blaze all the passions of Mirabeau. In his vengeance it was outraged
+love that he appeased; in liberty it was love which he sought and
+which delivered him; in study it was love which still illustrated his
+path. Entering his cell an obscure man, he quitted it a writer,
+orator, statesman, but perverted--ripe for anything, even ready to
+sell himself, in order to buy fortune and celebrity. The drama of life
+had been conceived in his head; he wanted only the stage, and that was
+being prepared for him by time. During the few short years which
+elapsed between his leaving the keep of Vincennes and the tribune of
+the National Assembly, he employed himself with polemic labors which
+would have weighed down another man, but which only kept Mirabeau in
+health. Such topics as the bank of Saint Charles, the institutions of
+Holland, the books on Prussia, with Beaumarchais (his style and
+character), with lengthened pleadings on questions of warfare, the
+balance of European power, finance, leading to biting invectives and
+wars of words with the ministers of the hour, made scenes that
+resembled those in the Roman forum of the days of Clodius and Cicero.
+We discern the men of antiquity even in his most modern controversies.
+We may hear the first roarings or popular tumults which were so soon
+to burst forth, and which his voice was destined to control.
+
+At the first election of Aix, when rejected with contempt by the
+noblesse, he cast himself into the arms of the people, certain of
+making the balance incline to the side on which he should cast the
+weight of his daring and his genius. Marseilles contended with Aix for
+the great plebeian; his two elections, the discourses he then
+delivered, the addresses he drew up, the energy he employed commanded
+the attention of all France. His sonorous phrases became the proverbs
+of the Revolution. Comparing himself, in his lofty language, to the
+men of antiquity, he placed himself already in the public estimation
+in the elevated position he aspired to reach. Men became accustomed to
+identify him with the names he cited; he made a loud noise in order to
+prepare minds for great commotions; he announced himself proudly to
+the nation, in that sublime apostrophe in his address to the
+Marseillais: "When the last of the Gracchi expired, he flung dust
+toward heaven, and from this dust sprang Marius!--Marius, who was less
+great for having exterminated the Cimbri than for having prostrated
+in Rome the aristocracy of the nobility."
+
+From the moment of his entry into the National Assembly Mirabeau
+filled it: he became the whole people. His gestures were commands; his
+movements _coups d'etat_. He placed himself on a level with the
+throne, and the nobility itself felt itself subdued by a power
+emanating from its own body. The clergy, and the people, with their
+desires to reconcile democracy with the church, lent him their
+influence, in order to destroy the double aristocracy of the nobility
+and bishops.
+
+All that had been built by antiquity and cemented by ages fell in a
+few months. Mirabeau alone preserved his presence of mind in the midst
+of ruin. His character of tribune then ceased, that of the statesman
+began, and in this part he was even greater than in the other. There,
+when all else crept and crawled, he acted with firmness, advancing
+boldly. The Revolution in his brain was no longer a momentary idea--it
+became a settled plan. The philosophy of the eighteenth century,
+moderated by the prudence of policy, flowed easily from his lips. His
+eloquence, imperative as the law, was now a talent for giving force to
+reason. His language lighted and inspired everything; and tho almost
+alone at this moment, he had the courage to remain alone. He braved
+envy, hatred, murmurs, supported as he was by a strong feeling of his
+superiority. He dismissed with disdain the passions which had hitherto
+beset him. He would no longer serve them when his cause no longer
+needed them. He spoke to men now only in the name of his genius, a
+title which was enough to cause obedience to him....
+
+The characteristic of his genius, so well defined, so ill understood,
+was less audacity than justness. Beneath the grandeur of his
+expression was always to be found unfailing good sense. His very vices
+could not repress the clearness, the sincerity of his understanding.
+At the foot of the tribune, he was a man devoid of shame or virtue: in
+the tribune, he was an honest man. Abandoned to private debauchery,
+bought over by foreign powers, sold to the court in order to satisfy
+his lavish expenditures, he preserved, amidst all this infamous
+traffic of his powers, the incorruptibility of his genius. Of all the
+qualities of being the great man of an age, Mirabeau was wanting only
+in honesty. The people were not his devotees, but his instruments. His
+faith was in posterity. His conscience existed only in his thought.
+The fanaticism of his ideas was quite human. The chilling materialism
+of his age had crusht in his heart all expansive force, and craving
+for imperishable things. His dying words were: "Sprinkle me with
+perfumes, crown me with flowers, that I may thus enter upon eternal
+sleep." He was especially of his time, and his course bears no impress
+of infinity. Neither his character, his acts, nor his thoughts have
+the brand of immortality. If he had believed, in God, he might have
+died a martyr.
+
+
+
+
+LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS
+
+ Born in 1797, died in 1877; settled in Paris in 1821;
+ published his "History of the French Revolution" in 1823-27;
+ established with Mignet and others the _National_ in 1830,
+ in which he contributed largely to the overthrow of the
+ Bourbons; supported Louis Philippe; became a member of
+ various cabinets, 1832-36; Premier in 1836 and 1840;
+ published his "Consulate and Empire" in 1845-62; arrested by
+ Louis Napoleon in 1851; led the opposition to the Empire in
+ 1863; protested against the war of 1870; conducted the
+ negotiations with Germany for an armistice; chosen chief of
+ the executive power in 1871; negotiated the peace with
+ Germany; supprest the Commune; elected President in 1871,
+ resigning in 1873.
+
+
+
+
+THE BURNING OF MOSCOW[52]
+
+
+At last, having reached the summit of a hill, the army suddenly
+discovered below them, and at no great distance, an immense city
+shining with a thousand colors, surmounted by a host of gilded domes,
+resplendent with light; a singular mixture of woods, lakes, cottages,
+palaces, churches, bell-towers, a town both Gothic and Byzantine,
+realizing all that the Eastern stories relate of the marvels of Asia.
+While the monasteries, flanked with towers, formed the girdle of this
+great city, in the center, raised on an eminence, was a strong
+citadel, a kind of capitol, whence were seen at the same time the
+temples of the Deity and the palaces of the emperors, where above
+embattled walls rose majestic domes, bearing the emblem that
+represents the whole history of Russia and her ambition, the cross
+over the reversed crescent. This citadel was the Kremlin, the ancient
+abode of the Czars.
+
+[Footnote 52: From Book XLIV of the "History of the Consulate and
+Empire." Napoleon's army entered Moscow on September 15, 1812, or
+seven days after the battle of Borodino, "the bloodiest battle of the
+century," the losses on each side having been about 40,000. Napoleon
+had crossed the river Niemen in June of this year with an invading
+army of 400,000 men. When he crossed it again in December, after the
+burning of Moscow, the French numbered only 20,000, The "Consulate and
+Empire" has been translated by D. F. Campbell, F. N. Redhead and N.
+Stapleton.]
+
+The imagination, and the idea of glory, being both excited by this
+magical spectacle, the soldiers raised one shout of "Moscow! Moscow!"
+Those who had remained at the foot of the hill hastened to reach the
+top; for a moment all ranks mingled, and everybody wished to
+contemplate the great capital, toward which we had made such an
+adventurous march. One could not have enough of this dazzling
+spectacle, calculated to awaken so many different feelings. Napoleon
+arrived in his turn, and, struck with what he saw, he--who, like the
+oldest soldiers in the army, had successively visited Cairo, Memphis,
+the Jordan, Milan, Vienna, Berlin, and Madrid--could not help
+experiencing deep emotion.
+
+Arrived at this summit of his glory, from which he was to descend with
+such a rapid step toward the abyss, he experienced a sort of
+intoxication, forgot all the reproaches that his good sense, the only
+conscience of conquerors, had addrest to him for two months, and for a
+moment believed still that his enterprise was a great and marvelous
+one--that to have dared to march from Paris to Smolensk, from Smolensk
+to Moscow, was a great and happy rashness, justified by the event.
+Certain of his glory, he still believed in his good fortune, and his
+lieutenants, as amazed as he, remembering no more their frequent
+discontents during this campaign, gave vent to those victorious
+demonstrations in which they had not indulged at the termination of
+the bloody day of Borodino. This moment of satisfaction, lively and
+short, was one of the most deeply felt in his life. Alas! it was to be
+the last!
+
+Murat received the injunction to march quickly, to avoid all disorder.
+General Durosnel was sent forward to hold communication with the
+authorities, and lead them to the conqueror's feet, who desired to
+receive their homage and calm their fears. M. Denniée was charged to
+go and prepare food and lodging for the army, Murat, galloping at the
+head of the light cavalry, arrived, at length, across the faubourg of
+Drogomilow, at the bridge of the Moskowa. There he found a Russian
+rear-guard, who were retreating, and inquired if there was no officer
+there who knew French. A young Russian, who spoke our language
+correctly, presented himself immediately before this king, whom
+hostile nations knew so well, and asked what he wanted. Murat having
+exprest a wish to know which was the commander of this rear-guard, the
+young Russian pointed out an officer with white hair, clothed in a
+bivouac cloak of long fur. Murat, with his accustomed grace, held out
+his hand to the old officer, who took it eagerly. Thus national hatred
+was silenced before valor.
+
+Murat asked the commander of the enemy's rear-guard if they knew him.
+"Yes," replied the latter, "we have seen enough of you under fire to
+know you." Murat seeming struck with, the long fur mantle, which
+looked as if it would be very comfortable for a bivouac, the old
+officer unfastened it from his shoulders to make him a present of it.
+Murat, receiving it with as much courtesy as it was offered, took a
+beautiful watch and presented it to the enemy's officer, who received
+this present in the same way as his had been accepted. After these
+acts of courtesy, the Russian rear-guard filed off rapidly to give
+ground to our vanguard. The King of Naples, followed by his staff and
+a detachment of cavalry, went down into the streets of Moscow,
+traversed alternately the poorest and the richest quarters, rows of
+wooden houses crowded together, and a succession of splendid palaces
+rising from amidst vast gardens: he found everywhere the most profound
+silence. It seemed as if they were penetrating into a dead city, whose
+inhabitants had suddenly disappeared.
+
+The first sight of it, surprizing as it was, did not remind us of our
+entry into Berlin or Vienna, Nevertheless, the first feeling of terror
+experienced by the inhabitants might explain this solitude. Suddenly
+some distracted individuals appeared; they were some French people,
+belonging to the foreign families settled at Moscow, and asked us in
+the name of heaven to save them from the robbers who had become
+masters of the town. They were well received, but we tried in vain to
+remove their fears. We were conducted to the Kremlin,[53] and had
+hardly arrived in sight of these old walls than we were exposed to a
+discharge of shot. It came from bandits let loose on Moscow by the
+ferocious patriotism of the Count of Rostopchin. These wretched beings
+had invaded the sacred citadel, had seized the guns in the arsenal,
+and were firing on the French who came to disturb them after their few
+hours' reign of anarchy. Several were sabered, and the Kremlin was
+relieved of their presence. But on making inquiry we learned that the
+whole population had fled, except a small number of strangers, or of
+Russians acquainted with the ways of the French and not fearing their
+presence. This news vexed the leaders of our vanguard, who were
+flattering themselves that they would see a whole population coming
+before them, whom they would take pleasure in comforting and filling
+with surprize and gratitude. They made haste to restore some order to
+the different quarters of the town, and to pursue the thieves, who
+thought they should much longer enjoy the prey that the Count of
+Rostopchin had given up to them.
+
+[Footnote 53: The Kremlin is a fortified enclosure within the city and
+containing the imperial palace, three cathedrals, a monastery, convent
+and arsenal. It is surrounded by battlemented walls that date from
+1492. Within the palace are rooms of great size, one of them being 68
+by 200 feet, with a height of more than 60 feet. Many historic events
+in the times of Ivan the Terrible, and Peter the Great, are associated
+with the Kremlin. Among its treasures are the Great Bell, coronation
+robes and the thrones of the old Persian Shah and toe last emperor of
+Constantinople.]
+
+The next morning, September 15, Napoleon made his entry into Moscow,
+at the head of his invincible legions, but he crossed a deserted town,
+and for the first time his soldiers, on entering a capital, found none
+but themselves to be witnesses of their glory. The impression that
+they experienced was sad. Napoleon, arrived at the Kremlin, hastened
+to mount the high tower of the great Ivan, and to contemplate from
+that height his magnificent conquest, across which the Moskowa was
+slowly pursuing its winding course. Thousands of blackbirds, ravens
+and crows, as numerous here as the pigeons at Venice, flying around
+the tops of the palaces and churches, gave a singular aspect to this
+great city, which contrasted strangely with the brightness of its
+brilliant colors. A mournful silence, disturbed only by the tramp of
+cavalry, had taken the place of life in this city, which till the
+evening before had been one of the most busy in the world. In spite of
+the sadness of this solitude, Napoleon, on finding Moscow abandoned
+like the other Russian towns, thought himself happy nevertheless in
+not finding it burned up, and did not despair of softening little by
+little the hatred which the presence of his flags had inspired since
+Vitebsk.
+
+The army hoped, then, to enjoy Moscow, to find peace there, and, in
+any case, good winter cantonments if the war was prolonged. However,
+on the morrow after the day on which the entry had been made, columns
+of flame arose from a very large building which contained the spirits
+that the government sold on its own account to the people of the
+capital. People ran there, without astonishment or terror, for they
+attributed the cause of this partial fire to the nature of the
+materials contained in this building, or to some imprudence committed
+by our soldiers. In fact, the fire was mastered, and we had time to
+reassure ourselves.
+
+But all at once the fire burst out at almost the same instant with
+extreme violence in a collection of buildings that was called the
+Bazaar. This bazaar, situated to the northeast of the Kremlin
+comprized the richest shops, those in which were sold the beautiful
+stuffs of India and Persia, the rarities of Europe, the colonial
+commodities, sugar, coffee, tea, and, lastly, precious wines. In a few
+minutes the fire had spread through the bazaar, and the soldiers of
+the guard ran in crowds and made the greatest efforts to arrest its
+progress. Unhappily, they could not succeed, and soon the immense
+riches of this establishment fell a prey to the flames. Eager to
+dispute with the fire the possession of these riches, belonging to no
+one at this time, and to secure them for themselves, our soldiers, not
+having been able to save them, tried to drag out some fragments.
+
+They might be seen coming out of the bazaar, carrying furs, silks,
+wines of great value, without any one dreaming of reproaching them for
+so doing, for they wronged no one but the fire, the sole master of
+these treasures. One might regret it on the score of discipline, but
+could not cast a reproach on their honor on that account. Besides,
+those who remained of the people set them an example, and took their
+large share of these spoils of the commerce of Moscow. Yet it was only
+one large building--an extremely rich one, it is true--that was
+attacked by the fire, and there was no fear for the town itself. These
+first disasters, of little consequence so far, were attributed to a
+very natural and very ordinary accident, which might be more easily
+explained still, in the bustle of evacuating the town.
+
+During the night of the 15th of September the scene suddenly changed.
+As if every misfortune was to fall at once on the old Muscovite
+capital, the equinoctial wind arose all at once with the double
+violence natural to the season and to level countries where nothing
+stops the storm. This wind, blowing at first from the east, carried
+the fire westward, along the streets situated between the roads from
+Tver and Smolensk, and which are known as the richest and most
+beautiful in Moscow, those of Tverskaia, Nikitskaia, and Povorskaia.
+In a few hours the fire, having spread fiercely among the wooden
+buildings, communicated itself from one to another with frightful
+rapidity. Shooting forth in long tongues of flame, it was seen
+invading other quarters situated to the west.
+
+Rockets were noticed in the air, and soon wretches were seized
+carrying combustibles at the end of long poles. They were taken up;
+they were questioned with threats of death, and they revealed the
+frightful secret, the order given by the Count of Rostopchin to set
+fire to the city of Moscow, as if it had been the smallest village on
+the road from Smolensk. This news spread consternation through the
+army in an instant. To doubt was no longer possible, after the arrests
+made, and the depositions collected from different parts of the town.
+Napoleon ordered that in each quarter the corps fixt there should form
+military commissions to try, shoot, and hang on gibbets the
+incendiaries taken in the act. He ordered likewise that they should
+employ all the troops there were in the town to extinguish the fire.
+They ran to the pumps, but there were none to be found. This last
+circumstance would have left no doubt, if there had remained any, of
+the frightful design that delivered Moscow to the flames....
+
+Napoleon, followed by some of his lieutenants, went out of that
+Kremlin which the Russian army had not been able to prevent him from
+entering, but from which the fire expelled him after four-and-twenty
+hours of possession, descended to the quay of Moskowa, found his
+horses ready there, and had much difficulty in crossing the town,
+which toward the northwest, whither he directed his course, was
+already in flames. The wind, which constantly increased in violence,
+sometimes caused columns of fire to bend to the ground, and drove
+before it torrents of sparks, smoke, and stifling cinders. The
+horrible appearance of the sky answered to the no less horrible
+spectacle of the earth. The terrified army went out of Moscow. The
+divisions of Prince Eugene and Marshal Ney, which had entered the
+evening before, turned back again on the roads of Zwenigorod and Saint
+Petersburg; those of Marshal Davoust returned by the road of Smolensk,
+and, except the guard left around the Kremlin to dispute its
+possession with the flames, our troops retired in haste, struck with
+horror, before this fire, which, after darting up toward the sky,
+seemed to bend down again over them as if it wished to devour them. A
+small number of the inhabitants who had remained in Moscow, and had
+hidden at first in their houses without daring to come out, now
+escaped from them, carrying away what was most dear to them--women
+their children, men their infirm parents.
+
+
+
+
+HONORÉ DE BALZAC
+
+ Born in France in 1799, died in 1850; educated at Tours and
+ Paris; became a lawyer's clerk; wrote short stories and
+ novels anonymously and became seriously involved in a
+ publishing venture; his first novel of merit, "Le Dernier
+ Chonan ou la Bretagne," published in 1829, "Eugénie Grandet"
+ in 1833, "Père Goriot" in 1835, "César Birotteau" in 1838;
+ married in 1850 Madame Hanska of a noble Polish family.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE DEATH OF PÉRE GORIOT[54]
+
+
+There was something awful and appalling in the sudden apparition of
+the Countess. She saw the bed of death by the dim light of the single
+candle, and her tears flowed at the sight of her father's passive
+features, from which the life has almost ebbed. Bianchon with
+thoughtful tact left the room.
+
+[Footnote 54: From the concluding chapter of "Old Goriot," as
+translated by Ellen Marriàge.]
+
+"I could not escape soon enough," she said to Rastignac.
+
+The student bowed sadly in reply. Mme. de Restaud took her father's
+hand and kissed it.
+
+"Forgive me, father! You used to say that my voice would call you back
+from the grave; ah! come back for one moment to bless your penitent
+daughter. Do you hear me? Oh! this is fearful! No one on earth will
+ever bless me henceforth; every one hates me; no one loves me but you
+in all the world. My own children will hate me. Take me with you,
+father; I will love you, I will take care of you. He does not hear
+me--I am mad--"
+
+She fell on her knees, and gazed wildly at the human wreck before her.
+
+"My cup of misery is full," she said, turning her eyes upon Eugene.
+"M. de Trailles has fled, leaving enormous debts behind him, and I
+have found out that he was deceiving me. My husband will never forgive
+me, and I have left my fortune in his hands. I have lost all my
+illusions. Alas! I have forsaken the one heart that loved me (she
+pointed to her father as she spoke), and for whom? I have held his
+kindness cheap, and slighted his affection; many and many a time I
+have given him pain, ungrateful wretch that I am!"
+
+"He knew it," said Rastignac.
+
+Just then Goriot's eyelids unclosed; it was only a muscular
+contraction, but the Countess's sudden start of reviving hope was no
+less dreadful than the dying eyes.
+
+"Is it possible that he can hear me?" cried the Countess. "No," she
+answered herself, and sat down beside the bed. As Mme. De Restaud
+seemed to wish to sit by her father, Eugene went down to take a little
+food. The boarders were already assembled.
+
+"Well," remarked the painter, as he joined them, "it seems that there
+is to be a death-drama up-stairs."
+
+"Charles, I think you might find something less painful to joke
+about," said Eugene.
+
+"So we may not laugh here?" returned the painter. "What harm does it
+do? Bianchon said that the old man was quite insensible."
+
+"Well, then," said the employé from the Museum, "he will die as he has
+lived."
+
+"My father is dead!" shrieked the Countess.
+
+The terrible cry brought Sylvie, Rastignac, and Bianchon; Mme. de
+Restaud had fainted away, When she recovered they carried her
+down-stairs, and put her into the cab that stood waiting at the door.
+Eugene sent Therese with her, and bade the maid take the Countess to
+Mme. de Nucingen.
+
+Bianchon came down to them.
+
+"Yes, he is dead," he said.
+
+"Come, sit down to dinner, gentlemen," said Mme. Vauquer, "or the soup
+will be cold."
+
+The two students sat down together.
+
+"What is the next thing to be done?" Eugene asked of Bianchon.
+
+"I have closed his eyes and composed his limbs," said Bianchon. "When
+the certificate has been officially registered at the Mayor's office,
+we will sew him in his winding-sheet and bury him somewhere. What do
+you think we ought to do?"
+
+"He will not smell at his bread like this any more," said the painter,
+mimicking the old man's little trick.
+
+"Oh, hang it all!" cried the tutor, "let old Goriot drop, and let us
+have something else for a change. He is a standing dish, and we have
+had him with every sauce this hour or more. It is one of the
+privileges of the good city of Paris that anybody may be born, or
+live, or die there without attracting any attention whatsoever. Let
+us profit by the advantages of civilization. There are fifty or sixty
+deaths every day; if you have a mind to do it, you can sit down at any
+time and wail over whole hecatombs of dead in Paris. Old Goriot has
+gone off the hooks, has he? So much the better for him. If you
+venerate his memory, keep it to yourselves, and let the rest of us
+feed in peace."
+
+"Oh, to be sure," said the widow, "it is all the better for him that
+he is dead. It looks as tho he had had trouble enough, poor soul,
+while he was alive."
+
+And this was all the funeral oration delivered over him who had been
+for Eugene the type and embodiment of fatherhood.
+
+When the hearse came, Eugene had the coffin carried into the house
+again, unscrewed the lid, and reverently laid on the old man's breast
+the token that recalled the days when Delphine and Anastasie were
+innocent little maidens, before they began "to think for themselves,"
+as he had moaned out in his agony.
+
+Rastignac and Christophe and the two undertaker's men were the only
+followers of the funeral. The Church of Saint-Etienne du Mont was only
+a little distance from the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve. When the coffin
+had been deposited in a low, dark, little chapel, the law student
+looked around in vain for Goriot's two daughters or their husbands.
+Christophe was his only fellow mourner: Christophe, who appeared to
+think it was his duty to attend the funeral of the man who had put him
+in the way of such handsome tips. As they waited there in the chapel
+for the two priests, the chorister, and the beadle, Rastignac grasped
+Christophe's hand. He could not utter a word just then.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Eugene," said Christophe, "he was a good and worthy man
+who never said one word louder than another; he never did any one any
+harm, and gave nobody any trouble."
+
+The two priests, the chorister, and the beadle came, and said and did
+as much as could be expected for seventy francs in an age when
+religion can not afford to say prayers for nothing.
+
+The ecclesiastics chanted a psalm, the _Libera nos_ and the _De
+profundis_. The whole service lasted about twenty minutes. There was
+but one mourning coach, which the priest and chorister agreed to share
+with Eugene and Christophe.
+
+"There is no one else to follow us," remarked the priest, "so we may
+as well go quickly, and so save time; it is half-past five."
+
+But just as the coffin was put in the hearse, two empty carriages,
+with the armorial bearings of the Comte de Restaud and the Baron de
+Nucingen, arrived and followed in the procession to Pere-Lachaise. At
+six o'clock Goriot's coffin was lowered into the grave, his daughters'
+servants standing round the while. The ecclesiastic recited the short
+prayer that the students could afford to pay for, and then both priest
+and lackeys disappeared at once. The two grave-diggers flung in
+several spadefuls of earth, and then stopt and asked Rastignac for
+their fee. Eugene felt in vain in his pocket, and was obliged to
+borrow five francs of Christophe.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+BIROTTEAU'S EARLY MARRIED LIFE[55]
+
+
+"You will have a good husband, my little girl," said M, Pillerault.
+"He has a warm heart and sentiments of honor. He is as straight as a
+line, and as good as the child Jesus; he is a king of men, in short."
+
+[Footnote 55: From "The Rise and Fall of César Birotteau," as
+translated by Ellen Marriàge.]
+
+Constance put away once and for all the dreams of a brilliant future,
+which, like most shop-girls, she had sometimes indulged. She meant to be a
+faithful wife and a good mother, and took up this life in accordance with
+the religious program of the middle classes. After all, her new ideas were
+much better than the dangerous vanities tempting to a youthful Parisian
+imagination. Constance's intelligence was a narrow one; she was the typical
+small tradesman's wife, who always grumbles a little over her work, who
+refuses a thing at the outset, and is vexed when she is taken at her word;
+whose restless activity takes all things, from cash-box to kitchen, as its
+province, and supervises everything, from the weightiest business
+transaction down to almost invisible darns in the household linen. Such a
+woman scolds while she loves, and can only conceive ideas of the very
+simplest; only the small change, as it were; of thought passes current with
+her; she argues about everything, lives in chronic fear of the unknown,
+makes constant forecasts, and is always thinking of the future. Her
+statuesque yet girlish beauty, her engaging looks, her freshness, prevented
+César from thinking of her shortcomings; and moreover, she made up for them
+by a woman's sensitive conscientiousness, an excessive thrift, by her
+fanatical love of work, and genius as a saleswoman.
+
+Constance was just eighteen years old, and the possessor of eleven
+thousand francs. César, in whom love had developed the most unbounded
+ambition, bought the perfumery business, and transplanted the Queen of
+Roses to a handsome shop near the Place Vêndome. He was only
+twenty-one years of age, married to a beautiful and adored wife, and
+almost the owner of his establishment, for he had paid three-fourths
+of the amount. He saw (how should he have seen otherwise?) the future
+in fair colors, which seemed fairer still as he measured his career
+from its starting-point.
+
+Roguin (Ragon's notary) drew up the marriage-contract, and gave sage
+counsels to the young perfumer; he it was who interfered when the
+latter was about to complete the purchase of the business with the
+wife's money. "Just keep the money by you, my boy; ready money is
+sometimes a handy thing in a business," he had said....
+
+During the first year César instructed his wife in all the ins and
+outs of the perfumery business, which she was admirably quick to
+grasp; she might have been brought into the world for that sole
+purpose, so well did she adapt herself to her customers. The result of
+the stock-taking at the end of the year alarmed the ambitious
+perfumer. After deducting all expenses, he might perhaps hope, in
+twenty years' time, to make the modest sum of a hundred thousand
+francs, the price of his felicity. He determined then and there to
+find some speedier road to fortune, and by way of a beginning, to be a
+manufacturer as well as a retailer.
+
+Acting against his wife's counsel, he took the lease of a shed on some
+building land in the Faubourg du Temple, and painted up thereon, in
+huge letters, CÉSAR BIROTTEAU'S FACTORY. He enticed a workman from
+Grasse, and with him began to manufacture several kinds of soap,
+essences, and eau-de-cologne, on the system of half profits. The
+partnership only lasted six months, and ended in a loss, which he had
+to sustain alone; but Birotteau did not lose heart. He meant to obtain
+a result at any price, if it were only to escape a scolding from his
+wife; and, indeed, he confest to her afterward that, in those days of
+despair, his head used to boil like a pot on the fire, and that many a
+time but for his religious principles he would have thrown himself
+into the Seine.
+
+One day, deprest by several unsuccessful experiments, he was
+sauntering home to dinner along the boulevards (the lounger in Paris
+is a man in despair quite as often as a genuine idler), when a book
+among a hamperful at six sous apiece caught his attention; his eyes
+were attracted by the yellow dusty title-page, Abdeker, so it ran, or
+the Art of Preserving Beauty.
+
+Birotteau took up the work. It claimed to be a translation from the
+Arabic, but in reality it was a sort of romance written by a
+physician in the previous century. César happened to stumble upon a
+passage there which treated of perfumes, and with his back against a
+tree in the boulevard, he turned the pages over till he reached a
+foot-note, wherein the learned author discoursed of the nature of the
+dermis and epidermis. The writer showed conclusively that such and
+such an unguent or soap often produced an effect exactly opposite to
+that intended, and the ointment, or the soap, acted as a tonic upon a
+skin that required a lenitive treatment, or vice versa.
+
+Birotteau saw a fortune in the book, and bought it. Yet, feeling
+little confidence in his unaided lights, he went to Vauquelin, the
+celebrated chemist, and in all simplicity asked him how to compose a
+double cosmetic which should produce the required effect upon the
+human epidermis in either case. The really learned--men so truly great
+in this sense that they can never receive in their lifetime all the
+fame that should reward vast labors like theirs--are almost always
+helpful and kindly to the poor in intellect. So it was with Vauquelin.
+He came to the assistance of the perfumer, gave him a formula for a
+paste to whiten the hands, and allowed him to style himself its
+inventor. It was this cosmetic that Birotteau called the Superfine
+Pate des Sultanes. The more thoroughly to accomplish his purpose, he
+used the recipe for the paste for a wash for the complexion, which he
+called the Carminative Toilet Lotion....
+
+César Birotteau might be a Royalist, but public opinion at that time
+was in his favor; and tho he had scarcely a hundred thousand francs
+beside his business, was looked upon as a very wealthy man. His
+steady-going ways, his punctuality, his habit of paying ready money
+for everything, of never discounting bills, while he would take paper
+to oblige a customer of whom he was sure--all these things, together
+with his readiness to oblige, had brought him a great reputation. And
+not only so; he had really made a good deal of money, but the building
+of his factories had absorbed most of it, and he paid nearly twenty
+thousand francs a year in rent. The education of their only daughter,
+whom Constance and César both idolized, had been a heavy expense.
+Neither the husband nor the wife thought of money where Cesarine's
+pleasure was concerned, and they had never brought themselves to part
+with her.
+
+Imagine the delight of the poor peasant parvenu when he heard his
+charming Cesarine play a sonata by Steibelt or sing a ballad; when he
+saw her writing French correctly, or making sepia drawings of
+landscapes, or listened while she read aloud from the Racines, father
+and son, and explained the beauties of the poetry. What happiness it
+was for him to live again in this fair, innocent flower, not yet
+plucked from the parent stem; this angel, over whose growing graces
+and earliest development they had watched with such passionate
+tenderness; this only child, incapable of despising her father or of
+laughing at his want of education, so much was she his little
+daughter.
+
+When César came to Paris, he had known how to read, write, and cipher,
+and at that point his education had been arrested. There had been no
+opportunity in his hard-working life of acquiring new ideas and
+information beyond the perfumery trade. He had spent his time among
+folk to whom science and literature were matters of indifference, and
+whose knowledge was of a limited and special kind; he himself, having
+no time to spare for loftier studies, became perforce a practical man.
+He adopted (how should he have done otherwise?) the language, errors,
+and opinions of the Parisian tradesman who admires Molière, Voltaire,
+and Rousseau on hearsay, and buys their works, but never opens them;
+who will have it that the proper way to pronounce "armoire" is
+"ormoire"; "or" means gold, and "moire" means silk, and women's
+dresses used almost always to be made of silk, and in their cupboards
+they locked up silk and gold--therefore, "ormoire" is right and
+"armoire" is an innovation. Potier, Talma, Mlle. Mars, and other
+actors and actresses were millionaires ten times over, and did not
+live like ordinary mortals: the great tragedian lived on raw meat, and
+Mlle. Mars would have a fricassee of pearls now and then--an idea she
+had taken from some celebrated Egyptian actress. As to the Emperor,
+his waistcoat pockets were lined with leather, so that he could take a
+handful of snuff at a time; he used to ride at full gallop up the
+staircase of the orangery at Versailles. Authors and artists ended in
+the workhouse, the natural close to their eccentric careers; they
+were, every one of them, atheists into the bargain, so that you had to
+be very careful not to admit anybody of that sort into your house,
+Joseph Lebas used to advert with horror to the story of his
+sister-in-law Augustine, who married the artist Sommervieux.
+Astronomers lived on spiders. These bright examples of the attitude of
+the bourgeois mind toward philology, the drama, politics, and science
+will throw light upon its breadth of view and powers of
+comprehension....
+
+César's wife, who had learned to know her husband's character during
+the early years of their marriage, led a life of perpetual terror; she
+represented sound sense and foresight in the partnership; she was
+doubt, opposition, and fear, while César represented boldness,
+ambition, activity, the element of chance and undreamed-of good luck.
+In spite of appearances, the merchant was the weaker vessel, and it
+was the wife who really had the patience and courage. So it had come
+to pass that a timid mediocrity, without education, knowledge, or
+strength of character, a being who could in nowise have succeeded in
+the world's most slippery places, was taken for a remarkable man, a
+man of spirit and resolution, thanks to his instinctive uprightness
+and sense of justice, to the goodness of a truly Christian soul, and
+love for the one woman who had been his.
+
+
+
+
+ALFRED DE VIGNY
+
+ Born in 1799, died in 1863; entered the army in 1815,
+ becoming a captain in 1823; published a volume of verse in
+ 1822; "Cinq-Mars," his famous historical novel, published in
+ 1826; made translations from Shakespeare and wrote original
+ historical dramas; admitted to the French Academy in 1845.
+
+
+
+
+RICHELIEU'S WAY WITH HIS MASTER[56]
+
+
+The latter [Cardinal de Richelieu], attired in all the pomp of a
+cardinal, leaning upon two young pages, and followed by his captain of
+the guards and more than five hundred gentlemen attached to his house,
+advanced toward the King slowly and stopping at each step, as if
+forcibly arrested by his sufferings, but in reality to observe the
+faces before him. A glance sufficed.
+
+[Footnote 56: From "Cinq-Mars; or the Conspiracy Under Louis XIII."
+Translated by William C. Hazlitt. The Marquis de Cinq-Mars was a
+favorite of Louis XIII, grand-master of the wardrobe and the horse,
+and aspired to a seat in the royal council and to the hand of Maria de
+Gonzaga, Princess of Mantua. Having been refused by Richelieu a place
+in the council, he formed a conspiracy against the cardinal and
+entered into a treasonable correspondence with Spain. The conspiracy
+being discovered, he was beheaded at Lyons in 1642. Bulwer's popular
+play "Richelieu," tho founded on this episode, diverges radically in
+several details.]
+
+His suite remained at the entrance of the royal tent; of all those
+within it not one was bold enough to salute him, or to look toward
+him. Even La Vallette feigned to be deeply occupied in a conversation
+with Montresor; and the King, who desired to give him an unfavorable
+reception, greeted him lightly and continued a conversation aside in a
+low voice with the Duc de Beaufort.
+
+The cardinal was therefore forced, after the first salute, to stop and
+pass to the side of the crowd of courtiers, as tho he wished to mix
+with them, but in reality to test them more closely; they all recoiled
+as at the sight of a leper. Fabert alone advanced toward him with the
+frank and blunt air habitual with him, and making use of the terms
+belonging to his profession, said:
+
+"Well, my Lord, you make a breach in the midst of them like a
+cannon-ball; I ask pardon in their name."
+
+"And you stand firm before me as before the enemy," said the cardinal;
+"you will have no cause to regret it in the end, my dear Fabert."
+
+Mazarin also approached the cardinal, but with caution, and giving to
+his flexible features an expression of profound sadness, made him five
+or six very low bows, turning his back to the group gathered round the
+King, so that in the latter quarter they might be taken for those cold
+and hasty salutations which are made to a person one desires to be rid
+of, and, on the part of the Duc, for tokens of respect blended with a
+discreet and silent sorrow.
+
+The minister, ever calm, smiled in disdain; and assuming that firm
+look and that air of grandeur which he wore so perfectly in the hour
+of danger, he again leaned upon his pages, and without waiting for a
+word or glance from his sovereign, he suddenly resolved upon his line
+of conduct, and walked directly toward him, traversing the whole
+length of the tent. No one had lost sight of him, altho affecting not
+to observe him. Every one now became silent, even those who were
+talking to the King; all the courtiers bent forward to see and to
+hear.
+
+Louis XIII turned round in astonishment, and all presence of mind
+totally failing him, remained motionless, and waited with an icy
+glance--his sole force, but a _vis inertiæ_ very effectual in a
+prince.
+
+The cardinal, on coming close to the prince, did not bow; and without
+changing his position, his eyes lowered and his hands placed on the
+shoulders of the two boys half-bending, he said:
+
+"Sire, I come to implore your Majesty at length to grant me the
+retirement for which I have long sighed. My health is failing; I feel
+that my life will soon be ended. Eternity approaches me, and before
+rendering an account to the eternal King, I would render one to my
+temporal sovereign. It is eighteen years, Sire, since you placed in my
+hands a weak and divided kingdom; I return it to you united and
+powerful. Your enemies are overthrown and humiliated. My work is
+accomplished. I ask your Majesty's permission to retire to Citeaux, of
+which I am abbot, and where I may end my days in prayer and
+meditation."
+
+The King, irritated with some haughty expressions in this address,
+showed none of the signs of weakness which the cardinal had expected,
+and which he had always seen in him when he had threatened to resign
+the management of affairs. On the contrary, feeling that he had the
+eyes of the whole court upon him, Louis looked upon him with the air
+of a king, and coldly replied:
+
+"We thank you, then, for your services, M. le Cardinal, and wish you
+the repose you desire."
+
+Richelieu was deeply angered, but no indication of his rage appeared
+upon his countenance. "Such was the coldness with which you left
+Montmorency to die," he said to himself; "but you shall not escape me
+thus." He then continued aloud, bowing at the same time:
+
+"The only recompense I ask for my services is that your Majesty will
+deign to accept from me, as a gift, the Palais-Cardinal I have already
+erected at my own cost in Paris."
+
+The King, astonished, bowed in token of assent. A murmur of surprize
+for a moment agitated the attentive court.
+
+"I also petition your Majesty to grant me the revocation of an act of
+rigor, which I solicited (I publicly confess it), and which I perhaps
+regarded as too beneficial to the repose of the state. Yes, when I was
+of this world, I was too forgetful of my old sentiments of personal
+respect and attachment, in my eagerness for the public welfare; now
+that I already enjoy the enlightenment of solitude, I see that I have
+been wrong, and I repent."
+
+The attention of the spectators was redoubled, and the uneasiness of
+the King became visible.
+
+"Yes, there is one person, Sire, whom I have always loved, despite her
+wrongs toward you, and the banishment which the affairs of the kingdom
+forced me to procure for her; a person to whom I have owed much, and
+who should be very dear to you, notwithstanding her armed attempts
+against you; a person, in a word, whom I implore you to recall from
+exile--the Queen Marie de Medicis, your mother."
+
+The King sent forth an involuntary exclamation, so far was he from
+expecting to hear that name. A represt agitation suddenly appeared
+upon every face. All awaited in silence the King's reply. Louis XIII
+looked for a long time at his old minister without speaking, and this
+look decided the fate of France; in that instant he called to mind all
+the indefatigable services of Richelieu, his unbounded devotion, his
+wonderful capacity, and was surprized at himself for having wished to
+part with him. He felt deeply affected at this request, which hunted
+out, as it were, the exact cause of his anger at the bottom of his
+heart, rooted it up, and took from his hands the only weapon he had
+against his old servant; filial love brought the words of pardon to
+his lips and tears into his eyes. Delighted to grant what he desired
+most of all things in the world, he extended his hand to the Duc with
+all the nobleness and kindliness of a Bourbon. The cardinal bowed, and
+respectfully kissed it; and his heart, which should have burst with
+remorse, only swelled in the joy of a haughty triumph.
+
+The prince, much moved, abandoning his hand to him, turned gracefully
+toward his court and said with a tremulous voice:
+
+"We often deceive ourselves, gentlemen, and especially in our
+knowledge of so great a politician as this; I hope he will never leave
+us, since his heart is as good as his head."
+
+Cardinal de la Vallette on the instant seized the arm of the King's
+mantle, and kissed it with all the ardor of a lover, and the young
+Mazarin did much the same with Richelieu himself, assuming with
+admirable Italian suppleness an expression radiant with joyful
+emotion. Two streams of flatterers hastened, one toward the King, the
+other toward the minister; the former group, not less adroit than the
+second, altho less direct, addrest to the prince thanks which could be
+heard by the minister, and burned at the feet of the one incense which
+was destined for the other. As for Richelieu, bestowing a bow on the
+right and a smile on the left, he stept forward, and stood on the
+right hand of the King, as his natural place.
+
+
+
+
+VICTOR HUGO
+
+ Born in 1802, died in 1885; his childhood spent partly in
+ Corsica, Italy and Spain, his father an officer in
+ Napoleon's army; educated at home by a priest and at a
+ school in Paris; published in 1816 his first tragedy,
+ "Irtamème," followed by other plays and poems; his most
+ notable work down to 1859 being "La Legende"; his writings
+ extremely numerous, other titles being "L'Art d'être
+ Grand-Père" 1877, "Notre Dame de Paris" 1831, "Napoleon le
+ Petit" 1852, "Les Misérables" 1862, "Les Travailleurs de la
+ Mer" 1866, "L'Homme Qui Rit" 1869, "Quatrevingt-treize"
+ 1874, "History of a Crime" 1877; elected to the French
+ Academy in 1841; exiled from France in 1851, living first in
+ Belgium, then in Jersey and Guernsey; returned to France
+ after the fall of the Empire in 1870; elected a life member
+ of the Senate in 1876.
+
+
+
+
+THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO[57]
+
+
+The battle of Waterloo is an enigma as obscure for those who gained it
+as for him who lost it. To Napoleon it is a panic; Blucher sees
+nothing in it but fire; Wellington does not understand it at all. Look
+at the reports: the bulletins are confused; the commentaries are
+entangled; the latter stammer, the former stutter. Jomini divides the
+battle of Waterloo into four moments; Muffling cuts it into three
+acts; Charras, altho we do not entirely agree with him in all his
+appreciations, has alone caught with his haughty eye the
+characteristic lineaments of this catastrophe of human genius
+contending with divine chance. All the other historians suffer from a
+certain bedazzlement in which they grope about. It was a flashing day,
+in truth the overthrow of the military monarchy which, to the great
+stupor of the kings, has dragged down all kingdoms, the downfall of
+strength and the rout of war.
+
+[Footnote 57: Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Misérables."
+Translation of Lascelles Wraxall.]
+
+In this event, which bears the stamp of superhuman necessity, men play
+but a small part; but if we take Waterloo from Wellington and Blucher,
+does that deprive England and Germany of anything? No. Neither
+illustrious England nor august Germany is in question in the problem
+of Waterloo, for, thank heaven! nations are great without the mournful
+achievements of the sword. Neither Germany, nor England, nor France is
+held in a scabbard; at this day when Waterloo is only a clash of
+sabers, Germany has Goethe above Blucher, and England Byron above
+Wellington. A mighty dawn of ideas is peculiar to our age; and in this
+dawn England and Germany have their own magnificent flash. They are
+majestic because they think; the high level they bring to civilization
+is intrinsic to them; it comes from themselves, and not from an
+accident. Any aggrandizement the nineteenth century may have can not
+boast of Waterloo as its fountainhead; for only barbarous nations grow
+suddenly after a victory--it is the transient vanity of torrents
+swollen by a storm. Civilized nations, especially at the present day,
+are not elevated or debased by the good or evil fortune of a captain,
+and their specific weight in the human family results from something
+more than a battle. Their honor, dignity, enlightenment, and genius
+are not numbers which those gamblers, heroes, and conquerors can stake
+in the lottery of battles. Very often a battle lost is progress
+gained, and less of glory, more of liberty. The drummer is silent and
+reason speaks; it is the game of who loses wins. Let us, then, speak
+of Waterloo coldly from both sides, and render to chance the things
+that belong to chance, and to God what is God's. What is Waterloo--a
+victory? No; a quine in the lottery, won by Europe, and paid by
+France; it was hardly worth while erecting a lion for it.
+
+Waterloo, by the way, is the strangest encounter recorded in history;
+Napoleon and Wellington are not enemies, but contraries. Never did
+God, who delights in antitheses, produce a more striking contrast, or
+a more extraordinary confrontation. On one side precision, foresight,
+geometry, prudence, a retreat assured, reserves prepared, an obstinate
+coolness, an imperturbable method, strategy profiting by the ground,
+tactics balancing battalions, carnage measured by a plumb-line, war
+regulated watch in hand, nothing left voluntarily to accident, old
+classic courage and absolute correctness. On the other side we have
+intuition, divination, military strangeness, superhuman instinct, a
+flashing glance; something that gazes like the eagle and strikes like
+lightning, all the mysteries of a profound mind, association with
+destiny; the river, the plain, the forest, and the hill summoned, and,
+to some extent, compelled to obey, the despot going so far as even to
+tyrannize over the battle-field; faith in a star, blended with
+strategic science, heightening, but troubling it. Wellington was the
+Barême of war, Napoleon was its Michelangelo, and this true genius was
+conquered by calculation. On both sides somebody was expected; and it
+was the exact calculator who succeeded. Napoleon waited for Grouchy,
+who did not come; Wellington waited for Blucher, and he came.
+
+Wellington is the classical war taking its revenge; Bonaparte, in his
+dawn, had met it in Italy, and superbly defeated it--the old owl fled
+before the young vulture. The old tactics had been not only
+overthrown, but scandalized. Who was this Corsican of six-and-twenty
+years of age? What meant this splendid ignoramus, who, having
+everything against him, nothing for him, without provisions,
+ammunition, guns, shoes, almost without an army, with a handful of men
+against masses, dashed at allied Europe, and absurdly gained
+impossible victories? Who was this new comet of war who possest the
+effrontery of a planet? The academic military school excommunicated
+him, while bolting, and hence arose an implacable rancor of the old
+Cæsarism against the new, of the old saber against the flashing sword,
+and of the chessboard against genius. On June 18th, 1815, this rancor
+got the best; and beneath Lodi, Montebello, Montenotte, Mantua,
+Marengo, and Arcola, it wrote--Waterloo. It was a triumph of
+mediocrity, sweet to majorities, and destiny consented to this irony.
+In his decline, Napoleon found a young Suvarov before him--in fact, it
+is only necessary to blanch Wellington's hair in order to have a
+Suvarov. Waterloo is a battle of the first class, gained by a captain
+of the second.
+
+What must be admired in the battle of Waterloo is England, the English
+firmness, the English resolution, the English blood, and what England
+had really superb in it, is (without offense) herself; it is not her
+captain, but her army. Wellington, strangely ungrateful, declares in
+his dispatch to Lord Bathurst that his army, the one which fought on
+June 18th, 1815, was a "detestable army." What does the gloomy pile of
+bones buried in the trenches of Waterloo think of this? England has
+been too modest to herself in her treatment of Wellington, for making
+him so great is making herself small. Wellington is merely a hero,
+like any other man. The Scotch Grays, the Life Guards, Maitland and
+Mitchell's regiments, Pack and Kempt's infantry, Ponsonby and
+Somerset's cavalry, the Highlanders playing the bagpipes under the
+shower of canister, Ryland's battalions, the fresh recruits who could
+hardly manage a musket, and yet held their ground against the old
+bands of Essling and Rivoli--all this is grand. Wellington was
+tenacious; that was his merit, and we do not deny it to him, but the
+lowest of his privates and his troopers was quite as solid as he, and
+the iron soldier is as good as the iron duke. For our part, all our
+glorification is offered to the English soldier, the English army, the
+English nation; and if there must be a trophy, it is to England that
+this trophy is owing. The Waterloo column would be more just, if,
+instead of the figure of a man, it raised to the clouds the statue of
+a people.
+
+But this great England will be irritated by what we are writing here;
+for she still has feudal illusions, after her 1688 and the French
+1789. This people believes in inheritance and hierarchy, and while no
+other excels it in power and glory, it esteems itself as a nation and
+not as a people. As a people, it readily subordinates itself, and
+takes a lord as its head; the workman lets himself be despised; the
+soldier puts up with flogging, It will be remembered that, at the
+battle of Inkerman, a sergeant who, as it appears, saved the British
+army, could not be mentioned by Lord Raglan, because the military
+hierarchy does not allow any hero below the rank of officer to be
+mentioned in dispatches. What we admire before all, in an encounter
+like Waterloo, is the prodigious skill of chance. The night raid, the
+wall of Hougomont, the hollow way of Ohain, Grouchy deaf to the
+cannon, Napoleon's guide deceiving him, Bulow's guide enlightening
+him--all this cataclysm is marvelously managed.
+
+Altogether, we will assert, there is more of a massacre than of a
+battle in Waterloo. Waterloo, of all pitched battles, is the one which
+had the smallest front for such a number of combatants. Napoleon's
+three-quarters of a league. Wellington's half a league, and
+seventy-two thousand combatants on either side. From this density came
+the carnage. The following calculation has been made and proportion
+established: loss of men, at Austerlitz, French, fourteen per cent.;
+Russian, thirty per cent.; Austrian, forty-four per cent.: at Wagram,
+French, thirteen per cent.; Austrian, fourteen per cent.: at Moscow,
+French, thirty-seven per cent.; Russian, forty-four per cent.: at
+Bautzen, French, thirteen per cent.; Russian and Prussian, fourteen
+per cent.: at Waterloo, French, fifty-six per cent.; allies,
+thirty-one per cent.--total for Waterloo, forty-one per cent., or out
+of one hundred and forty-four thousand fighting men, sixty thousand
+killed.
+
+The field of Waterloo has at the present day that calmness which
+belongs to the earth, and resembles all plains; but at night, a sort
+of visionary mist rises from it, and if any traveler walk about it,
+and listen and dream, like Virgil on the mournful plain of Philippi,
+the hallucination of the catastrophe seizes upon him. The frightful
+June 18th lives again, the false monumental hill is leveled, the
+wondrous lion is dissipated, the battle-field resumes its reality,
+lines of infantry undulate on the plain; furious galloping crosses the
+horizon; the startled dreamer sees the flash of sabers, the sparkle of
+bayonets, the red light of shells, the monstrous collision of
+thunderbolts; he hears, like a death groan from the tomb, the vague
+clamor of the fantom battle. These shadows are grenadiers; these
+flashes are cuirassiers; this skeleton is Napoleon; this skeleton is
+Wellington; all this is nonexistent, and yet still combats, and the
+ravines are stained purple, and the trees rustle, and there is fury
+even in the clouds and in the darkness, while all the stern heights,
+Mont St. Jean, Hougomont, Frischemont, Papelotte, and Plancenoit, seem
+confusedly crowned by hosts of specters exterminating one another.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE BEGINNINGS AND EXPANSIONS OF PARIS[58]
+
+
+The Paris of three hundred and fifty years ago, the Paris of the
+fifteenth century, was already a gigantic city. We modern Parisians in
+general are much mistaken in regard to the ground which we imagine it
+has gained. Since the time of Louis XI Paris has not increased above
+one-third; and certes it has lost much more in beauty than it has
+acquired in magnitude.
+
+[Footnote 58: From Book III, Chapter II, of "The Hunchback of Notre
+Dame." From an anonymous, non-copyright translation published by A. L.
+Burt Company.]
+
+The infant Paris was born, as everybody knows, in that ancient island
+in the shape of a cradle, which is now called the City. The banks of
+that island were its first enclosure; the Seine was its first ditch.
+For several centuries Paris was confined to the island, having two
+bridges, the one on the north, the other on the south, the two
+_têtes-de-ponts_, which were at once its gates and its fortresses--the
+Grand Chatelet on the right bank and the Petit Chatelet on the left.
+In process of time, under the kings of the first dynasty, finding
+herself straitened in her island and unable to turn herself about, she
+crossed the water. A first enclosure of walls and towers then began to
+encroach upon either bank of the Seine beyond the two Chatelets. Of
+this ancient enclosure some vestiges were still remaining in the past
+century; nothing is now left of it but the memory and here and there
+a tradition. By degrees the flood of houses, always propelled from the
+heart to the extremities, wore away and overflowed this enclosure.
+
+Philip Augustus surrounded Paris with new ramparts. He imprisoned the
+city within a circular chain of large, lofty, and massive towers. For
+more than a century the houses, crowding closer and closer, raised
+their level in this basin, like water in a reservoir. They began to
+grow higher; story was piled upon story; they shot up like any
+comprest liquid, and each tried to lift its head above its neighbors
+in order to obtain a little fresh air. The streets became deeper and
+deeper, and narrower and narrower; every vacant place was covered and
+disappeared. The houses at length overleapt the wall of Philip
+Augustus, and merrily scattered themselves at random over the plain,
+like prisoners who had made their escape. There they sat themselves
+down at their ease and carved themselves gardens out of the fields. So
+early as 1367 the suburbs of the city had spread so far as to need a
+fresh enclosure, especially on the right bank; this was built for it
+by Charles V. But a place like Paris is perpetually increasing. It is
+such cities alone that become capitals of countries. They are
+reservoirs into which all the geographical, political, moral, and
+intellectual channels of a country, all the natural inclined planes of
+its population discharge themselves; wells of civilization, if we may
+be allowed the expression, and drains also, where all that constitutes
+the sap, the life, the soul of the nation, is incessantly collecting
+and filtering, drop by drop, age by age.
+
+The enclosure of Charles V consequently shared the same fate as that
+of Philip Augustus. So early as the conclusion of the fifteenth
+century it was overtaken, passed, and the suburbs kept traveling
+onward. In the sixteenth it seemed very visibly receding more and more
+into the ancient city, so rapidly did the new town thicken on the
+other side of it. Thus, so far back as the fifteenth century, to come
+down no further, Paris had already worn out the three concentric
+circles of walls which, from the time of Julian the Apostate, lay in
+embryo, if I may be allowed the expression, in the Grand and Petit
+Chatelets. The mighty city had successively burst its four mural
+belts, like a growing boy bursting the garments made for him a year
+ago. Under Louis XI there were still to be seen ruined towers of the
+ancient enclosures, rising at intervals above the sea of houses, like
+the tops of hills from amid an inundation, like the archipelagos of
+old Paris submerged beneath the new....
+
+Each of these great divisions of Paris was, as we have observed, a
+city, but a city too special to be complete, a city which could not do
+without the two others. Thus they had three totally different aspects.
+The City, properly so called, abounded in churches; the Ville
+contained the palaces; and the University, the colleges. Setting aside
+secondary jurisdictions, we may assume generally that the island was
+under the bishop, the right bank under the provost of the merchants,
+the left under the rector of the University, and the whole under the
+provost of Paris, a royal and not a municipal officer. The City had
+the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Ville the Louvre and the Hotel de
+Ville, and the University the Sorbonne. The Ville contained the
+Halles, the City the Hotel Dieu, and the University the Pré aux
+Clercs. For offenses committed by the students on the left bank, in
+their Pré aux Clercs, they were tried at the Palace of Justice in the
+island, and punished on the right bank at Montfaucon, unless the
+rector, finding the University strong and the king weak, chose to
+interfere; for it was a privilege of the scholars to be hung in their
+own quarter.
+
+Most of these privileges, be it remarked by the way, and some of them
+were more valuable than that just mentioned, had been extorted from
+different sovereigns by riots and insurrections. This is the
+invariable course--the king never grants any boon but what is wrung
+from him by the people.
+
+In the fifteenth century that part of the Seine comprehended within
+the enclosure of Paris contained five islands: the Ile Louviers, then
+covered with trees and now with timber, the Ile aux Vaches, and the
+Ile Notre Dame, both uninhabited and belonging to the bishop [in the
+seventeenth century these two islands were converted into one, which
+has been built upon and is now called the Isle of St. Louis]; lastly
+the City, and at its point the islet of the Passeur aux Vaches, since
+buried under the platform of the Pont Neuf. The City had at that time
+five bridges: three on the right--the bridge of Notre Dame and the
+Pont au Change of stone, and the Pont aux Meuniers of wood; two on the
+left--the Petit Pont of stone, and the Pont St. Michel of wood; all of
+them covered with houses. The university had six gates, built by
+Philip Augustus; these were, setting out from the Tournelle, the Gate
+of St. Victor, the Gate of Bordelle, the Papal Gate, and the gates of
+St. Jacques, St. Michel, and St. Germain. The Ville had six gates,
+built by Charles V, that is to say, beginning from the Tower of Billy,
+the gates of St. Antoine, the Temple, St. Martin, St. Denis,
+Montmartre, and St. Honoré. All these gates were strong, and handsome,
+too, a circumstance which does not detract from strength. A wide, deep
+ditch, supplied by the Seine with water, which was swollen by the
+floods of winter to a running stream, encircled the foot of the wall
+all round Paris. At night the gates were closed, the river was barred
+at the two extremities of the city by stout iron chains, and Paris
+slept in quiet.
+
+A bird's-eye view of these three towns, the City, the University, and
+the Ville, exhibited to the eye an inextricable knot of streets
+strangely jumbled together. It was apparent, however, at first sight
+that these three fragments of a city formed but a single body. The
+spectator perceived immediately two long parallel streets, without
+break or interruption, crossing the three cities, nearly in a right
+line, from one end to the other, from south to north, perpendicularly
+to the Seine, incessantly pouring the people of the one into the
+other, connecting, blending them together and converting the three
+into one. The first of these streets ran from the Gate of St. Jacques
+to the Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the University the street
+of St. Jacques, in the City Rue de la Juiverie, and in the Ville, the
+street of St. Martin; it crossed the river twice by the name of Petit
+Pont and Pont Notre Dame. The second, named Rue de la Harpe on the
+left bank, Rue de la Barillerie in the island, Rue St. Denis on the
+right bank, Pont St. Michel over one arm of the Seine, and Pont au
+Change over the other, Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the
+University to the Gate of St. Denis in the Ville. Still, tho they bore
+so many different names, they formed in reality only two streets, but
+the two mother-streets, the two great arteries of Paris. All the other
+veins of the triple city were fed by or discharged themselves into
+these....
+
+What, then, was the aspect of this whole, viewed from the summit of
+the towers of Notre Dame in 1482? That is what we shall now attempt to
+describe. The spectator, on arriving breathless at that elevation, was
+dazzled by the chaos of roofs, chimneys, streets, bridges, belfries,
+towers and steeples. All burst at once upon the eye--the carved gable,
+the sharp roof, the turret perched upon the angles of the walls, the
+stone pyramids of the eleventh century, the slated obelisk of the
+fifteenth, the round and naked keep of the castle, the square and
+embroidered tower of the church, the great and the small, the massive
+and the light. The eye was long bewildered amid this labyrinth of
+heights and depths in which there was nothing but had its originality,
+its reason, its genius, its beauty, nothing, but issued from the hand
+of art, from the humblest dwelling with its painted and carved wooden
+front, elliptical doorway, and overhanging stories, to the royal
+Louvre, which then had a colonnade of towers.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDRE DUMAS
+
+ Born in 1802, died in 1870; his father a French general, his
+ grandmother a negress; at first a writer of plays; active in
+ the Revolution of 1830; wrote books of travel and short
+ stories, a great number of novels, some of them in
+ collaboration with others; "Les Trois Mousquetaires"
+ published in 1844; "Monte Cristo" in 1844-45; "Le Reine
+ Margot" in 1845; wrote also historical sketches and
+ reminiscences; his son of the same name famous also as a
+ writer of books and a playwright.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHOULDER, THE BELT, AND THE HANDKERCHIEF[59]
+
+
+Furious with rage, D'Artagnan crossed the anteroom in three strides,
+and began to descend the stairs four steps at a time, without looking
+where he was going; when suddenly he was brought up short by knocking
+violently against the shoulder of a musketeer who was leaving the
+apartments of M. De Treville. The young man staggered backward from
+the shock, uttering a cry, or rather a yell.
+
+[Footnote 59: From "The Three Musketeers."]
+
+"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan, trying to pass him, "but I am in a great
+hurry."
+
+He had hardly placed his foot on the next step, when he was stopt by
+the grasp of an iron wrist on his sash.
+
+"You are in a great hurry!" cried the musketeer, whose face was the
+color of a shroud; "and you think that is enough apology for nearly
+knocking me down? Not so fast, my young man. I suppose you imagine
+that because you heard M. De Treville speaking to us rather brusquely
+to-day, that everybody may treat us in the same way? But you are
+mistaken, and it is as well you should learn that you are not M. De
+Treville."
+
+"Upon my honor," replied D'Artagnan, recognizing Athos, who was
+returning to his room after having his wound drest, "upon my honor, it
+was an accident, and therefore I begged your pardon. I should have
+thought that was all that was necessary. I repeat that I am in a very
+great hurry, and I should be much obliged if you would let me go my
+way."
+
+"Monsieur," said Athos, loosening his hold, "you are sadly lacking in
+courtesy, and one sees that you must have had a rustic upbringing."
+
+D'Artagnan was by this time half-way down another flight; but on
+hearing Athos's remark he stopt short.
+
+"My faith, monsieur!" exclaimed he, "however rustic I may be, I shall
+not come to you to teach me manners."
+
+"I am not so sure of that," replied Athos.
+
+"Oh, if I was only not in such haste," cried D'Artagnan; "if only I
+was not pursuing somebody--"
+
+"Monsieur, you will find me without running after me. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"And where, if you please?"
+
+"Near Carmes-Deschaux."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"Twelve o'clock."
+
+"Very good. At twelve I will be there."
+
+"And don't be late, for at a quarter-past twelve I will cut off your
+ears for you."
+
+"All right," called out D'Artagnan, dashing on down-stairs after his
+man; "you may expect me at ten minutes before the hour."
+
+But he was not to escape so easily. At the street door stood Porthos,
+talking to a sentry, and between the two men there was barely space
+for a man to pass. D'Artagnan took it for granted that he could get
+through, and darted on, swift as an arrow, but he had not reckoned on
+the gale that was blowing. As he passed, a sudden gust wrapt Porthos's
+mantle tight round him; and tho the owner of the garment could easily
+have freed him had he so chosen, for reasons of his own he preferred
+to draw the folds still closer.
+
+D'Artagnan, hearing the volley of oaths let fall by the musketeers,
+feared he might have damaged the splendor of the belt, and struggled
+to unwind himself; but when he at length freed his head, he found that
+like most things in this world the belt had two sides, and while the
+front bristled with gold, the back was mere leather; which explains
+why Porthos always had a cold and could not part from his mantle.
+
+"Confound you!" cried Porthos, struggling in his turn, "have you gone
+mad, that you tumble over people like this?"
+
+"Excuse me," answered D'Artagnan, "but I am in a great hurry. I am
+pursuing some one, and--"
+
+"And I suppose that on such occasions you leave your eyes behind you?"
+asked Porthos.
+
+"No," replied D'Artagnan, rather nettled; "and thanks to my eyes, I
+often see things that other people don't."
+
+Possibly Porthos might have understood this allusion, but in any case
+he did not attempt to control his anger, and said sharply:
+
+"Monsieur, we shall have to give you a lesson if you take to tumbling
+against the musketeers like this!"
+
+"A lesson, monsieur!" replied D'Artagnan; "that is rather a severe
+expression."
+
+"It is the expression of a man who is always accustomed to look his
+enemies in the face."
+
+"Oh, if that is all, there is no fear of your turning your back on
+anybody," and enchanted at his own wit, the young man walked away in
+fits of laughter.
+
+Porthos foamed with rage, and rushed after D'Artagnan.
+
+"By and by, by and by," cried the latter; "when you have not got your
+mantle on."
+
+"At one o'clock then, behind the Luxembourg."
+
+"All right; at one o'clock," replied D'Artagnan as he vanished around
+the corner....
+
+Moreover, he had gotten himself into two fierce duels with two men,
+each able to kill three D'Artagnans; in a word, with two
+musketeers--beings he set so high that he placed them above all other
+men.
+
+It was a sad lookout. To be sure, as the youth was certain to be
+killed by Athos, he was not much disturbed about Porthos. As hope is
+the last thing to die in a man's heart, however, he ended by hoping
+that he might come out alive from both duels, even if dreadfully
+injured; and on that supposition he scored himself in this way for
+his conduct:
+
+"What a rattle-headed dunce I am! Thai brave and unfortunate Athos was
+wounded right on that shoulder I ran against head foremost, like a
+ram. The only thing that surprizes me is that he didn't strike me dead
+on the spot; he had provocation enough, for I must have hurt him
+savagely. As to Porthos--oh! as to Porthos--that's a funny affair!"
+
+And the youth began to laugh aloud in spite of himself; looking round
+carefully, however, to see if his laughing alone in public without
+apparent cause aroused any suspicion....
+
+D'Artagnan, walking and soliloquizing, had come within a few steps of
+the Aiguillon House, and in front of it saw Aramis chatting gaily with
+three of the King's Guards. Aramis also saw D'Artagnan; but not having
+forgotten that it was in his presence M. De Treville had got so angry
+in the morning, and as a witness of the rebuke was not at all
+pleasant, he pretended not to see him. D'Artagnan, on the other hand,
+full of his plans of conciliation and politeness, approached the young
+man with a profound bow accompanied by a most gracious smile. Aramis
+bowed slightly, but did not smile. Moreover, all four immediately
+broke off their conversation.
+
+D'Artagnan was not so dull as not to see he was not wanted; but he was
+not yet used enough to social customs to know how to extricate himself
+dextrously from his false position, which his generally is who accosts
+people he is little acquainted with, and mingles in a conversation
+which does not concern him. He was mentally casting about for the
+least awkward manner of retreat, when he noticed that Aramis had let
+his handkerchief fall and (doubtless by mistake) put his foot on it.
+This seemed a favorable chance to repair his mistake of intrusion: he
+stooped down, and with the most gracious air he could assume, drew the
+handkerchief from under the foot in spite of the efforts made to
+detain it, and holding it out to Aramis, said:
+
+"I believe, sir, this is a handkerchief you would be sorry to lose?"
+
+The handkerchief was in truth richly embroidered, and had a cornet and
+a coat of arms at one corner. Aramis blushed excessively, and snatched
+rather than took the handkerchief.
+
+"Ha! ha!" exclaimed one of the guards, "will you go on saying now,
+most discreet Aramis, that you are not on good terms with Madame de
+Bois-Tracy, when that gracious lady does you the favor of lending you
+her handkerchief!"
+
+Aramis darted at D'Artagnan one of those looks which tell a man that
+he has made a mortal enemy; then assuming his mild air he said:
+
+"You are mistaken, gentlemen: this handkerchief is not mine, and I can
+not understand why this gentleman has taken it into his head to offer
+it to me rather than to one of you. And as a proof of what I say, here
+is mine in my pocket."
+
+So saying, he pulled out his handkerchief, which was also not only a
+very dainty one, and of fine linen (tho linen was then costly), but
+was embroidered and without arms, bearing only a single cipher, the
+owner's.
+
+This time D'Artagnan saw his mistake; but Aramis's friends were by no
+means convinced, and one of them, addressing the young musketeer with
+pretended gravity, said:
+
+"If things were as you make out, I should feel obliged, my dear
+Aramis, to reclaim it myself; for as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is
+an intimate friend of mine, and I can not allow one of his wife's
+belongings to be exhibited as a trophy."
+
+"You make the demand clumsily," replied Aramis; "and while I
+acknowledge the justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on account of
+the form."
+
+"The fact is," D'Artagnan put in hesitatingly, "I did not actually see
+the handkerchief fall from M. Aramis's pocket. He had his foot on it,
+that's all, and I thought it was his."
+
+"And you were deceived, my dear sir," replied Aramis coldly, very
+little obliged for the explanation; then turning to the guard who had
+profest himself Bois-Tracy's friend--"Besides," he went on, "I have
+reflected, my dear intimate friend of Bois-Tracy, that I am not less
+devotedly his friend than you can possibly be, so that this
+handkerchief is quite as likely to have fallen from your pocket as
+from mine!"
+
+"On my honor, no!"
+
+"You are about to swear on your honor, and I on my word; and then it
+will be pretty evident that one of us will have lied. Now here,
+Montaran, we will do better than that: let each take a half."
+
+"Perfectly fair," cried the other two guardsmen; "the judgment of
+Solomon! Aramis, you are certainly full of wisdom!"
+
+They burst into a loud laugh, and as may be supposed, the incident
+bore no other fruit. In a minute or two the conversation stopt, and
+the three guards and the musketeer, after heartily shaking hands,
+separated, the guards going one way and Aramis another.
+
+"Now is the time to make my peace with this gentleman," said
+D'Artagnan to himself, having stood on one side during all the latter
+part of the conversation; and in this good spirit drawing near to
+Aramis, who was going off without paying any attention to him, he
+said:
+
+"You will excuse me, I hope."
+
+"Ah!" interrupted Aramis, "permit me to observe to you, sir, that you
+have not acted in this affair as a man of good breeding ought."
+
+"What!" cried D'Artagnan, "do you suppose--"
+
+"I suppose that you are not a fool, and that you knew very well, even
+tho you come from Gascony, that people do not stand on handkerchiefs
+for nothing. What the devil! Paris is not paved with linen!"
+
+"Sir, you do wrong in trying to humiliate me," said D'Artagnan, in
+whom his native pugnacity began to speak louder than his peaceful
+resolutions. "I come from Gascony, it is true; and since you know it,
+there is no need to tell you that Gascons are not very patient, so
+that when they have asked pardon once, even for a folly, they think
+they have done at least as much again as they ought to have done."
+
+"Sir, what I say to you about this matter," said Aramis, "is not for
+the sake of hunting a quarrel. Thank Heaven, I am not a
+swash-buckler, and being a musketeer only for a while, I only fight
+when I am forced to do so, and always with great reluctance; but this
+time the affair is serious, for here is a lady compromised by you."
+
+"By us, you mean," cried D'Artagnan.
+
+"Why did you give me back the handkerchief so awkwardly?"
+
+"Why did you let it fall so awkwardly?"
+
+"I have said that the handkerchief did not fall from my pocket."
+
+"Well, by saying that you have told two lies, sir; for I saw it fall."
+
+"Oh ho! you take it up that way, do you, Master Gascon? Well, I will
+teach you how to behave yourself."
+
+"And I will send you back to your pulpit, Master Priest. Draw, if you
+please, and instantly--"....
+
+"Prudence is a virtue useless enough to musketeers, I know, but
+indispensable to churchmen; and as I am only a temporary musketeer, I
+hold it best to be prudent. At two o'clock I shall have the honor of
+expecting you at Treville's. There I will point out the best place and
+time to you."
+
+The two bowed and separated. Aramis went up the street which led to
+the Luxembourg; while D'Artagnan, seeing that the appointed hour was
+coming near, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to himself,
+"I certainly can not hope to come out of these scrapes alive; but if I
+am doomed to be killed, it will be by a royal musketeer."
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE SAND
+
+ Born in France in 1804, died in 1876; her real name Aurore
+ Dupin, Baroness Dudevant; entered a convent in Paris in
+ 1817, remaining until 1820; married in 1822; sought a life
+ of independence in 1831 with Jules Sandeau, with whom she
+ collaborated in writing; became an advanced Republican,
+ active in politics; wrote for newspapers and started a
+ newspaper of her own; published "Indiana" in 1831,
+ "Consuelo" in 1842; "Elle et Lui" in 1858; "Nanon" in 1872;
+ author of many other books.
+
+
+
+
+LÉLIA AND THE POET[60]
+
+
+"The prophets are crying in the desert to-day, and no voice answers,
+for the world is indifferent and deaf: it lies down and stops its ears
+so as to die in peace. A few scattered groups of weak votaries vainly
+try to rekindle a spark of virtue. As the last remnants of man's moral
+power, they will float for a moment about the abyss, then go and join
+the other wrecks at the bottom of that shoreless sea which will
+swallow up the world."
+
+"O Lélia, why do you thus despair of those sublime men who aspire to
+bring virtue back to our iron age? Even if I were as doubtful of their
+success as you are, I would not say so. I should fear to commit an
+impious crime."
+
+[Footnote 60: From "Lélia," which was published in 1833, during an
+eventful period in its author's life. The character of Lélia was drawn
+from George Sand herself as a personification of human nature at war
+with itself. The original of Sténio was Alfred de Musset, whose
+intimate friendship with the author is historic.]
+
+"I admire those men," said Lélia, "and would like to be the least
+among them. But what will those shepherds bearing a star on their
+brows be able to do before the huge monster of the Apocalypse--before
+that immense and terrible figure outlined in the foreground of all the
+prophets' pictures? That woman, as pale and beautiful as vice--that
+great harlot of nations, decked with the wealth of the East, and
+bestriding a hydra belching forth rivers of poison on all human
+pathways--is Civilization; is humanity demoralized by luxury and
+science; is the torrent of venom which will swallow up all virtue, all
+hope of regeneration."
+
+"O Lélia!" exclaimed the poet, struck by superstition, "are not you
+that terrible and unhappy fantom? How many times this fear has taken
+possession of my dreams! How many times you have appeared to me as the
+type of the unspeakable agony to which the spirit of inquiry has
+driven man! With your beauty and your sadness, your weariness and your
+skepticism, do you not personify the excess of sorrow produced by the
+abuse of thought? Have you not given up, and as it were prostituted,
+that moral power, so highly developed by what art, poetry, and science
+have done for it, to every new impression and error? Instead of
+clinging faithfully and prudently to the simple creed of your fathers,
+and to the instinctive indifference God has implanted in man for his
+peace and preservation; instead of confining yourself to a pious life
+free from vain show, you have abandoned yourself to all the seductions
+of ambitious philosophy. You have cast yourself into the torrent of
+civilization rising to destroy, and which by dashing along too swiftly
+has ruined the scarcely laid foundations of the future. And because
+you have delayed the work of centuries for a few days, you think you
+have shattered the hourglass of Eternity. There is much pride in this
+grief, Lélia! But God will make this billow of stormy centuries, that
+for him are but a drop in the ocean, float by. The devouring hydra
+will perish for lack of food; and from its world-covering corpse a new
+race will issue, stronger and more patient than the old."
+
+"You see far into the future, Sténio! You personify Nature for me, and
+are her unspotted child. You have not yet blunted your faculties: you
+believe yourself immortal because you feel yourself young and like
+that untilled valley now blooming in pride and beauty--never dreaming
+that in a single day the plowshare and the hundred-handed monster
+called industry can tear its bosom to rob it of its treasures; you are
+growing up full of trust and presumption, not foreseeing your coming
+life, which will drag you down under the weight of its errors,
+disfigure you with the false colors of its promises. Wait, wait a few
+years, and you too will say, 'All is passing away!'"
+
+"No, all is not passing away!" said Sténio. "Look at the sun, and the
+earth, and the beautiful sky, and these green hills; and even that
+ice, winter's fragile edifice, which has withstood the rays of summer
+for centuries. Even so man's frail power will prevail! What matters
+the fall of a few generations? Do you weep for so slight a thing,
+Lélia? Do you deem it possible a single idea can die in the universe?
+Will not that imperishable inheritance be found intact in the dust of
+our extinct races, just as the inspirations of art and the discoveries
+of science arise alive each day from the ashes of Pompeii or the tombs
+of Memphis? Oh, what a great and striking proof of intellectual
+immortality! Deep mysteries had been lost in the night of time; the
+world had forgotten its age, and thinking itself still young, was
+alarmed at feeling itself so old. It said as you do, Lélia: 'I am
+about to end, for I am growing weak, and I was born but a few days
+ago! How few I shall need for dying, since so few were needed for
+living!' But one day human corpses were exhumed from the bosom of
+Egypt--Egypt that had lived out its period of civilization, and has
+just lived its period of barbarism! Egypt, where the ancient light,
+lost so long, is being rekindled, and a rested and rejuvenated Egypt
+may perhaps soon come and establish herself upon the extinguished
+torch of our own. Egypt, the living image of her mummies sleeping
+under the dust of ages, and now awaking to the broad daylight of
+science in order to reveal the age of the old world to the new! Is
+this not solemn and terrible, Lélia? Within the dried-up entrails of a
+human corpse the inquisitive glance of our century discovered the
+papyrus, that mysterious and sacred monument of man's eternal
+power--the still dark but incontrovertible witness of the imposing
+duration of creation. Our eager hand unrolls those perfumed bandages,
+those frail and indissoluble shrouds at which destruction stopt short.
+These bandages that once enfolded a corpse, these manuscripts that
+have rested under fleshless ribs in the place once occupied perhaps by
+a soul, are human thought; exprest in the science of signs, and
+transmitted by the help of an art we had lost, but have found again in
+the sepulchers of the East--the art of preserving the remains of the
+dead from the outrages of corruption--the greatest power in the
+universe. O Lélia, deny the youth of the world if you can, when you
+see it stop in artless ignorance before the lessons of the past, and
+begin to live on the forgotten ruins of an unknown world."
+
+"Knowledge is not power," replied Lélia. "Learning over again is not
+progress; seeing is not living. Who will give us back the power to
+act, and above all, the art of enjoying and retaining? We have gone
+too far forward now to retreat. What was merely repose for eclipsed
+civilizations will be death for our tired-out one; the rejuvenated
+nations of the East will come and intoxicate themselves with the
+poison we have poured on our soil. The bold barbarian drinkers may
+perhaps prolong the orgy of luxury a few hours into the night of time;
+but the venom we shall bequeath them will promptly be mortal for them,
+as it was for us, and all will drop back into blackness....
+
+"In fact, Sténio, do you not see that the sun is withdrawing from us?
+Is not the earth, wearied in its journey, noticeably drifting toward
+darkness and chaos? Is your blood so young and ardent as not to feel
+the touch of that chill spread like a pall over this planet abandoned
+to Fate, the most powerful of the gods? Oh, the cold! that penetrating
+pain driving sharp needles into every pore. That curst breath that
+withers flowers and burns them like fire; that pain at once physical
+and mental, which invades both soul and body, penetrates to the depths
+of thought, and paralyzes mind as well as blood! Cold--the sinister
+demon who grazes the universe with his damp wing, and breathes
+pestilence on bewildered nations! Cold, tarnishing everything,
+unrolling its gray and nebulous veil over the sky's rich tints, the
+waters' reflections, the hearts of flowers, and the cheeks of maidens!
+Cold, that casts its white winding-sheet over fields and woods and
+lakes, even over the fur and feathers of animals! Cold, that discolors
+all in the material as well as in the intellectual world; not only the
+coats of bears and hares on the shores of Archangel, but the very
+pleasures of man and the character of his habits in the spots it
+approaches! You surely see that everything is being civilized; that is
+to say, growing cold. The bronzed nations of the torrid zone are
+beginning to open their timid and suspicious hands to the snares of
+our skill; lions and tigers are being tamed, and come from the desert
+to amuse the peoples of the north. Animals which had never been able
+to grow accustomed to our climate, now leave their warm sun without
+dying, to live in domesticity among us, and even forget the proud and
+bitter sorrow which used to kill them when enslaved. It is because
+blood is congealing and growing poorer everywhere, while instinct
+grows and develops. The soul rises and leaves the earth, no longer
+sufficient for her needs."
+
+
+END OF VOL. VII.
+
+
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I, by Various, Edited by
+Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I</p>
+<p>Author: Various</p>
+<p>Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey</p>
+<p>Release Date: February 9, 2008 [eBook #24563]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS, RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. VII (OF X)--CONTINENTAL EUROPE I***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan,<br />
+ and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+ (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img class="img1" src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="RABELAIS, VOLTAIRE, HUGO, MONTAIGNE" width="500" height="763" /><br />
+<span class="caption">RABELAIS, VOLTAIRE, HUGO, MONTAIGNE</span></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Title Page" width="500" height="785" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE BEST</h1>
+<h3><i>of the</i></h3>
+<h1><span class="smcap">World's Classics</span></h1>
+
+<h4>RESTRICTED TO PROSE</h4>
+<div class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="400" height="102" /></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>HENRY CABOT LODGE</h2>
+<h4><i>Editor-in-Chief</i></h4>
+
+<h2>FRANCIS W. HALSEY</h2>
+<h4><i>Associate Editor</i></h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>With an Introduction, Biographical and<br />
+Explanatory Notes, etc.</h3>
+
+<h3>IN TEN VOLUMES</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>Vol. VII</h3>
+<h1>CONTINENTAL EUROPE&mdash;I</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>FUNK &amp; WAGNALLS COMPANY</h3>
+<h4>NEW YORK AND LONDON</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1909, <span class="smcap">by</span></h5>
+<h4>FUNK &amp; WAGNALLS COMPANY</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>The Best of the World's Classics</h2>
+
+<h2>VOL. VII</h2>
+
+<h2>CONTINENTAL EUROPE&mdash;I</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">Vol. VII&mdash;Continental Europe&mdash;I</span></h2>
+
+
+<table summary="Contents">
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td></td><td class="tocpg"><i>Page</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4" class="td1"><a href="#EARLY_CONTINENTAL_WRITERS">EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4" class="td1">354&mdash;1380</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ST_AURELIUS_AUGUSTINE">St. Aurelius Augustine</a></span>&mdash;(Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354; died in 430.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#IMPERIAL_POWER_FOR_GOOD_AND_BAD_MEN">Imperial Power for Good and Bad Men.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From Book IV, Chapter III, of "De Civitate Dei")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ANICIUS_BOETHIUS">Anicius Boethius</a></span>&mdash;(Born about 475, died about 524.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#THE_HIGHEST_HAPPINESS">The Highest Happiness.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Consolations of Philosophy." Translated by Alfred the Great)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ST_THOMAS_AQUINAS">St. Thomas Aquinas</a></span>&mdash;(Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225; died in 1274.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#A_DEFINITION_OF_HAPPINESS">A Definition of Happiness.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Ethics")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#THOMAS_A_KEMPIS">Thomas &agrave; Kempis</a></span>&mdash;(Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the Netherlands in 1471.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_ETERNAL_LIFE_AND_OF_STRIVING_FOR_IT">Of Eternal Life and of Striving for It.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Imitation of Christ")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4" class="td1"><a href="#FRANCE">FRANCE</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4" class="td1">Twelfth Century&mdash;1885</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#GEOFFREY_DE_VILLE-HARDOUIN">Geoffrey de Ville-Hardouin</a></span>&mdash;(Born between 1150 and 1165; died in 1212.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#THE_SACK_OF_CONSTANTINOPLE">The Sack of Constantinople.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Chronicles." Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#JEAN_DE_JOINVILLE">Jean de Joinville</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1224, died in 1317.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#GREEK_FIRE_IN_BATTLE">Greek Fire in Battle.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France." Translated by Thomas Johnes)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLETTE">"Aucassin and Nicolette."</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(A French romance of the 12th Century, the author's name unknown)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#JEAN_FROISSART">Jean Froissart</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1337, died in 1410.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#THE_BATTLE_OF_CRECY">The Battle of Cr&eacute;cy.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Chronicles." Translated by Thomas Johnes)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#PHILIPPE_DE_COMINES">Philippe de Comines</a></span>&mdash;(Born in France about 1445, died in 1511.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_LOUIS_XI">Of the Character of Louis XI</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Memoirs." Translated by Andrew R. Scoble)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#MARGUERITE_DANGOULEME">Marguerite d'Angoul&ecirc;me</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1492, died in 1549.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_HUSBANDS_WHO_ARE_UNFAITHFUL">Of Husbands Who Are Unfaithful.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Heptameron")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#FRANCOIS_RABELAIS">Fran&ccedil;ois Rabelais</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1495, died in 1553.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I">Gargantua in His Childhood.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by Urquhart and Motteux)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II">Gargantua's Education.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by Urquhart
+and Motteux)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#III">Of the Founding of an Ideal Abbey.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by Urquhart and Motteux)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#JOHN_CALVIN">John Calvin</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1509, died in 1564.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_FREEDOM_FOR_THE_WILL">Of Freedom for the Will.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Institutes")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#JOACHIM_DU_BELLAY">Joachim Du Bellay</a></span>&mdash;(Born about 1524, died in 1560.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#WHY_OLD_FRENCH_WAS_NOT_AS_RICH_AS_GREEK_AND_LATIN">Why Old French Was Not as Rich as Greek and Latin.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "D&eacute;fense et Illustration de la Langue Fran&ccedil;oise." Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#MICHEL_DE_MONTAIGNE">Michel De Montaigne</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1533, died in 1592.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_1">A Word to His Readers.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the preface to the "Essays." Translated by John Florio)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_1">Of Society and Solitude.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation, revised by W. C. Hazlitt)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">III</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#III_1">Of His Own Library.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation, revised by W. C. Hazlitt)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#IV">That the Soul Discharges Her Passions upon False Objects Where True Ones Are Wanting.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">V</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#V">That Men Are Not to Judge of Our Happiness Till After Death.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#RENE_DESCARTES">Ren&eacute; Descartes</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1596, died in 1650.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_MATERIAL_THINGS_AND_OF_THE_EXISTENCE_OF_GOD">Of Material Things and of the Existence of God.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Meditations." Translated by John Veitch)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#DUC_DE_LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD">Duc de la Rochefoucauld</a></span>&mdash;(Born in France in 1613, died in 1680.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#A_SELECTION_FROM_THE_MAXIMS">A Selection from the "Maxims."</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(Translated by Willis Bund and Hain Friswell)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#BLAISE_PASCAL">Blaise Pascal</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1623, died in 1662.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_THE_PREVALENCE_OF_SELF-LOVE">Of the Prevalence of Self-Love.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Thoughts." Translated by C. Kegan Paul)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#MADAME_DE_SEVIGNE">Madame de S&eacute;vign&eacute;</a></span>&mdash;(Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_2">Great News from Paris.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_2">An Imposing Funeral Described.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,1672)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALAIN_RENE_LE_SAGE">Alain Ren&eacute; Le Sage</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1668, died in 1747.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_3">In the Service of Dr. Sangrado.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_3">As an Archbishop's Favorite.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#DUC_DE_SAINT-SIMON">Duc de Saint-Simon</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1675, died in 1755.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_4">The Death of the Dauphin.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_4">The Public Watching the King and Madame.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#BARON_DE_MONTESQUIEU">Baron de Montesquieu</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1689, died in 1755.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_5">Of the Causes Which Destroyed Rome.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_5">Of the Relation of Laws to Human Beings.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Spirit of Laws." Translated by Thomas Nugent)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#FRANCOIS_AROUET_VOLTAIRE">Fran&ccedil;ois Arouet Voltaire</a></span>&mdash;(Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_6">Of Bacon's Greatness.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Letters on England")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_6">England's Regard for Men of Letters.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Letters on England")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#JEAN_JACQUES_ROUSSEAU">Jean Jacques Rousseau</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1712, died in 1778.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td><a href="#I_7">Of Christ and Socrates</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_7">Of the Management of Children.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "New H&eacute;lo&iuml;se")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#MADAME_DE_STAEL">Madame de Sta&euml;l</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1763, died in 1817.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE">Of Napoleon Bonaparte.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "Considerations on the French Revolution")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#VISCOUNT_DE_CHATEAUBRIAND">Viscount de Chateaubriand</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1768, died in 1848.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#IN_AN_AMERICAN_FOREST">In an American Forest.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "Historical Essay on Revolutions")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#FRANCOIS_GUIZOT">Fran&ccedil;ois Guizot</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1787, died in 1874.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#SHAKESPEARE_AS_AN_EXAMPLE_OF_CIVILIZATION">Shakespeare as an Example of Civilization.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "Shakespeare and His Times")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALPHONSE_DE_LAMARTINE">Alphonse de Lamartine</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1790, died in 1869.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#OF_MIRABEAUS_ORIGIN_AND_PLACE_IN_HISTORY">Of Mirabeau's Origin and Place in History.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From Book I of the "History of the Girondists." Translated by T. Ryde)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LOUIS_ADOLPHE_THIERS">Louis Adolph Thiers</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1797, died in 1877.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#THE_BURNING_OF_MOSCOW">The Burning of Moscow.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the "History of the Consulate and the Empire")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#HONORE_DE_BALZAC">Honor&eacute; de Balzac</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1799, died in 1850.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_8">The Death of P&egrave;re Goriot.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From the concluding chapter of "P&egrave;re Goriot." Translated by Helen Marri&agrave;ge)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_8">Birotteau's Early Married Life.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Rise and Fall of C&eacute;sar Birotteau." Translated by Helen Marri&agrave;ge)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALFRED_DE_VIGNY">Alfred de Vigny</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1799, died in 1863.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#RICHELIEUS_WAY_WITH_HIS_MASTER">Richelieu's Way with His Master.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "Cinq-Mars; or, The Conspiracy under Louis XIII." Translated by William C. Hazlitt)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#VICTOR_HUGO">Victor Hugo</a></span>&mdash;(Born in France in 1802, died in 1885.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">I</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#I_9">The Battle of Waterloo.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Mis&eacute;rables." Translated by Lascelles Wraxall)</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tocch">II</td><td></td><td colspan="2"><a href="#II_9">The Beginnings and Expansions of Paris.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From Book III, Chapter II, of "Notre-Dame de Paris")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ALEXANDRE_DUMAS">Alexander Dumas</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1802, died in 1870.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#THE_SHOULDER_THE_BELT_AND_THE_HANDKERCHIEF">The Shoulder, the Belt and the Handkerchief.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "The Three Musketeers")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="4"><span class="smcap"><a href="#GEORGE_SAND">George Sand</a></span>&mdash;(Born in 1804, died in 1876.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td><a href="#LELIA_AND_THE_POET">L&eacute;lia and the Poet.</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td>(From "L&eacute;lia")</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="EARLY_CONTINENTAL_WRITERS" id="EARLY_CONTINENTAL_WRITERS"></a>EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS</h2>
+
+<h2>354 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>&mdash;1471 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span></h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ST_AURELIUS_AUGUSTINE" id="ST_AURELIUS_AUGUSTINE"></a>ST. AURELIUS AUGUSTINE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>, died in 430; educated
+at Carthage; taught rhetoric at Carthage; removed to Rome in
+383; going thence to Milan in 384, where he became a friend
+of St. Ambrose; converted from Manicheanism to Christianity
+by his mother Monica, and baptized by St. Ambrose in 387;
+made Bishop of Hippo in North Africa in 395; became a
+champion of orthodoxy and the most celebrated of the fathers
+of the Latin branch of the Church; his "Confessions"
+published in 397.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IMPERIAL_POWER_FOR_GOOD_AND_BAD_MEN" id="IMPERIAL_POWER_FOR_GOOD_AND_BAD_MEN"></a>IMPERIAL POWER FOR GOOD AND BAD MEN<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Let us examine the nature of the spaciousness and continuance of
+empire, for which men give their gods such great thanks; to whom also
+they exhibited plays (that were so filthy both in actors and the
+action) without any offense of honesty. But, first, I would make a
+little inquiry, seeing you can not show such estates to be anyway
+happy, as are in continual wars, being still in terror, trouble, and
+guilt of shedding human blood, tho it be their foes; what reason then
+or what wisdom shall any man show in glorying in the largeness of
+empire, all their joy being but as a glass, bright and brittle, and
+evermore in fear and danger of breaking? To dive the deeper into this
+matter, let us not give the sails of our souls to every air of human
+breath, nor suffer our understanding's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>eye to be smoked up with the
+fumes of vain words, concerning kingdoms, provinces, nations, or so.
+No, let us take two men, let us imagine the one to be poor, or but of
+a mean estate, the other potent and wealthy; but withal, let my
+wealthy man take with him fears, sorrows, covetousness, suspicion,
+disquiet, contentions,&mdash;let these be the books for him to hold in the
+augmentation of his estate, and with all the increase of those cares,
+together with his estate; and let my poor man take with him,
+sufficiency with little, love of kindred, neighbors, friends, joyous
+peace, peaceful religion, soundness of body, sincereness of heart,
+abstinence of diet, chastity of carriage, and security of conscience.</p>
+
+<p>Where should a man find any one so sottish as would make a doubt which
+of these to prefer in his choice? Well, then, even as we have done
+with these two men, so let us do with two families, two nations, or
+two kingdoms. Lay them both to the line of equity; which done, and
+duly considered, when it is done, here doth vanity lie bare to the
+view, and there shines felicity. Wherefore it is more convenient that
+such as fear and follow the law of the true God should have the
+swaying of such empires; not so much for themselves, their piety and
+their honesty (God's admired gifts) will suffice them, both to the
+enjoying of true felicity in this life and the attaining of that
+eternal and true felicity in the next. So that here upon earth, the
+rule and regality that is given to the good man does not return him so
+much good as it does to those that are under this his rule and
+regality. But, contrariwise, the government of the wicked harms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
+themselves far more than their subjects, for it gives themselves the
+greater liberty to exercise their lusts; but for their subjects, they
+have none but their own iniquities to answer for; for what injury
+soever the unrighteous master does to the righteous servant, it is no
+scourge for his guilt, but a trial of his virtue. And therefore he
+that is good is free, tho he be a slave; and he that is evil, a slave
+tho he be king. Nor is he slave to one man, but that which is worst of
+all, unto as many masters as he affects vices; according to the
+Scriptures, speaking thus hereof: "Of whatsoever a man is overcome, to
+that he is in bondage."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> From "De Civitate Dei," Book IV, Chapter III, published
+in 426. This work, "as Englisshed" by J. Healey, was published is
+1610.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ANICIUS_BOETHIUS" id="ANICIUS_BOETHIUS"></a>ANICIUS BOETHIUS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Rome about 475, died about 524; consul in 510 and
+magister officiorum in the court of Theodoric the Goth; put
+to death by Theodoric without trial on the charge of treason
+and magic; his famous work "De Consolatione Philosophi&aelig;"
+probably written while in prison in Pavia; parts of that
+work translated by Alfred the Great and Chaucer; secured
+much influence for the works of Aristotle by his
+translations and commentaries.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_HIGHEST_HAPPINESS" id="THE_HIGHEST_HAPPINESS"></a>THE HIGHEST HAPPINESS<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>When Wisdom had sung this lay he ceased the song and was silent a
+while. Then he began to think deeply in his mind's thought, and spoke
+thus: Every mortal man troubles himself with various and manifold
+anxieties, and yet all desire, through various paths, to come to one
+end; that is, they desire, by different means, to arrive at one
+happiness; that is, to know God! He is the beginning and the end of
+every good, and He is the highest happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Then said the Mind: This, methinks, must be the highest good, so that
+man should need no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>other good, nor moreover be solicitous beyond
+that&mdash;since he possesses that which is the roof of all other goods;
+for it includes all other goods, and has all of them within it. It
+would not be the highest good if any good were external to it, because
+it would then have to desire some good which itself had not.</p>
+
+<p>Then answered Reason, and said: It is very evident that this is the
+highest happiness, for it is both the roof and floor of all good. What
+is that, then, but the best happiness, which gathers the other
+felicities all within it, and includes, and holds them within it; and
+to it there is a deficiency of none, neither has it need of any; but
+they all come from it, and again all return to it; as all waters come
+from the sea, and again all come to the sea? There is none in the
+little fountain which does not seek the sea, and again, from the sea
+it arrives at the earth, and so it flows gradually through the earth,
+till it again comes to the same fountain that it before flowed from,
+and so again to the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Now this is an example of the true goods which all mortal men desire
+to obtain, tho they by various ways think to arrive at them. For every
+man has natural good in himself, because every man desires to obtain
+the true good; but it is hindered by the transitory goods, because it
+is more prone thereto. For some men think that it is the best
+happiness that a man be so rich that he have need of nothing more; and
+they choose life accordingly. Some men think that this is the highest
+good, that he be among his fellows the most honorable of his fellows,
+and they with all energy seek this. Some think that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> the supreme good
+is in the highest power. These desire, either for themselves to rule,
+or else to associate themselves in friendship with their rulers. Some
+persuade themselves that it is the best that a man be illustrious and
+celebrated, and have good fame; they therefore seek this both in peace
+and in war. Many reckon it for the greatest good and for the greatest
+happiness, that a man be always blithe in this present life, and
+fulfil all his lusts. Some, indeed, who desire these riches, are
+desirous thereof, because they would have the greater power, that they
+may the more securely enjoy these worldly lusts, and also the riches.
+Many there are of those who desire power because they would gather
+overmuch money; or, again, they are desirous to spread the celebrity
+of their name.</p>
+
+<p>On account of such and other like frail and perishable advantages, the
+thought of every human mind is troubled with solicitude and with
+anxiety. It then imagines that it has obtained some exalted goods when
+it has won the flattery of the people; and methinks that it has bought
+a very false greatness. Some with much anxiety seek wives, that
+thereby they may, above all things, have children, and also live
+happily. True friends, then, I say, are the most precious things of
+all these worldly felicities. They are not, indeed, to be reckoned as
+worldly goods, but as divine; for deceitful fortune does not produce
+them, but God, who naturally formed them as relations. For of every
+other thing in this world man is desirous, either that he may through
+it attain to power, or else some worldly lust; except of the true
+friend, whom he loves sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> for affection and for fidelity, tho
+he expect to himself no other rewards. Nature joins and cements
+friends together with inseparable love. But with these worldly goods,
+and with this present wealth, men make oftener enemies than friends.
+By these and by many such things it may be evident to all men that all
+the bodily goods are inferior to the faculties of the soul.</p>
+
+<p>We indeed think that a man is the stronger because he is great in his
+body. The fairness, moreover, and the vigor of the body, rejoices and
+delights the man, and health makes him cheerful. In all these bodily
+felicities, men seek simple happiness, as it seems to them. For
+whatsoever every man chiefly loves above all other things, that he
+persuades himself is best for him, and that is his highest good. When,
+therefore, he has acquired that, he imagines that he may be very
+happy. I do not deny that these goods and this happiness are the
+highest good of this present life. For every man considers that thing
+best which he chiefly loves above other things; and therefore he
+persuades himself that he is very happy if he can obtain what he then
+most desires. Is not now clearly enough shown to thee the form of the
+false goods, that is, then, possessions, dignity, and power, and
+glory, and pleasure? Concerning pleasure Epicurus the philosopher
+said, when he inquired concerning all those other goods which we
+before mentioned; then said he that pleasure was the highest good,
+because all the other goods which we before mentioned gratify the mind
+and delight it, but pleasure alone chiefly gratifies the body.</p>
+
+<p>But we will still speak concerning the nature<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> of men, and concerning
+their pursuits. Tho, then, their mind and their nature be now dimmed,
+and they are by that fall sunk down to evil, and thither inclined, yet
+they are desirous, so far as they can and may, of the highest good. As
+a drunken man knows that he should go to his house and to his rest,
+and yet is not able to find the way thither, so is it also with the
+mind when it is weighed down by the anxieties of this world. It is
+sometimes intoxicated and misled by them, so far that it can not
+rightly find out good. Nor yet does it appear to those men that they
+at all err, who are desirous to obtain this, that they need labor
+after nothing more. But they think that they are able to collect
+together all these goods, so that none may be excluded from the
+number. They therefore know no other good than the collecting of all
+the most precious things into their power that they may have need of
+nothing besides them. But there is no one that has not need of some
+addition, except God alone. He has of His own enough, nor has He need
+of anything but that which He has in Himself.</p>
+
+<p>Dost thou think, however, that they foolishly imagine that that thing
+is best deserving of all estimation which they may consider most
+desirable? No, no. I know that it is not to be despised. How can that
+be evil which the mind of every man considers to be good, and strives
+after, and desires to obtain? No, it is not evil; it is the highest
+good. Why is not power to be reckoned one of the highest goods of this
+present life? Is that to be esteemed vain and useless which is the
+most useful of all those worldly things, that is, power? Is good fame
+and renown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> to be accounted nothing? No, no. It is not fit that any
+one account it nothing; for every man thinks that best which he most
+loves. Do we not know that no anxiety, or difficulties, or trouble, or
+pain, or sorrow, is happiness? What more, then, need we say about
+these felicities? Does not every man know what they are, and also know
+that they are the highest good? And yet almost every man seeks in very
+little things the best felicities; because he thinks that he may have
+them all if he have that which he then chiefly wishes to obtain. This
+is, then, what they chiefly wish to obtain, wealth, and dignity, and
+authority, and this world's glory, and ostentation, and worldly lust.
+Of all this they are desirous because they think that, through these
+things, they may obtain: that there be not to them a deficiency of
+anything wished; neither of dignity, nor of power, nor of renown, nor
+of bliss. They wish for all this, and they do well that they desire
+it, tho they seek it variously. By these things we may clearly
+perceive that every man is desirous of this, that, he may obtain the
+highest good, if they were able to discover it, or knew how to seek it
+rightly. But they do not seek it in the most right way. It is not of
+this world.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> From "The Consolations of Philosophy." The translation of
+Alfred the Great, modernized. Boethius is not usually classed as a
+Roman author, altho Gibbon said of him that he was "the last Roman
+whom Cato or Cicero could have recognized as his countryman." Chaucer
+made a translation of Boethius, which was printed by Caxton. John
+Walton made a version in 1410, which was printed at a monastery in
+1525. Another early version made by George Coluile was published in
+1556. Several others appeared in the sixteenth century.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ST_THOMAS_AQUINAS" id="ST_THOMAS_AQUINAS"></a>ST. THOMAS AQUINAS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225, died in 1274;
+entered the Dominican order; studied at Cologne under
+Albertus Magnus; taught at Cologne, Paris, Rome and Bologna;
+his chief work the "Summa Theologi&aelig;"; his complete writings
+collected in 1787.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_DEFINITION_OF_HAPPINESS" id="A_DEFINITION_OF_HAPPINESS"></a>A DEFINITION OF HAPPINESS<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The word end has two meanings. In one meaning it stands for the thing
+itself which we desire to gain: thus the miser's end is money. In
+another meaning it stands for the near attainment, or possession, or
+use, or enjoyment of the thing desired, as if one should say that the
+possession of money is the miser's end, or the enjoyment of something
+pleasant the end of the sensualist. In the first meaning of the word,
+therefore, the end of man is the Uncreated Good, namely God, who alone
+of His infinite goodness can perfectly satisfy the will of man. But
+according to the second meaning, the last end of man is something
+created, existing in himself, which is nothing else than the
+attainment or enjoyment of the last end. Now the last end is called
+happiness. If therefore the happiness of a man is considered in its
+cause or object, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>in that way it is something uncreated; but if it is
+considered in essence, in that way happiness is a created thing.</p>
+
+<p>Happiness is said to be the sovereign good of man, because it is the
+attainment or enjoyment of the sovereign good. So far as the happiness
+of man is something created, existing in the man himself, we must say
+that the happiness of man is an act. For happiness is the last
+perfection of man. But everything is perfect so far as it is in act;
+for potentiality without actuality is imperfect. Happiness, therefore,
+must consist in the last and crowning act of man. But it is manifest
+that activity is the last and crowning act of an active being; whence
+also it is called by the philosopher "the second act." And hence it is
+that each thing is said to be for the sake of its activity. It needs
+must be therefore that the happiness of man is a certain activity.</p>
+
+<p>Life has two meanings. One way it means the very being of the living,
+and in that way happiness is not life; for of God alone can it be said
+that His own being is His happiness. In another way life is taken to
+mean the activity on the part of the living thing by which activity
+the principle of life is reduced to act. Thus we speak of an active or
+contemplative life, or of a life of pleasure; and in this way the last
+end is called life everlasting, as is clear from the text: "This is
+life everlasting, that they know Thee, the only true God."</p>
+
+<p>By the definition of Boethius, that happiness is "a state made perfect
+by the aggregate sum of all things good," nothing else is meant than
+that the happy man is in a state of perfect good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> But Aristotle has
+exprest the proper essence of happiness, showing by what it is that
+man is constituted in such a state, namely, by a certain activity.</p>
+
+<p>Action is two-fold. There is one variety that proceeds from the agent
+to exterior matter, as the action of cutting and burning, and such an
+activity can not be happiness, for such activity is not an act and
+perfection of the agent, but rather of the patient. There is another
+action immanent, or remaining in the agent himself, as feeling,
+understanding, and willing. Such action is a perfection and act of the
+agent, and an activity of this sort may possibly be happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Since happiness means some manner of final perfection, happiness must
+have different meanings according to the different grades of
+perfection that there are attainable by different beings capable of
+happiness. In God is happiness by essence, because His very being is
+His activity, because He does not enjoy any other thing than Himself.
+In the angels final perfection is by way of a certain activity,
+whereby they are united to the uncreated good; and this activity is in
+them one and everlasting. In men, in the state of the present life,
+final perfection is by way of an activity whereby they are united to
+God. But this activity can not be everlasting or continuous, and by
+consequence it is not one, because an act is multiplied by
+interruption; and, therefore, in this state of the present life,
+perfect happiness is not to be had by man.</p>
+
+<p>Hence the philosopher, placing the happiness of man in this life, says
+that it is imperfect, and after much discussion he comes to this
+conclusion:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> "We call them happy, so far as happiness can be
+predicated of men." But we have a promise from God of perfect
+happiness, when we shall be "like the angels in heaven." As regards
+this perfect happiness, the objection drops, because in this state of
+happiness the mind of man is united to God by one continuous and
+everlasting activity. But in the present life, so far as we fall short
+of the unity and continuity of such an activity, so much do we lose of
+the perfection of happiness. There is, however, granted us a certain
+participation in happiness, and the more continuous and undivided the
+activity can be the more will it come up to the idea of happiness. And
+therefore in the active life, which is busied with many things, there
+is less of the essence of happiness than in the contemplative life,
+which is busy with the one occupation of the contemplation of truth.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> From the "Ethics." The complete works of Aquinas were
+published in 1787; but a new and notable edition was compiled in 1883
+under the intimate patronage of Pope Leo XIII, to whom is given credit
+for a modern revival of interest in his writings.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THOMAS_A_KEMPIS" id="THOMAS_A_KEMPIS"></a>THOMAS &Agrave; KEMPIS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the Netherlands
+in 1471; his real name Thomas Hammerken; entered an
+Augustinian convent near Zwolle in 1407; became sub-prior of
+the convent in 1423 and again in 1447; generally accepted as
+the author of "The Imitation of Christ."</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_ETERNAL_LIFE_AND_OF_STRIVING_FOR_IT" id="OF_ETERNAL_LIFE_AND_OF_STRIVING_FOR_IT"></a>OF ETERNAL LIFE AND OF STRIVING FOR IT<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Son, when thou perceivest the desire of eternal bliss to be infused
+into thee from above, and thou wouldst fain go out of the tabernacle
+of this body, that thou mightest contemplate My brightness without any
+shadow of change&mdash;enlarge thy heart, and receive this holy inspiration
+with thy whole desire.</p>
+
+<p>Return the greatest thanks to the Supreme Goodness, which dealeth so
+condescendingly with thee, mercifully visiteth thee, ardently inciteth
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>thee, and powerfully raiseth thee up, lest by thy own weight thou
+fall down to the things of earth.</p>
+
+<p>For it is not by thy own thoughtfulness or endeavor that thou
+receivest this, but by the mere condescension of heavenly grace and
+divine regard; that so thou mayest advance in virtues and greater
+humility, and prepare thyself for future conflicts, and labor with the
+whole affection of thy heart to keep close to Me, and serve Me with a
+fervent will.</p>
+
+<p>Son, the fire often burneth, but the flame ascendeth not without
+smoke.</p>
+
+<p>And so the desires of some are on fire after heavenly things, and yet
+they are not free from the temptation of carnal affection.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore is it not altogether purely for God's honor that they act,
+when they so earnestly petition Him.</p>
+
+<p>Such also is oftentimes thy desire, which thou hast profest to be so
+importunate.</p>
+
+<p>For that is not pure and perfect which, is alloyed with self-interest.</p>
+
+<p>Ask not that which is pleasant and convenient, but that which is
+acceptable to Me and My honor; for if thou judgest rightly, thou
+oughtest to prefer and to follow My appointment rather than thine own
+desire or any other desirable thing.</p>
+
+<p>I know thy desire, and I have often heard thy groanings.</p>
+
+<p>Thou wouldst wish to be already in the liberty of the glory of the
+children of God.</p>
+
+<p>Now doth the eternal dwelling, and the heavenly country full of
+festivity, delight thee.</p>
+
+<p>But that hour is not yet come; for there is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> yet another time, a time
+of war, a time of labor and of probation.</p>
+
+<p>Thou desirest to be filled with the Sovereign Good, but thou canst not
+at present attain to it.</p>
+
+<p>I am He: wait for Me, saith the Lord, until the kingdom of God come.</p>
+
+<p>Thou hast yet to be tried upon earth and exercised in many things.</p>
+
+<p>Consolation shall sometimes be given thee, but abundant satiety shall
+not be granted thee.</p>
+
+<p>Take courage, therefore, and be valiant, as well in doing as in
+suffering things repugnant to nature.</p>
+
+<p>Thou must put on the new man, and be changed into another person.</p>
+
+<p>That which thou wouldst not, thou must oftentimes do; and that which
+thou wouldst, thou must leave undone.</p>
+
+<p>What pleaseth others shall prosper, what is pleasing to thee shall not
+succeed.</p>
+
+<p>What others say shall be harkened to; what thou sayest shall be
+reckoned as naught.</p>
+
+<p>Others shall ask, and shall receive; thou shalt ask, and not obtain.</p>
+
+<p>Others shall be great in the esteem of men; about thee nothing shall
+be said.</p>
+
+<p>To others this or that shall be committed; but thou shalt be accounted
+as of no use.</p>
+
+<p>At this nature will sometimes repine, and it will be a great matter if
+thou bear it with silence.</p>
+
+<p>In these, and many such-like things, the faithful servant of the Lord
+is wont to be tried how far he can deny and break himself in all
+things.</p>
+
+<p>There is scarce anything in which thou standest so much in need of
+dying to thyself as in seeing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> and suffering things that are contrary
+to thy will, and more especially when those things are commanded which
+seem to thee inconvenient and of little use.</p>
+
+<p>And because, being under authority, thou darest not resist the higher
+power, therefore it seemeth to thee hard to walk at the beck of
+another, and wholly to give up thy own opinion.</p>
+
+<p>But consider, son, the fruit of these labors, their speedy
+termination, and their reward exceeding great; and thou wilt not hence
+derive affliction, but the most strengthening consolation in thy
+suffering.</p>
+
+<p>For in regard to that little of thy will which thou now willingly
+forsakest, thou shalt forever have thy will in heaven.</p>
+
+<p>For there thou shalt find all that thou willest, all that thou canst
+desire.</p>
+
+<p>There shall be to thee the possession of every good, without fear of
+losing it.</p>
+
+<p>There thy will, always one with Me, shall not covet any extraneous or
+private thing. There no one shall resist thee, no one complain of
+thee, no one obstruct thee, nothing shall stand in thy way; but every
+desirable good shall be present at the same moment, shall replenish
+all thy affections and satiate them to the full.</p>
+
+<p>There I will give thee glory for the contumely thou hast suffered; a
+garment of praise for thy sorrow; and for having been seated here in
+the lowest place, the throne of My kingdom forever.</p>
+
+<p>There will the fruit of obedience appear, there will the labor of
+penance rejoice, and humble subjection shall be gloriously crowned.</p>
+
+<p>Now, therefore, bow thyself down humbly under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> the hands of all, and
+heed not who it was that said or commanded this.</p>
+
+<p>But let it be thy great care, that whether thy superior or inferior or
+equal require anything of thee, or hint at anything, thou take all in
+good part, and labor with a sincere will to perform it.</p>
+
+<p>Let one seek this, another that; let this man glory in this thing,
+another in that, and be praised a thousand thousand times: but thou,
+for thy part, rejoice neither in this nor in that, but in the contempt
+of thyself, and in My good pleasure and honor alone.</p>
+
+<p>This is what thou hast to wish for, that whether in life or in death,
+God may be always glorified in thee.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> From "The Imitation of Christ." Altho commonly ascribed
+to Thomas &agrave; Kempis, there has been much controversy as to the real
+authorship of this famous work. Many early editions bear the name of
+Thomas, including one of the year 1471, which is sometimes thought to
+be the first. As against his authorship it is contended that he was a
+professional copyist, and that the use of his name in the first
+edition conformed to a custom that belonged more to a transcriber than
+to an author. One of the earliest English versions of Thomas &agrave; Kempis
+was made by Wyllyam Atkynson and printed by Wykyns de Worde in 1502. A
+translation by Edward Hake appeared in 1567. Many other early English
+editions are known.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRANCE" id="FRANCE"></a>FRANCE</h2>
+
+<h2>TWELFTH CENTURY&mdash;1885</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="GEOFFREY_DE_VILLE-HARDOUIN" id="GEOFFREY_DE_VILLE-HARDOUIN"></a>GEOFFREY DE VILLE-HARDOUIN</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born between 1150 and 1165, died in 1212; marshal of
+Champagne in 1191; joined the Crusade in 1199 under
+Theobault III; negotiated successfully with Venice for the
+transfer of the Crusaders by sea to the Holy Land; followed
+the Crusade and chronicled all its events from 1198 to 1207.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_SACK_OF_CONSTANTINOPLE" id="THE_SACK_OF_CONSTANTINOPLE"></a>THE SACK OF CONSTANTINOPLE<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></h2>
+
+<h2>(1204)</h2>
+
+
+<p>This night passed and the day came which was Thursday morning (13
+April, 1204), and then every one in the camp armed themselves, the
+knights and the soldiers, and each one joined his battle corps. The
+Marquis of Montferrat advanced toward the palace of Bucoleon; and
+having occupied it, determined to spare the lives of all those he
+found therein. There were found there women of the highest rank, and
+of the most honorable character; the sister of the King of France who
+had been an empress; and the sister <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>of the King of Hungary, and other
+women of quality. Of the treasure that there was in the palace, I can
+not speak; for there was so much that it was without end or measure.
+Besides this palace which was surrendered to the Marquis Boniface of
+Montferrat, that of Blachem was surrendered to Henry, brother of Count
+Baldwin of Flanders.</p>
+
+<p>The booty that was found here was so great that it can only be
+compared to that which was found in Bucoleon.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Each soldier filled
+the room that was assigned to him with plunder and had the treasure
+guarded; and the others who were scattered through the city also had
+their share of spoil. And the booty obtained was so great that it is
+impossible for me to estimate it,&mdash;gold and silver and plate and
+precious stones,&mdash;rich altar cloths and vestments of silk and robes of
+ermine, and treasure that had been buried under the ground. And truly
+doth testify Geoffrey of Ville-Hardouin, Marshal of Champagne, when he
+says that never in the whole of history had a city yielded so much
+plunder. Every man took as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>much as he could carry, and there was
+enough for every one.</p>
+
+<p>Thus fared the Crusaders and the Venetians, and so great was the joy
+and the honor of the victory that God had given them, that those who
+had been in poverty were rich and living in luxury. Thus was passed
+Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday in the honor and joy which God had
+granted them. And they had good cause to be grateful to our Lord, for
+they had no more than twenty thousand armed men among them all, and by
+the grace of God they had captured four hundred thousand or more, and
+that in the strongest city in the world (that is to say, city of any
+size), and the best fortified.</p>
+
+<p>Then it was announced throughout the whole army by the Marquis
+Boniface of Montferrat, who was head of the army, and by the barons
+and the Doge of Venice, that all the booty should be collected and
+assessed under pain of excommunication. And the places were chosen in
+three churches; and they put over them as guards French and Venetians,
+the most loyal that they could find, and then each man began to bring
+his booty and put it together. Some acted uprightly and others not,
+for covetousness which is the root of all evil, prevented them; but
+the covetous began from this moment to keep things back and our Lord
+began to like them less. Oh God, how loyally they had behaved up to
+that moment, and the Lord God had shown them that in everything He had
+honored and favored them above all other people, and now the righteous
+began to suffer for the wicked.</p>
+
+<p>The plunder and the booty were collected; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> you must know that it
+was not all equally divided, for there were a number of those who
+retained a share in spite of the dread of Papal excommunication.
+Whatever was brought to the churches was collected and divided between
+the French and Venetians equally as had been arranged. And you must
+know that the Crusaders, when they had divided, paid on their part
+fifty thousand marks of silver to the Venetians, and as for themselves
+they divided a good hundred thousand among their own people. And do
+you know how it was divided? Each horseman received double the share
+of a foot soldier, and each knight double the share of a horseman. And
+you must know that never did a man, either through his rank and
+prowess receive anything more than had been arranged, unless it was
+stolen.</p>
+
+<p>As for the thefts, those who were convicted of guilt, you must know
+were dealt with summarily and there were enough people hung. The Count
+of St. Paul hung one of his knights with his horse collar round his
+neck, because he had kept something back, and there were a number who
+kept things back, much and little, but this is not known for certain.</p>
+
+<p>You may be assured that the booty was great, for not counting what was
+stolen and the share that fell to the Venetians, a good four hundred
+thousand marks of silver were brought back, and as many as ten
+thousand animals of one kind and another. The plunder of
+Constantinople was divided thus as you have heard.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> From the "Chronicles." This work is important; first, as
+a record, generally accepted as eminently trustworthy, and second, for
+its literary excellence, in which sense it has been held in peculiar
+esteem. George Saintsbury remarks that those chronicles "are by
+universal consent among the most attractive works of the Middle Ages."
+They comprize one of the oldest extant examples of French prose. The
+passage here given was translated for this collection from the old
+French by Eric Arthur Bell. A translation by T. Smith was published in
+1829.
+</p><p>
+This sack of Constantinople followed what is known as the Latin
+Conquest. More than thirty sieges of the city have occurred. After the
+conquest here referred to Constantinople was occupied by the Latins.
+It was finally wrested from them by Michael Pal&aelig;ologus. The conquest
+of 1204 was achieved during the Fourth Crusade. By Latin Conquest is
+meant a conquest by Western Christians as against its long-time Greek
+rulers. This conquest was also inspired by the commercial ambition of
+the Venetians, who had long coveted what were believed to be the
+fabulous riches of the city. The Latin Empire survived for fifty-six
+years in a state of almost constant weakness. The conquest had no
+direct relation to the original purpose of the Crusades, which was the
+recovery of Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> One of the districts into which the city was divided.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JEAN_DE_JOINVILLE" id="JEAN_DE_JOINVILLE"></a>JEAN DE JOINVILLE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born about 1224; died in 1317; attended Louis IX in the
+Seventh Crusade, spending six years in the East; his
+"Memoirs of Louis IX," presented by him in 1309 to the great
+grandson of Louis, and first published in 1547.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="GREEK_FIRE_IN_BATTLE" id="GREEK_FIRE_IN_BATTLE"></a>GREEK FIRE IN BATTLE<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Not long after this, the chief of the Turks, before named, crost with
+his army into the island that lies between the Rexi and Damietta
+branches, where our army was encamped, and formed a line of battle,
+extending from one bank of the river to the other. The Count d'Anjou,
+who was on the spot, attacked the Turks, and defeated them so
+completely that they took to flight, and numbers were drowned in each
+of the branches of the Nile.</p>
+
+<p>A large body, however, kept their ground, whom we dared not attack, on
+account of their numerous machines, by which they did us great injury
+with the divers things cast from them. During the attack on the Turks
+by the Count d'Anjou, the Count Guy de Ferrois, who was in his company
+galloped through the Turkish force, attended by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>his knights, until
+they came to another battalion of Saracens, where they performed
+wonders. But at last he was thrown to the ground with a broken leg,
+and was led back by two of his knights, supporting him by the arms.</p>
+
+<p>You must know there was difficulty in withdrawing the Count d'Anjou
+from this attack, wherein he was frequently in the utmost danger, and
+was ever after greatly honored for it.</p>
+
+<p>Another large body of Turks made an attack on the Count de Poitiers
+and me; but be assured they were very well received, and served in
+like manner. It was well for them that they found their way back by
+which they had come; but they left behind great numbers of slain. We
+returned safely to our camp scarcely having lost any of our men.</p>
+
+<p>One night the Turks brought forward an engine, called by them La
+Perriere, a terrible engine to do mischief, and placed it opposite to
+the chas-chateils, which Sir Walter De Curel and I were guarding by
+night. From this engine they flung such quantities of Greek fire, that
+it was the most horrible sight ever witnessed. When my companion, the
+good Sir Walter, saw this shower of fire, he cried out, "Gentlemen, we
+are all lost without remedy; for should they set fire to our
+chas-chateils we must be burnt; and if we quit our post we are for
+ever dishonored; from which I conclude, that no one can possibly save
+us from this peril but God, our benignant Creator; I therefore advise
+all of you, whenever they throw any of this Greek fire, to cast
+yourselves on your hands and knees, and cry for mercy to our Lord, in
+whom alone resides all power."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As soon, therefore, as the Turks threw their fires, we flung ourselves
+on our hands and knees, as the wise man had advised; and this time
+they fell between our two cats into a hole in front, which our people
+had made to extinguish them; and they were instantly put out by a man
+appointed for that purpose. This Greek fire, in appearance, was like a
+large tun, and its tail was of the length of a long spear; the noise
+which it made was like to thunder; and it seemed a great dragon of
+fire flying through the air, giving so great a light with its flame,
+that we saw in our camp as clearly as in broad day. Thrice this night
+did they throw the fire from La Perriere, and four times from
+cross-bows.</p>
+
+<p>Each time that our good King St. Louis heard them make these
+discharges of fire, he cast himself on the ground, and with extended
+arms and eyes turned to the heavens, cried with a loud voice to our
+Lord, and shedding heavy tears, said "Good Lord God Jesus Christ,
+preserve thou me, and all my people"; and believe me, his sincere
+prayers were of great service to us. At every time the fire fell near
+us, he sent one of his knights to know how we were, and if the fire
+had hurt us. One of the discharges from the Turks fell beside a
+chas-chateil, guarded by the men of the Lord Courtenay, struck the
+bank of the river in front, and ran on the ground toward them, burning
+with flame. One of the knights of this guard instantly came to me,
+crying out, "Help us, my lord, or we are burnt; for there is a long
+train of Greek fire, which the Saracens have discharged, that is
+running straight for our castle."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> From the "Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France," commonly
+called St. Louis. The passage here given is from Joinville's account
+of a battle between Christians and Saracens, fought near the Damietta
+branch of the Nile in 1240. Mr. Saintsbury remarks that Joinville's
+work "is one of the most circumstantial records we have of medieval
+life and thought." It was translated by Thomas Johnes, of Hafod, and
+is now printed in Bohn's library.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLETTE" id="AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLETTE"></a>AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Aucassin and Nicolette" is the title of a French romance of
+the thirteenth century, the name of the author being
+unknown. The only extant manuscript of the story is
+preserved in the National Library of France. Several
+translations into English are well known, among them those
+by Augustus R. MacDonough, F. W. Bourdillon and Andrew Lang.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>How the Count Bougart of Valence made war on Count Garin of
+Beaucaire,&mdash;war so great, so marvelous, and so mortal that never a day
+dawned but always he was there, by the gates and walls and barriers of
+the town, with a hundred knights, and ten thousand men-at-arms,
+horsemen and footmen: so burned he the count's land, and spoiled his
+country, and slew his men. Now, the Count Garin de Beaucaire was old
+and frail, and his good days were gone over. No heir had he, neither
+son nor daughter, save one young man only; such an one as I shall tell
+you. Aucassin was the name of the damoiseau: fair was he, goodly, and
+great, and featly fashioned of his body and limbs. His hair was
+yellow, in little curls, his eyes blue-gray and laughing, his face
+beautiful and shapely, his nose high and well set, and so richly seen
+was he in all things good, that in him was none evil at all. But so
+suddenly was he overtaken of Love, who is a great master, that he
+would not, of his will, be a knight, nor take arms, nor follow
+tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed. Therefore his father and
+mother said to him:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Son, go take thine arms, mount thine horse, and hold thy land, and
+help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will they
+keep in battle their lives and lands, and thine and mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," answered Aucassin, "what are you saying now? Never may God
+give me aught of my desire, if I be a knight, or mount my horse, or
+face stour and battle wherein knights smite and are smitten again,
+unless thou give me Nicolette, my true love, that I love so well."</p>
+
+<p>"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolette go. A
+slave-girl is she, out of a strange land, and the viscount of this
+town bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath
+reared her and had her christened, and made her his god-daughter, and
+one day will find a young man for her, to win her bread honorably.
+Herein hast thou naught to make nor mend; but if a wife thou wilt
+have, I will give thee the daughter of a king, or a count. There is no
+man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter, thou shall
+have her."</p>
+
+<p>"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so high
+in all the world, that Nicolette, my sweet lady and love, would not
+grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of Germany, or
+Queen of France or England, it were little enough for her; so gentle
+is she and courteous, and debonnaire, and compact of all good
+qualities."</p>
+
+<p>When Count Garin de Beaucaire knew that he would not avail to withdraw
+Aucassin, his son, from the love of Nicolette, he went to the viscount
+of the city, who was his man, and spake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> to him saying: "Sir Count:
+away with Nicolette, thy daughter in God; curst be the land whence she
+was brought into this country, for by reason of her do I lose
+Aucassin, that will neither be a knight, nor do aught of the things
+that fall to him to be done. And wit ye well," he said, "that if I
+might have her at my will, I would turn her in a fire, and yourself
+might well be sore adread."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," said the viscount, "this is grievous to me that he comes and
+goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maid at mine own
+charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my daughter in
+God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that should win her
+bread honorably. With this had Aucassin, thy son, naught to make or
+mend. But sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I will send her into
+that land and that country where never will he see her with his eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin: "thence might great
+evil come on thee."</p>
+
+<p>So parted they each from the other. Now the viscount was a right rich
+man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an upper
+chamber thereof he had Nicolette placed, with one old woman to keep
+her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine and such,
+things as were needful. Then he had the door sealed, that none might
+come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over against the
+garden, and quite strait, through which came to them a little air....</p>
+
+<p>Aucassin was cast into prison as ye have heard tell, and Nicolette, of
+her part, was in the chamber.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> Now it was summer-time, the month of
+May, when days are warm, and long, and clear, and the nights still and
+serene. Nicolette lay one night on her bed, and saw the moon shine
+clear through a window, and heard the nightingale sing in the garden,
+and she minded her of Aucassin her friend, whom she loved so well.
+Then fell she to thoughts of Count Garin of Beaucaire, that he hated
+her to death; and therefore deemed she that there she would no longer
+abide, for that, if she were told of, and the count knew where she
+lay, an ill death he would make her die. She saw that the old woman
+was sleeping, who held her company. Then she arose, and clad her in a
+mantle of silk she had by her, very goodly, and took sheets of the bed
+and towels and knotted one to the other, and made therewith a cord as
+long as she might, and knotted it to a pillar in the window, and let
+herself slip down into the garden; then caught up her raiment in both
+hands, behind and before, and kilted up her kirtle, because of the dew
+that she saw lying deep on the grass, and so went on her way down
+through the garden.</p>
+
+<p>Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue-gray and smiling, her
+face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red
+than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth white and small; and
+her breasts so firm that they bore up the folds of her bodice as they
+had been two walnuts; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands
+might have clipt her; and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as
+she went tiptoe, and that bent above her instep, seemed black against
+her feet and ankles, so white was the maiden. She came to the
+postern-gate, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> unbarred it, and went out through the streets of
+Beaucaire, keeping always on the shadowy side, for the moon was
+shining right clear, and so wandered she till she came to the tower
+where her lover lay. The tower was flanked with pillars, and she
+cowered under one of them, wrapt in her mantle. Then thrust she her
+head through a crevice of the tower, that was old and worn, and heard
+Aucassin, who was weeping within, and making dole and lament for the
+sweet friend he loved so well. And when she had listened to him some
+time she began to speak....</p>
+
+<p>When Aucassin heard Nicolette say that she would pass into a far
+country, he was all in wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"Fair, sweet friend," quoth he, "thou shalt not go, for then wouldst
+thou be my death. And the first man that saw thee and had the might
+withal, would take thee straightway into his bed to be his leman. And
+once thou camest into a man's bed, and that bed not mine, wit ye well
+that I would not tarry till I had found a knife to pierce my heart and
+slay myself. Nay, verily, wait so long I would not; but would hurl
+myself so far as I might see a wall, or a black stone, and I would
+dash my head against it so mightily that the eyes would start and my
+brain burst. Rather would I die even such a death than know that thou
+hadst lain in a man's bed, and that bed not mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Aucassin," she said, "I trow thou lovest me not as much as thou
+sayest, but I love thee more than thou lovest me."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, fair, sweet friend," said Aucassin, "it may not be that thou
+shouldest love me even as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> love thee. Woman may not love man as man
+loves woman; for a woman's love lies in her eye, and the bud of her
+breast, and her foot's tiptoe, but the love of a man is in his heart
+planted, whence it can never issue forth and pass away."</p>
+
+<p>Now when Aucassin and Nicolette were holding this parley together, the
+town's watchmen were coming down a street, with swords drawn beneath
+their cloaks, for Count Garin had charged them that if they could take
+her, they should slay her. But the sentinel that was on the tower saw
+them coming, and heard them speaking of Nicolette as they went, and
+threatening to slay her.</p>
+
+<p>"God," quoth he, "this were great pity to slay so fair a maid! Right
+great charity it were if I could say aught to her, and they perceive
+it not, and she should be on her guard against them, for if they slay
+her, then were Aucassin, my damoiseau, dead, and that were great
+pity."...</p>
+
+<p>Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after Nicolette,
+and his horse bare him furiously. Think ye not that the thorns him
+spared, nor the briers, nay, not so, but tare his raiment, that scarce
+a knot might be tied with the soundest part thereof, and the blood
+spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, in forty places, or
+thirty, so that behind the Childe men might follow on the track of his
+blood in the grass. But so much he went in thoughts of Nicolette, his
+lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor torment, and all the day hurled
+through the forest in this fashion nor heard no word of her. And when
+he saw vespers draw nigh, he began to weep for that he found her not.
+All down an old road, and grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+along the way before him, he saw such an one as I shall tell you. Tall
+was he, and great of growth, ugly and hideous: his head huge, and
+blacker than charcoal, and more than the breadth of a hand between his
+two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big
+nostrils and wide, and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth
+yellow and ugly, and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide,
+bound with cords of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great
+cloak two-fold; and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin
+came unto him, and was afraid when he beheld him.</p>
+
+<p>So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night was
+fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of
+boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, over
+and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be
+seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopt suddenly, and the light
+of the moon fell therein.</p>
+
+<p>"Forsooth!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, and
+this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness of it,
+and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this night
+long."</p>
+
+<p>He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was
+great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right sweet
+friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his shoulder out
+of its place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore; nathless he bore him
+with that force he might, and fastened his horse with the other hand
+to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the
+lodge of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> boughs. And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the
+stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he
+to speak....</p>
+
+<p>When Nicolette heard Aucassin, she came to him, for she was not far
+away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his neck,
+clipt him and kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Fair, sweet friend, welcome be thou!"</p>
+
+<p>"And thou, fair, sweet love, be thou welcome!"</p>
+
+<p>So either kissed and clipt the other, and fair joy was them between.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and my
+shoulder wried, but I take no heed of it, nor have no hurt therefrom,
+since I have thee."</p>
+
+<p>Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its place.
+And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought in her
+surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back into its
+place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves green, and
+bound them on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he was all
+healed....</p>
+
+<p>When all they of the court heard her speak thus, that she was daughter
+to the King of Carthage, they knew well that she spake truly; so made
+they great joy of her, and led her to the castle with great honor, as
+a king's daughter. And they would have given her to her lord a king of
+Paynim, but she had no mind to marry. There dwelt she three days or
+four. And she considered by what device she might seek for Aucassin.
+Then she got her a viol, and learned to play on it; till they would
+have married her one day to a rich<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> king of Paynim, and she stole
+forth by night, and came to the seaport, and dwelt with a poor woman
+thereby. Then took she a certain herb, and therewith smeared her head
+and her face, till she was all brown and stained. And she had a coat,
+and mantle, and smock, and breeches made, and attired herself as if
+she had been a minstrel. So took she the viol and went to a mariner,
+and so wrought on him that he took her aboard his vessel. Then hoisted
+they sail, and fared on the high seas even till they came to the land
+of Provence. And Nicolette went forth and took the viol, and went
+playing through all the country, even till she came to the castle of
+Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JEAN_FROISSART" id="JEAN_FROISSART"></a>JEAN FROISSART</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1337, died in 1410; went to England in
+1360 by invitation of Queen Philippa, a French woman;
+visited Scotland in 1365 and Italy in 1368, where he met
+Petrarch, and Chaucer; published his "Chronicles," covering
+events from 1325 until about 1400, at the close of the
+fifteenth century, the same being one of the first books
+printed from movable types; the modern edition comprizes
+twenty-five volumes.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_BATTLE_OF_CRECY" id="THE_BATTLE_OF_CRECY"></a>THE BATTLE OF CR&Eacute;CY<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></h2>
+
+<h2>(1346)</h2>
+
+
+<p>The Englishmen, who were in three battles lying on the ground to rest
+them, as soon as they saw the Frenchmen approach, they rose upon their
+feet fair and easily without any haste, and arranged their battles.
+The first, which was the Prince's battle, the archers there stood in
+manner of a herse and the men of arms in the bottom of the battle. The
+Earl of Northampton and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>Earl of Arundel with the second battle
+were on a wing in good order, ready to comfort the Prince's battle, if
+need were.</p>
+
+<p>The lords and knights of France came not to the assembly together in
+good order, for some came before and some came after, in such haste
+and evil order that one of them did trouble another. When the French
+King saw the Englishmen his blood changed, and said to his marshals,
+"Make the Genoways go on before, and begin the battle, in the name of
+God and St. Denis." There were of the Genoways' cross-bows about a
+fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going afoot that day a six
+leagues armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their
+constables, "We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not
+in the case to do any great deed of arms: we have more need of rest."
+These words came to the Earl of Alen&ccedil;on, who said, "A man is well at
+ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail
+now at most need." Also the same season there fell a great rain and a
+clipse with a terrible thunder, and before the rain there came flying
+over both battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest
+coming.</p>
+
+<p>Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and
+bright, the which was right in the Frenchmen's eyen and on the
+Englishmen's backs. When the Genoways were assembled together and
+began to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the
+Englishmen, but they stood still and stirred not for all that; then
+the Genoways again the second time made another leap and a fell cry,
+and stept forward a little, and the Englishmen removed not one foot;
+thirdly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> again they leapt and cried, and went forth till they came
+within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the
+English archers stept forth one pace and let fly their arrows so
+wholly and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoways felt the
+arrows piercing through heads, arms, and breasts, many of them cast
+down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings and returned
+discomfited. When the French King saw them fly away, he said, "Slay
+these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason."</p>
+
+<p>Then ye should have seen the men of arms dash in among them and killed
+a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas
+they saw thickest press the sharp arrows ran into the men of arms and
+into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, among the Genoways,
+and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was
+so thick that one overthrew another. And also among the Englishmen
+there were certain rascals that went afoot with great knives, and they
+went in among the men of arms and slew and murdered many as they lay
+on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires; whereof the
+King of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been
+taken prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>The valiant King of Bohemia called Charles of Luxembourg, son to the
+noble Emperor Henry of Luxembourg, for all that he was nigh blind,
+when he understood the order of the battle, he said to them about him,
+"Where is the Lord Charles my son?" His men said, "Sir, we can not
+tell; we think he be fighting." Then he said, "Sirs, ye are my men, my
+companions and friends in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> journey: I require you bring me so far
+forward that I may strike one stroke with my sword." They said they
+would do his commandment, and to the intent that they should not lose
+him in the press, they tied all their reins of their bridles each to
+other and set the King before to accomplish his desire, and so they
+went on their enemies. The Lord Charles of Bohemia his son, who wrote
+himself King of Almaine and bare the arms, he came in good order to
+the battle; but when he saw that the matter went awry on their party,
+he departed, I can not tell you which way. The King his father was so
+far forward that he strake a stroke with his sword, yea, and more than
+four, and fought valiantly, and so did his company; and they
+adventured themselves so forward that they were there all slain, and
+the next day they were found in the place about the King, and all
+their horses tied each to other.</p>
+
+<p>The Earl of Alen&ccedil;on came to the battle right ordinately and fought
+with the Englishmen, and the Earl of Flanders also on his part. These
+two lords with their companies coasted the English archers and came to
+the Prince's battle, and there fought valiantly long. The French King
+would fain have come thither, when he saw their banners, but there was
+a great hedge of archers before him. The same day the French King had
+given a great black courser to Sir John of Hainault, and he made the
+Lord Thierry of Senzeille to ride on him and to bear his banner. The
+same horse took the bridle in the teeth and brought him through all
+the currours of the Englishmen, and as he would have returned again,
+he fell in a great dike and was sore hurt, and had been there dead,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+and his page had not been, who followed him through all the battles
+and saw where his master lay in the dike, and had none other let but
+for his horse; for the Englishmen would not issue out of their battle
+for taking of any prisoner. Then the page alighted and relieved his
+master: then he went not back again the same way that they came; there
+was too many in his way.</p>
+
+<p>This battle between Broye and Cr&eacute;cy this Saturday was right cruel and
+fell, and many a feat of arms done that came not to my knowledge. In
+the night divers knights and squires lost their masters, and sometime
+came on the Englishmen, who received them in such wise that they were
+ever nigh slain; for there was none taken to mercy nor to ransom, for
+so the Englishmen were determined.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning the day of the battle certain Frenchmen and Almains
+perforce opened the archers of the Prince's battle, and came and
+fought with the men of arms hand to hand. Then the second battle of
+the Englishmen came to succor the Prince's battle, the which was time,
+for they had as then much ado; and they with the Prince sent a
+messenger to the King, who was on a little windmill hill. Then the
+knight said to the King, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick and the Earl of
+Oxford, Sir Raynold Cobham and other, such as be about the Prince your
+son, are fiercely fought withal and are sore handled; wherefore they
+desire you that you and your battle will come and aid them; for if the
+Frenchmen increase, as they doubt they will, your son and they shall
+have much ado." Then the King said, "Is my son dead, or hurt, or on
+the earth felled?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> "No, sir," quoth the knight, "but he is hardly
+matched; wherefore he hath need of your aid." "Well," said the King,
+"return to him and to them that sent you hither, and say to them that
+they send no more to me for any adventure that falleth, as long as my
+son is alive: and also say to them that they suffer him this day to
+win his spurs; for if God be pleased, I will this journey be his and
+the honor thereof, and to them that be about him." Then the knight
+returned again to them and shewed the King's words, the which, greatly
+encouraged them, and repined in that they had sent to the King as they
+did.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Godfrey of Harcourt would gladly that the Earl of Harcourt, his
+brother, might have been saved; for he heard say by them that saw his
+banner how that he was there in the field on the French party: but Sir
+Godfrey could not come to him betimes, for he was slain or he could
+come at him, and so was also the Earl of Aumale his nephew. In another
+place the Earl of Alen&ccedil;on and the Earl of Flanders fought valiantly,
+every lord under his own banner; but finally they could not resist
+against the puissance of the Englishmen, and so there they were also
+slain, and divers other knights and squires. Also the Earl Louis of
+Blois, nephew to the French King, and the Duke of Lorraine, fought
+under their banners; but at last they were closed in among a company
+of Englishmen and Welshmen, and there were slain for all their
+prowess. Also there was slain the Earl of Auxerre, the Earl of
+Saint-Pol, and many other.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening the French King, who had left about him no more than a
+threescore persons, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> and other, whereof Sir John of Hainault was
+one, who had remounted once the King, for his horse was slain with an
+arrow, then he said to the King, "Sir, depart hence, for it is time;
+lose not yourself willfully: if ye have loss at this time, ye shall
+recover it again another season." And so he took the King's horse by
+the bridle and led him away in a manner perforce. Then the King rode
+till he came to the castle of Broye. The gate was closed, because it
+was by that time dark: then the King called the captain, who came to
+the walls and said, "Who is that calleth there this time of night?"
+Then the King said, "Open your gate quickly, for this is the fortune
+of France." The captain knew then it was the King, and opened the gate
+and let down the bridge. Then the King entered, and he had with him
+but five barons, Sir John of Hainault, Sir Charles of Montmorency, the
+Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord d'Aubigny, and the Lord of Montsault. The
+King would not tarry there, but drank and departed thence about
+midnight, and so rode by such guides as knew the country till he came
+in the morning to Amiens, and there he rested.</p>
+
+<p>This Saturday the Englishmen never departed from their battles for
+chasing of any man, but kept still their field, and ever defended
+themselves against all such as came to assail them This battle ended
+about evensong time.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The field of Cr&eacute;cy lies about thirty miles northwest of
+Amiens, in France. The English under Edward III, numbering about
+40,000 men, here defeated the French under Philip VI, numbering 80,000
+men, the French loss being commonly placed at 30,000.
+</p><p>
+Of the merits of Froissart, only one opinion has prevailed. He drew a
+faithful and vivid picture of events which in the main were personally
+known to him. "No more graphic account exists of any age," says one
+writer. Froissart was first translated into English in 1525 by
+Bourchier, Lord Berners, That translation was superseded later by
+others. In 1802-1805 Thomas Johnes made another translation, which has
+since been the one chiefly read.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PHILIPPE_DE_COMINES" id="PHILIPPE_DE_COMINES"></a>PHILIPPE DE COMINES</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France about 1445, died in 1511; after serving
+Charles the Bold, went over to Louis XI, in whose household
+he was a confidant and adviser; arrested on political
+charges in 1486 and imprisoned more than two years; arrested
+later by Charles VIII and exiled for ten years; returning to
+court, he fell into disgrace, went into retirement and wrote
+his "Memoirs," the first series covering the history of
+France between 1464 and 1483, the second, the period from
+1494 to 1498.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_LOUIS_XI" id="OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_LOUIS_XI"></a>OF THE CHARACTER OF LOUIS XI<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have seen many deceptions in this world, especially in servants
+toward their masters; and I have always found that proud and stately
+princes who will hear but few, are more liable to be imposed upon than
+those who are open and accessible: but of all the princes that I ever
+knew, the wisest and most dexterous to extricate himself out of any
+danger or difficulty in time of adversity was our master King Louis
+XI. He was the humblest in his conversation and habit, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>the most
+painful and indefatigable to win over any man to his side that he
+thought capable of doing him either mischief or service: tho he was
+often refused, he would never give over a man that he wished to gain,
+but still prest and continued his insinuations, promising him largely,
+and presenting him with such sums and honors as he knew would gratify
+his ambition; and for such as he had discarded in time of peace and
+prosperity, he paid dear (when he had occasion for them) to recover
+them again; but when he had once reconciled them, he retained no
+enmity toward them for what has passed, but employed them freely for
+the future. He was naturally kind and indulgent to persons of mean
+estate, and hostile to all great men who had no need of him.</p>
+
+<p>Never prince was so conversable nor so inquisitive as he, for his
+desire was to know everybody he could; and indeed he knew all persons
+of any authority or worth in England, Spain, Portugal, and Italy, in
+the territories of the Dukes of Burgundy and Bretagne, and among his
+own subjects: and by those qualities he preserved the crown upon his
+head, which was in much danger by the enemies he had created to
+himself upon his accession to the throne.</p>
+
+<p>But above all, his great bounty and liberality did him the greatest
+service: and yet, as he behaved himself wisely in time of distress, so
+when he thought himself a little out of danger, tho it were but by a
+truce, he would disoblige the servants and officers of his court by
+mean and petty ways which were little to his advantage; and as for
+peace, he could hardly endure the thoughts of it. He spoke slightingly
+of most people, and rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> before their faces than behind their
+backs; unless he was afraid of them, and of that sort there were a
+great many, for he was naturally somewhat timorous. When he had done
+himself any prejudice by his talk, or was apprehensive he should do
+so, and wished to make amends, he would say to the person whom he had
+disobliged, "I am sensible my tongue has done me a good deal of
+mischief; but on the other hand, it has sometimes done me much good:
+however, it is but reason I should make some reparation for the
+injury." And he never used this kind of apologies to any person but he
+granted some favor to the person to whom he made it, and it was always
+of considerable amount.</p>
+
+<p>It is certainly a great blessing from God upon any prince to have
+experienced adversity as well as prosperity, good as well as evil, and
+especially if the good outweighs the evil, as it did in the King our
+master. I am of opinion that the troubles he was involved in in his
+youth, when he fled from his father and resided six years together
+with Philip, Duke of Burgundy, were of great service to him; for there
+he learned to be complaisant to such as he had occasion to use, which
+was no slight advantage of adversity. As soon as he found himself a
+powerful and crowned king, his mind was wholly bent upon revenge; but
+he quickly found the inconvenience of this, repented by degrees of his
+indiscretion, and made sufficient reparation for his folly and error
+by regaining those he had injured. Besides, I am very confident that
+if his education had not been different from the usual education of
+such nobles as I have seen in France, he could not so easily have
+worked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> himself out of his troubles: for they are brought up to
+nothing but to make themselves ridiculous, both in their clothes and
+discourse; they have no knowledge of letters; no wise man is suffered
+to come near them, to improve their understandings; they have
+governors who manage their business, but they do nothing themselves:
+nay, there are some nobles who tho they have an income of thirteen
+livres, will take pride to bid you "Go to my servants and let them
+answer you," thinking by such speeches to imitate the state and
+grandeur of a prince; and I have seen their servants take great
+advantage of them, giving them to understand they were fools; and if
+afterward they came to apply their minds to business and attempted to
+manage their own affairs, they began so late they could make nothing
+of it. And it is certain that all those who have performed any great
+or memorable action worthy to be recorded in history, began always in
+their youth; and this is to be attributed to the method of their
+education, or some particular blessing of God....</p>
+
+<p>Of all diversions he loved hunting and hawking in their seasons; but
+his chief delight was in dogs. In hunting, his eagerness and pain were
+equal to his pleasure, for his chase was the stag, which he always ran
+down. He rose very early in the morning, rode sometimes a great
+distance, and would not leave his sport, let the weather be never so
+bad; and when he came home at night he was often very weary, and
+generally in a violent passion with some of his courtiers or huntsmen;
+for hunting is a sport not always to be managed according to the
+master's direction; yet in the opinion of most people, he understood
+it as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> well as any prince of his time. He was continually at these
+sports, lodging in the country villages to which his recreations led
+him, till he was interrupted by business; for during the most part of
+the summer there was constantly war between him and Charles, Duke of
+Burgundy, and in the winter they made truces; so that he had but a
+little time during the whole year to spend in pleasure, and even then
+the fatigues he underwent were excessive. When his body was at rest
+his mind was at work, for he had affairs in several places at once,
+and would concern himself as much in those of his neighbors as in his
+own; putting officers of his own over all the great families, and
+endeavoring to divide their authority as much as possible. When he was
+at war he labored for a peace or a truce, and when he had obtained it
+he was impatient for war again. He troubled himself with many trifles
+in his government which he had better have left alone: but it was his
+temper, and he could not help it; besides, he had a prodigious memory,
+and he forgot nothing, but knew everybody, as well in other countries
+as in his own.</p>
+
+<p>And in truth he seemed better fitted to rule a world than to govern a
+single kingdom. I speak not of his minority, for then I was not with
+him; but when he was eleven years he was, by the advice of some of the
+nobility and others of his kingdom, embroiled in a war with his
+father, Charles VII, which lasted not long, and was called the
+Praguerie. When he was arrived at man's estate he was married, much
+against his inclination, to the King of Scotland's daughter; and he
+regretted her existence during the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> course of her life.
+Afterward, by reason of the broils and factions in his father's court,
+he retired into Dauphiny (which was his own), whither many persons of
+quality followed him, and indeed more than he could entertain. During
+his residence in Dauphiny he married the Duke of Savoy's daughter, and
+not long after he had great disputes with his father-in-law, and a
+terrible war was begun between them.</p>
+
+<p>His father, King Charles VII, seeing his son attended by so many good
+officers and raising men at his pleasure, resolved to go in person
+against him with a considerable body of forces, in order to disperse
+them. While he was upon his march he put out proclamations, requiring
+them all as his subjects, under great penalties, to repair to him; and
+many obeyed, to the great displeasure of the Dauphin, who finding his
+father incensed, tho he was strong enough to resist, resolved to
+retire and leave that country to him; and accordingly he removed with
+but a slender retinue into Burgundy to Duke Philip's court, who
+received him honorably, furnished him nobly, and maintained him and
+his principal servants by way of pensions; and to the rest he gave
+presents as he saw occasion during the whole time of their residence
+there. However, the Dauphin entertained so many at his own expense
+that his money often failed, to his great disgust and mortification;
+for he was forced to borrow, or his people would have forsaken him;
+which is certainly a great affliction to a prince who was utterly
+unaccustomed to those straits. So that during his residence at the
+court of Burgundy he had his anxieties, for he was constrained to
+cajole the duke and his ministers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> lest they should think he was too
+burdensome and had laid too long upon their hands; for he had been
+with them six years, and his father, King Charles, was constantly
+pressing and soliciting the Duke of Burgundy, by his ambassadors,
+either to deliver him up to him or to banish him out of his dominions.
+And this, you may believe, gave the Dauphin some uneasy thoughts and
+would not suffer him to be idle. In which season of his life, then,
+was it that he may be said to have enjoyed himself? I believe from his
+infancy and innocence to his death, his whole life was nothing but one
+continued scene of troubles and fatigues; and I am of opinion that if
+all the days of his life were computed in which his joys and pleasures
+outweighed his pain and trouble, they would be found so few that there
+would be twenty mournful ones to one pleasant.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> From the "Memoirs." Louis reigned from 1461 to 1483. It
+was he, more than any other king, who represt the power of the feudal
+princes and consolidated their territories under the French monarchy.
+</p><p>
+Comines has been called "the father of modern history." Hallam says
+his work "almost makes an epoch in historical literature"; while
+Sainte-Beuve has declared that from it "all political history takes
+its rise." Comines was translated into English by T. Banett in 1596.
+The best-known modern translation is the one in Bohn's Library, made
+by Andrew R. Scoble.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MARGUERITE_DANGOULEME" id="MARGUERITE_DANGOULEME"></a>MARGUERITE D'ANGOUL&Ecirc;ME</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1492, died in 1549; sister of Francis I;
+married in 1509 Due d'Alen&ccedil;on, and later Henri d'Albret,
+King of Navarre; assumed the direction of government after
+the death of the King in 1554; wrote poems and letters, the
+latter published in 1841-42; her "Heptameron" modeled on the
+"Decameron" of Boccaccio, published in 1558 after her death,
+its authorship perhaps collaborative.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_HUSBANDS_WHO_ARE_UNFAITHFUL" id="OF_HUSBANDS_WHO_ARE_UNFAITHFUL"></a>OF HUSBANDS WHO ARE UNFAITHFUL<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>A little company of five ladies and five noble gentlemen have been
+interrupted in their travels by heavy rains and great floods, and find
+themselves together in a hospitable abbey. They while away the time as
+best they can, and the second day Parlamente says to the old Lady
+Oisille, "Madame, I wonder that you who have so much experience do not
+think of some pastime to sweeten the gloom that our long delay here
+causes us." The other ladies echo her wishes, and all the gentlemen
+agree with them, and beg the Lady Oisille to be pleased to direct how
+they shall amuse themselves. She answers them:</p>
+
+<p>"My children, you ask of me something that I find very difficult,&mdash;to
+teach you a pastime that can deliver you from your sadness; for having
+sought some such remedy all my life I have never found but one&mdash;the
+reading of Holy Writ; in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>which is found the true and perfect joy of
+the mind, from which proceed the comfort and health of the body. And
+if you ask me what keeps me so joyous and so healthy in my old age, it
+is that as soon as I rise I take and read the Holy Scriptures, seeing
+and contemplating the will of God, who for our sakes sent His son on
+earth to announce this holy word and good news, by which He promises
+remission of sins, satisfaction for all duties by the gifts He makes
+us of His love, passion and merits. This consideration gives me so
+much joy that I take my Psalter and as humbly as I can I sing with my
+heart and pronounce with my tongue the beautiful psalms and canticles
+that the Holy Spirit wrote in the heart of David and of other authors.
+And this contentment that I have in them does me so much good that the
+ills that every day may happen to me seem to me to be blessings,
+seeing that I have in my heart, by faith, Him who has borne them for
+me. Likewise, before supper, I retire, to pasture my soul in reading;
+and then, in the evening, I call to mind what I have done in the past
+day, in order to ask pardon for my faults, and to thank Him for His
+kindnesses, and in His love, fear and peace I repose, assured against
+all ills. Wherefore, my children, this is the pastime in which I have
+long stayed my steps, after having searched all things, where I found
+no content for my spirit. It seems to me that if every morning you
+will give an hour to reading, and then, during mass, devoutly say your
+prayers, you will find in this desert the same beauty as in cities;
+for he who knows God, sees all beautiful things in Him, and without
+Him all is ugliness....<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I beg you, ladies," continues the narrator, "if God give you such
+husbands,<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> not to despair till you have long tried every means to
+reclaim them; for there are twenty-four hours in a day in which a man
+may change his way of thinking, and a woman should deem herself
+happier to have won her husband by patience and long effort than if
+fortune and her parents had given her a more perfect one." "Yes," said
+Oisille, "this is an example for all married women."&mdash;"Let her follow
+this example who will," said Parlamente: "but as for me, it would not
+be possible for me to have such long patience; for, however true it
+may be that in all estates patience is a fine virtue, it's my opinion
+that in marriage it brings about at last unfriendliness; because,
+suffering unkindness from a fellow being, one is forced to separate
+from him as far as possible, and from this separation arises a
+contempt for the fault of the disloyal one, and in this contempt
+little by little love diminishes; for it is what is valued that is
+loved."&mdash;"But there is danger," said Ennarsuite, "that the impatient
+wife may find a furious husband, who would give her pain in lieu of
+patience."&mdash;"But what could a husband do," said Parlamente, "save what
+has been recounted in this story?"&mdash;"What could he do?" said
+Ennarsuite, "he could beat his wife."...</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Parlamente, "that a good woman would not be so grieved
+in being beaten out of anger, as in being contemptuously treated by a
+man who does not care for her, and after having endured the suffering
+of the loss of his friendship, nothing the husband might do would
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>cause her much concern. And besides, the story says that the trouble
+she took to draw him back to her was because of her love for her
+children, and I believe it."&mdash;"And do you think it was so very patient
+of her," said Nomerfide, "to set fire to the bed in which her husband
+was sleeping?"&mdash;"Yes," said Longarine, "for when she saw the smoke she
+awoke him; and that was just the thing where she was most in fault,
+for of such husbands as those the ashes are good to make lye for the
+washtub."&mdash;"You are cruel, Longarine," said Oisille, "and you did not
+live in such fashion with your husband."&mdash;"No," said Longarine, "for,
+God be thanked, he never gave me such occasion, but reason to regret
+him all my life, instead of to complain of him."&mdash;"And if he had
+treated you in this way," said Nomerfide, "what would you have
+done?"&mdash;"I loved him so much," said Longarine, "that I think I should
+have killed him and then killed myself; for to die after such
+vengeance would be pleasanter to me than to live faithfully with a
+faithless husband."</p>
+
+<p>"As far as I see," said Hircan, "you love your husbands only for
+yourselves. If they are good after your own heart, you love them well;
+if they commit toward you the least fault in the world, they have lost
+their week's work by a Saturday. The long and the short is that you
+want to be mistresses; for my part I am of your mind, provided all the
+husbands also agree to it."&mdash;"It is reasonable," said Parlamente,
+"that the man rule us as our head, but not that he desert us or
+ill-treat us."&mdash;"God," said Oisille, "has set in such due order the
+man and the woman that if the marriage estate is not abused, I hold it
+to be one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> the most beautiful and stable conditions in the World;
+and I am sure that all those here present, whatever air they assume,
+think no less highly of it. And forasmuch as men say they are wiser
+than women, they should be more sharply punished when the fault is on
+their side. But we have talked enough on this subject."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> From the "Heptameron," of which a translation by R.
+Codrington appeared in London in 1654.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> That is, unfaithful husbands.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRANCOIS_RABELAIS" id="FRANCOIS_RABELAIS"></a>FRAN&Ccedil;OIS RABELAIS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Touraine in 1495, died in Paris in 1553; educated at
+an abbey and spent fifteen or more years as a monk; Studied
+medicine in 1530 and practised in Lyons; traveled in Italy;
+in charge of a parish at Meudon in 1550-52; composed
+almanacs and edited old medical books; published
+"Pantagruel" in 1533 and "Gargantua" in 1535, the success of
+which led to several sequels, the last appearing in the year
+of his death.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>GARGANTUA IN HIS CHILDHOOD<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Gargantua, from three years to five, was nourished and instructed in
+all proper discipline by the commandment of his father, and spent that
+time like the other little children of the country,&mdash;that is, in
+drinking, eating, and sleeping; in eating, sleeping, and drinking; and
+in sleeping, drinking, and eating. Still he wallowed in the mire,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>blackened his face, trod down his shoes at heel; at the flies he did
+oftentimes yawn, and willingly run after the butterflies, the empire
+whereof belonged to his father. He sharpened his teeth with a slipper,
+washed his hands with his broth, combed his head with a bowl, sat down
+between two stools and came to the ground, covered himself with a wet
+sack, drank while eating his soup, ate his cake without bread, would
+bite in laughing, laugh in biting, hide himself in the water for fear
+of rain, go cross, fall into dumps, look demure, skin the fox, say the
+ape's <i>paternoster</i>, return to his sheep, turn the sows into the hay,
+beat the dog before the lion, put the cart before the horse, scratch
+where he did not itch, shoe the grasshopper, tickle himself to make
+himself laugh, know flies in milk, scrape paper, blur parchment, then
+run away, pull at the kid's leather, reckon without his host, beat the
+bushes without catching the birds, and thought that bladders were
+lanterns. He always looked a gift-horse in the mouth, hoped to catch
+larks if ever the heavens should fall, and made a virtue of necessity.
+Every morning his father's puppies ate out of the dish with him, and
+he with them. He would bite their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> ears, and they would scratch his
+nose. The good man Grangousier said to Gargantua's governesses:</p>
+
+<p>"Philip, King of Macedon, knew the wit of his son Alexander, by his
+skilful managing of a horse;<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> for the said horse was so fierce and
+unruly that none durst adventure to ride him, because he gave a fall
+to all his riders, breaking the neck of this man, the leg of that, the
+brain of one, and the jawbone of another. This by Alexander being
+considered, one day in the hippodrome (which was a place appointed for
+the walking and running of horses), he perceived that the fury of the
+horse proceeded merely from the fear he had of his own shadow;
+whereupon, getting on his back he ran him against the sun, so that the
+shadow fell behind, and by that means tamed the horse and brought him
+to his hand. Whereby his father recognized the divine judgment that
+was in him, and caused him most carefully to be instructed by
+Aristotle, who at that time was highly renowned above all the
+philosophers of Greece. After the same manner I tell you, that as
+regards my son Gargantua, I know that his understanding doth
+participate of some divinity,&mdash;so keen, subtle, profound, and clear do
+I find him; and if he be well taught, he will attain to a sovereign
+degree of wisdom. Therefore will I commit him to some learned man, to
+have him indoctrinated according to his capacity, and will spare no
+cost."</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon they appointed him a great sophister-doctor, called Ma&icirc;tre
+Tubal Holophernes, who taught him his A B C so well that he could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>say
+it by heart backward; and about this he was five years and three
+months. Then read he to him Donat, Facet, Theodolet, and Alanus <i>in
+parabolis</i>. About this he was thirteen years, six months, and two
+weeks. But you must remark that in the mean time he did learn to write
+in Gothic characters, and that he wrote all his books,&mdash;for the art of
+printing was not then in use. After that he read unto him the book "De
+Modis Significandi," with the commentaries of Hurtebise, of Fasquin,
+of Tropditeux, of Gaulehaut, of John le Veau, of Billonio, of
+Brelingandus, and a rabble of others; and herein he spent more than
+eighteen years and eleven months, and was so well versed in it that at
+the examination he would recite it by heart backward, and did
+sometimes prove on his fingers to his mother <i>quod de modis
+significandi non erat scientia</i>. Then did he read to him the
+"Compost," on which he spent sixteen years and two months, and that
+justly at the time his said preceptor died, which was in the year one
+thousand four hundred and twenty.</p>
+
+<p>Afterward he got another old fellow with a cough to teach him, named
+Ma&icirc;tre Jobelin Brid&eacute;, who read unto him Hugutio, Hebrard's "Gr&eacute;cisme,"
+the "Doctrinal," the "Parts," the "Quid Est," the "Supplementum";
+Marmoquet "De Moribus in Mensa Servandis"; Seneca "De Quatour
+Virtutibus Cardinalibus"; Passavantus "Cum Commento" and "Dormi
+Secur&eacute;," for the holidays; and some other of such-like stuff, by
+reading whereof he became as wise as any we have ever baked in an
+oven.</p>
+
+<p>At the last his father perceived that indeed he studied hard, and that
+altho he spent all his time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> in it, he did nevertheless profit
+nothing, but which is worse, grew thereby foolish, simple, doted, and
+blockish: whereof making a heavy regret to Don Philip des Marays,
+Viceroy of Papeligose, he found that it were better for him to learn
+nothing at all than to be taught such-like books under such
+schoolmasters; because their knowledge was nothing but brutishness,
+and their wisdom but toys, bastardizing good and noble spirits and
+corrupting the flower of youth. "That it is so, take," said he, "any
+young boy of the present time, who hath only studied two years: if he
+have not a better judgment, a better discourse, and that exprest in
+better terms, than your son, with a completer carriage and civility to
+all manner of persons, account me forever a chawbacon of La Br&egrave;ne."</p>
+
+<p>This pleased Grangousier very well, and he commanded that it should be
+done. At night at supper, the said Des Marays brought in a young page
+of his from Ville-gouges, called Eudemon, so well combed, so well
+drest, so well brushed, so sweet in his behavior, that he resembled a
+little angel more than a human creature. Then he said to Grangousier,
+"Do you see this child? He is not as yet full twelve years old. Let us
+try, if it pleaseth you, what difference there is betwixt the
+knowledge of the doting dreamers of old time and the young lads that
+are now."</p>
+
+<p>The trial pleased Grangousier, and he commanded the page to begin.
+Then Eudemon, asking leave of the viceroy, his master, so to do, with
+his cap in his hand, a clear and open countenance, ruddy lips, his
+eyes steady, and his looks fixt upon Gargantua, with a youthful
+modesty, stood up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> straight on his feet and began to commend and
+magnify him, first, for his virtue and good manners; secondly, for his
+knowledge; thirdly, for his nobility; fourthly, for his bodily beauty;
+and in the fifth place, sweetly exhorted him to reverence his father
+with all observancy, who was so careful to have him well brought up.
+In the end he prayed him that he would vouchsafe to admit of him
+amongst the least of his servants; for other favor at that time
+desired he none of heaven but that he might do him some grateful and
+acceptable service.</p>
+
+<p>All this was by him delivered with gestures so proper, pronunciation
+so distinct, a voice so eloquent, language so well turned, and in such
+good Latin, that he seemed rather a Gracchus, a Cicero, an &AElig;milius of
+the time past than a youth of his age. But all the countenance that
+Gargantua kept was that he fell to crying like a cow, and cast down
+his face, hiding it with his cap; nor could they possibly draw one
+word from him. Whereat his father was so grievously vexed that he
+would have killed Ma&icirc;tre Jobelin; but the said Des Marays withheld him
+from it by fair persuasions, so that at length he pacified his wrath.
+The Grangousier commanded he should be paid his wages, that they
+should make him drink theologically, after which he was to go to all
+the devils. "At least," said he, "to-day shall it not cost his host
+much, if by chance he should die as drunk as an Englishman."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> From Book I, Chapter XI, of "The Inestimable Life of the
+Great Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The basis of all English
+translations of Rabelais is the work begun by Sir Thomas Urquhart and
+completed by Peter A. Motteux. Urquhart was a Scotchman, who was born
+in 1611 and died in 1660. Motteux was a Frenchman, who settled in
+England after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and was the
+author of several plays. This translation has been called "one of the
+most perfect that ever man accomplished." Other and later versions
+have usually been based on Urquhart and Motteux, but have been
+expurgated, as is the case with the passages given here. An earlier
+version of "Pantagruel," published in London in 1620, was ascribed to
+"Democritus Pseudomantio."
+</p><p>
+Rabelais, by common, consent, has a place among the greatest prose
+writers of the world. In his knowledge of human nature and his
+literary excellence, he is often ranked as inferior only to
+Shakespeare. As an exponent of the sentiments and atmosphere of his
+own time, we find in him what is found only in a few of the world's
+greatest writers. That he has not been more widely read in modern
+times, is attributed chiefly to the extraordinary coarseness of
+language which he constantly introduces into his pages. This
+coarseness is, in fact, so pervasive that expurgation is made
+extremely difficult to any one who would preserve some fair remnant of
+the original.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The famous horse Bucephalus is here referred to.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>GARGANTUA'S EDUCATION<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Ma&icirc;tre Jobelin being gone out of the house, Grangousier consulted with
+the viceroy what tutor they should choose for Gargantua; and it was
+betwixt them resolved that Ponocrates, the tutor of Eudemon, should
+have the charge, and that they should all go together to Paris to know
+what was the study of the young men of France at that time....</p>
+
+<p>Ponocrates appointed that for the beginning he should do as he had
+been accustomed; to the end he might understand by what means, for so
+long a time, his old masters had made him so foolish, simple, and
+ignorant. He disposed, therefore, of his time in such fashion that
+ordinarily he did awake between eight and nine o'clock, whether it was
+day or not; for so had his ancient governors ordained, alleging that
+which David saith, <i>Vanum est vobis ante lucem surgere</i>. Then did he
+tumble and wallow in the bed some time, the better to stir up his
+vital spirits, and appareled himself according to the season; but
+willingly he would wear a great long gown of thick frieze, lined with
+fox fur. Afterward he combed his head with the German comb, which is
+the four fingers and the thumb; for his preceptors said that to comb
+himself otherwise, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>to wash and make himself neat was to lose time in
+this world. Then to suppress the dew and bad air, he breakfasted on
+fair fried tripe, fair grilled meats, fair hams, fair hashed capon,
+and store of sipped brewis.</p>
+
+<p>Ponocrates showed him that he ought not to eat so soon after rising
+out of his bed, unless he had performed some exercise beforehand.
+Gargantua answered: "What! have not I sufficiently well exercised
+myself? I rolled myself six or seven turns in my bed before I rose. Is
+not that enough? Pope Alexander did so, by the advice of a Jew, his
+physician; and lived till his dying day in despite of the envious. My
+first masters have used me to it, saying that breakfast makes a good
+memory; wherefore they drank first. I am very well after it, and dine
+but the better. And Ma&icirc;tre Tubal, who was the first licentiate at
+Paris, told me that it is not everything to run a pace, but to set
+forth well betimes: so doth not the total welfare of our humanity
+depend upon perpetual drinking <i>atas</i>, <i>atas</i>, like ducks, but on
+drinking well in the morning; whence the verse&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'To rise betimes is no good hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drink betimes is better sure.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>After he had thoroughly broken his fast, he went to church; and they
+carried for him, in a great basket, a huge breviary. There he heard
+six-and-twenty or thirty masses. This while, to the same place came
+his sayer of hours, lapped up about the chin like a tufted whoop, and
+his breath perfumed with good store of sirup. With him he mumbled all
+his kyriels, which he so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> curiously picked that there fell not so much
+as one grain to the ground. As he went from the church, they brought
+him, upon a dray drawn by oxen, a heap of paternosters of Sanct
+Claude, every one of them being of the bigness of a hat-block; and
+thus walking through the cloisters, galleries, or garden, he said more
+in turning them over than sixteen hermits would have done. Then did he
+study for some paltry half-hour with his eyes fixt upon his book; but
+as the comic saith, his mind was in the kitchen. Then he sat down at
+table; and because he was naturally phlegmatic, he began his meal with
+some dozens of hams, dried meats' tongues, mullet's roe, chitterlings,
+and such other forerunners of wine.</p>
+
+<p>In the meanwhile, four of his folks did cast into his mouth, one after
+another continually, mustard by whole shovelfuls. Immediately after
+that he drank a horrific draft of white wine for the ease of his
+kidneys. When that was done, he ate according to the season meat
+agreeable to his appetite, and then left off eating when he was like
+to crack for fulness. As for his drinking, he had neither end nor
+rule. For he was wont to say, that the limits and bounds of drinking
+were when the cork of the shoes of him that drinketh swelleth up half
+a foot high.</p>
+
+<p>Then heavily mumbling a scurvy grace, he washed his hands in fresh
+wine, picked his teeth with the foot of a pig, and talked jovially
+with his attendants. Then the carpet being spread, they brought great
+store of cards, dice, and chessboards.</p>
+
+<p>After having well played, reveled, passed and spent his time, it was
+proper to drink a little,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> and that was eleven goblets the man; and
+immediately after making good cheer again, he would stretch himself
+upon a fair bench, or a good large bed, and there sleep two or three
+hours together without thinking or speaking any hurt. After he was
+awakened he would shake his ears a little. In the mean time they
+brought him fresh wine. Then he drank better than ever. Ponocrates
+showed him that it was an ill diet to drink so after sleeping. "It
+is," answered Gargantua, "the very life of the Fathers; for naturally
+I sleep salt, and my sleep hath been to me instead of so much ham."</p>
+
+<p>Then began he to study a little, and the paternosters first, which the
+better and more formally to dispatch, he got up on an old mule which
+had served nine kings; and so mumbling with his mouth, doddling his
+head, would go see a coney caught in a net. At his return he went into
+the kitchen to know what roast meat was on the spit; and supped very
+well, upon my conscience, and commonly did invite some of his
+neighbors that were good drinkers; with whom carousing, they told
+stories of all sorts, from the old to the new. After supper were
+brought in upon the place the fair wooden gospels&mdash;that is to say,
+many pairs of tables and cards&mdash;with little small banquets, intermined
+with collations and reer-suppers. Then did he sleep without unbridling
+until eight o'clock in the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>When Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vicious manner of living, he resolved
+to bring him up in another kind; but for a while he bore with him,
+considering that nature does not endure sudden changes without great
+violence. Therefore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> to begin his work the better, he requested a
+learned physician of that time, called Ma&icirc;tre Theodorus, seriously to
+perpend, if it were possible, how to bring Gargantua unto a better
+course. The said physician purged him canonically with Anticyran
+hellebore, by which medicine he cleansed all the alteration and
+perverse habitude of his brain. By this means also Ponocrates made him
+forget all that he had learned under his ancient preceptors. To do
+this better, they brought him into the company of learned men who were
+there, in emulation of whom a great desire and affection came to him
+to study otherwise, and to improve his parts. Afterward he put himself
+into such a train of study that he lost not any hour in the day, but
+employed all his time in learning and honest knowledge. Gargantua
+awaked then about four o'clock in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>While they were rubbing him, there was read unto him some chapter of
+the Holy Scripture aloud and clearly, with a pronunciation fit for the
+matter; and hereunto was appointed a young page born in Basch&eacute;, named
+Anagnostes. According to the purpose and argument of that lesson, he
+oftentimes gave himself to revere, adore, pray, and send up his
+supplications to what good God whose word did show His majesty and
+marvelous judgments. Then his master repeated what had been read,
+expounding unto him the most obscure and difficult points. They then
+considered the face of the sky, if it was such as they had observed it
+the night before, and into what signs the sun was entering, as also
+the moon for that day. This done, he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> appareled, combed, curled,
+trimmed, and perfumed, during which time they repeated to him the
+lessons of the day before. He himself said them by heart, and upon
+them grounded practical cases concerning the estate of man; which he
+would prosecute sometimes two or three hours, but ordinarily they
+ceased as soon as he was fully clothed. Then for three good hours
+there was reading. This done, they went forth, still conferring of the
+substance of the reading, and disported themselves at ball, tennis, or
+the <i>pile trigone</i>; gallantly exercising their bodies, as before they
+had done their minds. All their play was but in liberty, for they left
+off when they pleased; and that was commonly when they did sweat, or
+were otherwise weary. Then were they very well dried and rubbed,
+shifted their shirts, and walking soberly, went to see if dinner was
+ready. While they stayed for that, they did clearly and eloquently
+recite some sentences that they had retained of the lecture.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time Master Appetite came, and then very orderly sat they
+down at table. At the beginning of the meal there was read some
+pleasant history of ancient prowess, until he had taken his wine. Then
+if they thought good, they continued reading, or began to discourse
+merrily together; speaking first of the virtue, propriety, efficacy,
+and nature of all that was served in at that table; of bread, of wine,
+of water, of salt, of flesh, fish, fruits, herbs, roots, and of their
+dressing. By means whereof, he learned in a little time all the
+passages that on these subject are to be found in Pliny, Athen&aelig;us,
+Dioscorides, Julius Pollux, Gallen, Porphyrius,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> Oppian, Polybius,
+Heliodorus, Aristotle, &AElig;lian, and others. While they talked of these
+things, many times, to be more the certain, they caused the very books
+to be brought to the table; and so well and perfectly did he in his
+memory retain the things above said, that in that time there was not a
+physician that knew half so much as he did. Afterward they conferred
+of the lessons read in the morning; and ending their repast with some
+conserve of quince, he washed his hands and eyes with fair fresh
+water, and gave thanks unto God in some fine canticle, made in praise
+of the divine bounty and munificence.</p>
+
+<p>This done, they brought in cards, not to play, but to learn a thousand
+pretty tricks and new inventions, which were all grounded upon
+arithmetic. By this means he fell in love with that numerical science;
+and every day after dinner and supper he passed his time in it as
+pleasantly as he was wont to do at cards and dice: so that at last he
+understood so well both the theory and practise thereof, that Tonstal
+the Englishman, who had written very largely of that purpose, confest
+that verily in comparison of him he understood nothing but double
+Dutch; and not only in that, but in the other mathematical sciences,
+as geometry, astronomy, music. For while waiting for the digestion of
+his food, they made a thousand joyous instruments and geometrical
+figures, and at the same time practised the astronomical canons.</p>
+
+<p>After this they recreated themselves with singing musically, in four
+or five parts, or upon a set theme, as it best pleased them. In matter
+of musical instruments, he learned to play the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> lute, the spinet, the
+harp, the German flute, the flute with nine holes, the violin, and the
+sackbut. This hour thus spent, he betook himself to his principal
+study for three hours together, or more, as well to repeat his
+matutinal lectures as to proceed in the book wherein he was; as also
+to write handsomely, to draw and form the antique and Roman letters.
+This being done, they went out of their house, and with them a young
+gentleman of Touraine, named Gymnast, who taught him the art of
+riding.</p>
+
+<p>Changing then his clothes, he mounted on any kind of a horse, which he
+made to bound in the air, to jump the ditch, to leap the palisade, and
+to turn short in a ring both to the right and left hand. There he
+broke not his lance; for it is the greatest foolishness in the world
+to say, I have broken ten lances at tilts or in fight. A carpenter can
+do even as much. But it is a glorious and praiseworthy action with one
+lance to break and overthrow ten enemies. Therefore with a sharp,
+strong, and stiff lance would he usually force a door, pierce a
+harness, uproot a tree, carry away the ring, lift up a saddle, with
+the mail-coat and gantlet. All this he did in complete arms from head
+to foot. He was singularly skilful in leaping nimbly from one horse to
+another without putting foot to ground. He could likewise from either
+side, with a lance in his hand, leap on horseback without stirrups,
+and rule the horse at his pleasure without a bridle; for such things
+are useful in military engagements. Another day he exercised the
+battle-ax, which he so dextrously wielded that he was passed knight of
+arms in the field.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then tossed he the pike, played with the two-handed sword, with the
+back sword, with the Spanish tuck, the dagger, poniard, armed,
+unarmed, with a buckler, with a cloak, with a target. Then would he
+hunt the hart, the roebuck, the bear, the fallow deer, the wild boar,
+the hare, the pheasant, the partridge, and the bustard. He played at
+the great ball, and made it bound in the air, both with fist and foot.
+He wrestled, ran, jumped, not at three steps and a leap, nor a
+hopping, nor yet at the German jump; "for," said Gymnast, "these jumps
+are for the wars altogether unprofitable, and of no use": but at one
+leap he would skip over a ditch, spring over a hedge, mount six paces
+upon a wall, climb after this fashion up against a window, the height
+of a lance.</p>
+
+<p>He did swim in deep waters on his face, on his back, sidewise, with
+all his body, with his feet only, with one hand in the air, wherein he
+held a book, crossing thus the breadth of the river Seine without
+wetting, and dragging along his cloak with his teeth, as did Julius
+C&aelig;sar; then with the help of one hand he entered forcibly into a boat,
+from whence he cast himself again headlong into the water, sounded the
+depths, hollowed the rocks, and plunged into the pits and gulfs. Then
+turned he the boat about, governed it, led it swiftly or slowly with
+the stream and against the stream, stopt it in its course, guided it
+with one hand, and with the other laid hard about him with a huge
+great oar, hoisted the sail, hied up along the mast by the shrouds,
+ran upon the bulwarks, set the compass, tackled the bowlines, and
+steered the helm. Coming out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> of the water, he ran furiously up
+against a hill, and with the same alacrity and swiftness ran down
+again. He climbed up trees like a cat, leaped from the one to the
+other like a squirrel. He did pull down the great boughs and branches,
+like another Milo: then with two sharp well-steeled daggers, and two
+tried bodkins, would he run up by the wall to the very top of a house
+like a rat; then suddenly come down from the top to the bottom, with
+such an even disposal of members that by the fall he would catch no
+harm.</p>
+
+<p>He did cast the dart, throw the bar, put the stone, practise the
+javelin, the boar-spear or partizan, and the halbert. He broke the
+strongest bows in drawing, bended against his breast the greatest
+cross-bows of steel, took his aim by the eye with the hand-gun,
+traversed the cannon; shot at the butts, at the pape-gay, before him,
+sidewise, and behind him, like the Parthians. They tied a cable-rope
+to the top of a high tower, by one end whereof hanging near the ground
+he wrought himself with his hands to the very top; then came down
+again so sturdily and firmly that you could not on a plain meadow have
+run with more assurance. They set up a great pole fixt upon two trees.
+There would he hang by his hands, and with them alone, his feet
+touching at nothing, would go back and fore along the aforesaid rope
+with so great swiftness, that hardly could one overtake him with
+running.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>OF THE FOUNDING OF AN IDEAL ABBEY<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>There was left only the monk to provide for; whom Gargantua would have
+made Abbot of Seuill&eacute;, but he refused it. He would have given him the
+Abbey of Bourgueil, or of Sanct Florent, which was better, or both if
+it pleased him; but the monk gave him a very peremptory answer, that
+he would never take upon him the charge nor government of monks. "For
+how shall I be able," said he, "to rule over others, that have not
+full power and command of myself? If you think I have done you, or may
+hereafter do you any acceptable service, give me leave to found an
+abbey after my own mind and fancy." The motion pleased Gargantua very
+well; who thereupon offered him all the country of Thelema by the
+river Loire, till within two leagues of the great forest of
+Port-Huaut. The monk then requested Gargantua to institute his
+religious order contrary to all others.</p>
+
+<p>"First, then," said Gargantua, "you must not build a wall about your
+convent, for all other abbeys are strongly walled and mured about."</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, seeing there are certain convents in the world whereof the
+custom is, if any women come in&mdash;I mean honorable and honest
+women&mdash;they immediately sweep the ground which they have trod upon;
+therefore was it ordained that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>if any man or woman, entered into
+religious orders, should by chance come within this new abbey, all the
+rooms should be thoroughly washed and cleansed through which they had
+passed.</p>
+
+<p>And because in other monasteries all is compassed, limited, and
+regulated by hours, it was decreed that in this new structure there
+should, be neither clock nor dial, but that according to the
+opportunities, and incident occasions, all their works should be
+disposed of; "for," said Gargantua, "the greatest loss of time that I
+know is to count the hours. What good comes of it? Nor can there be
+any greater folly in the world than for one to guide and direct his
+courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment and
+discretion."</p>
+
+<p><i>Item</i>, Because at that time they put no women into nunneries but such
+as were either one-eyed, lame, humpbacked, ill-favored, misshapen,
+foolish, senseless, spoiled, or corrupt; nor encloistered any men but
+those that were either sickly, ill-bred, clownish, and the trouble of
+the house:</p>
+
+<p>("Apropos," said the monk&mdash;"a woman that is neither fair nor good, to
+what use serves she?" "To make a nun of," said Gargantua. "Yes," said
+the monk, "and to make shirts.")</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, Gargantua said, was it ordained, that into this religious
+order should be admitted no women that were not fair, well-featured,
+and of a sweet disposition; nor men that were not comely, personable,
+and also of a sweet disposition.</p>
+
+<p><i>Item</i>, Because in the convents of women men come not but underhand,
+privily, and by stealth? it was therefore enacted that in this house
+there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> shall be no women in case there be not men, nor men in case
+there be not women.</p>
+
+<p><i>Item</i>, Because both men and women that are received into religious
+orders after the year of their novitiates were constrained and forced
+perpetually to stay there all the days of their life: it was ordered
+that all of whatever kind, men or women, admitted within this abbey,
+should have full leave to depart with peace and contentment whensoever
+it should seem good to them so to do.</p>
+
+<p><i>Item</i>, For that the religious men and women did ordinarily make three
+vows&mdash;to wit, those of chastity, poverty, and obedience: it was
+therefore constituted and appointed that in this convent they might be
+honorably married, that they might be rich, and live at liberty. In
+regard to the legitimate age, the women were to be admitted from ten
+till fifteen, and the men from twelve till eighteen.</p>
+
+<p>For the fabric and furniture of the abbey, Gargantua caused to be
+delivered out in ready money twenty-seven hundred thousand eight
+hundred and one-and-thirty of those long-wooled rams; and for every
+year until the whole work was completed he allotted threescore nine
+thousand gold crowns, and as many of the seven stars, to be charged
+all upon the receipt of the river Dive. For the foundation and
+maintenance thereof he settled in perpetuity three-and-twenty hundred
+threescore and nine thousand five hundred and fourteen rose nobles,
+taxes exempted from all in landed rents, and payable every year at the
+gate of the abbey; and for this gave them fair letters patent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The building was hexagonal, and in such a fashion that in every one of
+the six corners there was built a great round tower, sixty paces in
+diameter, and were all of a like form and bigness. Upon the north side
+ran the river Loire, on the bank whereof was situated the tower called
+Arctic. Going toward the east there was another called Cal&aelig;r, the next
+following Anatole, the next Mesembrine, the next Hesperia, and the
+last Criere. Between each two towers was the space of three hundred
+and twelve paces. The whole edifice was built in six stories,
+reckoning the cellars underground for one. The second was vaulted
+after the fashion of a basket-handle; the rest were coated with
+Flanders plaster, in the form of a lamp foot. It was roofed with fine
+slates of lead, carrying figures of baskets and animals; the ridge
+gilt, together with the gutters, which issued without the wall between
+the windows, painted diagonally in gold and blue down to the ground,
+where they ended in great canals, which carried away the water below
+the house into the river.</p>
+
+<p>This same building was a hundred times more sumptuous and magnificent
+than ever was Bonivet; for there were in it nine thousand three
+hundred and two-and-thirty chambers, every one whereof had a
+withdrawing-room, a closet, a wardrobe, a chapel, and a passage into a
+great hall. Between every tower, in the midst of the said body of
+building, there was a winding stair, whereof the steps were part of
+porphyry, which is a dark-red marble spotted with white, part of
+Numidian stone, and part of serpentine marble; each of those steps
+being two-and-twenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> feet in length and three fingers thick, and the
+just number of twelve betwixt every landing-place. On every landing
+were two fair antique arcades where the light came in; and by those
+they went into a cabinet, made even with, and of the breadth of the
+said winding, and they mounted above the roof and ended in a pavilion.
+By this winding they entered on every side into a great hall, and from
+the halls into the chambers. From the Arctic tower unto the Criere
+were fair great libraries in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, French, Italian,
+and Spanish, respectively distributed on different stories, according
+to their languages. In the midst there was a wonderful winding stair,
+the entry whereof was without the house, in an arch six fathoms broad.
+It was made in such symmetry and largeness that six men-at-arms, lance
+on thigh, might ride abreast all up to the very top of all the palace.
+From the tower Anatole to the Mesembrine were fair great galleries,
+all painted with the ancient prowess, histories, and descriptions of
+the world. In the midst thereof there was likewise such another ascent
+and gate as we said there was on the river-side.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the lower court there was a stately fountain of fair
+alabaster. Upon the top thereof stood the three Graces, with horns of
+abundance, and did jet out the water at their breasts, mouth, ears,
+and eyes. The inside of the buildings in this lower court stood upon
+great pillars of Cassydonian stone, and porphyry in fair ancient
+arches. Within these were spacious galleries, long and large, adorned
+with curious pictures&mdash;the horns of bucks and unicorns;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> of the
+rhinoceros and the hippopotamus; the teeth and tusks of elephants, and
+other things well worth the beholding. The lodging of the ladies took
+up all from the tower Arctic unto the gate Mesembrine. The men possest
+the rest. Before the said lodging of the ladies, that they might have
+their recreation, between the two first towers, on the outside, were
+placed the tilt-yard, the hippodrome, the theater, the swimming-bath,
+with most admirable baths in three stages, well furnished with all
+necessary accommodation, and store of myrtle-water. By the river-side
+was the fair garden of pleasure, and in the midst of that a fair
+labyrinth. Between the two other towers were the tennis and fives
+courts. Toward the tower Criere stood the orchard full of all
+fruit-trees, set and ranged in a quincunx. At the end of that was the
+great park, abounding with all sort of game. Betwixt the third couple
+of towers were the butts for arquebus, crossbow, and arbalist. The
+stables were beyond the offices, and before them stood the falconry,
+managed by falconers very expert in the art; and it was yearly
+supplied by the Candians, Venetians, Sarmatians, with all sorts of
+excellent birds, eagles, gerfalcons, goshawks, falcons, sparrow-hawks,
+merlins, and other kinds of them, so gentle and perfectly well trained
+that, flying from the castle for their own disport, they would not
+fail to catch whatever they encountered. The venery was a little
+further off, drawing toward the park.</p>
+
+<p>All the halls, chambers, and cabinets were hung with tapestry of
+divers sorts, according to the seasons of the year. All the pavements
+were covered with green cloth. The beds were embroidered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> In every
+back chamber there was a looking-glass of pure crystal, set in a frame
+of fine gold garnished with pearls, and of such greatness that it
+would represent to the full the whole person. At the going out of the
+halls belonging to the ladies' lodgings were the perfumers and
+hair-dressers, through whose hands the gallants passed when they were
+to visit the ladies. These did every morning furnish the ladies'
+chambers with rose-water, musk, and angelica; and to each of them gave
+a little smelling-bottle breathing the choicest aromatical scents.</p>
+
+<p>The ladies on the foundation of this order were appareled after their
+own pleasure and liking. But since, of their own free will, they were
+reformed in manner as followeth:</p>
+
+<p>They wore stockings of scarlet which reached just three inches above
+the knee, having the border beautified with embroideries and trimming.
+Their garters were of the color of their bracelets, and circled the
+knee both over and under. Their shoes and slippers were either of red,
+violet, or crimson velvet, cut <i>&agrave; barbe d'&eacute;cr&eacute;visse</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Next to their smock they put on a fair corset of pure silk camblet;
+above that went the petticoat of white, red tawny, or gray taffeta.
+Above this was the <i>cotte</i> in cloth of silver, with needlework either
+(according to the temperature and disposition of the weather) of
+satin, damask, velvet, orange, tawny, green, ash-colored, blue,
+yellow, crimson, cloth of gold, cloth of silver, or some other choice
+stuff, according to the day.</p>
+
+<p>Their gowns, correspondent to the season, were either of cloth of gold
+with silver edging, of red satin covered with gold purl, of taffeta,
+white,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> blue, black, or tawny, of silk serge, silk camblet, velvet,
+cloth of silver, silver tissue, cloth of gold, or figured satin with
+golden threads.</p>
+
+<p>In the summer, some days, instead of gowns, they wore fair mantles of
+the above-named stuff, or capes of violet velvet with edging of gold,
+or with knotted cordwork of gold embroidery, garnished with little
+Indian pearls. They always carried a fair plume of feathers, of the
+color of their muff, bravely adorned with spangles of gold. In the
+winter-time they had their taffeta gowns of all colors, as above
+named, and those lined with the rich furrings of wolves, weasels,
+Calabrian martlet, sables, and other costly furs. Their beads, rings,
+bracelets, and collars were of precious stones, such as carbuncles,
+rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emerald, turquoises, garnets, agates,
+beryls, and pearls.</p>
+
+<p>Their head-dressing varied with the season of the year. In winter it
+was of the French fashion; in the spring of the Spanish; in summer of
+the fashion of Tuscany, except only upon the holidays and Sundays, at
+which times they were accoutered in the French mode, because they
+accounted it more honorable, better befitting the modesty of a matron.</p>
+
+<p>The men were appareled after their fashion. Their stockings were of
+worsted or of serge, of white, black, or scarlet. Their breeches were
+of velvet, of the same color with their stockings, or very near,
+embroidered and cut according to their fancy. Their doublet was of
+cloth of gold, cloth of silver, velvet, satin, damask, or taffeta, of
+the same colors, cut embroidered, and trimmed up in the same manner.
+The points were of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> silk of the same colors, the tags were of gold
+enameled. Their coats and jerkins were of cloth of gold, cloth of
+silver, gold tissue, or velvet embroidered, as they thought fit. Their
+gowns were every whit as costly as those of the ladies. Their girdles
+were of silk, of the color of their doublets. Every one had a gallant
+sword by his side, the hilt and handle whereof were gilt, and the
+scabbard of velvet, of the color of his breeches, the end in gold, and
+goldsmith's work. The dagger of the same. Their caps were of black
+velvet, adorned with jewels and buttons of gold. Upon that they wore a
+white plume, most prettily and minion-like parted by so many rows of
+gold spangles, at the end whereof hung dangling fair rubies, emeralds,
+etc.</p>
+
+<p>But so great was the sympathy between the gallants and the ladies,
+that every day they were appareled in the same livery. And that they
+might not miss, there were certain gentlemen appointed to tell the
+youths every morning what colors the ladies would on that day wear;
+for all was done according to the pleasure of the ladies. In these so
+handsome clothes, and habiliments so rich, think not that either one
+or other of either sex did waste any time at all; for the masters of
+the wardrobes had all their raiments and apparel so ready for every
+morning, and the chamber-ladies were so well skilled, that in a trice
+they would be drest, and completely in their clothes from head to
+foot. And to have these accouterments with the more conveniency, there
+was about the wood of Thelema a row of houses half a league long, very
+neat and cleanly, wherein dwelt the goldsmiths, lapidaries,
+embroiderers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> tailors, gold-drawers, velvet-weavers, tapestry-makers,
+and upholsterers, who wrought there every one in his own trade, and
+all for the aforesaid friars and nuns. They were furnished with matter
+and stuff from the hands of Lord Nausiclete, who every year brought
+them seven ships from the Perlas and Cannibal Islands, laden with
+ingots of gold, with raw silk, with pearls and precious stones. And if
+any pearls began to grow old, and lose somewhat of their natural
+whiteness and luster, those by their art they did renew by tendering
+them to cocks to be eaten, as they used to give casting unto hawks.</p>
+
+<p>All their life was spent not in laws, statutes, or rules, but
+according to their own free will and pleasure. They rose out of their
+beds when they thought good; they did eat, drink, labor, sleep, when
+they had a mind to it, and were disposed for it. None did awake them,
+none did constrain them to eat, drink, nor do any other thing; for so
+had Gargantua established it. In all their rule, and strictest tie of
+their order, there was but this one clause to be observed: <i>Fay ce que
+vouldras</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Because men that are free, well born, well bred, and conversant in
+honest companies, have naturally an instinct and spur that prompteth
+them unto virtuous actions and withdraws them from vice, which is
+called honor. Those same men, when by base subjection and constraint
+they are brought under and kept down, turn aside from that noble
+disposition by which they formerly were inclined to virtue, to shake
+off the bond of servitude; for it is agreeable with the nature of man
+to long after things forbidden.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JOHN_CALVIN" id="JOHN_CALVIN"></a>JOHN CALVIN</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1509, died in Geneva in 1564; studied in
+Paris and Orleans; became identified with the Reformation
+about 1528; banished from Paris in 1533; published his
+"Institutes," his most famous work, in Latin at Basel in
+1536, and in French in 1540; settled at Geneva in 1536;
+banished from Geneva in 1538; returned to Geneva in 1541;
+had a memorable controversy with Servetus in 1553; founded
+the Academy of Geneva in 1559.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_FREEDOM_FOR_THE_WILL" id="OF_FREEDOM_FOR_THE_WILL"></a>OF FREEDOM FOR THE WILL<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>God has provided the soul of man with intellect, by which he might
+discern good from evil, just from unjust, and might know what to
+follow or to shun, Reason going before with her lamp; whence
+philosophers, in reference to her directing power have called <i>&#964;&#959; &#7969;&#947;&#949;&#956;&#959;&#957;&#953;&#967;&#8001;&#957;</i>. To this he has joined will, to which choice belongs.
+Man excelled in these noble endowments in his primitive condition,
+when reason, intelligence, prudence, and judgment not only sufficed
+for the government of his earthly life, but also enabled him to rise
+up to God and eternal happiness. Thereafter choice was added to direct
+the appetites and temper all the organic motions; the will being thus
+perfectly submissive to the authority of reason.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+<p>In this upright state, man possest freedom of will, by which if he
+chose he was able to obtain eternal life.</p>
+
+<p>It were here unseasonable to introduce the question concerning the
+secret predestination of God, because we are not considering what
+might or might not happen, but what the nature of man truly was. Adam,
+therefore, might have stood if he chose, since it was only by his own
+will that he fell; but it was because his will was pliable in either
+direction, and he had not received constancy to persevere, that he so
+easily fell. Still he had a free choice of good and evil; and not only
+so, but in the mind and will there was the highest rectitude, and all
+the organic parts were duly framed to obedience, until man corrupted
+its good properties, and destroyed himself. Hence the great darkness
+of philosophers who have looked for a complete building in a ruin, and
+fit arrangement in disorder. The principle they set out with was, that
+man could not be a rational animal unless he had a free choice of good
+and evil. They also imagined that the distinction between virtue and
+vice was destroyed, if man did not of his own counsel arrange his
+life. So far well, had there been no change in man. This being unknown
+to them, it is not surprizing that they throw everything into
+confusion. But those who, while they profess to be the disciples of
+Christ, still seek for free-will in man, notwithstanding of his being
+lost and drowned in spiritual destruction, labor under manifold
+delusion, making a heterogeneous mixture of inspired doctrine and
+philosophical opinions, and so erring as to both.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But it will be better to leave these things to their own place. At
+present it is necessary only to remember that man at his first
+creation was very different from all his posterity; who, deriving
+their origin from him after he was corrupted, received a hereditary
+taint. At first every part of the soul was formed to rectitude. There
+was soundness of mind and freedom of will to choose the good. If any
+one objects that it was placed, as it were, in a slippery position
+because its power was weak, I answer, that the degree conferred was
+sufficient to take away every excuse. For surely the Deity could not
+be tied down to this condition,&mdash;to make man such that he either could
+not or would not sin. Such a nature might have been more excellent;
+but to expostulate with God as if he had been bound to confer this
+nature on man, is more than unjust, seeing he had full right to
+determine how much or how little he would give. Why he did not sustain
+him by the virtue of perseverance is hidden in his counsel; it is ours
+to keep within the bounds of soberness. Man had received the power, if
+he had the will, but he had not the will which would have given the
+power; for this will would have been followed by perseverance. Still,
+after he had received so much, there is no excuse for his having
+spontaneously brought death upon himself. No necessity was laid upon
+God to give him more than that intermediate and even transient will,
+that out of man's fall he might extract materials for his own glory.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> From "The Institutes." Calvin's work was translated into
+English by Thomas Norton and published in 1561. An abridgment,
+translated by Christopher Fetherstone, was published in Edinburgh in
+1585, and another abridgment by H. Holland in London in 1596. Many
+other translations of Calvin's writings appeared in the sixteenth
+century. John Allen issued a version of the "Institutes" in 1830,
+which has been held in esteem.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JOACHIM_DU_BELLAY" id="JOACHIM_DU_BELLAY"></a>JOACHIM DU BELLAY</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born about 1524, died in 1560; surnamed "The French Ovid"
+and "The Apollo of the Pl&eacute;iade"; noted as poet and prose
+writer; a cousin of Cardinal du Bellay and for a time his
+secretary; wrote forty-seven sonnets on the antiquities of
+Rome; his most notable work in prose is his "D&eacute;fense et
+Illustration de la Langue Fran&ccedil;oise."</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_OLD_FRENCH_WAS_NOT_AS_RICH_AS_GREEK_AND_LATIN" id="WHY_OLD_FRENCH_WAS_NOT_AS_RICH_AS_GREEK_AND_LATIN"></a>WHY OLD FRENCH WAS NOT AS RICH AS GREEK AND LATIN<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>If our language is not as copious or rich as the Greek or Latin, this
+must not be laid to their charge, assuming that our language is not
+capable in itself of being barren and sterile; but it should rather be
+attributed to the ignorance of our ancestors, who, having (as some one
+says, speaking of the ancient Romans) held good doing in greater
+estimation than good talking and preferred to leave to their posterity
+examples of virtue rather than precepts, have deprived themselves of
+the glory of their great deeds, and us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>of their imitation; and by the
+same means have left our tongue so poor and bare that it has need of
+ornament and (if we may be allowed the phrase) of borrowed plumage.</p>
+
+<p>But who is willing to admit that the Greek and Roman tongues have
+always possest that excellence which characterized them at the time of
+Homer, Demosthenes, Virgil, and Cicero? And if these authors were of
+the opinion that a little diligence and culture were incapable of
+producing greater fruit, why did they make such efforts to bring it to
+the pitch of perfection it is in to-day? I can say the same thing of
+our language, which is now beginning to bloom without bearing fruit,
+like a plant which has not yet flowered, waiting till it can produce
+all the fruit possible. This is certainly not the fault of nature who
+has rendered it more sterile than the others, but the fault of those
+who have tended it, and have not cultivated it sufficiently. Like a
+wild plant which grows in the desert, without ever being watered or
+pruned or protected by the trees and shrubs which give it shade, it
+fades and almost dies.</p>
+
+<p>If the ancient Romans had been so negligent of the culture of their
+language when first they began to develop it, it is certain that they
+could not have become so great in so short a time. But they, in the
+guise of good agriculturists, first of all transplanted it from a wild
+locality to a cultivated one, and then in order that it might bear
+fruit earlier and better, cut away several useless shoots and
+substituted exotic and domestic ones, mostly drawn from the Greek
+language, which have grafted so well on to the trunk that they appear
+no longer adopted but natural. Out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> these have sprung, from the
+Latin tongue, flowers and colored fruits in great number and of much
+eloquence, all of which things, not so much from its own nature but
+artificially, every tongue is wont to produce. And if the Greeks and
+Romans, more diligent in the culture of their tongue than we are in
+ours, found an eloquence in their language only after much labor and
+industry, are we for this reason, even if our vernacular is not as
+rich as it might be, to condemn it as something vile and of little
+value?</p>
+
+<p>The time will come perhaps, and I hope it will be for the good of the
+French, when the language of this noble and powerful kingdom (unless
+with France the whole French language is to be buried),<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> which is
+already beginning to throw out its roots, will shoot out of the ground
+and rise to such a height and size that it will even emulate that of
+the Greeks and the Romans, producing like them, Homers, Demostheneses,
+Virgils, and Ciceros, in the same way that France has already produced
+her Pericles, Alcibiades, Themistocles, and Scipio.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> From the "D&eacute;fence et Illustration de la Langue
+Fran&ccedil;oise." Translated for this collection by Eric Arthur Bell. Du
+Bellay belonged to a group of sixteenth-century writers known as the
+Pl&eacute;iade, who took upon themselves the mission of reducing the French
+language, in its literary forms, to something comparable to Greek and
+Latin. Mr. Saintsbury says they "made modern French&mdash;made it, we may
+say, twice over"; by which he means that French, in their time, was
+revolutionized, and that, in the Romantic movement of 1830, Hugo and
+his associates were armed by the work of the Pl&eacute;iade for their revolt
+against the restraints of rule and language that had been imposed by
+the eighteenth century.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Du Bellay here refers to the unhappy political state of
+France during his short life of thirty-six years. He was born one year
+before the defeat of Francis I at Pavia. When twenty years old, Henry
+VIII in league with Charles V had invaded France. Fourteen years later
+the country was distracted by disastrous religious wars which led up
+to the massacre of St. Bartholomew a few years after his death.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MICHEL_DE_MONTAIGNE" id="MICHEL_DE_MONTAIGNE"></a>MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1583, died in 1592; educated at a college
+in Bordeaux; studied law; attached to the court of Francis
+II in 1559, and to the person of Henry III in 1571; traveled
+in Germany, Italy and Switzerland in 1580; made mayor of
+Bordeaux in 1581; published his "Essays" in 1580, the first
+English translation, made by Florio, appearing in 1603.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_1" id="I_1"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>A WORD TO HIS READERS<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Reader, loe here a well-meaning Booke. It doth at the first entrance
+forewarne thee, that in contriving the same, I have proposed unto my
+selfe no other than a familiar and private end: I have no respect or
+consideration at all, either to thy service, or to my glory; my forces
+are not capable of any such desseigne. I have vowed the same to the
+particular commodity of my kinsfolks and friends: to the end, that
+losing me (which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>they are likely to do ere long) they may therein
+find some lineaments of my conditions and humors, and by that meanes
+reserve more whole, and more lively foster, the knowledge and
+acquaintance they have had of me. Had my intention beene to forestal
+and purchase the worlds opinion and favor, I would surely have adorned
+my selfe more quaintly, or kept a more grave and solemne march. I
+desire therein to be delineated in mine owne genuine, simple and
+ordinarie fashion, without contention, art or study; for it is my
+selfe I pourtray. My imperfections shall therein be read to the life,
+and my naturall forme discerned, so farre-forth as publike reverence
+hath permitted me. For if my fortune had beene to have lived among
+those nations, which yet are said to live under the sweet liberty of
+Natures first and uncorrupted lawes, I assure thee, I would most
+willingly have pourtrayed my selfe fully and naked. Thus, gentle
+Reader, my selfe am the groundworke of my booke: It is then no reason
+thou shouldest employ thy time about so frivolous and vaine a Subject.
+Therefore farewell.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> From the preface to the "Essays," as translated by John
+Florio. A copy of Florio's "Montaigne" is known to have been in the
+library of Shakespeare, one of the few extant autographs of the poet
+being in a copy of this translation now preserved in the library of
+the British Museum.
+</p><p>
+Montaigne is usually linked with Rabelais as to his important place in
+the history of French prose. The two have come down to us very much as
+Chaucer has come down in English literature&mdash;as a "well undefiled."
+Montaigne secured in his own lifetime a popularity which he has never
+lost, if, indeed, it has not been increased.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_1" id="II_1"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>OF SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>There are some particular natures that are private and retired: my
+natural way is proper for communication, and apt to lay me open; I am
+all without and in sight, born for society and friendship. The
+solitude that I love myself and recommend to others, is chiefly no
+other than to withdraw my thoughts and affections into myself; to
+restrain and check, not my steps, but my own cares and desires,
+resigning all foreign solicitude, and mortally avoiding servitude and
+obligation, and not so much the crowd of men, as the crowd of
+business. Local solitude, to say the truth, rather gives me more room,
+and sets me more at large; I more readily throw myself upon the
+affairs of state and the world, when I am alone; at the Louvre, and in
+the bustle of the court, I fold myself within my own skin; the crowd
+thrusts me upon myself; and I never entertain myself so wantonly, with
+so much license, or so especially, as in places of respect and
+ceremonious prudence: our follies do not make me laugh, but our wisdom
+does. I am naturally no enemy to a court life; I have therein passed a
+good part of my own, and am of a humor cheerfully to frequent great
+company, provided it be by intervals and at my own time: but this
+softness of judgment <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>whereof I speak, ties me perforce to solitude.
+Even at home, amidst a numerous family, and in a house sufficiently
+frequented, I see people enough, but rarely such with whom I delight
+to converse; and I there reserve both for myself and others an unusual
+liberty: there is in my house no such thing as ceremony, ushering, or
+waiting upon people down to the coach, and such other troublesome
+ceremonies as our courtesy enjoins (O servile and importunate custom!)
+Every one there governs himself according to his own method; let who
+will speak his thoughts, I sit mute, meditating and shut up in my
+closet, without any offense to my guests.</p>
+
+<p>The men, whose society and familiarity I covet, are those they call
+sincere and able men; and the image of these makes me disrelish the
+rest. It is, if rightly taken, the rarest of our forms, and a form
+that we chiefly owe to nature. The end of this commerce is simply
+privacy, frequentation and conference, the exercise of souls, without
+other fruit. In our discourse, all subjects are alike to me; let there
+be neither weight, nor depth, 'tis all one: there is yet grace and
+pertinency; all there is tinted with a mature and constant judgment,
+and mixt with goodness, freedom, gaiety, and friendship. 'Tis not only
+in talking of the affairs of kings and state, that our wits discover
+their force and beauty, but every whit as much in private conferences.
+I understand my men even by their silence and smiles; and better
+discover them, perhaps, at table, than in the council. Hippomachus
+said very well, "that he could know the good wrestlers by only seeing
+them walk in the street." If learning please to step into our talk,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+it shall not be rejected, not magisterial, imperious, and importunate,
+as it commonly is, but suffragan and docile itself; we there only seek
+to pass away our time; when we have a mind to be instructed and
+preached to, we will go seek this in its throne; please let it humble
+itself to us for the nonce; for, useful and profitable as it is, I
+imagine that, at need, we may manage well enough without it, and do
+our business without its assistance. A well-descended soul, and
+practised in the conversation of men, will of herself render herself
+sufficiently agreeable; art is nothing but the counterpart and
+register of what such souls produce.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> From the Essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," in Book
+III, Chapter III; translated by Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III_1" id="III_1"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2>OF HIS OWN LIBRARY<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>It goes side by side with me in my whole course, and everywhere is
+assisting me: it comforts me in my old age and solitude; it eases me
+of a troublesome weight of idleness, and delivers me at all hours from
+company that I dislike: it blunts the point of griefs, if they are not
+extreme, and have not got an entire possession of my soul. To divert
+myself from a troublesome fancy, 'tis but to run to my books; they
+presently fix me to them and drive the other out of my thoughts; and
+do <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>not mutiny at seeing that I have only recourse to them for want of
+other more real, natural, and lively commodities; they always receive
+me with the same kindness. He may well go afoot, they say, who leads
+his horse in his hand; and our James, King of Naples and Sicily, who,
+handsome, young and healthful, caused himself to be carried about on a
+barrow, extended upon a pitiful mattress in a poor robe of gray cloth,
+and a cap of the same, but attended withal by a royal train of
+litters, led horses of all sorts, gentlemen and officers, did yet
+herein represent a tender and unsteady authority: "The sick man is not
+to be pitied, who has his cure in his sleeve." In the experience and
+practise of this maxim, which is a very true one, consists all the
+benefit I reap from books; and yet I make as little use of them,
+almost, as those who know them not: I enjoy them as a miser does his
+money, in knowing that I may enjoy them when I please: my mind is
+satisfied with this right of possession. I never travel without books,
+either in peace or war; and yet sometimes I pass over several days,
+and sometimes months, without looking on them: I will read by and by,
+say I to myself, or to-morrow, or when I please; and in the interim,
+time steals away without any inconvenience. For it is not to be
+imagined to what degree I please myself and rest content in this
+consideration, that I have them by me to divert myself with them when
+I am disposed, and to call to mind what a refreshment they are to my
+life. 'Tis the best viaticum I have yet found out for this human
+journey, and I very much pity those men of understanding who are
+unprovided of it. I the rather accept of any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> other sort of diversion,
+how light soever, because this can never fail me.</p>
+
+<p>When at home, I a little more frequent my library, whence I overlook
+at once all the concerns of my family. 'Tis situated at the entrance
+into my house, and I thence see under me my garden, court, and
+base-court, and almost all parts of the building. There I turn over
+now one book, and then another, on various subjects without method or
+design. One while I meditate, another I record and dictate, as I walk
+to and fro, such whimsies as these I present to you here. 'Tis in the
+third story of a tower, of which the ground room is my chapel, the
+second story a chamber with a withdrawing-room and closet, where I
+often lie, to be more retired; and above is a great wardrobe. This
+formerly was the most useless part of the house. I there pass away
+both most of the days of my life and most of the hours of those days.
+In the night I am never there. There is by the side of it a cabinet
+handsome enough, with a fireplace very commodiously contrived, and
+plenty of light: and were I not more afraid of the trouble than the
+expense&mdash;the trouble that frights me from all business, I could very
+easily adjoin on either side, and on the same floor, a gallery of an
+hundred paces long, and twelve broad, having found walls already
+raised for some other design, to the requisite height.</p>
+
+<p>Every place of retirement requires a walk: my thoughts sleep if I sit
+still; my fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it: and
+all those who study without a book are in the same condition. The
+figure of my study is round, and there is no more open wall than what
+is taken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> up by my table and my chair, so that the remaining parts of
+the circle present me a view of all my books at once, ranged upon five
+rows of shelves around about me. It has three noble and free
+prospects, and is sixteen paces in diameter I am not so continually
+there in winter; for my house is built upon an eminence, as its name
+imports, and no part of it is so much exposed to the wind and weather
+as this, which pleases me the better, as being of more difficult
+access and a little remote, as well upon the account of exercise, as
+also being there more retired from the crowd. 'Tis there that I am in
+my kingdom, and there I endeavor to make myself an absolute monarch,
+and to sequester this one corner from all society, conjugal, filial,
+and civil; elsewhere I have but verbal authority only, and of a
+confused essence. That man, in my opinion, is very miserable, who has
+not a home where to be by himself, where to entertain himself alone,
+or to conceal himself from others. Ambition sufficiently plagues her
+proselytes, by keeping them always in show, like the statue of a
+public square: "Magna servitus est magna fortuna." They can not so
+much as be private in the water-closet. I have thought nothing so
+severe in the austerity of life that our monks affect, as what I have
+observed in some of their communities; namely, by rule to have a
+perpetual society of place, and numerous persons present in every
+action whatever: and think it much more supportable to be always
+alone, than never to be so.</p>
+
+<p>If any one shall tell me that it is to undervalue the muses, to make
+use of them only for sport and to pass away the time, I shall tell
+him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> that he does not know, so well as I, the value of the sport, the
+pleasure, and the pastime; I can hardly forbear to add that all other
+end is ridiculous. I live from hand to mouth, and, with reverence be
+it spoken, I only live for myself; there all my designs terminate. I
+studied, when young, for ostentation; since, to make myself a little
+wiser; and now for my diversion, but never for any profit. A vain and
+prodigal humor I had after this sort of furniture, not only for the
+supplying my own need, but, moreover, for ornament and outward show, I
+have since quite cured myself of.</p>
+
+<p>Books have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose them;
+but every good has its ill; 'tis a pleasure that is not pure and
+clean, no more than others: it has its inconveniences, and great ones
+too. The soul indeed is exercised therein; but the body, the care of
+which I must withal never neglect, remains in the mean time without
+action, and grows heavy and somber. I know no excess more prejudicial
+to me, nor more to be avoided in this my declining age.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," Book III,
+Chapter III. The translation of Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2>THAT THE SOUL DISCHARGES HER PASSIONS UPON FALSE OBJECTS WHERE TRUE ONES ARE WANTING.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>A gentleman of my country, who was very often tormented with the gout,
+being importun'd by his physicians totally to reclaim his appetite
+from all manner of salt meats, was wont presently to reply that he
+must needs have something to quarrel with in the extremity of his
+fits, and that he fancy'd that railing at and cursing one while the
+Bologna sausages, and another the dry'd tongues and the hams, was some
+mitigation to his pain. And in good earnest, as the arm when it is
+advanced to strike, if it fail of meeting with that upon which it was
+design'd to discharge the blow, and spends itself in vain, does offend
+the striker himself; and as also, that to make a pleasant prospect the
+sight should not be lost and dilated in a vast extent of empty air,
+but have some bounds to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable
+distance:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As winds do lose their strength, unless withstood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By some dark grove of strong opposing wood."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>So it appears that the soul, being transported and discompos'd, turns
+its violence upon itself, if not supply'd with something to oppose it,
+and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>therefore always requires an enemy as an object on which to
+discharge its fury and resentment. Plutarch says very well of those
+who are delighted with little dogs and monkeys, that the amorous part
+which is in us, for want of a legitimate object, rather than lie idle,
+does after that manner forge, and create one frivolous and false; as
+we see that the soul in the exercise of its passions inclines rather
+to deceive itself, by creating a false and fantastical subject, even
+contrary to its own relief, than not to have something to work upon.
+And after this manner brute beasts direct their fury to fall upon the
+stone or weapon that has hurt them, and with their teeth even execute
+their revenge upon themselves, for the injury they have receiv'd from
+another.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the fierce bear, made fiercer by the smart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the bold Lybian's mortal guided dart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turns round upon the wound, and the tough spear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Contorted o'er her breast does flying bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down....<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="f1">&mdash;<i>Claudian</i>.</p>
+
+<p>What causes of the misadventures that befall us do we not invent? What
+is it that we do not lay the fault to right or wrong, that we may have
+something to quarrel with? Those beautiful tresses, young lady, you
+may so liberally tear off, are no way guilty, nor is it the whiteness
+of those delicate breasts you so unmercifully beat, that with an
+unlucky bullet has slain your beloved brother: quarrel with something
+else. Livy, Dec. 3, l. 5., speaking of the Roman army in Spain, says
+that for the loss of two brothers, who were both great captains,
+"<i>Flere omnes repente et<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> offensare capita</i>," that they all wept, and
+tore their hair. 'Tis the common practise of affliction. And the
+philosopher Bion said pleasantly of the king, who by handfuls pull'd
+his hair off his head for sorrow, "Does this man think that baldness
+is a remedy for grief?" Who has not seen peevish gamesters worry the
+cards with their teeth, and swallow whole bales of dice in revenge for
+the loss of their money? Xerxes whipt the sea, and wrote a challenge
+to Mount Athos; Cyrus employ'd a whole army several days at work, to
+revenge himself of the river Gnidus, for the fright it had put him
+into in passing over; and Caligula demolish'd a very beautiful palace
+for the pleasure his mother had once enjoy'd there. I remember there
+was a story current, when I was a boy, that one of our neighboring
+kings, having receiv'd a blow from the hand of God, swore he would be
+reveng'd, and in order to it, made proclamation that for ten years to
+come no one should pray to him, or so much as mention him throughout
+his dominions; by which we are not so much to take measure of the
+folly, as the vain-glory of the nation of which this tale was told.
+They are vices that, indeed, always go together; but such actions as
+these have in them more of presumption than want of wit. Augustus
+C&aelig;sar, having been tost with a tempest at sea, fell to defying
+Neptune, and in the pomp of the Circensian games, to be reveng'd,
+depos'd his statue from the place it had amongst the other deities.
+Wherein he was less excusable than the former, and less than he was
+afterward, when having lost a battle under Quintilius Varus in
+Germany, in rage and despair he went running his head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> against the
+walls, and crying out, O Varus! give me my men again! for this exceeds
+all folly, for as much as impiety is joined with it, invading God
+himself, or at least Fortune, as if she had ears that were subject to
+our batteries; like the Thracians, who, when it thunders, or lightens,
+fall to shooting against heaven with Titanian madness, as if by
+flights of arrows they intended to reduce God Almighty to reason. Tho
+the ancient poet in Plutarch tells us,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"We must not quarrel heaven in our affairs."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But we can never enough decry nor sufficiently condemn the senseless
+and ridiculous sallies of our unruly passions.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> The translation of Cotton before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h2>THAT MEN ARE NOT TO JUDGE OF OUR HAPPINESS TILL AFTER DEATH<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Every one is acquainted with the story of King Cr&oelig;sus to this
+purpose, who being taken prisoner by Cyrus, and by him condemn'd to
+die, as he was going to execution, cry'd out, "O Solon, Solon!" which
+being presently reported to Cyrus, and he sending to inquire what it
+meant, Cr&oelig;sus gave him to understand that he now found the
+advertisement Solon had formerly given him true to his cost, which
+was, "That men, however fortune may smile upon them, could never be
+said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>to be happy, till they had been seen to pass over the last day
+of their lives, by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of human
+things, which upon very light and trivial occasions are subject to be
+totally chang'd into a quite contrary condition."</p>
+
+<p>And therefore it was, that Agesilaus made answer to one that was
+saying, "What a happy young man the King of Persia was to come so
+young to so mighty a kingdom." "'Tis true [said he], but neither was
+Priam unhappy at his years." In a short time, of kings of Macedon,
+successors to that mighty Alexander, were made joyners and scriveners
+at Rome; of a tyrant of Sicily, a pedant at Corinth; of a conqueror of
+one-half of the world, and general of so many armies, a miserable
+suppliant to the rascally officers of a king of Egypt. So much the
+prolongation of five or six months of life cost the great and noble
+Pompey, and no longer since than our fathers' days, Ludovico Sforza,
+the tenth duke of Milan, whom all Italy had so long truckled under,
+was seen to die a wretched prisoner at Loches, but not till he had
+lived ten years in captivity, which was the worst part of his fortune.
+The fairest of all queens (Mary, Queen of Scots), widow to the
+greatest king in Europe,<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> did she not come to die by the hand of an
+executioner? Unworthy and barbarous cruelty! and a thousand more
+examples there are of the same kind; for it seems that as storms and
+tempests have a malice to the proud and overtow'ring heights of our
+lofty buildings, there are also <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>spirits above that are envious of the
+grandeurs here below.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita qu&aelig;dam</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Obterit, et pulchros fasces, s&aelig;vasque secures</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Proculcare ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="f1">&mdash;<i>Lucret.</i>, l. 5.</p>
+
+<p>And it should seem also that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to
+surprize the last hour of our lives, to show the power she has in a
+moment to overthrow what she was so many years in building, making us
+cry out with Laborius, "<i>Nimirum hac die una plus vixi mihi quam
+vivendum fuit.</i>"&mdash;Macrob., l. 2., c. 2. "I have liv'd longer by this
+one day than I ought to have done." And in this sense, this good
+advice of Solon may reasonably be taken; but he being a philosopher,
+with which sort of men the favors and disgraces of fortune stand for
+nothing, either to the making a man happy or unhappy, and with whom
+grandeurs and powers, accidents of quality, are upon the matter
+indifferent: I am apt to think that he had some further aim, and that
+his meaning was that the very felicity of life itself, which depends
+upon the tranquillity and contentment of a well-descended spirit, and
+the resolution and assurance of a well-order'd soul, ought never to be
+attributed to any man, till he has first been seen to play the last,
+and doubtless the hardest act of his part, because there may be
+disguise and dissimulation in all the rest, where these fine
+philosophical discourses are only put on; and where accidents do not
+touch us to the quick, they give us leisure to maintain the same sober
+gravity; but in this last scene of death, there is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> no more
+counterfeiting; we must speak plain, and must discover what there is
+of pure and clean in the bottom.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Nam ver&aelig; voces tum demum pectore ab imo</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ejiciuntur, et eripitur persona manet res.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="f1">&mdash;<i>Lucret.</i>, l. 3.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then that at last truth issues from the heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vizor's gone, we act our own true part."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Wherefore at this last all the other actions of our life ought to be
+try'd and sifted. 'Tis the master-day, 'tis the day that is judge of
+all the rest, 'tis the day (says one of the ancients) that ought to
+judge of all my foregoing years. To death do I refer the essay of the
+fruit of all my studies. We shall then see whether my discourses came
+only from my mouth or from my heart. I have seen many by their death
+give a good or an ill repute to their whole life. Scipio, the
+father-in-law of Pompey the Great, in dying well, wip'd away the ill
+opinion that till then every one had conceived of him. Epaminondas
+being ask'd which of the three he had in the greatest esteem,
+Chabrias, Iphicrates, or himself; "You must first see us die (said he)
+before that question can be resolv'd": and, in truth, he would
+infinitely wrong that great man, who would weigh him without the honor
+and grandeur of his end.</p>
+
+<p>God Almightly had order'd all things as it has best pleased Him; but I
+have in my time seen three of the most execrable persons that ever I
+knew in all manners of abominable living, and the most infamous to
+boot, who all dy'd a very regular death, and in all circumstances
+compos'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> even to perfection. There are brave, and fortunate deaths. I
+have seen death cut the thread of the progress of a prodigious
+advancement, and in the height and flower of its increase of a certain
+person, with so glorious an end, that in my opinion his ambitious and
+generous designs had nothing in them so high and great as their
+interruption; and he arrived without completing his course, at the
+place to which his ambition pretended with greater glory than he could
+himself either hope or desire, and anticipated by his fall the name
+and power to which he aspir'd, by perfecting his career. In the
+judgment I make of another man's life, I always observe how he carried
+himself at his death; and the principal concern I have for my own is
+that I may die handsomely; that is, patiently and without noise.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> The translation of Cotton, before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Francis II of France, to whom she was married in 1558
+and who died two years afterward.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="RENE_DESCARTES" id="RENE_DESCARTES"></a>REN&Eacute; DESCARTES</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Touraine in 1596, died in Stockholm in 1650; founder
+of modern general philosophy; educated at a Jesuit college
+in France; lived in Paris in 1613-18; at the siege of La
+Rochelle in 1628; in retirement in Holland in 1629-49;
+defending his philosophical ideas; his first famous work,
+"Discours de la Methode," published in Leyden in 1637;
+published "Meditations of Philosophy" in 1641; a treatise on
+the passion of love in 1649; other works published after his
+death; famous as a mathematician as well as philosopher, his
+geometry being still standard in Europe.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_MATERIAL_THINGS_AND_OF_THE_EXISTENCE_OF_GOD" id="OF_MATERIAL_THINGS_AND_OF_THE_EXISTENCE_OF_GOD"></a>OF MATERIAL THINGS AND OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Several questions remain for consideration respecting the attributes
+of God and my own nature or mind. I will, however, on some other
+occasion perhaps resume the investigation of these. Meanwhile, as I
+have discovered what must be done and what avoided to arrive at the
+knowledge of truth, what I have chiefly to do is to essay to emerge
+from the state of doubt in which I have for some time been, and to
+discover whether anything can be known with certainty regarding
+material objects. But before considering whether such objects as I
+conceive exist without me, I must examine their ideas in so far as
+these are to be found in my consciousness, and discover which of them
+are distinct and which confused.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p>
+<p>In the first place, I distinctly imagine that quantity which the
+philosophers commonly call continuous, or the extension in length,
+breadth, and depth that is in this quantity, or rather in the object
+to which it is attributed. Further, I can enumerate in it many diverse
+parts, and attribute to each of these all sorts of sizes, figures,
+situations, and local motions; and, in fine, I can assign to each of
+these motions all degrees of duration. And I not only distinctly know
+these things when I thus consider them in general; but besides, by a
+little attention, I discover innumerable particulars respecting
+figures, numbers, motion, and the like, which are so evidently true,
+and so accordant with my nature, that when I now discover them I do
+not so much appear to learn anything new as to call to remembrance
+what I before knew, or for the first time to remark what was before in
+my mind, but to which I had not hitherto directed my attention. And
+what I here find of most importance is, that I discover in my mind
+innumerable ideas of certain objects, which can not be esteemed pure
+negations, altho perhaps they possess no reality beyond my thought,
+and which are not framed by me, tho it may be in my power to think, or
+not to think them, but possess true and immutable natures of their
+own.</p>
+
+<p>As, for example, when I imagine a triangle, altho there is not perhaps
+and never was in any place in the universe apart from my thought one
+such figure, it remains true, nevertheless, that this figure possesses
+a certain determinate nature, form, or essence, which is immutable and
+eternal, and not framed by me, nor in any degree dependent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> on my
+thought; as appears from the circumstance, that diverse properties of
+the triangle may be demonstrated, viz., that its three angles are
+equal to two right, that its greatest side is subtended by its
+greatest angle, and the like, which, whether I will or not, I now
+clearly discern to belong to it, altho before I did not at all think
+of them, when, for the first time, I imagined a triangle, and which
+accordingly can not be said to have been invented by me.</p>
+
+<p>Nor is it a valid objection to allege that perhaps this idea of a
+triangle came into my mind by the medium of the senses, through my
+having seen bodies of a triangular figure; for I am able to form in
+thought an innumerable variety of figures with regard to which it can
+not be supposed that they were ever objects of sense, and I can
+nevertheless demonstrate diverse properties of their nature no less
+than of the triangle, all of which are assuredly true since I clearly
+conceive them: and they are therefore something, and not mere
+negations; for it is highly evident that all that is true is something
+(truth being identical with existence); and I have already fully shown
+the truth of the principle, that whatever is clearly and distinctly
+known is true. And altho this had not been demonstrated, yet the
+nature of my mind is such as to compel me to assent to what I clearly
+conceive while I so conceive it; and I recollect that even when I
+still strongly adhered to the objects of sense, I reckoned among the
+number of the most certain truths those I clearly conceived relating
+to figures, numbers, and other matters that pertain to arithmetic and
+geometry, and in general to the pure mathematics.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But now if because I can draw from my thought the idea of an object it
+follows that all I clearly and distinctly apprehend to pertain to this
+object does in truth belong to it, may I not from this derive an
+argument for the existence of God? It is certain that I no less find
+the idea of a God in my consciousness, that is, the idea of a being
+supremely perfect, than that of any figure or number whatever: and I
+know with not less clearness and distinctness that an (actual and
+eternal) existence pertains to his nature than that all which is
+demonstrable of any figure or number really belongs to the nature of
+that figure or number; and, therefore, altho all the conclusions of
+the preceding "Meditations" were false, the existence of God would
+pass with me for a truth at least as certain as I ever judged any
+truth of mathematics to be, altho indeed such a doctrine may at first
+sight appear to contain more sophistry than truth. For, as I have been
+accustomed in every other matter to distinguish between existence and
+essence, I easily believe that the existence can be separated from the
+essence of God, and that thus God may be conceived as not actually
+existing. But, nevertheless, when I think of it more attentively, it
+appears that the existence can no more be separated from the essence
+of God than the idea of a mountain from that of a valley, or the
+equality of its three angles to two right angles, from the essence of
+a (rectilineal) triangle; so that it is not less impossible to
+conceive a God, that is, a being supremely perfect, to whom existence
+is wanting, or who is devoid of a certain perfection, than to conceive
+a mountain without a valley.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But tho, in truth, I can not conceive a God unless as existing, any
+more than I can a mountain without a valley, yet, just as it does not
+follow that there is any mountain in the world merely because I
+conceive a mountain with a valley, so likewise, tho I conceive God as
+existing, it does not seem to follow on that account that God exists;
+for my thought imposes no necessity on things; and as I may imagine a
+winged horse, tho there be none such, so I could perhaps attribute
+existence to God, tho no God existed. But the cases are not analogous,
+and a fallacy lurks under the semblance of this objection: for because
+I can not conceive a mountain without a valley, it does not follow
+that there is any mountain or valley in existence, but simply that the
+mountain or valley, whether they do or do not exist, are inseparable
+from each other; whereas, on the other hand, because I can not
+conceive God unless as existing, it follows that existence is
+inseparable from Him, and therefore that He really exists: not that
+this is brought about by my thought, or that it imposes any necessity
+on things, but, on the contrary, the necessity which lies in the thing
+itself, that is, the necessity of the existence of God, determines me
+to think in this way: for it is not in my power to conceive a God
+without existence, that is, a being supremely perfect, and yet devoid
+of an absolute perfection, as I am free to imagine a horse with or
+without wings.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> From the "Meditations," translated by John Veitch.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DUC_DE_LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD" id="DUC_DE_LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD"></a>DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1613, died in 1680; a duke and prince of distinction
+in his own day, but now known through his "Maxims,"
+"Memoirs" and "Letters"; his "Maxims" first issued
+anonymously in 1665; a sixth edition, published in 1693,
+contains fifty additional maxims; his Letters not published
+until 1818.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_SELECTION_FROM_THE_MAXIMS" id="A_SELECTION_FROM_THE_MAXIMS"></a>A SELECTION FROM THE "MAXIMS"<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The contempt of riches in philosophers was only a hidden desire to
+avenge their merit upon the injustice of fortune, by despising the
+very goods of which fortune had deprived them; it was a secret to
+guard themselves against the degradation of poverty; it was a back way
+by which to arrive at that distinction which they could not gain by
+riches.</p>
+
+<p>Perfect valor is to do without witnesses what one would do before all
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>As it is the mark of great minds to say many <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>things in a few words,
+so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Who lives without folly is not so wise as he thinks.</p>
+
+<p>There is no disguise which can long hide love where it exists, nor
+feign it where it does not.</p>
+
+<p>The gratitude of most men is but a secret desire of receiving greater
+benefits.</p>
+
+<p>Almost all the world takes pleasure in paying small debts; many people
+show gratitude for trifling, but there is hardly one who does not show
+ingratitude for great favors.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is rarer than true good nature; those who think they have it
+are generally only pliant or weak.</p>
+
+<p>There is no less eloquence in the voice, in the eyes and in the air of
+a speaker than in his choice of words.</p>
+
+<p>True eloquence consists in saying all that should be, not all that
+could be said.</p>
+
+<p>There are people whose faults become them, others whose very virtues
+disgrace them.</p>
+
+<p>We are never so happy or so unhappy as we suppose.</p>
+
+<p>Our enemies come nearer the truth in the opinions they form of us than
+we do in our opinion of ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Most people judge men only by success or by fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Love of glory, fear of shame, greed of fortune, the desire to make
+life agreeable and comfortable, and the wish to depreciate others are
+often causes of that bravery so vaunted among men.</p>
+
+<p>The fame of great men ought always to be estimated by the means used
+to acquire it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If we never flattered ourselves the flattery of others would not hurt
+us.</p>
+
+<p>When great men permit themselves to be cast down by the continuance of
+misfortune, they show us that they were only sustained by ambition,
+and not by their mind; so that <i>plus</i> a great vanity, heroes are made
+like other men.</p>
+
+<p>We may forgive those who bore us, we can not forgive those whom we
+bore.</p>
+
+<p>To praise good actions heartily is in some measure to take part in
+them.</p>
+
+<p>There is a kind of greatness which does not depend upon fortune: it is
+a certain manner that distinguishes us, and which seems to destine us
+for great things: it is the value we insensibly set upon ourselves; it
+is by this quality that we gain the deference of other men, and it is
+this which commonly raises us more above them than birth, rank, or
+even merit itself.</p>
+
+<p>The cause why the majority of women are so little given to friendship
+is, that it is insipid after having felt love.</p>
+
+<p>Women can not be completely severe unless they hate.</p>
+
+<p>The praise we give to new comers into the world arises from the envy
+we bear to those who are established.</p>
+
+<p>Little minds are too much wounded by little things; great minds see
+all and are not even hurt.</p>
+
+<p>Most young people think they are natural when they are only boorish
+and rude.</p>
+
+<p>To establish ourselves in the world we do everything to appear as if
+we were established.</p>
+
+<p>Why we hate with so much bitterness those who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> deceive us is because
+they think themselves more clever than we are.</p>
+
+<p>Too great a hurry to discharge an obligation is a kind of ingratitude.</p>
+
+<p>The moderation of those who are happy arises from the calm which good
+fortune bestows upon their temper.</p>
+
+<p>Pride is much the same in all men; the only difference is the method
+and manner of showing it.</p>
+
+<p>The constancy of the wise is only the talent of concealing the
+agitation of their hearts.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever difference there appears in our fortunes, there is
+nevertheless a certain compensation of good and evil which renders
+them equal.</p>
+
+<p>What we term virtue is often but a mass of various actions and divers
+interests, which fortune, or our own industry, manage to arrange; and
+it is not always from valor or from chastity that men are brave, and
+women chaste.</p>
+
+<p>Most men expose themselves in battle enough to save their honor, few
+wish to do so more than sufficiently, or than is necessary to make the
+design for which they expose themselves succeed.</p>
+
+<p>If we never flattered ourselves we should have but scant pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>Sincerity is an openness of heart; we find it in very few people; what
+we usually see is only an artful dissimulation to win the confidence
+of others.</p>
+
+<p>We may find women who have never indulged in an intrigue, but it is
+rare to find those who have intrigued but once.</p>
+
+<p>Every one blames his memory, no one blames his judgment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In the intercourse of life, we please more by our faults than by our
+good qualities.</p>
+
+<p>We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our friends when they
+enable us to prove our tenderness for them.</p>
+
+<p>Virtue in woman is often the love of reputation and repose.</p>
+
+<p>He is a truly good man who desires always to bear the inspection of
+good men.</p>
+
+<p>We frequently do good to enable us with impunity to do evil.</p>
+
+<p>Every one praises his heart, none dare praise their understanding.</p>
+
+<p>He is really wise who is nettled at nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p>
+
+<p>In the adversity of our best friends we always find something which is
+not wholly displeasing to us.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p><p>The confidence we have in ourselves arises in a great measure from
+that that we have in others.</p>
+
+<p>Women for the most part surrender themselves more from weakness than
+from passion. Whence it is that bold and pushing men succeed better
+than others, altho they are not so lovable.</p>
+
+<p>The great ones of the earth can neither command health of body nor
+repose of mind, and they buy always at too dear a price the good they
+can acquire.</p>
+
+<p>Few things are needed to make a wise man happy; nothing can make a
+fool content; that is why most men are miserable.</p>
+
+<p>The harm that others do us is often less than that we do ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Magnanimity is a noble effort of pride which makes a man master of
+himself, to make him master of all things.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> From the translation by J. W. Willis Bund and J. Hain
+Friswell. At least eight English translations of La Rochefoucauld had
+appeared before 1870&mdash;including the years 1689, 1694, 1706, 1749, 1799
+and 1815. Besides these, Swedish, Spanish and Italian translations
+have been made. The first English version (1689), appears to have been
+made by Mrs. Aphra Behn, the barber's daughter, upon whom has been
+conferred the distinction of being "the first female writer who lived
+by her pen in England." One of the later translations is by A. S.
+Bolton. The translation by Messrs. Bund and Friswell includes fifty
+additional maxims attributed to La Rochefoucauld.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> A maxim similar to this has been found in the writings
+of other men. Thus Massillon, in one of his sermons, said, "Vice pays
+homage to virtue in doing honor to her appearance"; and Junius,
+writing to the Duke of Grafton, said, "You have done as much mischief
+to the community as Machiavel, if Machiavel had not known that an
+appearance of morals and religion are useful in society." Both,
+however, lived in a period subsequent to that in which La
+Rochefoucauld wrote.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> This maxim, which more than any other has caused La
+Rochefoucauld to be criticized severely as a cynic, if not a
+misanthrope, appeared only in the first two editions of the book. In
+the others, published in the author's lifetime, it was supprest. In
+defense of the author, it has been maintained that what he meant by
+the saying was that the pleasure derived from a friend's misfortunes
+has its origin in the opportunity thus afforded to give him help. The
+reader should compare this saying with another that is included in
+these selections, "We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our
+friends when they enable us to prove our tenderness for them."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="BLAISE_PASCAL" id="BLAISE_PASCAL"></a>BLAISE PASCAL</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1623, died in 1662; educated in Paris;
+became celebrated at seventeen for a work on conic sections;
+became connected with the monastery at Port Royal, whose
+doctrines he defended against the Jesuits; published
+"Entretien sur Epict&eacute;te et Montaigne" in 1655; wrote his
+"Provincial Letters" in 1656-57; in his last days engaged on
+an "Apologie de la Religion Catholique" which, uncompleted,
+was published in 1670 as his "Pens&eacute;es."</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_THE_PREVALENCE_OF_SELF-LOVE" id="OF_THE_PREVALENCE_OF_SELF-LOVE"></a>OF THE PREVALENCE OF SELF-LOVE<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Self is hateful. You, Milton, conceal self, but do not thereby destroy
+it; therefore you are still hateful. Not so, for in acting as we do,
+to oblige everybody, we give no reason for hating us. True, if we only
+hated in self the vexation which it causes us. But if I hate it
+because it is unjust, and because it makes itself the center of all, I
+shall always hate it.</p>
+
+<p>In one word, Self has two qualities: it is unjust in its essence,
+because it makes itself the center of all; it is inconvenient to
+others, in that it would bring them into subjection, for each "I" is
+the enemy, and would fain be the tyrant of all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>others. You take away
+the inconvenience, but not the injustice, and thus you do not render
+it lovable to those who hate injustice; you render it lovable only to
+the unjust, who find in it an enemy no longer. Thus you remain unjust
+and can please none but the unjust.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Of Self-Love.</span>&mdash;The nature of self-love and of this human "I" is to
+love self only, and consider self only. But what can it do? It can not
+prevent the object it loves from being full of faults and miseries;
+man would fain be great and sees that he is little; would fain be
+happy, and sees that he is miserable; would fain be perfect, and sees
+that he is full of imperfections; would fain be the object of the love
+and esteem of men, and sees that his faults merit only their aversion
+and contempt. The embarrassment wherein he finds himself produces in
+him the most unjust and criminal passion imaginable. For he conceives
+a mortal hatred against that truth which blames him and convinces him
+of his faults. Desiring to annihilate it, yet unable to destroy it in
+its essence, he destroys it as much as he can in his own knowledge,
+and in that of others; that is to say, he devotes all his care to the
+concealment of his faults, both from others and from himself, and he
+can neither bear that others should show them to him, nor that they
+should see them.</p>
+
+<p>It is no doubt an evil to be full of faults, but it is a greater evil
+to be full of them, yet unwilling to recognize them, because that is
+to add the further fault of a voluntary illusion. We do not like
+others to deceive us, we do not think it just in them to require more
+esteem from us than they deserve; it is therefore unjust that we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+should deceive them, desiring more esteem from them than we deserve.</p>
+
+<p>Thus if they discover no more imperfections and vices in us than we
+really have, it is plain they do us no wrong, since it is not they who
+cause them; but rather they who do us a service, since they help us to
+deliver ourselves from an evil, the ignorance of these imperfections.
+We ought not to be troubled that they know our faults and despise us,
+since it is but just they should know us as we are, and despise us if
+we are despicable.</p>
+
+<p>Such are the sentiments which would arise in a heart full of equity
+and justice. What should we say then of our own heart, finding in it a
+wholly contrary disposition? For is it not true that we hate truth,
+and those who tell it us, and that we would wish them to have an
+erroneously favorable opinion of us, and to esteem us other than
+indeed we are?</p>
+
+<p>One proof of this fills me with dismay. The Catholic religion does not
+oblige us to tell out our sins indiscriminately to all; it allows us
+to remain hidden from men in general; but she excepts one alone, to
+whom she commands us to open the very depths of our hearts, and to
+show ourselves to him as we are. There is but this one man in the
+world whom she orders us to undeceive; she binds him to an inviolable
+secrecy, so that this knowledge is to him as tho it were not. We can
+imagine nothing more charitable and more tender. Yet such is the
+corruption of man, that he finds even this law harsh, and it is one of
+the main reasons which has set a large portion of Europe in revolt
+against the Church.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>How unjust and unreasonable is the human heart which finds it hard to
+be obliged to do in regard to one man what in some degree it were just
+to do to all men. For is it just that we should deceive them?</p>
+
+<p>There are different degrees in this dislike to the truth, but it may
+be said that all have it in some degree, for it is inseparable from
+self-love. This false delicacy causes those who must needs reprove
+others to choose so many windings and modifications in order to avoid
+shocking them. They must needs lessen our faults, seem to excuse them,
+mix praises with their blame, give evidences of affection and esteem.
+Yet this medicine is bitter to self-love, which takes as little as it
+can, always with disgust, often with a secret anger.</p>
+
+<p>Hence it happens that if any desire our love, they avoid doing us a
+service which they know to be disagreeable; they treat us as we would
+wish to be treated: we hate the truth, and they hide it from us; we
+wish to be flattered, they flatter us; we love to be deceived, they
+deceive us.</p>
+
+<p>Thus each degree of good fortune which raises us in the world removes
+us further from truth, because we fear most to wound those whose
+affection is most useful, and whose dislike is most dangerous. A
+prince may be the byword of all Europe, yet he alone know nothing of
+it. I am not surprized; to speak the truth is useful to whom it is
+spoken, but disadvantageous to those who speak it, since it makes them
+hated. Now those who live with princes love their own interests more
+than that of the prince they serve, and thus they take care not to
+benefit him so as to do themselves a disservice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>This misfortune is, no doubt, greater and more common in the higher
+classes, but lesser men are not exempt from it, since there is always
+an interest in making men love us. Thus human life is but a perpetual
+illusion, an interchange of deceit and flattery. No one speaks of us
+in our presence as in our absence. The society of men is founded on
+this universal deceit; few friendships would last if every man knew
+what his friend said of him behind his back, tho he then spoke in
+sincerity and without passion.</p>
+
+<p>Man is, then, only disguise, falsehood, and hypocrisy, both in himself
+and with regard to others. He will not be told the truth; he avoids
+telling it to others; and all these tendencies, so far removed from
+justice and reason, have their natural roots in his heart.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> From the "Thoughts." Many translations have been made of
+Pascal's "Thoughts"&mdash;one in 1680 by J. Walker, one in 1704 by Basil
+Kennet, one in 1825 by Edward Craig. A more modern one is by C. Kegan
+Paul, the London publisher, who was also a man of letters. Early
+translations from the older French, Italian and other Continental
+writers have frequently come down to us without mention of
+translators' names on title-pages or in the prefatory matter.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MADAME_DE_SEVIGNE" id="MADAME_DE_SEVIGNE"></a>MADAME DE S&Eacute;VIGN&Eacute;</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696; married in 1644 to the
+Marquis de S&eacute;vign&eacute;, who was killed in a duel in 1651; lived
+late in life in Brittany; wrote to her married daughter,
+Madame de Grigman, the famous letters from which has
+proceeded her fame.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_2" id="I_2"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>GREAT NEWS FROM PARIS<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I am going to tell you a thing, the most astonishing, the most
+surprizing, the most marvelous, the most miraculous, the most
+magnificent, the most confounding, the most unheard-of, the most
+singular, the most extraordinary, the most incredible, the most
+unforeseen, the greatest, the least, the rarest, the most common, the
+most public, the most private till to-day, the most brilliant, the
+most inevitable; in short, a thing of which there is but one example
+in past ages, and that not an exact one either; a thing that we can
+not believe at Paris; how, then, will it gain credence at Lyons? a
+thing which makes everybody cry, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" a thing
+which causes the greatest joy to Madame de <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Rohan and Madame de
+Hauterive; a thing, in fine, which is to happen on Sunday next, when
+those who are present will doubt the evidence of their senses; a thing
+which, tho it is to be done on Sunday, yet perhaps will not be
+finished on Monday.</p>
+
+<p>I can not bring myself to tell you; guess what it is. I give you three
+times to do it in. What, not a word to throw at a dog? Well, then, I
+find I must tell you. Monsieur de Lauzun is to be married next Sunday
+at the Louvre, to&mdash;pray guess to whom! I give you four times to do it
+in,&mdash;I give you six,&mdash;I give you a hundred. Says Madame de Coulanges:
+"It is really very hard to guess; perhaps it is Madame de la
+Valli&egrave;re."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p><p>Indeed madame, it is not. "It is Mademoiselle de Retz, then." No, nor she
+either; you are extremely provincial. "Lord bless me," say you, "what
+stupid wretches we are! it is Mademoiselle de Colbert all the while." Nay,
+now you are still further from the mark. "Why, then, it must certainly be
+Mademoiselle de Crequy." You have it not yet. Well, I find I must tell you
+at last. He is to be married next Sunday at the Louvre, with the King's
+leave, to Mademoiselle&mdash;Mademoiselle de&mdash;Mademoiselle&mdash;guess, pray guess
+her name; he is to be married to Mademoiselle, the great Mademoiselle;
+Mademoiselle, daughter of the late Monsieur; Mademoiselle, granddaughter of
+Henry IV; Mademoiselle d'Eu, Mademoiselle de Dombes, Mademoiselle de
+Montpensier, Mademoiselle d'Orleans, Mademoiselle, the King's
+cousin-german&mdash;Mademoiselle, destined to the throne&mdash;Mademoiselle, the only
+match in France that was worthy of Monsieur.</p>
+
+<p>What glorious matter for talk! If you should burst forth like a
+bedlamite, say we have told you a lie, that it is false, that we are
+making a jest of you, and that a pretty jest it is, without wit or
+invention; in short, if you abuse us, we shall think you are quite in
+the right; for we have done just the same things ourselves. Farewell,
+you will find by the letters you receive this post whether we tell you
+truth or not.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670. George
+Saintsbury has described Madame de S&eacute;vign&eacute; as "the most charming of
+all letter-writers in all languages." Translations of these letters
+into English were made in 1732, 1745, 1764, and other years, including
+a version by Mackie in 1802.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_2" id="II_2"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>AN IMPOSING FUNERAL DESCRIBED<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I must return to narration, it is a folly I can never resist. Prepare,
+therefore, for a description. I was yesterday at a service performed
+in honor of the Chancellor Segnier at the Oratory. Painting,
+sculpture, music, rhetoric&mdash;in a word, the four liberal arts&mdash;were at
+the expense of it. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the decorations;
+they were finely imagined, and designed by Le Brun. The mausoleum
+reached to the top of the dome, adorned with a thousand lamps, and a
+variety of figures characteristic of him in whose honor it was
+erected. Beneath were four figures of Death, bearing the marks of his
+several dignities, as having taken away his honors with his life. One
+of them held his helmet, another his ducal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>coronet, another the
+ensigns of his order, another his chancellor's mace. The four sister
+arts, painting, music, eloquence and sculpture, were represented in
+deep distress, bewailing the loss of their protector. The first
+representation was supported by the four virtues, fortitude,
+temperance, justice, and religion. Above these, four angels, or genii,
+received the soul of the deceased, and seemed preening their purple
+wings to bear their precious charge to heaven. The mausoleum was
+adorned with a variety of little seraphs who supported an illuminated
+shrine, which was fixt to the top of the cupola. Nothing so
+magnificent or so well imagined was ever seen; it is Le Brun's
+masterpiece. The whole church was adorned with pictures, devices, and
+emblems, which all bore some relation to the life, or office of the
+chancellor; and some of his noblest actions were represented in
+painting. Madame de Verneuil offered to purchase all the decoration at
+a great price; but it was unanimously resolved by those who had
+contributed to it to adorn a gallery with it, and to consecrate it as
+an everlasting monument of their gratitude and magnificence. The
+assembly was grand and numerous, but without confusion. I sat next to
+Monsieur de Tulle, Madame Colbert and the Duke of Monmouth, who is as
+handsome as when we saw him at the <i>palais royal</i>. (Let me tell you in
+a parenthesis that he is going to the army to join the King.) A young
+father of the Oratory came to speak the funeral oration. I desired
+Monsieur de Tulle to bid him come down, and to mount the pulpit in his
+place; since nothing could sustain the beauty of the spectacle, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+the excellence of the music but the force of his eloquence.</p>
+
+<p>My child, this young man trembled when he began, and we all trembled
+for him. Our ears were at first struck with a provincial accent; he is
+of Marseilles, and called Len&eacute;. But as he recovered from his
+confusion, he became so brilliant; established himself so well, gave
+so just a measure of praise to the deceased; touched with so much
+address and delicacy all the passages in his life where delicacy was
+required! placed in so true a light all that was most worthy of
+admiration; employed all the charms of expression, all the masterly
+strokes of eloquence with so much propriety and so much grace that
+every one present, without exception, burst into applause, charmed
+with so perfect, so finished a performance. He is twenty-eight years
+of age, the intimate friend of M. de Tulle, who accompanied him when
+he left the assembly. We were for naming him the Chevalier Mascaron,
+and I think he will even surpass his friend. As for the music, it was
+fine beyond all description. Baptiste exerted himself to the utmost,
+and was assisted by all the King's musicians. There was an addition
+made to that fine "Miserere," and there was a "Libera" which filled
+the eyes of the whole assembly with tears; I do not think the music in
+heaven could exceed it. There were several prelates present. I desired
+Guitaut to look for the good Bishop of Marseilles, but we could not
+see him. I whispered him that if it had been the funeral oration of
+any person living to whom he might have made his court by it he would
+not have failed to have been there. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> little pleasantry made us
+laugh, in spite of the solemnity of the ceremony. My dear child, what
+a strange letter is this! I fancy I have almost lost my senses! What
+is this long account to you? To tell the truth, I have satisfied my
+love of description.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,
+1672.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ALAIN_RENE_LE_SAGE" id="ALAIN_RENE_LE_SAGE"></a>ALAIN REN&Eacute; LE SAGE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1668, died in 1747; studied philosophy and
+law in Paris; wrote many novels and plays, some of them
+borrowed from Spanish originals; published his chief work,
+"Gil Blas," in 1715-35.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_3" id="I_3"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>IN THE SERVICE OF DR. SANGRADO<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I determined to throw myself in the way of Sig&ntilde;or Arias de Londona,
+and to look out for a new berth in his register; but as I was on my
+way to No Thoroughfare, who should come across me but Doctor Sangrado,
+whom I had not seen since the day of my master's death. I took the
+liberty of touching my hat. He kenned me in a twinkling, tho I had
+changed my dress; and with as much warmth as his temperament would
+allow him, "Heyday!" said he, "the very lad I wanted to see; you have
+never been out of my thought. I have occasion for a clever fellow
+about me, and pitched upon you as the very thing, if you can read and
+write." "Sir," replied I, "if that is all you require, I am your man."
+"In that case," rejoined he, "we need <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>look no further. Come home with
+me: it will be all comfort; I shall behave to you like a brother. You
+will have no wages, but everything will be found you. You shall eat
+and drink according to the true faith, and be taught to cure all
+diseases. In a word, you shall rather be my young Sangrado than my
+footman."</p>
+
+<p>I closed in with the doctor's proposal, in the hope of becoming an
+Esculapius under so inspired a master. He carried me home on the spur
+of the occasion, to install me in my honorable employment; which
+honorable employment consisted in writing down the name and residence
+of the patients who sent for him in his absence. There had indeed been
+a register for this purpose, kept by an old domestic; but she had not
+the gift of spelling accurately, and wrote a most perplexing hand.
+This account I was to keep. It might truly be called a bill of
+mortality; for my members all went from bad to worse during the short
+time they continued in this system. I was a sort of bookkeeper for the
+other world, to take places in the stage, and to see that the first
+come were the first served. My pen was always in my hand, for Doctor
+Sangrado had more practise than any physician of his time in
+Valladolid. He had got into reputation with the public by a certain
+professional slang, humored by a medical face, and some extraordinary
+cases more honored by implicit faith than scrupulous investigation.</p>
+
+<p>He was in no want of patients, nor consequently of property. He did
+not keep the best house in the world: we lived with some little
+attention to economy. The usual bill of fare<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> consisted of peas,
+beans, boiled apples or cheese. He considered this food as best suited
+to the human stomach; that is to say, as most amenable to the
+grinders, whence it was to encounter the process of digestion.
+Nevertheless, easy as was their passage, he was not for stopping the
+way with too much of them; and to be sure, he was in the right. But
+tho he cautioned the maid and me against repletion in respect of
+solids, it was made up by free permission to drink as much water as we
+liked. Far from prescribing us any limits in that direction, he would
+tell us sometimes: "Drink, my children: health consists in the
+pliability and moisture of the parts. Drink water by pailfuls: it is a
+universal dissolvent; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of
+the blood a little sluggish? this grand principle sets it forward: too
+rapid? its career is checked." Our doctor was so orthodox on this head
+that the advanced in years, he drank nothing himself but water. He
+defined old age to be a natural consumption which dries us up and
+wastes us away: on this principle he deplored the ignorance of those
+who call wine "old men's milk." He maintained that wine wears them out
+and corrodes them; and pleaded with all the force of his eloquence
+against that liquor, fatal in common both to the young and old&mdash;that
+friend with a serpent in its bosom&mdash;that pleasure with a dagger under
+its girdle.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week a looseness
+ensued, with some twinges, which I was blasphemous enough to saddle on
+the universal dissolvent and the new-fangled diet. I stated my
+symptoms to my master, in the hope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> that he would relax the rigor of
+his regimen and qualify my meals with a little wine; but his hostility
+to that liquor was inflexible. "If you have not philosophy enough,"
+said he, "for pure water, there are innocent infusions to strengthen
+the stomach against the nausea of aqueous quaffings. Sage, for
+example, has a very pretty flavor; and if you wish to heighten it into
+a debauch, it is only mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples
+with it&mdash;but no compounds."</p>
+
+<p>In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of
+composing delicious messes. I was so abstemious that, remarking my
+moderation, he said: "In good sooth, Gil Bias, I marvel not that you
+are no better than you are: you do not drink enough, my friend. Water
+taken in a small quantity serves only to separate the particles of
+bile and set them in action; but our practise is to drown them in a
+copious drench. Fear not, my good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid
+should either weaken or chill your stomach; far from thy better
+judgment be that silly fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you
+against all consequences; and if my authority will not serve your
+turn, read Celsus. That oracle of the ancient makes an admirable
+panegyric on water; in short, he says in plain terms that those who
+plead an inconstant stomach in favor of wine, publish a libel on their
+own viscera, and make their constitution a pretense for their
+sensuality."</p>
+
+<p>As it would have been ungenteel in me to run riot on my entrance into
+the career of practise, I affected thorough conviction; indeed, I
+thought there was something in it. I therefore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> went on drinking water
+on the authority of Celsus, or to speak in scientific terms, I began
+to drown the bile in copious drenches of that unadulterated liquor;
+and tho I felt myself more out of order from day to day, prejudice won
+the cause against experience. It is evident therefore that I was in
+the right road to the practise of physic. Yet I could not always be
+insensible to the qualms which increased in my frame, to that degree
+as to determine me on quitting Doctor Sangrado. But he invested me
+with a new office which changed my tone. "Hark you, my child," said he
+to me one day: "I am not one of those hard and ungrateful masters who
+leave their household to grow gray in service without a suitable
+reward. I am well pleased with you, I have a regard for you; and
+without waiting till you have served your time, I will make your
+fortune. Without more ado, I will initiate you in the healing art, of
+which I have for so many years been at the head. Other physicians make
+the science to consist of various unintelligible branches; but I will
+shorten the road for you, and dispense with the drudgery of studying
+natural philosophy, pharmacy, botany, and anatomy. Remember, my
+friend, that bleeding and drinking warm water are the two grand
+principles&mdash;the true secret of curing all the distempers incident to
+humanity. Yes, this marvelous secret which I reveal to you, and which
+Nature, beyond the reach of my colleagues, has failed in rescuing from
+my pen, is comprehended in these two articles; namely, bleeding and
+drenching. Here you have the sum total of my philosophy; you are
+thoroughly bottomed in medicine, and may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> raise yourself to the summit
+of fame on the shoulders of my long experience. You may enter into
+partnership at once, by keeping the books in the morning and going out
+to visit patients in the afternoon. While I dose the nobility and
+clergy, you shall labor in your vocation among the lower orders; and
+when you have felt your ground a little, I will get you admitted into
+our body. You are a philosopher, Gil Blas, tho you have never
+graduated; the common herd of them, tho they have graduated in due
+form and order, are likely to run out the length of their tether
+without knowing their right hand from their left."</p>
+
+<p>I thanked the doctor for having so speedily enabled me to serve as his
+deputy; and by way of acknowledging his goodness, promised to follow
+his system to the end of my career, with a magnanimous indifference
+about the aphorisms of Hippocrates. But that engagement was not to be
+taken to the letter. This tender attachment to water went against the
+grain, and I had a scheme for drinking wine every day snugly among the
+patients. I left off wearing my own suit a second time, to take up one
+of my master's and look like an experienced practitioner. After which
+I brought my medical theories into play, leaving those it might
+concern to look to the event. I began on an alguazil in a pleurisy; he
+was condemned to be bled with the utmost rigor of the law, at the same
+time that the system was to be replenished copiously with water. Next
+I made a lodgment in the veins of a gouty pastry-cook, who roared like
+a lion by reason of gouty spasms. I stood on no more ceremony with
+his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> blood than with that of the alguazil, and laid no restriction on
+his taste for simple liquids. My prescriptions brought me in twelve
+rials: an incident so auspicious in my professional career, that I
+only wished for the plagues of Egypt on all the hale subjects of
+Valladolid....</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> From "Gil Blas," which is perhaps as well known in
+English as in French, innumerable translations having been made. The
+best known is the one by Tobias Smollett, which has survived in favor
+to the present time. A translation by P. Proctor appeared in 1774, one
+by Martin Smart in 1807, and one by Benjamin H. Malkin in 1809.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_3" id="II_3"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>AS AN ARCHBISHOP'S FAVORITE<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I had been after dinner to get together my baggage, and take my horse
+from the inn where I had put up; and afterward returned to supper at
+the archbishop's palace, where a neatly furnished room was got ready
+for me, and such a bed as was more likely to pamper than to mortify
+the flesh. The day following his Grace sent for me quite as soon as I
+was ready to go to him. It was to give me a homily to transcribe. He
+made a point of having it copied with all possible accuracy. It was
+done to please him; for I omitted neither accent, nor comma, nor the
+minutest tittle of all he had marked down. His satisfaction at
+observing this was heightened by its being unexpected. "Eternal
+Father!" exclaimed he in a holy rapture, when he had glanced his eye
+over all the folios of my copy, "was ever anything seen so correct?
+You are too good a transcriber not to have some little smattering of
+the grammarian. Now tell me with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>the freedom of a friend: in writing
+it over, have you been struck with nothing that grated upon your
+feelings? Some little careless idiom, or some word used in an improper
+sense?" "Oh, may it please your Grace," answered I with a modest air,
+"it is not for me, with my confined education and coarse taste, to aim
+at making critical remarks. And tho ever so well qualified, I am
+satisfied that your Grace's works would come out pure from the essay."
+The successor of the apostles smiled at my answer. He made no
+observation on it; but it was easy to see through all his piety that
+he was an arrant author at the bottom: there is something in that dye
+that not heaven itself can wash out.</p>
+
+<p>I seemed to have purchased the fee simple of his good graces by my
+flattery. Day after day did I get a step farther in his esteem; and
+Don Ferdinand, who came to see him very often, told me my footing was
+so firm that there could not be a doubt but my fortune was made. Of
+this my master himself gave me a proof some little time afterward; and
+the occasion was as follows: One evening in his closet he rehearsed
+before me, with appropriate emphasis and action, a homily which he was
+to deliver the next day in the cathedral. He did not content himself
+with asking me what I thought of it in the gross, but insisted on my
+telling him what passages struck me most. I had the good fortune to
+pick out those which were nearest to his own taste&mdash;his favorite
+commonplaces. Thus, as luck would have it, I passed in his estimation
+for a man who had a quick and natural relish of the real and less
+obvious beauties in a work. "This indeed," exclaimed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> he, "is what you
+may call having discernment and feeling in perfection! Well, well, my
+friend! it can not be said of you,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<i>Beatum in crasso jurares a&euml;re natum.</i>'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>In a word, he was so highly pleased with me as to add in a tone of
+extraordinary emotion, "Never mind, Gil Bias! henceforward take no
+care about hereafter: I shall make it my business to place you among
+the favored children of my bounty. You have my best wishes; and to
+prove to you that you have them, I shall take you into my inmost
+confidence."</p>
+
+<p>These words were no sooner out of his mouth than I fell at his Grace's
+feet, quite overwhelmed with gratitude. I embraced his elliptical legs
+with almost pagan idolatry, and considered myself as a man on the
+high-road to a very handsome fortune. "Yes, my child," resumed the
+archbishop, whose speech had been cut short by the rapidity of my
+prostration, "I mean to make you the receiver-general of all my inmost
+ruminations. Harken attentively to what I am going to say. I have a
+great pleasure in preaching. The Lord sheds a blessing on my homilies;
+they sink deep into the hearts of sinners; set up a glass in which
+vice sees its own image, and bring back many from the paths of error
+into the high-road of repentance. What a heavenly sight, when a miser,
+scared at the hideous picture of his avarice drawn by my eloquence,
+opens his coffers to the poor and needy, and dispenses the accumulated
+store with a liberal hand! The voluptuary, too, is snatched from the
+pleasures of the table; ambition flies at my command to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> wholesome
+discipline of the monastic cell; while female frailty, tottering on
+the brink of ruin, with one ear open to the siren voice of the seducer
+and the other to my saintly correctives, is restored to domestic
+happiness and the approving smile of heaven, by the timely warnings of
+the pulpit.</p>
+
+<p>"These miraculous conversions, which happen almost every Sunday, ought
+of themselves to goad me on in the career of saving souls.
+Nevertheless, to conceal no part of my weakness from my monitor, there
+is another reward on which my heart is intent&mdash;a reward which the
+seraphic scrupulousness of my virtue to little purpose condemns as too
+carnal&mdash;a literary reputation for a sublime and elegant style. The
+honor of being handed down to posterity as a perfect pulpit orator has
+its irresistible attractions. My compositions are generally thought to
+be equally powerful and persuasive; but I could wish of all things to
+steer clear of the rock on which good authors split who are too long
+before the public, and to retire from professional life with my
+reputation in undiminished luster. To this end, my dear Gil Blas,"
+continued the prelate, "there is one thing requisite from your zeal
+and friendship. Whenever it shall strike you that my pen begins to
+contract, as it were, the ossification of old age, whenever you see my
+genius in its climateric, do not fail to give me a hint. There is no
+trusting to one's self in such a case: pride and conceit were the
+original sin of man. The probe of criticism must be entrusted to an
+impartial stander-by, of fine talents and unshaken probity. Both those
+requisites center in you:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> you are my choice, and I give myself up to
+your direction."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven be praised, my lord," said I, "there is no need to trouble
+yourself with any such thoughts yet. Besides, an understanding of your
+Grace's mold and caliber will last out double the time of a common
+genius; or to speak with more certainty and truth, it will never be
+the worse for wear, if you live to the age of Methusaleh. I consider
+you as a second Cardinal Ximenes, whose powers, superior to decay,
+instead of flagging with years, seemed to derive new vigor from their
+approximation with the heavenly regions." "No flattery, my friend!"
+interrupted he. "I know myself to be in danger of failing all at once.
+At my age one begins to be sensible of infirmities, and those of the
+body communicate with the mind, I repeat it to you, Gil Bias, as soon
+as you shall be of opinion that my head is not so clear as usual, give
+me warning of it instantly. Do not be afraid of offending by frankness
+and sincerity: to put me in mind of my own frailty will be the
+strongest proof of your affection for me. Besides, your very interest
+is concerned in it; for if it should, by any spite of chance toward
+you, come to my ears that the people say in town, 'His Grace's sermons
+produce no longer their accustomed impression; it is time for him to
+abandon his pulpit to younger candidates'&mdash;I do assure you, most
+seriously and solemnly, you will lose not only my friendship, but the
+provision for life that I have promised you. Such will be the result
+of your silly tampering with truth."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Here my patron left off to wait for my answer, which was an echo of
+his speech, and a promise of obeying him in all things. From that
+moment there were no secrets from me; I became the prime favorite. All
+the household, except Melchior de la Ronda, looked at me with an eye
+of envy. It was curious to observe the manner in which the whole
+establishment, from the highest to the lowest, thought it necessary to
+demean themselves toward his Grace's confidential secretary; there was
+no meanness to which they would not stoop to curry favor with me: I
+could scarcely believe they were Spaniards. I left no stone unturned
+to be of service to them, without being taken in by their interested
+assiduities.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> From "Gil Blas."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DUC_DE_SAINT-SIMON" id="DUC_DE_SAINT-SIMON"></a>DUC DE SAINT-SIMON</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1675, died in 1755; served in the army in
+the time of Louis XIV; member of the Council of Regency in
+the reign of Louis XV; ambassador to Spain to 1721; his
+"Memoirs," first published in twenty volumes it 1829-30; not
+to be confounded with the Count of Saint-Simon, the
+philosopher and socialist, the memoir writer being a duke.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_4" id="I_4"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Monseigneur le Dauphin, ill and agitated by the most bitter grief,
+kept his chamber; but on Saturday morning of the 13th, being prest to
+go to Marly to avoid the horror of the noise where the Dauphine was
+lying dead, he set out for that place at seven o'clock in the morning.
+Shortly after arriving he heard mass in the chapel, and thence was
+carried in a chair to the window of one of his rooms. Madame de
+Maintenon came to see him there afterward. The anguish of the
+interview was speedily too much for her, and she went away. Early in
+the morning I went uninvited to see M. le Dauphin. He showed me that
+he perceived this with an air of gentleness and of affection which
+penetrated me. But I was terrified with his looks, constrained, fixt
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>and with something wild about them; with the change of his looks and
+with the marks there, livid rather than red, that I observed in good
+number and large; marks observed by the others also.</p>
+
+<p>The Dauphin was standing. In a few moments he was apprized that the
+King had awaked. The tears that he had restrained now rolled from his
+eyes; he turned round at the news, but said nothing, remaining stock
+still. His three attendants proposed to him once or twice that he
+should go to the King. He neither spoke nor stirred. I approached and
+made signs to him to go, then softly spoke to the same effect. Seeing
+that he still remained speechless and motionless, I made bold to take
+his arm, representing to him that sooner or later he must see the
+King, who expected him, and assuredly with the desire to see and
+embrace him. He cast upon me a look that pierced my soul and went
+away. I followed him some few steps and then withdrew to recover
+breath. I never saw him again. May I, by the mercy of God, see him
+eternally where God's goodness doubtless has placed him!</p>
+
+<p>The Dauphin reached the chamber of the King, full just then of
+company. As soon as he appeared the King called him and embraced him
+tenderly again and again. These first moments, so touching, passed in
+words broken by sobs and tears. Shortly afterward the King, looking at
+the Dauphin, was terrified by the same things that had previously
+struck me with affright. Everybody around was so also, the doctors
+more than the others. The King ordered them to feel his pulse, that
+they found bad, so they said afterward;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> for the time they contented
+themselves with saying that it was not regular, and that the Dauphin
+would do wisely to go to bed. The King embraced him again, recommended
+him very tenderly to take care of himself, and ordered him to go to
+bed. He obeyed and rose no more!</p>
+
+<p>It was now late in the morning. The King had passed a cruel night and
+had a bad headache; he saw at his dinner the few courtiers who
+presented themselves, and then after dinner went to the Dauphin. The
+fever had augmented, the pulse was worse than before. The King passed
+into the apartment of Madame de Maintenon, and the Dauphin was left
+with attendants and his doctors. He spent the day in prayers and holy
+reading.</p>
+
+<p>On the morrow, Sunday, the uneasiness felt on account of the Dauphin
+augmented. He himself did not conceal his belief that he would never
+rise again, and that the plot Pondin had warned him of had been
+executed. He explained himself to this effect more than once and
+always with a disdain of earthly grandeur and an incomparable
+submission and love of God. It is impossible to describe the general
+consternation. On Monday the 15th the King was bled. The Dauphin was
+no better than before. The King and Madame de Maintenon saw him
+separately several times during the day, which was passed in prayers
+and reading.</p>
+
+<p>On Tuesday, the 16th, the Dauphin was worse. He felt himself devoured
+by a consuming fire, which the external fever did not seem to justify,
+but the pulse was very extraordinary and exceedingly menacing. This
+was a deceptive day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> The marks in the Dauphin's face extended all
+over the body. They were regarded as the marks of measles. Hope arose
+thereon, but the doctors and the most clear-sighted of the court could
+not forget that these same marks had shown themselves on the body of
+the Dauphine, a fact unknown out of her chamber until after death.</p>
+
+<p>On Wednesday, the 17th, the malady considerably increased. I had news
+at all times of the Dauphin's state from Cheverney, an excellent
+apothecary of the King and of my family. He hid nothing from us. He
+had told us what he thought of the Dauphine's illness; he told us now
+what he thought of the Dauphin's. I no longer hoped therefore, or
+rather I hoped to the end against all hope.</p>
+
+<p>On Wednesday the pains increased. They were like a devouring fire, but
+more violent than ever. Very late into the evening the Dauphin sent to
+the King for permission to receive the communion early the next
+morning and without display at the mass performed in his chamber.
+Nobody heard of this that evening; it was not known until the
+following morning. I was in extreme desolation. I scarcely saw the
+King once a day. I did nothing but go in quest of news several times a
+day, and to the house of M. de Chevreuse, where I was completely free.
+M. de Chevreuse&mdash;always calm, always sanguine&mdash;endeavored to prove to
+us by his medical reasonings that there was more reason to hope than
+to fear; but he did so with a tranquillity that roused my impatience.
+I returned home to pass a cruel night.</p>
+
+<p>On Thursday morning, the 18th February, I learned that the Dauphin,
+who had waited for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> midnight with impatience, had heard mass
+immediately after the communion, had passed two hours in devout
+communication with God, and that his reason then became embarrassed.
+Madame de Saint-Simon told me afterward that he had received extreme
+unction; in fine that he had died at half-past eight.</p>
+
+<p>These memoirs are not written to describe my private sentiments. But
+in reading them&mdash;if long after me they shall ever appear&mdash;my state and
+that of Madame de Saint-Simon will only too keenly be felt. I will
+content myself with saying that the first days after the Dauphin's
+death scarcely appeared to us more than moments; that I wished to quit
+all, to withdraw from the court and the world, and that I was only
+hindered by the wisdom, conduct and power over me of Madame de
+Saint-Simon, who yet had some trouble to subdue my sorrowful desire.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> From the "Memoirs on the Reign of Louis XIV and the
+Regency." Translated by Bayle St. John, traveler and Author, his
+"Village Life Egypt" appearing in 1852.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_4" id="II_4"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE PUBLIC WATCHING THE KING AND MADAME<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The King wished to show the court all the maneuvers of war; the siege
+of Compi&egrave;gne was therefore undertaken, according to due form, with
+lines, trenches, batteries, mines, etc. On Saturday, the 13th of
+September, the assault took place. To witness it, the King, Madame de
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>Maintenon,<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> all the ladies of the court, and a number of
+gentlemen, stationed themselves upon an old rampart, from which the
+plain and all the disposition of the troops could be seen. I was in
+the half-circle very close to the King. It was the most beautiful
+sight that can be imagined to see all that army, and the prodigious
+number of spectators on horse and foot, and that game of attack and
+defense so cleverly conducted.</p>
+
+<p>But a spectacle of another sort&mdash;that I could paint forty years hence
+as well as to-day, so strongly did it strike me&mdash;was that which from
+the summit of this rampart the King gave to all his army, and to the
+innumerable crowd of spectators of all kinds in the plain below.
+Madame de Maintenon faced the plain and the troops in her sedan-chair,
+alone, between its three windows drawn up; her porters having retired
+to a distance. On the left pole in front <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>sat Madame la Duchesse de
+Bourgogne; and on the same side, in a semicircle, standing, were
+Madame la Duchesse, Madame la Princesse de Conti, and all the
+ladies&mdash;and behind them again, many men. At the right window was the
+King, standing, and a little in the rear a semicircle of the most
+distinguished men of the court. The King was nearly always uncovered;
+and every now and then stooped to speak to Madame de Maintenon, and
+explain to her what she saw, and the reason of each movement.</p>
+
+<p>Each time that he did so she was obliging enough to open the window
+four or five inches, but never half-way; for I noticed particularly,
+and I admit that I was more attentive to this spectacle than to that
+of the troops. Sometimes she opened of her own accord to ask some
+question of him: but generally it was he who, without waiting for her,
+stooped down to instruct her of what was passing; and sometimes, if
+she did not notice him, he tapped at the glass to make her open it. He
+never spoke save to her, except when he gave a few brief orders, or
+just answered Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne, who wanted to make him
+speak, and with whom Madame de Maintenon carried on a conversation by
+signs, without opening the front window, through which the young
+princess screamed to her from time to time. I watched the countenance
+of every one carefully: all exprest surprize, tempered with prudence,
+and shame that was, as it were, ashamed of itself; every one behind
+the chair and in the semicircle watched this scene more than what was
+going on in the army. The King often put his hat on the top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> of the
+chair in order to get his head in to speak; and this continual
+exercise tired his loins very much. Monseigneur was on horseback in
+the plain with the young princes. It was about five o'clock in the
+afternoon, and the weather was as brilliant as could be desired.</p>
+
+<p>Opposite the sedan-chair was an opening with some steps cut through
+the wall, and communicating with the plain below. It had been made for
+the purpose of fetching orders from the King, should they be
+necessary. The case happened. Crenan, who commanded, sent Conillac, an
+officer in one of the defending regiments, to ask for some
+instructions from the King. Conillac had been stationed at the foot of
+the rampart, where what was passing above could not be seen. He
+mounted the steps; and as soon as his head and shoulders were at the
+top, caught sight of the chair, the King, and all the assembled
+company. He was not prepared for such a scene; and it struck him with
+such astonishment that he stopt short, with mouth and eyes wide
+open&mdash;surprize painted upon every feature. I see him now as distinctly
+as I did then. The King, as well as the rest of the company, remarked
+the agitation of Conillac, and said to him with emotion, "Well,
+Conillac! come up." Conillac remained motionless, and the King
+continued, "Come up. What is the matter?" Conillac, thus addrest,
+finished his ascent, and came toward the King with slow and trembling
+steps, rolling his eyes from right to left like one deranged. Then he
+stammered something, but in a tone so low that it could not be heard.
+"What do you say?" cried the King. "Speak up." But Conillac was
+unable; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> the King, finding he could get nothing out of him, told
+him to go away. He did not need to be told twice, but disappeared at
+once. As soon as he was gone, the King looking round said, "I don't
+know what is the matter with Conillac. He has lost his wits: he did
+not remember what he had to say to me." No one answered.</p>
+
+<p>Toward the moment of the capitulation, Madame de Maintenon apparently
+asked permission to go away; for the King cried, "The chairmen of
+madame!" They came and took her away; in less than a quarter of an
+hour afterward the King retired also, and nearly everybody else. There
+was much interchange of glances, nudging with elbows, and then
+whisperings in the ear. Everybody was full of what had taken place on
+the ramparts between the King and Madame de Maintenon. Even the
+soldiers asked what meant that sedan-chair, and the King every moment
+stooping to put his head inside of it. It became necessary gently to
+silence these questions of the troops. What effect this sight had upon
+foreigners present, and what they said of it, may be imagined. All
+over Europe it was as much talked of as the camp of Compi&egrave;gne itself,
+with all its pomp and prodigious splendor.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> From the "Memoirs."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> At the period of which Saint-Simon here writes, Madame
+de Maintenon had acquired that ascendency over Louis XIV which
+resulted in her marriage to him. She had been born in a prison, and
+was three years the senior of the King. Her first husband was the poet
+Scarron, at whose death, after a marriage of nine years, she had found
+herself in poverty. She secured a pension from Anne of Austria, the
+mother of the King, but at the queen-mother's death the pension was
+discontinued. She was placed in charge of the King's natural son, to
+whom she became much devoted, and was advanced through the King's
+favor to various positions at court, receiving in 1678 the title of
+marquise. Five years later the queen of Louis XIV died, and Louis
+married Madame de Maintenon, whose influence over him in matters of
+church and state became thereafter very great. She was a patroness of
+art and literature, intensely orthodox in religion, and has been held
+largely responsible for the King's revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
+which occurred during the year of their marriage, tho she opposed the
+violent persecutions which followed.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="BARON_DE_MONTESQUIEU" id="BARON_DE_MONTESQUIEU"></a>BARON DE MONTESQUIEU</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born near Bordeaux in 1689, died in Paris in 1755; studied
+law and became a councilor in 1716; president of the
+Bordeaux Parliament; devoted himself to a study of
+literature and jurisprudence; published "Persian Letters" in
+1721, which secured him an election to the Academy in 1728;
+traveled in Austria, Italy, Germany, Holland and England;
+published "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans" in 1734,
+and "Spirit of the Laws" in 1748.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_5" id="I_5"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF THE CAUSES WHICH DESTROYED ROME<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>While the sovereignty of Rome was confined to Italy, it was easy for
+the commonwealth to subsist: every soldier was at the same time a
+citizen; every Consul raised an army, and other citizens marched into
+the field under his successor: as their forces were not very numerous,
+such persons only were received among the troops as had possessions
+considerable enough to make them interested in the preservation of the
+city; the Senate kept a watchful eye over the conduct of the generals,
+and did not give them an opportunity <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>of machinating anything to the
+prejudice of their country.</p>
+
+<p>But after the legions had passed the Alps and crossed the sea, the
+soldiers whom the Romans had been obliged to leave during several
+campaigns in the countries they were subduing, lost insensibly that
+genius and turn of mind which characterized a Roman citizen; and the
+generals having armies and kingdoms at their disposal were sensible of
+their own strength, and would no longer obey.</p>
+
+<p>The soldiers therefore began to acknowledge no superior but their
+general; to found their hopes on him only, and to view the city as
+from a great distance: they were no longer the soldiers of the
+republic, but of Sulla, of Marius, of Pompey, and of C&aelig;sar. The Romans
+could no longer tell whether the person who headed an army in a
+province was their general or their enemy.</p>
+
+<p>So long as the people of Rome were corrupted by their tribunes only,
+on whom they could bestow nothing but their power, the Senate could
+easily defend themselves, because they acted consistently and with one
+regular tenor, whereas the common people were continually shifting
+from the extremes of fury to the extremes of cowardice; but when they
+were enabled to invest their favorites with a formidable exterior
+authority, the whole wisdom of the Senate was baffled, and the
+commonwealth was undone.</p>
+
+<p>The reason why free states are not so permanent as other forms of
+government is because the misfortunes and successes which happen to
+them generally occasion the loss of liberty; whereas the successes and
+misfortunes of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> arbitrary government contribute equally to the
+enslaving of the people. A wise republic ought not to run any hazard
+which may expose it to good or ill fortune; the only happiness the
+several individuals of it should aspire after is to give perpetuity to
+their state.</p>
+
+<p>If the unbounded extent of the Roman empire proved the ruin of the
+republic, the vast compass of the city was no less fatal to it.</p>
+
+<p>The Romans had subdued the whole universe by the assistance of the
+nations of Italy, on whom they had bestowed various privileges at
+different times. Most of those nations did not at first set any great
+value on the freedom of the city of Rome, and some chose rather to
+preserve their ancient usages; but when this privilege became that of
+universal sovereignty&mdash;when a man who was not a Roman citizen was
+considered as nothing, and with this title was everything&mdash;the people
+of Italy resolved either to be Romans or die: not being able to obtain
+this by cabals and entreaties, they had recourse to arms; and rising
+in all that part of Italy opposite to the Ionian sea, the rest of the
+allies were going to follow their example. Rome, being now forced to
+combat against those who were, if I may be allowed the figure, the
+hands with which they shackled the universe, was upon the brink of
+ruin; the Romans were going to be confined merely to their walls: they
+therefore granted this so much wished-for privilege to the allies who
+had not yet been wanting in fidelity; and they indulged it, by
+insensible degrees, to all other nations.</p>
+
+<p>But now Rome was no longer that city the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> inhabitants of which had
+breathed one and the same spirit, the same love for liberty, the same
+hatred of tyranny; a city in which a jealousy of the power of the
+Senate and of the prerogatives of the great (ever accompanied with
+respect) was only a love of equality. The nations of Italy being made
+citizens of Rome, every city brought thither its genius, its
+particular interests, and its dependence on some mighty protector:
+Rome, being now rent and divided, no longer formed one entire body,
+and men were no longer citizens of it but in a kind of fictitious way;
+as there were no longer the same magistrates, the same walls, the same
+gods, the same temples, the same burying-places, Rome was no longer
+beheld with the same eyes; the citizens were no longer fired with the
+same love for their country, and the Roman sentiments were
+obliterated.</p>
+
+<p>Cities and nations were now invited to Rome by the ambitious, to
+disconcert the suffrages, or influence them in their own favor; the
+public assemblies were so many conspiracies against the state, and a
+tumultuous crowd of seditious wretches was dignified with the title of
+Comitia. The authority of the people and their laws&mdash;nay, that people
+themselves&mdash;were no more than so many chimeras; and so universal was
+the anarchy of those times that it was not possible to determine
+whether the people had made a law or not.</p>
+
+<p>Authors enlarge very copiously on the divisions which proved the
+destruction of Rome; but their readers seldom discover those divisions
+to have been always necessary and inevitable. The grandeur of the
+republic was the only source of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> calamity, and exasperated
+popular tumults into civil wars. Dissensions were not to be prevented;
+and those martial spirits which were so fierce and formidable abroad
+could not be habituated to any considerable moderation at home. Those
+who expect in a free state to see the people undaunted in war and
+pusillanimous in peace, are certainly desirous of impossibilities; and
+it may be advanced as a general rule that whenever a perfect calm is
+visible, in a state that calls itself a republic, the spirit of
+liberty no longer subsists.</p>
+
+<p>Union, in a body politic, is a very equivocal term: true union is such
+a harmony as makes all the particular parts, as opposite as they may
+seem to us, concur to the general welfare of the society, in the same
+manner as discords in music contribute to the general melody of sound.
+Union may prevail in a state full of seeming commotions; or in other
+words, there may be a harmony from whence results prosperity, which
+alone is true peace; and may be considered in the same view as the
+various parts of this universe, which are eternally connected by the
+action of some and the reaction of others.</p>
+
+<p>In a despotic state, indeed, which is every government where the power
+is immoderately exerted, a real division is perpetually kindled. The
+peasant, the soldier, the merchant, the magistrate, and the grandee,
+have no other conjunction than what arises from the ability of the one
+to oppress the other without resistance; and if at any time a union
+happens to be introduced, citizens are not then united, but dead
+bodies are laid in the grave contiguous to each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It must be acknowledged that the Roman laws were too weak to govern
+the republic; but experience has proved it to be an invariable fact
+that good laws, which raise the reputation and power of a small
+republic, become incommodious to it when once its grandeur is
+established, because it was their natural effect to make a great
+people but not to govern them.</p>
+
+<p>The difference is very considerable between good laws and those which
+may be called convenient; between such laws as give a people dominion
+over others, and such as continue them in the possession of power when
+they have once acquired it.</p>
+
+<p>There is at this time a republic in the world (the Canton of Berne),
+of which few persons have any knowledge, and which, by plans
+accomplished in silence and secrecy, is daily enlarging its power. And
+certain it is that if it ever rises to that height of grandeur for
+which it seems preordained by its wisdom, it must inevitably change
+its laws; and the necessary innovations will not be effected by any
+legislator, but must spring from corruption itself.</p>
+
+<p>Rome was founded for grandeur, and her laws had an admirable tendency
+to bestow it; for which reason, in all the variations of her
+government, whether monarchy, aristocracy, or popular, she constantly
+engaged in enterprises which required conduct to accomplish them, and
+always succeeded. The experience of a day did not furnish her with
+more wisdom than all other nations, but she obtained it by a long
+succession of events. She sustained a small, a moderate, and an
+immense fortune with the same superiority,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> derived true welfare from
+the whole train of her prosperities, and refined every instance of
+calamity into beneficial instructions.</p>
+
+<p>She lost her liberty because she completed her work too soon.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Montesquieu is declared by Mr. Saintsbury to deserve the
+title of "the greatest man of letters of the French eighteenth
+century." He places him above Voltaire because "of his far greater
+originality and depth of thought."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans," of
+which an English translation was issued as early as 1751.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_5" id="II_5"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>OF THE RELATION OF LAWS TO DIFFERENT HUMAN BEINGS<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Laws, in their most general signification, are the necessary relations
+arising from the nature of things. In this sense all beings have their
+laws; the Deity His laws, the material world its laws, the
+intelligences superior to man their laws, the beasts their laws, man
+his laws.</p>
+
+<p>They who assert that a blind fatality produced the various effects we
+behold in this world talk very absurdly; for can anything be more
+unreasonable than to pretend that a blind fatality could be productive
+of intelligent beings?</p>
+
+<p>There is, then, a primitive reason; and laws are the relations
+subsisting between it and different beings, and the relations of these
+to one another.</p>
+
+<p>God is related to the universe, as Creator and Preserver; the laws by
+which He created all things are those by which He preserves them. He
+acts according to these rules, because He knows them; He knows them,
+because He made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>them; and He made them, because they are relative to
+His wisdom and power.</p>
+
+<p>Since we observe that the world, tho formed by the motion of matter,
+and void of understanding, subsists through so long a succession of
+ages, its motions must certainly be directed by invariable laws; and
+could we imagine another world, it must also have constant rules, or
+it would inevitably perish.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the creation, which seems an arbitrary net, supposes laws as
+invariable as those of the fatality of the atheists. It would be
+absurd to say that the Creator might govern the world without these
+rules, since without them it could not subsist.</p>
+
+<p>These rules are a fixt and variable relation. In bodies moved, the
+motion is received, increased, diminished, lost, according to the
+relations of the quantity of matter and velocity; each diversity is
+uniformity, each change is constancy.</p>
+
+<p>Particular intelligent beings may have laws of their own making, but
+they have some likewise which they never made. Before they were
+intelligent beings, they were possible; they had therefore possible
+relations, and consequently possible laws. Before laws were made,
+there were relations of possible justice. To say that there is nothing
+just or unjust but what is commanded or forbidden by positive laws is
+the same as saying that before the describing of a circle all the
+radii were not equal.</p>
+
+<p>We must therefore acknowledge relations of justice antecedent to the
+positive law by which they are established: as for instance, that if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+human societies existed it would be right to conform to their laws; if
+there were intelligent beings that had received a benefit of another
+being, they ought to show their gratitude; if one intelligent being
+had created another intelligent being, the latter ought to continue in
+its original state of dependence; if one intelligent being injures
+another, it deserves a retaliation; and so on.</p>
+
+<p>But the intelligent world is far from being so well governed as the
+physical. For tho the former has also its laws, which of their own
+nature are invariable, it does not conform to them so exactly as the
+physical world. This is because, on the one hand, particular
+intelligent beings are of a finite nature, and consequently liable to
+error; and on the other, their nature requires them to be free agents.
+Hence they do not steadily conform to their primitive laws; and even,
+those of their own instituting they frequently infringe.</p>
+
+<p>Whether brutes be governed by the general laws of motion or by a
+particular movement we can not determine. Be that as it may, they have
+not a more intimate relation to God than the rest of the material
+world; and sensation is of no other use to them than in the relation
+they have either to other particular beings or to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>By the allurements of pleasure they preserve the individual, and by
+the same allurements they preserve their species. They have natural
+laws, because they are united by sensation; positive laws they have
+none, because they are not connected by knowledge. And yet they do not
+invariably conform to their natural laws; these are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> better observed
+by vegetables, that have neither understanding nor sense.</p>
+
+<p>Brutes are deprived of the high advantages which we have; but they
+have some which we have not. They have not our hopes, but they are
+without our fears; they are subject like us to death, but without
+knowing it; even most of them are more attentive than we to
+self-preservation, and do not make so bad a use of their passions.</p>
+
+<p>Man, as a physical being, is like other bodies, governed by invariable
+laws. As an intelligent being, he incessantly transgresses the laws
+established by God, and changes those of his own instituting. He is
+left to his private direction, tho a limited being, and subject, like
+all finite intelligences, to ignorance and error; even his imperfect
+knowledge he loses; and as a sensible creature, he is hurried away by
+a thousand impetuous passions. Such a being might every instant forget
+his Creator; God has therefore reminded him of his duty by the laws of
+religion. Such a being is liable every moment to forget himself;
+philosophy has provided against this by the laws of morality. Formed
+to live in society, he might forget his fellow creatures; legislators
+have therefore by political and civil laws confined him to his duty.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> From "The Spirit of Laws." The translation of Thomas
+Nugent was published in 1756.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRANCOIS_AROUET_VOLTAIRE" id="FRANCOIS_AROUET_VOLTAIRE"></a>FRAN&Ccedil;OIS AROUET VOLTAIRE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778; his original name
+Arouet; educated at the College of Louis-le-Grand; exiled
+because of his freedom of speech; twice imprisoned in the
+Bastille; resided in England in 1726-29; went to Prussia at
+the invitation of Frederick the Great in 1750, remaining
+three years, the friendship ending in bitter enmity; wrote
+in Prussia his "Le Si&egrave;cle de Louis XIV"; settled at Geneva
+in 1756, and two years later at Ferney, where he lived until
+his death in 1778; visited Paris in 1778, being received
+with great honors; his works very numerous, one edition
+comprizing seventy-two volumes.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_6" id="I_6"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF BACON'S GREATNESS<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Not long since the trite and frivolous question following was debated
+in a very polite and learned company, viz., Who was the greatest man,
+C&aelig;sar, Alexander, Tamerlane, Cromwell, etc.?</p>
+
+<p>Somebody answered that Sir Isaac Newton excelled them all. The
+gentleman's assertion was very just; for if true greatness consists in
+having received from heaven a mighty genius, and in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>having employed
+it to enlighten our own mind and that of others, a man like Sir Isaac
+Newton, whose equal is hardly found in a thousand years, is the truly
+great man. And those politicians and conquerors (and all ages produce
+some) were generally so many illustrious wicked men. That man claims
+our respect who commands over the minds of the rest of the world by
+the force of truth, not those who enslave their fellow creatures; he
+who is acquainted with the universe, not they who deface it.</p>
+
+<p>The most singular and the best of all his pieces is that which, at
+this time, is the most useless and the least read. I mean his "Novum
+Scientiarum Organum." This is the scaffold with which the new
+philosophy was raised; and when the edifice was built, part of it, at
+least the scaffold was no longer of service.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Bacon was not yet acquainted with nature, but then he knew, and
+pointed out the several paths that lead to it. He had despised in his
+younger years the thing called philosophy in the universities, and did
+all that lay in his power to prevent those societies of men instituted
+to improve human reason from depraving it by their quiddities, their
+horrors of the vacuum, their substantial forms, and all those
+impertinent terms which not only ignorance had rendered venerable, but
+which had been made sacred by their being ridiculously blended with
+religion.</p>
+
+<p>He is the father of experimental philosophy. It must, indeed, be
+confest that very surprizing secrets had been found out before his
+time&mdash;the sea compass, printing, engraving on copper plates, oil
+painting, looking-glasses; the art of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> restoring, in some measure, old
+men to their sight by spectacles; gunpowder, etc., had been
+discovered. A new world had been fought for, found, and conquered.
+Would not one suppose that these sublime discoveries had been made by
+the greatest philosophers, and in ages much more enlightened than the
+present? But it was far otherwise; all these great changes happened in
+the most stupid and barbarous times. Chance only gave birth to most of
+those inventions; and it is very probable that what is called chance
+contributed very much to the discovery of America; at least it has
+been always thought that Christopher Columbus undertook his voyage
+merely on the relation of a captain of a ship which a storm had driven
+as far westward as the Caribbean Island. Be this as it will, men had
+sailed round the world, and could destroy cities by an artificial
+thunder more dreadful than the real one; but, then, they were not
+acquainted with the circulation of the blood, the weight of the air,
+the laws of motions, light, the number of our planets, etc. And a man
+who maintained a thesis on Aristotle's "Categories," on the universals
+<i>a parte rei</i>, or such-like nonsense, was looked upon as a prodigy.</p>
+
+<p>The most astonishing, the most useful inventions, are not those which
+reflect the greatest honor on the human mind. It is to a mechanical
+instinct, which is found in many men, and not to true philosophy that
+most arts owe their origin.</p>
+
+<p>The discovery of fire, the art of making bread, of melting and
+preparing metals, of building houses, and the invention of the shuttle
+are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> infinitely more beneficial to mankind than printing or the sea
+compass; and yet these arts were invented by uncultivated, savage men.</p>
+
+<p>What a prodigious use the Greeks and Romans made afterward of
+mechanics! Nevertheless, they believed that there were crystal
+heavens, that the stars were small lamps which sometimes fell into the
+sea, and one of their greatest philosophers, after long researches,
+found that the stars were so many flints which had been detached from
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>In a word, no one before Lord Bacon was acquainted with experimental
+philosophy, nor with the several physical experiments which have been
+made since his time. Scarce one of them but is hinted at in his work,
+and he himself had made several. He made a kind of pneumatic engine,
+by which he guessed the elasticity of the air. He approached on all
+sides, as it were, to the discovery of its weight, and had very near
+attained it, but some time after Torricelli seized upon this truth. In
+a little time experimental philosophy began to be cultivated on a
+sudden in most parts of Europe. It was a hidden treasure which Lord
+Bacon had some notion of, and which all the philosophers, encouraged
+by his promises, endeavored to dig up.</p>
+
+<p>But that which surprized me most was to read in his work, in express
+terms, the new attraction, the invention of which is ascribed to Sir
+Isaac Newton.</p>
+
+<p>We must search, says Lord Bacon, whether there may not be a kind of
+magnetic power which operates between the earth and heavy bodies,
+between the moon and the ocean, between the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> planets, etc. In another
+place he says, either heavy bodies must be carried toward the center
+of the earth, or must be reciprocally attracted by it; and in the
+latter case it is evident that the nearer bodies in their falling,
+draw toward the earth, the stronger they will attract one another. We
+must, says he, make an experiment to see whether the same clock will
+go faster on the top of a mountain or at the bottom of a mine; whether
+the strength of the weights decreases on the mountain and increases in
+the mine. It is probable that the earth has a true attractive power.</p>
+
+<p>This forerunner in philosophy was also an elegant writer, a historian,
+and a wit.</p>
+
+<p>His moral essays are greatly esteemed, but they were drawn up in the
+view of instructing rather than of pleasing; and, as they are not a
+satire upon mankind, like Rochefoucauld's "Maxims," nor written upon a
+skeptical plan, like Montaigne's "Essays," they are not so much read
+as those two ingenious authors.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> From the "Letters on England." Voltaire's visit to
+England followed immediately upon his release from imprisonment in the
+Bastille. During the two years he spent there, he acquired an intimate
+knowledge of English life, and came to know most of the eminent
+Englishmen of the time.
+</p><p>
+An English version of Voltaire's writings, in thirty-five volumes, was
+published in 1761-69, with notes by Smollett and others. The "Letters
+from England" seem to have first appeared in English in 1734.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II_6" id="II_6"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>ENGLAND'S REGARD FOR MEN OF LETTERS<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Neither the English nor any other people have foundations established
+in favor of the polite arts like those in France. There are
+universities in most countries, but it is in France only that we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>meet
+with so beneficial an encouragement for astronomy and all parts of the
+mathematics, for physic, for researches into antiquity, for painting,
+sculpture, and architecture. Louis XIV has immortalized his name by
+these several foundations, and this immortality did not cost him two
+hundred thousand livres a year.</p>
+
+<p>I must confess that one of the things I very much wonder at is that as
+the Parliament of Great Britain have promised a reward of &pound;20,000 to
+any person who may discover the longitude, they should never have once
+thought to imitate Louis XIV in his munificence with regard to the
+arts and sciences.</p>
+
+<p>Merit, indeed, meets in England with rewards of another kind, which
+redound more to the honor of the nation. The English have so great a
+veneration for exalted talents, that a man of merit in their country
+is always sure of making his fortune. Mr. Addison in France would have
+been elected a member of one of the academies, and, by the credit of
+some women, might have obtained a yearly pension of twelve hundred
+livres, or else might have been imprisoned in the Bastille, upon
+pretense that certain strokes in his tragedy of Cato had been
+discovered which glanced at the porter of some man in power. Mr.
+Addison was raised to the post of Secretary of State in England. Sir
+Isaac Newton was made Master of the Royal Mint. Mr. Congreve had a
+considerable employment. Mr. Prior was Plenipotentiary. Dr. Swift is
+Dean of St. Patrick's in Dublin, and is more revered in Ireland than
+the Primate himself. The religion which Mr. Pope professes<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>excludes him, indeed, from preferments of every kind, but then it did
+not prevent his gaining two hundred thousand livres by his excellent
+translation of Homer. I myself saw a long time in France the author of
+"Rhadamistus"<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> ready to perish for hunger. And the son of one of
+the greatest men our country ever gave birth to, and who was beginning
+to run the noble career which his father had set him, would have been
+reduced to the extremes of misery had he not been patronized by
+Monsieur Fagon.</p>
+
+<p>But the circumstance which mostly encourages the arts in England is
+the great veneration which is paid them. The picture of the Prime
+Minister hangs over the chimney of his own closet, but I have seen
+that of Mr. Pope in twenty noblemen's houses. Sir Isaac Newton was
+revered in his lifetime, and had a due respect paid to him after his
+death,&mdash;the greatest men in the nation disputing who should have the
+honor of holding up his pall. Go into Westminster Abbey, and you will
+find that what raises the admiration of the spectator is not the
+mausoleums of the English kings, but the monuments which the gratitude
+of the nation has erected to perpetuate the memory of those
+illustrious men who contributed to its glory. We view their statues in
+that abbey in the same manner as those of Sophocles, Plato, and other
+immortal personages were viewed in Athens; and I am persuaded that the
+bare sight of those glorious monuments has fired more than one breast,
+and been the occasion of their becoming great men.</p>
+
+<p>The English have even been reproached with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>paying too extravagant
+honors to mere merit, and censured for interring the celebrated
+actress Mrs. Oldfield<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> in Westminster Abbey, with almost the same
+pomp as Sir Isaac Newton. Some pretend that the English had paid her
+these great funeral honors purposely to make us more strongly sensible
+of the barbarity and injustice which they object to in us, for having
+buried Mademoiselle Le Couvreur ignominiously in the fields.</p>
+
+<p>But be assured from me that the English were prompted by no other
+principle in burying Mrs. Oldfield in Westminster Abbey than their
+good sense. They are far from being so ridiculous as to brand with
+infamy an art which has immortalized a Euripides and a Sophocles; or
+to exclude from the body of their citizens a set of people whose
+business is to set off with the utmost grace of speech and action
+those pieces which the nation is proud of.</p>
+
+<p>Under the reign of Charles I and in the beginning of the civil wars
+raised by a number of rigid fanatics, who at last were the victims to
+it, a great many pieces were published against theatrical and other
+shows, which were attacked with the greater virulence because that
+monarch and his queen, daughter to Henry I of France, were
+passionately fond of them.</p>
+
+<p>One Mr. Prynne, a man of most furiously scrupulous principles, who
+would have thought himself damned had he worn a cassock instead of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>a
+short cloak, and have been glad to see one-half of mankind cut the
+other to pieces for the glory of God and the <i>Propaganda Fide</i>, took
+it into his head to write a most wretched satire against some pretty
+good comedies, which were exhibited very innocently every night before
+their majesties. He quoted the authority of the Rabbis, and some
+passages from St. Bonaventura, to prove that the "&OElig;dipus" of
+Sophocles was the work of the evil spirit; that Terence was
+excommunicated <i>ipso facto</i>; and added that doubtless Brutus, who was
+a very severe Jansenist, assassinated Julius C&aelig;sar for no other reason
+but because he, who was Pontifex Maximus, presumed to write a tragedy
+the subject of which was "&OElig;pidus." Lastly, he declared that all who
+frequented the theater were excommunicated, as they thereby renounced
+their baptism. This was casting the highest insult on the king and all
+the royal family; and as the English loved their prince at that time,
+they could not bear to hear a writer talk of excommunicating him, tho
+they themselves afterward cut his head off. Prynne was summoned to
+appear before the Star Chamber; his wonderful book, from which Father
+Lebrun stole his, was sentenced to be burned by the common hangman,
+and himself to lose his ears.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> His trial is now extant.</p>
+
+<p>The Italians are far from attempting to cast a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>blemish on the opera,
+or to excommunicate Sig&ntilde;or Senesino or Signora Cuzzoni. With regard to
+myself, I could presume to wish that the magistrates would suppress I
+know not what contemptible pieces written against the stage. For when
+the English and Italians hear that we brand with the greatest mark of
+infamy an art in which we excel; that we excommunicate persons who
+receive salaries from the king; that we condemn as impious a spectacle
+exhibited in convents and monasteries; that we dishonor sports in
+which Louis XIV and Louis XV performed as actors; that we give the
+title of the devil's works to pieces which are received by magistrates
+of the most severe character, and represented before a virtuous queen;
+when, I say, foreigners are told of this insolent conduct, this
+contempt for the royal authority, and this Gothic rusticity which some
+presume to call Christian severity, what idea must they entertain of
+our nation? And how will it be possible for them to conceive, either
+that our laws give a sanction to an art which is declared infamous, or
+that some persons dare to stamp with infamy an art which receives a
+sanction from the laws, is rewarded by kings, cultivated and
+encouraged by the greatest men, and admired by whole nations? And that
+Father Lebrun's impertinent libel against the stage is seen in a
+bookseller's shop, standing the very next to the immortal labors of
+Racine, of Corneille, of Moli&egrave;re, etc.?</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> From the "Letters on England."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Pope was a Catholic.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> "Rhadamiste et Z&eacute;nobia," a tragedy by Cr&eacute;billon (1711),
+who long suffered from neglect and want.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Anne, or "Nance" Oldfield was born in 1683, and died in
+1730. Her death occurred in the year which followed the close of
+Voltaire's English visit. At her funeral, the body lay in state in the
+Jerusalem Chamber of Westminster Abbey. She had a natural son, who
+married Lady Mary Walpole, a natural daughter of Sir Robert Walpole,
+the Prime Minister.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> William Prynne, lawyer, pamphleteer, and statesman, was
+born in 1600, and died in 1669. Prynne in 1648 was released from
+imprisonment by the Long Parliament and obtained a seat in the House
+of Commons where he took up the cause of the king. Later, in the
+Cromwellian period, he was arrested and again imprisoned, but was
+released in 1652, and, after the accession of Charles II, was made
+keeper of the records in the Tower.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JEAN_JACQUES_ROUSSEAU" id="JEAN_JACQUES_ROUSSEAU"></a>JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Geneva in 1712, died near Paris in 1778; his father
+a mender of watches and teacher of dancing; lived from hand
+to mouth until he was thirty-eight; achieved his first
+literary reputation from a prize competition in 1749;
+published "Le Devin du Village" in 1752, "La Nouvelle
+H&egrave;loise" in 1761, "Le Contrat Social" in 1762, "Emile" in
+1762; the latter work led to his exile from France for five
+years, during which he lived in Switzerland and England; his
+"Confessions" published after his death in 1782; was the
+father of five illegitimate children, each of whom he sent
+to a foundling asylum.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_7" id="I_7"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>OF CHRIST AND SOCRATES</h2>
+
+
+<p>I will confess that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with
+admiration, as the purity of the Gospel hath its influence on my
+heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers with all their pomp of
+diction; how mean, how contemptible are they compared with the
+Scriptures! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and sublime,
+should be merely the work of man? Is it possible that the sacred
+personage, whose history it contains, should be himself a mere man? Do
+we find that He assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious
+sectary? What sweetness, what purity in His manner! What an affecting
+gracefulness in His delivery! What sublimity in His maxims! what
+profound wisdom in His discourses? What presence of mind, what
+subtlety, what truth in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> His replies! How great the command over His
+passions! Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could so live,
+and so die, without weakness, and without ostentation? When Plato
+described his imaginary good man loaded with all the shame of guilt,
+yet meriting the highest rewards of virtue, he describes exactly the
+character of Jesus Christ: the resemblance was so striking that all
+the Fathers perceived it.</p>
+
+<p>What prepossession, what blindness must it be to compare the son of
+Sophronicus to the son of Mary! What an infinite disproportion there
+is between them! Socrates dying without pain or ignominy, easily
+supported his character to the last; and if his death, however easy,
+had not crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether Socrates,
+with all his wisdom, was anything more than a vain sophist. He
+invented, it is said, the theory of morals. Others, however, had
+before put them in practise; he had only to say, therefore, what they
+had done, and to reduce their examples to precepts. Aristides had been
+just before Socrates defined justice; Leonidas had given up his life
+for his country before Socrates declared patriotism to be a duty; the
+Spartans were a sober people before Socrates recommended sobriety;
+before he had even defined virtue Greece abounded in virtuous men.</p>
+
+<p>But where could Jesus learn, among His competitors, that pure and
+sublime morality, of which He only hath given us both precept and
+example? The greatest wisdom was made known amongst the most bigoted
+fanaticism, and the simplicity of the most heroic virtues did honor to
+the vilest people on earth. The death of Socrates, peaceably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+philosophizing with his friends, appears the most agreeable that could
+be wished for; that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing
+pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is the most
+horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of
+poison, blest, indeed, the weeping executioner who administered it;
+but Jesus, in the midst of excruciating torments, prayed for His
+merciless tormentors. Yes, if the life and death of Socrates were
+those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus are those of a God. Shall
+we suppose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed, my friend, it
+bears not the marks of fiction; on the contrary, the history of
+Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as
+that of Jesus Christ. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the
+difficulty without obviating it: it is more inconceivable that a
+number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one
+only should furnish the subject of it. The Jewish authors were
+incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality contained in
+the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so striking and inimitable
+that the inventor would be a more astonishing character than the
+hero.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_7" id="II_7"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>OF THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>I have thought that the most essential part in the education of
+children, and which is seldom regarded in the best families, is to
+make them sensible of their inability, weakness, and dependence, and,
+as my husband called it, the heavy yoke of that necessity which nature
+has imposed upon our species; and that, not only in order to show them
+how much is done to alleviate the burden of that yoke, but especially
+to instruct them betimes in what rank Providence has placed them, that
+they may not presume too far above themselves, or be ignorant of the
+reciprocal duties of humanity.</p>
+
+<p>Young people who from their cradle have been brought up in ease and
+effeminacy, who have been caressed by every one, indulged in all their
+caprices, and have been used to obtain easily everything they desired,
+enter upon the world with many impertinent prejudices; of which they
+are generally cured by frequent mortifications, affronts, and chagrin.
+Now, I would willingly spare my children this kind of education by
+giving them, at first, a just notion of things. I had indeed once
+resolved to indulge my eldest son in everything he wanted, from a
+persuasion that the first impulses of nature must be good <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>and
+salutary; but I was not long in discovering that children, conceiving
+from such treatment that they have a right to be obeyed, depart from a
+state of nature almost as soon as born&mdash;contracting our vices from our
+example, and theirs by our indiscretion. I saw that if I indulged him
+in all his humors they would only increase by such indulgence; that it
+was necessary to stop at some point, and that contradiction would be
+but the more mortifying as he should be less accustomed to it; but,
+that it might be less painful to him, I began to use it upon him by
+degrees, and in order to prevent his tears and lamentations I made
+every denial irrevocable.</p>
+
+<p>It is true, I contradict him as little as possible, and never without
+due consideration. Whatever is given or permitted him is done
+unconditionally and at the first instance; and in this we are
+indulgent enough; but he never gets anything by importunity, neither
+his tears nor entreaties being of any effect. Of this he is now so
+well convinced that he makes no use of them; he goes his way on the
+first word, and frets himself no more at seeing a box of sweetmeats
+taken away from him than at seeing a bird fly away which he would be
+glad to catch, there appearing to him the same impossibility of having
+the one as the other; and, so far from beating the chairs and tables,
+he dares not lift his hand against those who oppose him. In everything
+that displeases him he feels the weight of necessity, the effect of
+his own weakness.</p>
+
+<p>The great cause of the ill humor of children is the care which is
+taken either to quiet or to aggravate them. They will sometimes cry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
+for an hour for no other reason in the world than because they
+perceive we would not have them. So long as we take notice of their
+crying, so long have they a reason for continuing to cry; but they
+will soon give over of themselves when they see no notice is taken of
+them; for, old or young, nobody loves to throw away his trouble. This
+is exactly the case with my eldest boy, who was once the most peevish
+little bawler, stunning the whole house with his cries; whereas now
+you can hardly hear there is a child in the house. He cries, indeed,
+when he is in pain; but then it is the voice of nature, which should
+never be restrained; and he is again hushed as soon as ever the pain
+is over. For this reason I pay great attention to his tears, as I am
+certain he never sheds them for nothing; and hence I have gained the
+advantage of being certain when he is in pain and when not; when he is
+well and when sick; an advantage which is lost with those who cry out
+of mere humor and only in order to be appeased. I must confess,
+however, that this management is not to be expected from nurses and
+governesses; for as nothing is more tiresome than to hear a child cry,
+and as these good women think of nothing but the time present, they do
+not foresee that by quieting it to-day it will cry the more to-morrow.
+But, what is still worse, this indulgence produces an obstinacy which
+is of more consequence as the child grows up. The very cause that
+makes it a squaller at three years of age will make it stubborn and
+refractory at twelve, quarrelsome at twenty, imperious and insolent at
+thirty, and insupportable all its life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In every indulgence granted to children they can easily see our desire
+to please them, and therefore they should be taught to suppose we have
+reason for refusing or complying with their requests. This is another
+advantage gained by making use of authority, rather than persuasion,
+on every necessary occasion. For, as it is impossible they can be
+always blind to our motives, it is natural for them to imagine that we
+have some reason for contradicting them, of which, they are ignorant.
+On the contrary, when we have once submitted to their judgment, they
+will pretend to judge of everything, and thus become cunning,
+deceitful, fruitful in shifts and chicanery, endeavoring to silence
+those who are weak enough to argue with them; for when one is obliged
+to give them an account of things above their comprehension, they
+attribute the most prudent conduct to caprice, because they are
+incapable of understanding it. In a word, the only way to render
+children docile and capable of reasoning is not to reason with them at
+all, but to convince them that it is above their childish capacities;
+for they will always suppose the argument in their favor unless you
+can give them good cause to think otherwise. They know very well that
+we are unwilling to displease them, when they are certain of our
+affection; and children are seldom mistaken in this particular:
+therefore, if I deny anything to my children, I never reason with
+them, I never tell them why I do so and so; but I endeavor, as much as
+possible, that they should find it out, and that even after the affair
+is over. By these means they are accustomed to think that I never
+deny<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> them anything without a sufficient reason, tho they can not
+always see it.</p>
+
+<p>On the same principle it is that I never suffer my children to join in
+the conversation of grown people, or foolishly imagine themselves on
+an equality with them, because they are permitted to prattle. I would
+have them give a short and modest answer when they are spoken to, but
+never to speak of their own head, or ask impertinent questions of
+persons so much older than themselves, to whom they ought to show more
+respect....</p>
+
+<p>What can a child think of himself when he sees a circle of sensible
+people listening to, admiring, and waiting impatiently for his wit,
+and breaking out in raptures at every impertinent expression? Such
+false applause is enough to turn the head of a grown person; judge,
+then, what effect it must have upon that of a child. It is with the
+prattle of children as with the prediction in the almanac. It would be
+strange if, amidst such a number of idle words, chance did not now and
+then jumble some of them into sense. Imagine the effect which such
+flattering exclamations must have on a simple mother, already too much
+flattered by her own heart. Think not, however, that I am proof
+against this error because I expose it. No, I see the fault, and yet
+am guilty of it. But, if I sometimes admire the repartees of my son, I
+do it at least in secret. He will not learn to become a vain prater by
+hearing me applaud him, nor will flatterers have the pleasure, in
+making me repeat them, of laughing at my weakness.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> From the "New H&eacute;lo&iuml;se." The passage here given is from a
+letter supposed to have been written by a person who was visiting
+H&eacute;lo&iuml;se. One of the earliest English versions of the "New H&eacute;lo&iuml;se"
+appeared in 1784.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MADAME_DE_STAEL" id="MADAME_DE_STAEL"></a>MADAME DE STA&Euml;L</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in Paris, 1763, died there in 1817; daughter of Necker,
+the Minister of Finance, and Susanne Courchod, the
+sweetheart of Gibbon; married to the Baron of
+Sta&euml;l-Holstein, the Swedish ambassador to France, in 1786;
+lived in Germany in 1803-04; traveled in Italy in 1805;
+published "Corinne" in 1807; returned to Germany in 1808;
+and finished "De l'Allemagne," the first edition of which
+was destroyed, probably at the instigation of Napoleon, who
+became her bitter enemy; exiled from France by Napoleon in
+1812-14.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE" id="OF_NAPOLEON_BONAPARTE"></a>OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>General Bonaparte made himself as conspicuous by his character and his
+intellect as by his victories; and the imagination of the French began
+to be touched by him [1797]. His proclamations to the Cisalpine and
+Ligurian republics were talked of.... A tone of moderation and of
+dignity pervaded his style, which contrasted with the revolutionary
+harshness of the civil rulers of France. The warrior spoke in those
+days like a lawgiver, while the lawgivers exprest themselves with
+soldier-like violence. General Bonaparte had not executed in his army
+the decrees against the &eacute;migr&eacute;s. It was said that he loved his wife,
+whose character is full of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>sweetness; it was asserted that he felt
+the beauties of Ossian; it was a pleasure to attribute to him all the
+generous qualities that form a noble background for extraordinary
+abilities....</p>
+
+<p>Such at least was my own mood when I saw him for the first time in
+Paris. I could find no words with which to reply to him when he came
+to me to tell me that he had tried to visit my father at Coppet, and
+that he was sorry to have passed through Switzerland without seeing
+him. But when I had somewhat recovered from the agitation of
+admiration, it was followed by a feeling of very marked fear.
+Bonaparte then had no power: he was thought even to be more or less in
+danger from the vague suspiciousness of the Directory; so that the
+fear he inspired was caused only by the singular effect of his
+personality upon almost every one who had intercourse with him. I had
+seen men worthy of high respect; I had also seen ferocious men: there
+was nothing in the impression Bonaparte produced upon me which could
+remind me of men of either type. I soon perceived, on the different
+occasions when I met him during his stay in Paris, that his character
+could not be defined by the words we are accustomed to make use of: he
+was neither kindly nor violent, neither gentle nor cruel, after the
+fashion of other men. Such a being, so unlike others, could neither
+excite nor feel sympathy: he was more or less than man. His bearing,
+his mind, his language have the marks of a foreigner's nature&mdash;an
+advantage the more in subjugating Frenchmen....</p>
+
+<p>Far from being reassured by seeing Bonaparte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> often, he always
+intimidated me more and more. I felt vaguely that no emotional feeling
+could influence him. He regards a human creature as a fact or a thing,
+but not as an existence like his own. He feels no more hate than love.
+For him there is no one but himself: all other creatures are mere
+ciphers. The force of his will consists in the imperturbable
+calculations of his egotism: he is an able chess-player whose opponent
+is all humankind, whom he intends to checkmate. His success is due as
+much to the qualities he lacks as to the talents he possesses. Neither
+pity, nor sympathy, nor religion, nor attachment to any idea
+whatsoever would have power to turn him from his path. He has the same
+devotion to his own interests that a good man has to virtue: if the
+object were noble, his persistency would be admirable.</p>
+
+<p>Every time that I heard him talk I was struck by his superiority; it
+was of a kind, however, that had no relation to that of men instructed
+and cultivated by study, or by society, such as England and France
+possess examples of. But his conversation indicated that quick
+perception of circumstances the hunter has in pursuing his prey.
+Sometimes he related the political and military events of his life in
+a very interesting manner; he had even, in narratives that admitted
+gaiety, a touch of Italian imagination. Nothing, however, could
+conquer my invincible alienation from what I perceived in him. I saw
+in his soul a cold and cutting sword, which froze while wounding; I
+saw in his mind a profound irony, from which nothing fine or noble
+could escape not even his own glory: for he despised the nation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> whose
+suffrages he desired; and no spark of enthusiasm mingled with his
+craving to astonish the human race....</p>
+
+<p>His face, thin and pale at that time, was very agreeable: since then
+he has gained flesh&mdash;which does not become him; for one needs to
+believe such a man to be tormented by his own character, at all to
+tolerate the sufferings this character causes others. As his stature
+is short, and yet his waist very long, he appeared to much greater
+advantage on horseback than on foot; in all ways it is war, and war
+only, he is fitted for. His manner in society is constrained without
+being timid; it is disdainful when he is on his guard, and vulgar when
+he is at ease; his air of disdain suits him best, and so he is not
+sparing in the use of it. He took pleasure already in the part of
+embarrassing people by saying disagreeable things: an art which he has
+since made a system of, as of all other methods of subjugating men by
+degrading them.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> From "Considerations on the French Revolution." This
+work was not published until 1818, three years after the exile of
+Napoleon to St. Helena. An English translation appeared in 1819.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="VISCOUNT_DE_CHATEAUBRIAND" id="VISCOUNT_DE_CHATEAUBRIAND"></a>VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1768, died in 1848; entered the French
+army in 1786; traveled in America in 1791-92; emigrated to
+England, where in 1797 he published his "Essai Historique,
+Politique et Moral"; returned to France in 1800; converted
+to the Catholic faith through the death of his mother;
+published in 1802 "The Genius of Christianity"; made
+secretary of legation in Rome by Napoleon in 1803, and later
+minister to the republic of Valais, but resigned in 1804
+after the execution of the Duke of Enghien; supported the
+Bourbons in 1814; made a peer of France in 1815; ambassador
+to England in 1822; Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1823;
+published his "Memoirs" in 1849-50.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IN_AN_AMERICAN_FOREST" id="IN_AN_AMERICAN_FOREST"></a>IN AN AMERICAN FOREST<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>When, in my journeys among the Indian tribes of Canada, I left
+European dwellings, and found myself, for the first time, alone in the
+midst of an ocean of forests, having, so to speak, all nature
+prostrate at my feet, a strange change took place within me. In the
+kind of delirium which seized me, I followed no road; I went from tree
+to tree, now to the right, now to the left, saying to myself, "Here
+there are no more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>roads to follow, no more towns, no more narrow
+houses, no more presidents, republics, or kings&mdash;above all, no more
+laws, and no more men." Men! Yes, some good savages, who cared nothing
+for me, nor I for them; who, like me, wandered freely wherever their
+fancy led them, eating when they felt inclined, sleeping when and
+where they pleased. And, in order to see if I were really established
+in my original rights, I gave myself up to a thousand acts of
+eccentricity, which enraged the tall Dutchman who was my guide, and
+who, in his heart, thought I was mad.</p>
+
+<p>Escaped from the tyrannous yoke of society, I understood then the
+charms of that independence of nature which far surpasses all the
+pleasures of which civilized man can form any idea. I understood why
+not one savage has become a European, and why many Europeans have
+become savages; why the sublime "Discourse on the Inequality of Rank"
+is so little understood by the most part of our philosophers. It is
+incredible how small and diminished the nations and their most boasted
+institutions appeared in my eyes; it seemed to me as if I saw the
+kingdoms of the earth through an inverted spy-glass, or rather that,
+being myself grown and elevated, I looked down on the rest of my
+degenerate race with the eye of a giant.</p>
+
+<p>You who wish to write about men, go into the deserts, become for a
+moment the child of nature, and then&mdash;and then only&mdash;take up the pen.</p>
+
+<p>Among the innumerable enjoyments of this journey one especially made a
+vivid impression on my mind.</p>
+
+<p>I was going then to see the famous cataract<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> of Niagara, and I had
+taken my way through the Indian tribes who inhabit the deserts to the
+west of the American plantations. My guides were&mdash;the sun, a
+pocket-compass, and the Dutchman of whom I have spoken: the latter
+understood perfectly five dialects of the Huron language. Our train
+consisted of two horses, which we let loose in the forests at night,
+after fastening a bell to their necks. I was at first a little afraid
+of losing them, but my guide reassured me by pointing out that, by a
+wonderful instinct, these good animals never wandered out of sight of
+our fire.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, when, as we calculated that we were only about eight or
+nine leagues from the cataract, we were preparing to dismount before
+sunset, in order to build our hut and light our watch-fire after the
+Indian fashion, we perceived in the wood the fires of some savages who
+were encamped a little lower down on the shores of the same stream as
+we were. We went to them. The Dutchman having by my orders asked their
+permission for us to pass the night with them, which was granted
+immediately, we set to work with our hosts. After having cut down some
+branches, planted some stakes, torn off some bark to cover our palace,
+and performed some other public offices, each of us attended to his
+own affairs. I brought my saddle, which served me well for a pillow
+all through my travels; the guide rubbed down the horses; and as to
+his night accommodation, since he was not so particular as I am, he
+generally made use of the dry trunk of a tree. Work being done, we
+seated ourselves in a circle, with our legs crossed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> like tailors,
+around the immense fire, to roast our heads of maize, and to prepare
+supper. I had still a flask of brandy, which served to enliven our
+savages not a little. They found out that they had some bear hams, and
+we began a royal feast.</p>
+
+<p>The family consisted of two women, with infants at their breasts, and
+three warriors; two of them might be from forty to forty-five years of
+age, altho they appeared much older, and the third was a young man.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation soon became general; that is to say, on my side it
+consisted of broken words and many gestures&mdash;an expressive language,
+which these nations understand remarkably well, and that I had learned
+among them. The young man alone preserved an obstinate silence; he
+kept his eyes constantly fixt on me. In spite of the black, red, and
+blue stripes, cut ears, and the pearl hanging from his nose, with
+which he was disfigured, it was easy to see the nobility and
+sensibility which animated his countenance. How well I knew he was
+inclined not to love me! It seemed to me as if he were reading in his
+heart the history of all the wrongs which Europeans have inflicted on
+his native country. The two children, quite naked, were asleep at our
+feet before the fire; the women took them quietly into their arms and
+put them to bed among the skins, with a mother's tenderness so
+delightful to witness in these so-called savages: the conversation
+died away by degrees, and each fell asleep in the place where he was.</p>
+
+<p>I alone could not close my eyes, hearing on all sides the deep
+breathing of my hosts. I raised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> my head, and, supporting myself on my
+elbow, watched by the red light of the expiring fire the Indians
+stretched around me and plunged in sleep. I confess that I could
+hardly refrain from tears. Brave youth, how your peaceful sleep
+affects me! You, who seemed so sensible of the woes of your native
+land, you were too great, too high-minded to mistrust the foreigner!
+Europeans, what a lesson for you! These same savages whom we have
+pursued with fire and sword, to whom our avarice would not leave a
+spadeful of earth to cover their corpses in all this world, formerly
+their vast patrimony&mdash;these same savages receiving their enemy into
+their hospitable hut, sharing with him their miserable meal, and,
+their couch undisturbed by remorse, sleeping close to him the calm
+sleep of the innocent. These virtues are as much above the virtues of
+conventional life as the soul of tho man in his natural state is above
+that of the man in society.</p>
+
+<p>It was moonlight. Feverish with thinking, I got up and seated myself
+at a little distance on a root which ran along the edge of the
+streamlet: it was one of those American nights which the pencil of man
+can never represent, and the remembrance of which I have a hundred
+times recalled with delight.</p>
+
+<p>The moon was at the highest point of the heavens; here and there at
+wide, clear intervals twinkled a thousand stars. Sometimes the moon
+rested on a group of clouds which looked like the summit of high
+mountains crowned with snow: little by little these clouds grew
+longer, and rolled out into transparent and waving zones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> of white
+satin, or transformed themselves into light flakes of froth, into
+innumerable wandering flocks in the blue plains of the firmament.
+Another time the arch of heaven seemed changed into a shore on which
+one could discover horizontal rows, parallel lines such as are made by
+the regular ebb and flow of the sea; a gust of wind tore this veil
+again, and everywhere appeared in the sky great banks of dazzlingly
+white down, so soft to the eye that one seemed to feel their softness
+and elasticity. The scene on the earth was not less delightful: the
+silvery and velvety light of the moon floated silently over the top of
+the forests, and at intervals went down among the trees, casting rays
+of light even through the deepest shadows. The narrow brook which
+flowed at my feet, burying itself from time to time among the thickets
+of oak-, willow-, and sugar-trees, and reappearing a little farther
+off in the glades, all sparkling with the constellations of the night,
+seemed like a ribbon of azure silk spotted with diamond stars and
+striped with black bands. On the other side of the river, in a wide,
+natural meadow, the moonlight rested quietly on the pastures, where it
+was spread out like a sheet. Some birch-trees scattered here and there
+over the savannas, sometimes blending, according to the caprice of the
+winds, with the background, seemed to surround themselves with a pale
+gauze&mdash;sometimes rising up again from their chalky foundations, hidden
+in the darkness, formed, as it were, islands of floating shadows on an
+immovable sea of light. Near all was silence and repose, except the
+falling of the leaves, the rough passing of a sudden wind,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> the rare
+and interrupted whooping of the gray owl; but in the distance at
+intervals one heard the solemn rolling of the cataract of Niagara,
+which in the calm of the night echoed from desert to desert and died
+away in solitary forests.</p>
+
+<p>The grandeur, the astonishing melancholy of this picture can not be
+exprest in human language: the most beautiful nights in Europe can
+give no idea of it. In the midst of our cultivated fields the
+imagination vainly seeks to expand itself; everywhere it meets with
+the dwellings of man; but in these desert countries the soul delights
+in penetrating and losing itself in these eternal forests; it loves to
+wander by the light of the moon on the borders of immense lakes, to
+hover over the roaring gulf of terrible cataracts, to fall with the
+masses of water, and, so to speak, mix and blend itself with a sublime
+and savage nature. These enjoyments are too keen; such is our weakness
+that exquisite pleasures become griefs, as if nature feared that we
+should forget that we are men. Absorbed in my existence, or rather
+drawn quite out of myself, having neither feeling nor distinct
+thought, but an indescribable I know not what, which was like that
+happiness which they say we shall enjoy in the other life, I was all
+at once recalled to this. I felt unwell, and perceived that I must not
+linger. I returned to our encampment, where, lying down by the
+savages, I soon fell into a deep sleep.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> From the "Essay on Revolutions." While in America,
+Chateaubriand visited Canada, traveling inland through the United
+States from Niagara to Florida. He arrived home in Paris at the time
+of the execution of Louis XVI. His "Essay on Revolutions" was
+published five years later.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRANCOIS_GUIZOT" id="FRANCOIS_GUIZOT"></a>FRAN&Ccedil;OIS GUIZOT</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1787, died in 1874; became a professor of
+literature in 1812, and later of modern history at the
+Sorbonne; published his "History of Civilization" in
+1828-1830; elected to the Chamber of Deputies in 1830;
+Minister of the Interior, 1830; Ambassador to England, in
+1840; returning, entered the Cabinet where he remained until
+1848, being at one time Prime Minister; after 1848 went into
+retirement and published books frequently until his death.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SHAKESPEARE_AS_AN_EXAMPLE_OF_CIVILIZATION" id="SHAKESPEARE_AS_AN_EXAMPLE_OF_CIVILIZATION"></a>SHAKESPEARE AS AN EXAMPLE OF CIVILIZATION<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Voltaire was the first person in France who spoke of Shakespeare's
+genius;<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> and altho he spoke of him merely as a barbarian genius,
+the French public were of opinion that Voltaire had said too much in
+his favor. Indeed, they thought it nothing less than profanation to
+apply the words "genius" and "glory" to dramas which they considered
+as crude as they were coarse.</p>
+
+<p>At the present day all controversy regarding Shakespeare's genius and
+glory has come to an end. No one ventures any longer to dispute them;
+but a greater question has arisen&mdash;namely, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>whether Shakespeare's
+dramatic system is not far superior to that of Voltaire. This question
+I do not presume to decide. I merely say that it is now open for
+discussion. We have been led to it by the onward progress of ideas. I
+shall endeavor to point out the causes which have brought it about;
+but at present I insist merely upon the fact itself, and deduce from
+it one simple consequence, that literary criticism has changed its
+ground, and can no longer remain restricted to the limits within which
+it was formerly confined.</p>
+
+<p>Literature does not escape from the revolutions of the human mind; it
+is compelled to follow it in its course, to transport itself beneath
+the horizon under which it is conveyed, to gain elevation and
+extension with the ideas which occupy its notice, and to consider the
+questions which it discusses under the new aspects and novel
+circumstances in which they are placed by the new state of thought and
+of society....</p>
+
+<p>When we embrace human destiny in all its aspects, and human nature in
+all the conditions of man upon earth, we enter into possession of an
+exhaustless treasure. It is the peculiar advantage of such a system
+that it escapes, by its extent, from the dominion of any particular
+genius. We may discover its principles in Shakespeare's works; but he
+was not fully acquainted with them, nor did he always respect them. He
+should serve as an example, not as a model. Some men, even of superior
+talent, have attempted to write plays according to Shakespeare's
+taste, without perceiving that they were deficient in one important
+qualification for the task;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> and that was to write as he did, to write
+them for our age just as Shakespeare's plays were written for the age
+in which he lived. This is an enterprise the difficulties of which
+have, hitherto, perhaps, been maturely considered by no one.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen how much art and effort were employed by Shakespeare to
+surmount those which are inherent in his system. They are still
+greater in our times, and would unveil themselves much more completely
+to the spirit of criticism which now accompanies the boldest essays of
+genius. It is not only with spectators of more fastidious taste and of
+more idle and inattentive imagination that the poet would have to do
+who should venture to follow in Shakespeare's footsteps. He would be
+called upon to give movement to personages embarrassed in much more
+complicated interests, preoccupied with much more various feelings,
+and subject to less simple habits of mind and to less decided
+tendencies. Neither science, nor reflection, nor the scruples of
+conscience, nor the uncertainties of thought frequently encumber
+Shakespeare's heroes; doubt is of little use among them, and the
+violence of their passions speedily transfers their belief to the side
+of the desires, or sets their actions above their belief. Hamlet alone
+presents the confused spectacle of a mind formed by the enlightenment
+of society in conflict with a position contrary to its laws; and he
+needs a supernatural apparition to determine him to act, and a
+fortuitous event to accomplish his project. If incessantly placed in
+an analogous position, the personages of a tragedy conceived at the
+present day according to the romantic system would offer us the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+picture of indecision. Ideas now crowd and intersect each other in the
+mind of man, duties multiply in his conscience and obstacles and bonds
+around his life. Instead of those electric brains, prompt to
+communicate the spark which they have received; instead of those
+ardent and simple-minded men, whose projects like Macbeth's "will to
+hand"&mdash;the world now presents to the poet minds like Hamlet's, deep in
+the observation of those inward conflicts which our classical system
+has derived from a state of society more advanced than that of the
+time in which Shakespeare lived. So many feelings, interests, and
+ideas, the necessary consequences of modern civilization, might become
+even in their simplest form of expression a troublesome burden, which
+it would be difficult to carry through the rapid evolutions and bold
+advances of the romantic system.</p>
+
+<p>We must, however, satisfy every demand; success itself requires it.
+The reason must be contented at the same time that the imagination is
+occupied. The progress of taste, of enlightenment, of society, and of
+mankind, must serve not to diminish or disturb our enjoyment, but to
+render them worthy of ourselves and capable of supplying the new wants
+which we have contracted. Advance without rule and art in the romantic
+system, and you will produce melodramas calculated to excite a passing
+emotion in the multitude, but in the multitude alone, and for a few
+days; just as by dragging along without originality in the classical
+system you will satisfy only that cold literary class who are
+acquainted with nothing in nature which is more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> important than the
+interests of versification, or more imposing than the three unities.
+This is not the work of the poet who is called to power and destined
+for glory: he acts upon a grander scale, and can address the superior
+intellects as well as the general and simple faculties of all men. It
+is doubtless necessary that the crowd should throng to behold those
+dramatic works of which you desire to make a national spectacle; but
+do not hope to become national, if you do not unite in your
+festivities all those classes of persons and minds whose well-arranged
+hierarchy raises a nation to its loftiest dignity. Genius is bound to
+follow human nature in all its developments; its strength consists in
+finding within itself the means for constantly satisfying the whole of
+the public. The same task is now imposed upon government and upon
+poetry: both should exist for all, and suffice at once for the wants
+of the masses and for the requirements of the most exalted minds.</p>
+
+<p>Doubtless stopt in its course by these conditions, the full severity
+of which will only be revealed to the talent that can comply with
+them, dramatic art, even in England, where under the protection of
+Shakespeare it would have liberty to attempt anything, scarcely
+ventures at the present day even to try timidly to follow him.
+Meanwhile England, France, and the whole of Europe demand of the drama
+pleasures and emotions that can no longer be supplied by the inanimate
+representation of a world that has ceased to exist. The classical
+system had its origin in the life of its time: that time has passed;
+its image subsists in brilliant colors in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> its works, but can no more
+be reproduced. Near the monuments of past ages, the monuments of
+another age are now beginning to arise. What will be their form? I can
+not tell; but the ground upon which their foundations may rest is
+already perceptible.</p>
+
+<p>This ground is not the ground of Corneille and Racine, nor is it that
+of Shakespeare; it is our own; but Shakespeare's system, as it appears
+to me, may furnish the plans according to which genius ought now to
+work. This system alone includes all those social conditions and all
+those general or diverse feelings, the simultaneous conjunction and
+activity of which constitute for us at the present day the spectacle
+of human things. Witnesses during thirty years of the greatest
+revolutions of society, we shall no longer willingly confine the
+movement of our mind within the narrow space of some family event, or
+the agitations of a purely individual passion. The nature and destiny
+of man have appeared to us under their most striking and their
+simplest aspect, in all their extent and in all their variableness. We
+require pictures in which this spectacle is reproduced, in which man
+is displayed in his completeness and excites our entire sympathy.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> From "Shakespeare and His Times."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Voltaire's references to Shakespeare were made in his
+"Letters on England." From them dates the beginning of French interest
+in the English poet.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ALPHONSE_DE_LAMARTINE" id="ALPHONSE_DE_LAMARTINE"></a>ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1790, died in 1869; famous chiefly as a poet, being
+one of the greatest in modern France, but successful as an
+orator and prominent in political life during the troubled
+period of 1848, when he was Minister of Foreign Affairs;
+author of several historical works, among them the "History
+of the Girondists."</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_MIRABEAUS_ORIGIN_AND_PLACE_IN_HISTORY" id="OF_MIRABEAUS_ORIGIN_AND_PLACE_IN_HISTORY"></a>OF MIRABEAU'S ORIGIN AND PLACE IN HISTORY<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>He was born a gentleman and of ancient lineage, refugees established
+in Provence, but of Italian origin. The progenitors were Tuscan. The
+family was one of those whom Florence had cast from her bosom in the
+stormy excesses of her liberty, and for which Dante reproaches his
+country in such bitter strains for her exiles and prosecutions. The
+blood of Machiavelli and the earthquake genius of the Italian
+republics were characteristics of all the individuals of this race.
+The proportions of their souls exceed the height of their destiny:
+vices, passions, virtues are all in excess. The women are all angelic
+or perverse, the men sublime or depraved, and their language even is
+as emphatic and lofty as their aspirations. There is in their most
+familiar correspondence the color and tone of the heroic tongues of
+Italy.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
+<p>The ancestors of Mirabeau speak of their domestic affairs as Plutarch
+of the quarrels of Marius and Sulla, of C&aelig;sar and Pompey. We perceive
+the great men descending to trifling matters. Mirabeau inspired this
+domestic majesty and virility in his very cradle. I dwell on these
+details, which may seem foreign to this history, but they explain it.
+The source of genius is often in ancestry, and the blood of descent is
+sometimes the prophecy of destiny.</p>
+
+<p>Mirabeau's education was as rough and rude as the hand of his father,
+who was styled the friend of man, but whose restless spirit and
+selfish vanity rendered him the persecutor of his wife and the tyrant
+of all his family. The only virtue he was taught was honor, for by
+that name in those days they dignified that ceremonious demeanor which
+was too frequently only the show of probity and the elegance of vice.
+Entering the army at an early age, he acquired nothing of military
+habits except a love of licentiousness and play. The hand of his
+father was constantly extended not to aid him in rising, but to
+depress him still lower under the consequences of his errors. His
+youth was passed in the prisons of the state, where his passions,
+becoming envenomed by solitude, and his intellect rendered more acute
+by contact with the irons of his dungeon, his mind lost that modesty
+which rarely survives the infamy of precocious punishments.</p>
+
+<p>Released from jail, in order, by his father's command, to attempt to
+form a marriage beset with difficulties with Mademoiselle de Marignan,
+a rich heiress of one of the greatest families of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> Provence, he
+displayed, like a wrestler, all kinds of stratagems and daring schemes
+of policy in the small theater of Aix. Not only cunning, seduction,
+and courage, but every resource of his nature was used to succeed, and
+he succeeded; but he was hardly married before fresh persecutions
+beset him, and the stronghold of Pontarlier gaped to enclose him. A
+love, which his "Lettres &agrave; Sophie" has rendered immortal, opened its
+gates and freed him. He carried off Madame de Monier from her aged
+husband. The lovers, happy for some months, took refuge in Holland;
+they were seized there, separated and shut up, the one in a convent
+and the other in the dungeon of Vincennes.</p>
+
+<p>Love, which, like fire in the veins of the earth, is always detected
+in some crevice of man's destiny, lighted up in a single and ardent
+blaze all the passions of Mirabeau. In his vengeance it was outraged
+love that he appeased; in liberty it was love which he sought and
+which delivered him; in study it was love which still illustrated his
+path. Entering his cell an obscure man, he quitted it a writer,
+orator, statesman, but perverted&mdash;ripe for anything, even ready to
+sell himself, in order to buy fortune and celebrity. The drama of life
+had been conceived in his head; he wanted only the stage, and that was
+being prepared for him by time. During the few short years which
+elapsed between his leaving the keep of Vincennes and the tribune of
+the National Assembly, he employed himself with polemic labors which
+would have weighed down another man, but which only kept Mirabeau in
+health. Such topics as the bank of Saint Charles,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> the institutions of
+Holland, the books on Prussia, with Beaumarchais (his style and
+character), with lengthened pleadings on questions of warfare, the
+balance of European power, finance, leading to biting invectives and
+wars of words with the ministers of the hour, made scenes that
+resembled those in the Roman forum of the days of Clodius and Cicero.
+We discern the men of antiquity even in his most modern controversies.
+We may hear the first roarings or popular tumults which were so soon
+to burst forth, and which his voice was destined to control.</p>
+
+<p>At the first election of Aix, when rejected with contempt by the
+noblesse, he cast himself into the arms of the people, certain of
+making the balance incline to the side on which he should cast the
+weight of his daring and his genius. Marseilles contended with Aix for
+the great plebeian; his two elections, the discourses he then
+delivered, the addresses he drew up, the energy he employed commanded
+the attention of all France. His sonorous phrases became the proverbs
+of the Revolution. Comparing himself, in his lofty language, to the
+men of antiquity, he placed himself already in the public estimation
+in the elevated position he aspired to reach. Men became accustomed to
+identify him with the names he cited; he made a loud noise in order to
+prepare minds for great commotions; he announced himself proudly to
+the nation, in that sublime apostrophe in his address to the
+Marseillais: "When the last of the Gracchi expired, he flung dust
+toward heaven, and from this dust sprang Marius!&mdash;Marius, who was less
+great for having exterminated the Cimbri than for having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> prostrated
+in Rome the aristocracy of the nobility."</p>
+
+<p>From the moment of his entry into the National Assembly Mirabeau
+filled it: he became the whole people. His gestures were commands; his
+movements <i>coups d'etat</i>. He placed himself on a level with the
+throne, and the nobility itself felt itself subdued by a power
+emanating from its own body. The clergy, and the people, with their
+desires to reconcile democracy with the church, lent him their
+influence, in order to destroy the double aristocracy of the nobility
+and bishops.</p>
+
+<p>All that had been built by antiquity and cemented by ages fell in a
+few months. Mirabeau alone preserved his presence of mind in the midst
+of ruin. His character of tribune then ceased, that of the statesman
+began, and in this part he was even greater than in the other. There,
+when all else crept and crawled, he acted with firmness, advancing
+boldly. The Revolution in his brain was no longer a momentary idea&mdash;it
+became a settled plan. The philosophy of the eighteenth century,
+moderated by the prudence of policy, flowed easily from his lips. His
+eloquence, imperative as the law, was now a talent for giving force to
+reason. His language lighted and inspired everything; and tho almost
+alone at this moment, he had the courage to remain alone. He braved
+envy, hatred, murmurs, supported as he was by a strong feeling of his
+superiority. He dismissed with disdain the passions which had hitherto
+beset him. He would no longer serve them when his cause no longer
+needed them. He spoke to men now only in the name of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> genius, a
+title which was enough to cause obedience to him....</p>
+
+<p>The characteristic of his genius, so well defined, so ill understood,
+was less audacity than justness. Beneath the grandeur of his
+expression was always to be found unfailing good sense. His very vices
+could not repress the clearness, the sincerity of his understanding.
+At the foot of the tribune, he was a man devoid of shame or virtue: in
+the tribune, he was an honest man. Abandoned to private debauchery,
+bought over by foreign powers, sold to the court in order to satisfy
+his lavish expenditures, he preserved, amidst all this infamous
+traffic of his powers, the incorruptibility of his genius. Of all the
+qualities of being the great man of an age, Mirabeau was wanting only
+in honesty. The people were not his devotees, but his instruments. His
+faith was in posterity. His conscience existed only in his thought.
+The fanaticism of his ideas was quite human. The chilling materialism
+of his age had crusht in his heart all expansive force, and craving
+for imperishable things. His dying words were: "Sprinkle me with
+perfumes, crown me with flowers, that I may thus enter upon eternal
+sleep." He was especially of his time, and his course bears no impress
+of infinity. Neither his character, his acts, nor his thoughts have
+the brand of immortality. If he had believed, in God, he might have
+died a martyr.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> From Book I of the "History of the Girondists"&mdash;the
+translation of R. T. Ryde in Bonn's Library, as revised for this
+collection.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LOUIS_ADOLPHE_THIERS" id="LOUIS_ADOLPHE_THIERS"></a>LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1797, died in 1877; settled in Paris in 1821;
+published his "History of the French Revolution" in 1823-27;
+established with Mignet and others the <i>National</i> in 1830,
+in which he contributed largely to the overthrow of the
+Bourbons; supported Louis Philippe; became a member of
+various cabinets, 1832-36; Premier in 1836 and 1840;
+published his "Consulate and Empire" in 1845-62; arrested by
+Louis Napoleon in 1851; led the opposition to the Empire in
+1863; protested against the war of 1870; conducted the
+negotiations with Germany for an armistice; chosen chief of
+the executive power in 1871; negotiated the peace with
+Germany; supprest the Commune; elected President in 1871,
+resigning in 1873.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_BURNING_OF_MOSCOW" id="THE_BURNING_OF_MOSCOW"></a>THE BURNING OF MOSCOW<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>At last, having reached the summit of a hill, the army suddenly
+discovered below them, and at no great distance, an immense city
+shining with a thousand colors, surmounted by a host of gilded domes,
+resplendent with light; a singular mixture of woods, lakes, cottages,
+palaces, churches, bell-towers, a town both Gothic and Byzantine,
+realizing all that the Eastern stories relate of the marvels of Asia.
+While the monasteries, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>flanked with towers, formed the girdle of this
+great city, in the center, raised on an eminence, was a strong
+citadel, a kind of capitol, whence were seen at the same time the
+temples of the Deity and the palaces of the emperors, where above
+embattled walls rose majestic domes, bearing the emblem that
+represents the whole history of Russia and her ambition, the cross
+over the reversed crescent. This citadel was the Kremlin, the ancient
+abode of the Czars.</p>
+
+<p>The imagination, and the idea of glory, being both excited by this
+magical spectacle, the soldiers raised one shout of "Moscow! Moscow!"
+Those who had remained at the foot of the hill hastened to reach the
+top; for a moment all ranks mingled, and everybody wished to
+contemplate the great capital, toward which we had made such an
+adventurous march. One could not have enough of this dazzling
+spectacle, calculated to awaken so many different feelings. Napoleon
+arrived in his turn, and, struck with what he saw, he&mdash;who, like the
+oldest soldiers in the army, had successively visited Cairo, Memphis,
+the Jordan, Milan, Vienna, Berlin, and Madrid&mdash;could not help
+experiencing deep emotion.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at this summit of his glory, from which he was to descend with
+such a rapid step toward the abyss, he experienced a sort of
+intoxication, forgot all the reproaches that his good sense, the only
+conscience of conquerors, had addrest to him for two months, and for a
+moment believed still that his enterprise was a great and marvelous
+one&mdash;that to have dared to march from Paris to Smolensk, from Smolensk
+to Moscow, was a great and happy rashness, justified<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> by the event.
+Certain of his glory, he still believed in his good fortune, and his
+lieutenants, as amazed as he, remembering no more their frequent
+discontents during this campaign, gave vent to those victorious
+demonstrations in which they had not indulged at the termination of
+the bloody day of Borodino. This moment of satisfaction, lively and
+short, was one of the most deeply felt in his life. Alas! it was to be
+the last!</p>
+
+<p>Murat received the injunction to march quickly, to avoid all disorder.
+General Durosnel was sent forward to hold communication with the
+authorities, and lead them to the conqueror's feet, who desired to
+receive their homage and calm their fears. M. Denni&eacute;e was charged to
+go and prepare food and lodging for the army, Murat, galloping at the
+head of the light cavalry, arrived, at length, across the faubourg of
+Drogomilow, at the bridge of the Moskowa. There he found a Russian
+rear-guard, who were retreating, and inquired if there was no officer
+there who knew French. A young Russian, who spoke our language
+correctly, presented himself immediately before this king, whom
+hostile nations knew so well, and asked what he wanted. Murat having
+exprest a wish to know which was the commander of this rear-guard, the
+young Russian pointed out an officer with white hair, clothed in a
+bivouac cloak of long fur. Murat, with his accustomed grace, held out
+his hand to the old officer, who took it eagerly. Thus national hatred
+was silenced before valor.</p>
+
+<p>Murat asked the commander of the enemy's rear-guard if they knew him.
+"Yes," replied the latter, "we have seen enough of you under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> fire to
+know you." Murat seeming struck with, the long fur mantle, which
+looked as if it would be very comfortable for a bivouac, the old
+officer unfastened it from his shoulders to make him a present of it.
+Murat, receiving it with as much courtesy as it was offered, took a
+beautiful watch and presented it to the enemy's officer, who received
+this present in the same way as his had been accepted. After these
+acts of courtesy, the Russian rear-guard filed off rapidly to give
+ground to our vanguard. The King of Naples, followed by his staff and
+a detachment of cavalry, went down into the streets of Moscow,
+traversed alternately the poorest and the richest quarters, rows of
+wooden houses crowded together, and a succession of splendid palaces
+rising from amidst vast gardens: he found everywhere the most profound
+silence. It seemed as if they were penetrating into a dead city, whose
+inhabitants had suddenly disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>The first sight of it, surprizing as it was, did not remind us of our
+entry into Berlin or Vienna, Nevertheless, the first feeling of terror
+experienced by the inhabitants might explain this solitude. Suddenly
+some distracted individuals appeared; they were some French people,
+belonging to the foreign families settled at Moscow, and asked us in
+the name of heaven to save them from the robbers who had become
+masters of the town. They were well received, but we tried in vain to
+remove their fears. We were conducted to the Kremlin,<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> and had
+hardly arrived in sight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>of these old walls than we were exposed to a
+discharge of shot. It came from bandits let loose on Moscow by the
+ferocious patriotism of the Count of Rostopchin. These wretched beings
+had invaded the sacred citadel, had seized the guns in the arsenal,
+and were firing on the French who came to disturb them after their few
+hours' reign of anarchy. Several were sabered, and the Kremlin was
+relieved of their presence. But on making inquiry we learned that the
+whole population had fled, except a small number of strangers, or of
+Russians acquainted with the ways of the French and not fearing their
+presence. This news vexed the leaders of our vanguard, who were
+flattering themselves that they would see a whole population coming
+before them, whom they would take pleasure in comforting and filling
+with surprize and gratitude. They made haste to restore some order to
+the different quarters of the town, and to pursue the thieves, who
+thought they should much longer enjoy the prey that the Count of
+Rostopchin had given up to them.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, September 15, Napoleon made his entry into Moscow,
+at the head of his invincible legions, but he crossed a deserted town,
+and for the first time his soldiers, on entering a capital, found none
+but themselves to be witnesses of their glory. The impression that
+they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>experienced was sad. Napoleon, arrived at the Kremlin, hastened
+to mount the high tower of the great Ivan, and to contemplate from
+that height his magnificent conquest, across which the Moskowa was
+slowly pursuing its winding course. Thousands of blackbirds, ravens
+and crows, as numerous here as the pigeons at Venice, flying around
+the tops of the palaces and churches, gave a singular aspect to this
+great city, which contrasted strangely with the brightness of its
+brilliant colors. A mournful silence, disturbed only by the tramp of
+cavalry, had taken the place of life in this city, which till the
+evening before had been one of the most busy in the world. In spite of
+the sadness of this solitude, Napoleon, on finding Moscow abandoned
+like the other Russian towns, thought himself happy nevertheless in
+not finding it burned up, and did not despair of softening little by
+little the hatred which the presence of his flags had inspired since
+Vitebsk.</p>
+
+<p>The army hoped, then, to enjoy Moscow, to find peace there, and, in
+any case, good winter cantonments if the war was prolonged. However,
+on the morrow after the day on which the entry had been made, columns
+of flame arose from a very large building which contained the spirits
+that the government sold on its own account to the people of the
+capital. People ran there, without astonishment or terror, for they
+attributed the cause of this partial fire to the nature of the
+materials contained in this building, or to some imprudence committed
+by our soldiers. In fact, the fire was mastered, and we had time to
+reassure ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>But all at once the fire burst out at almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> the same instant with
+extreme violence in a collection of buildings that was called the
+Bazaar. This bazaar, situated to the northeast of the Kremlin
+comprized the richest shops, those in which were sold the beautiful
+stuffs of India and Persia, the rarities of Europe, the colonial
+commodities, sugar, coffee, tea, and, lastly, precious wines. In a few
+minutes the fire had spread through the bazaar, and the soldiers of
+the guard ran in crowds and made the greatest efforts to arrest its
+progress. Unhappily, they could not succeed, and soon the immense
+riches of this establishment fell a prey to the flames. Eager to
+dispute with the fire the possession of these riches, belonging to no
+one at this time, and to secure them for themselves, our soldiers, not
+having been able to save them, tried to drag out some fragments.</p>
+
+<p>They might be seen coming out of the bazaar, carrying furs, silks,
+wines of great value, without any one dreaming of reproaching them for
+so doing, for they wronged no one but the fire, the sole master of
+these treasures. One might regret it on the score of discipline, but
+could not cast a reproach on their honor on that account. Besides,
+those who remained of the people set them an example, and took their
+large share of these spoils of the commerce of Moscow. Yet it was only
+one large building&mdash;an extremely rich one, it is true&mdash;that was
+attacked by the fire, and there was no fear for the town itself. These
+first disasters, of little consequence so far, were attributed to a
+very natural and very ordinary accident, which might be more easily
+explained still, in the bustle of evacuating the town.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>During the night of the 15th of September the scene suddenly changed.
+As if every misfortune was to fall at once on the old Muscovite
+capital, the equinoctial wind arose all at once with the double
+violence natural to the season and to level countries where nothing
+stops the storm. This wind, blowing at first from the east, carried
+the fire westward, along the streets situated between the roads from
+Tver and Smolensk, and which are known as the richest and most
+beautiful in Moscow, those of Tverskaia, Nikitskaia, and Povorskaia.
+In a few hours the fire, having spread fiercely among the wooden
+buildings, communicated itself from one to another with frightful
+rapidity. Shooting forth in long tongues of flame, it was seen
+invading other quarters situated to the west.</p>
+
+<p>Rockets were noticed in the air, and soon wretches were seized
+carrying combustibles at the end of long poles. They were taken up;
+they were questioned with threats of death, and they revealed the
+frightful secret, the order given by the Count of Rostopchin to set
+fire to the city of Moscow, as if it had been the smallest village on
+the road from Smolensk. This news spread consternation through the
+army in an instant. To doubt was no longer possible, after the arrests
+made, and the depositions collected from different parts of the town.
+Napoleon ordered that in each quarter the corps fixt there should form
+military commissions to try, shoot, and hang on gibbets the
+incendiaries taken in the act. He ordered likewise that they should
+employ all the troops there were in the town to extinguish the fire.
+They ran to the pumps, but there were none<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> to be found. This last
+circumstance would have left no doubt, if there had remained any, of
+the frightful design that delivered Moscow to the flames....</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon, followed by some of his lieutenants, went out of that
+Kremlin which the Russian army had not been able to prevent him from
+entering, but from which the fire expelled him after four-and-twenty
+hours of possession, descended to the quay of Moskowa, found his
+horses ready there, and had much difficulty in crossing the town,
+which toward the northwest, whither he directed his course, was
+already in flames. The wind, which constantly increased in violence,
+sometimes caused columns of fire to bend to the ground, and drove
+before it torrents of sparks, smoke, and stifling cinders. The
+horrible appearance of the sky answered to the no less horrible
+spectacle of the earth. The terrified army went out of Moscow. The
+divisions of Prince Eugene and Marshal Ney, which had entered the
+evening before, turned back again on the roads of Zwenigorod and Saint
+Petersburg; those of Marshal Davoust returned by the road of Smolensk,
+and, except the guard left around the Kremlin to dispute its
+possession with the flames, our troops retired in haste, struck with
+horror, before this fire, which, after darting up toward the sky,
+seemed to bend down again over them as if it wished to devour them. A
+small number of the inhabitants who had remained in Moscow, and had
+hidden at first in their houses without daring to come out, now
+escaped from them, carrying away what was most dear to them&mdash;women
+their children, men their infirm parents.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> From Book XLIV of the "History of the Consulate and
+Empire." Napoleon's army entered Moscow on September 15, 1812, or
+seven days after the battle of Borodino, "the bloodiest battle of the
+century," the losses on each side having been about 40,000. Napoleon
+had crossed the river Niemen in June of this year with an invading
+army of 400,000 men. When he crossed it again in December, after the
+burning of Moscow, the French numbered only 20,000, The "Consulate and
+Empire" has been translated by D. F. Campbell, F. N. Redhead and N.
+Stapleton.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> The Kremlin is a fortified enclosure within the city and
+containing the imperial palace, three cathedrals, a monastery, convent
+and arsenal. It is surrounded by battlemented walls that date from
+1492. Within the palace are rooms of great size, one of them being 68
+by 200 feet, with a height of more than 60 feet. Many historic events
+in the times of Ivan the Terrible, and Peter the Great, are associated
+with the Kremlin. Among its treasures are the Great Bell, coronation
+robes and the thrones of the old Persian Shah and toe last emperor of
+Constantinople.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HONORE_DE_BALZAC" id="HONORE_DE_BALZAC"></a>HONOR&Eacute; DE BALZAC</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1799, died in 1850; educated at Tours and
+Paris; became a lawyer's clerk; wrote short stories and
+novels anonymously and became seriously involved in a
+publishing venture; his first novel of merit, "Le Dernier
+Chonan ou la Bretagne," published in 1829, "Eug&eacute;nie Grandet"
+in 1833, "P&egrave;re Goriot" in 1835, "C&eacute;sar Birotteau" in 1838;
+married in 1850 Madame Hanska of a noble Polish family.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_8" id="I_8"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DEATH OF P&Eacute;RE GORIOT<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>There was something awful and appalling in the sudden apparition of
+the Countess. She saw the bed of death by the dim light of the single
+candle, and her tears flowed at the sight of her father's passive
+features, from which the life has almost ebbed. Bianchon with
+thoughtful tact left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I could not escape soon enough," she said to Rastignac.</p>
+
+<p>The student bowed sadly in reply. Mme. de Restaud took her father's
+hand and kissed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me, father! You used to say that my voice would call you back
+from the grave; ah! come back for one moment to bless your penitent
+daughter. Do you hear me? Oh! this is fearful! No one on earth will
+ever bless me henceforth; every one hates me; no one loves <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>me but you
+in all the world. My own children will hate me. Take me with you,
+father; I will love you, I will take care of you. He does not hear
+me&mdash;I am mad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She fell on her knees, and gazed wildly at the human wreck before her.</p>
+
+<p>"My cup of misery is full," she said, turning her eyes upon Eugene.
+"M. de Trailles has fled, leaving enormous debts behind him, and I
+have found out that he was deceiving me. My husband will never forgive
+me, and I have left my fortune in his hands. I have lost all my
+illusions. Alas! I have forsaken the one heart that loved me (she
+pointed to her father as she spoke), and for whom? I have held his
+kindness cheap, and slighted his affection; many and many a time I
+have given him pain, ungrateful wretch that I am!"</p>
+
+<p>"He knew it," said Rastignac.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Goriot's eyelids unclosed; it was only a muscular
+contraction, but the Countess's sudden start of reviving hope was no
+less dreadful than the dying eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible that he can hear me?" cried the Countess. "No," she
+answered herself, and sat down beside the bed. As Mme. De Restaud
+seemed to wish to sit by her father, Eugene went down to take a little
+food. The boarders were already assembled.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," remarked the painter, as he joined them, "it seems that there
+is to be a death-drama up-stairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, I think you might find something less painful to joke
+about," said Eugene.</p>
+
+<p>"So we may not laugh here?" returned the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> painter. "What harm does it
+do? Bianchon said that the old man was quite insensible."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," said the employ&eacute; from the Museum, "he will die as he has
+lived."</p>
+
+<p>"My father is dead!" shrieked the Countess.</p>
+
+<p>The terrible cry brought Sylvie, Rastignac, and Bianchon; Mme. de
+Restaud had fainted away, When she recovered they carried her
+down-stairs, and put her into the cab that stood waiting at the door.
+Eugene sent Therese with her, and bade the maid take the Countess to
+Mme. de Nucingen.</p>
+
+<p>Bianchon came down to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he is dead," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, sit down to dinner, gentlemen," said Mme. Vauquer, "or the soup
+will be cold."</p>
+
+<p>The two students sat down together.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the next thing to be done?" Eugene asked of Bianchon.</p>
+
+<p>"I have closed his eyes and composed his limbs," said Bianchon. "When
+the certificate has been officially registered at the Mayor's office,
+we will sew him in his winding-sheet and bury him somewhere. What do
+you think we ought to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"He will not smell at his bread like this any more," said the painter,
+mimicking the old man's little trick.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hang it all!" cried the tutor, "let old Goriot drop, and let us
+have something else for a change. He is a standing dish, and we have
+had him with every sauce this hour or more. It is one of the
+privileges of the good city of Paris that anybody may be born, or
+live, or die there without attracting any attention<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> whatsoever. Let
+us profit by the advantages of civilization. There are fifty or sixty
+deaths every day; if you have a mind to do it, you can sit down at any
+time and wail over whole hecatombs of dead in Paris. Old Goriot has
+gone off the hooks, has he? So much the better for him. If you
+venerate his memory, keep it to yourselves, and let the rest of us
+feed in peace."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, to be sure," said the widow, "it is all the better for him that
+he is dead. It looks as tho he had had trouble enough, poor soul,
+while he was alive."</p>
+
+<p>And this was all the funeral oration delivered over him who had been
+for Eugene the type and embodiment of fatherhood.</p>
+
+<p>When the hearse came, Eugene had the coffin carried into the house
+again, unscrewed the lid, and reverently laid on the old man's breast
+the token that recalled the days when Delphine and Anastasie were
+innocent little maidens, before they began "to think for themselves,"
+as he had moaned out in his agony.</p>
+
+<p>Rastignac and Christophe and the two undertaker's men were the only
+followers of the funeral. The Church of Saint-Etienne du Mont was only
+a little distance from the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve. When the coffin
+had been deposited in a low, dark, little chapel, the law student
+looked around in vain for Goriot's two daughters or their husbands.
+Christophe was his only fellow mourner: Christophe, who appeared to
+think it was his duty to attend the funeral of the man who had put him
+in the way of such handsome tips. As they waited there in the chapel
+for the two priests, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> chorister, and the beadle, Rastignac grasped
+Christophe's hand. He could not utter a word just then.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Monsieur Eugene," said Christophe, "he was a good and worthy man
+who never said one word louder than another; he never did any one any
+harm, and gave nobody any trouble."</p>
+
+<p>The two priests, the chorister, and the beadle came, and said and did
+as much as could be expected for seventy francs in an age when
+religion can not afford to say prayers for nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The ecclesiastics chanted a psalm, the <i>Libera nos</i> and the <i>De
+profundis</i>. The whole service lasted about twenty minutes. There was
+but one mourning coach, which the priest and chorister agreed to share
+with Eugene and Christophe.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no one else to follow us," remarked the priest, "so we may
+as well go quickly, and so save time; it is half-past five."</p>
+
+<p>But just as the coffin was put in the hearse, two empty carriages,
+with the armorial bearings of the Comte de Restaud and the Baron de
+Nucingen, arrived and followed in the procession to Pere-Lachaise. At
+six o'clock Goriot's coffin was lowered into the grave, his daughters'
+servants standing round the while. The ecclesiastic recited the short
+prayer that the students could afford to pay for, and then both priest
+and lackeys disappeared at once. The two grave-diggers flung in
+several spadefuls of earth, and then stopt and asked Rastignac for
+their fee. Eugene felt in vain in his pocket, and was obliged to
+borrow five francs of Christophe.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> From the concluding chapter of "Old Goriot," as
+translated by Ellen Marri&agrave;ge.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_8" id="II_8"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>BIROTTEAU'S EARLY MARRIED LIFE<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>"You will have a good husband, my little girl," said M, Pillerault.
+"He has a warm heart and sentiments of honor. He is as straight as a
+line, and as good as the child Jesus; he is a king of men, in short."</p>
+
+<p>Constance put away once and for all the dreams of a brilliant future,
+which, like most shop-girls, she had sometimes indulged. She meant to be a
+faithful wife and a good mother, and took up this life in accordance with
+the religious program of the middle classes. After all, her new ideas were
+much better than the dangerous vanities tempting to a youthful Parisian
+imagination. Constance's intelligence was a narrow one; she was the typical
+small tradesman's wife, who always grumbles a little over her work, who
+refuses a thing at the outset, and is vexed when she is taken at her word;
+whose restless activity takes all things, from cash-box to kitchen, as its
+province, and supervises everything, from the weightiest business
+transaction down to almost invisible darns in the household linen. Such a
+woman scolds while she loves, and can only conceive ideas of the very
+simplest; only the small change, as it were; of thought passes current with
+her; she argues about everything, lives in chronic fear of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>unknown,
+makes constant forecasts, and is always thinking of the future. Her
+statuesque yet girlish beauty, her engaging looks, her freshness, prevented
+C&eacute;sar from thinking of her shortcomings; and moreover, she made up for them
+by a woman's sensitive conscientiousness, an excessive thrift, by her
+fanatical love of work, and genius as a saleswoman.</p>
+
+<p>Constance was just eighteen years old, and the possessor of eleven
+thousand francs. C&eacute;sar, in whom love had developed the most unbounded
+ambition, bought the perfumery business, and transplanted the Queen of
+Roses to a handsome shop near the Place V&ecirc;ndome. He was only
+twenty-one years of age, married to a beautiful and adored wife, and
+almost the owner of his establishment, for he had paid three-fourths
+of the amount. He saw (how should he have seen otherwise?) the future
+in fair colors, which seemed fairer still as he measured his career
+from its starting-point.</p>
+
+<p>Roguin (Ragon's notary) drew up the marriage-contract, and gave sage
+counsels to the young perfumer; he it was who interfered when the
+latter was about to complete the purchase of the business with the
+wife's money. "Just keep the money by you, my boy; ready money is
+sometimes a handy thing in a business," he had said....</p>
+
+<p>During the first year C&eacute;sar instructed his wife in all the ins and
+outs of the perfumery business, which she was admirably quick to
+grasp; she might have been brought into the world for that sole
+purpose, so well did she adapt herself to her customers. The result of
+the stock-taking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> at the end of the year alarmed the ambitious
+perfumer. After deducting all expenses, he might perhaps hope, in
+twenty years' time, to make the modest sum of a hundred thousand
+francs, the price of his felicity. He determined then and there to
+find some speedier road to fortune, and by way of a beginning, to be a
+manufacturer as well as a retailer.</p>
+
+<p>Acting against his wife's counsel, he took the lease of a shed on some
+building land in the Faubourg du Temple, and painted up thereon, in
+huge letters, <span class="smcap">C&eacute;sar Birotteau's Factory</span>. He enticed a workman from
+Grasse, and with him began to manufacture several kinds of soap,
+essences, and eau-de-cologne, on the system of half profits. The
+partnership only lasted six months, and ended in a loss, which he had
+to sustain alone; but Birotteau did not lose heart. He meant to obtain
+a result at any price, if it were only to escape a scolding from his
+wife; and, indeed, he confest to her afterward that, in those days of
+despair, his head used to boil like a pot on the fire, and that many a
+time but for his religious principles he would have thrown himself
+into the Seine.</p>
+
+<p>One day, deprest by several unsuccessful experiments, he was
+sauntering home to dinner along the boulevards (the lounger in Paris
+is a man in despair quite as often as a genuine idler), when a book
+among a hamperful at six sous apiece caught his attention; his eyes
+were attracted by the yellow dusty title-page, Abdeker, so it ran, or
+the Art of Preserving Beauty.</p>
+
+<p>Birotteau took up the work. It claimed to be a translation from the
+Arabic, but in reality it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> was a sort of romance written by a
+physician in the previous century. C&eacute;sar happened to stumble upon a
+passage there which treated of perfumes, and with his back against a
+tree in the boulevard, he turned the pages over till he reached a
+foot-note, wherein the learned author discoursed of the nature of the
+dermis and epidermis. The writer showed conclusively that such and
+such an unguent or soap often produced an effect exactly opposite to
+that intended, and the ointment, or the soap, acted as a tonic upon a
+skin that required a lenitive treatment, or vice versa.</p>
+
+<p>Birotteau saw a fortune in the book, and bought it. Yet, feeling
+little confidence in his unaided lights, he went to Vauquelin, the
+celebrated chemist, and in all simplicity asked him how to compose a
+double cosmetic which should produce the required effect upon the
+human epidermis in either case. The really learned&mdash;men so truly great
+in this sense that they can never receive in their lifetime all the
+fame that should reward vast labors like theirs&mdash;are almost always
+helpful and kindly to the poor in intellect. So it was with Vauquelin.
+He came to the assistance of the perfumer, gave him a formula for a
+paste to whiten the hands, and allowed him to style himself its
+inventor. It was this cosmetic that Birotteau called the Superfine
+Pate des Sultanes. The more thoroughly to accomplish his purpose, he
+used the recipe for the paste for a wash for the complexion, which he
+called the Carminative Toilet Lotion....</p>
+
+<p>C&eacute;sar Birotteau might be a Royalist, but public opinion at that time
+was in his favor; and tho<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> he had scarcely a hundred thousand francs
+beside his business, was looked upon as a very wealthy man. His
+steady-going ways, his punctuality, his habit of paying ready money
+for everything, of never discounting bills, while he would take paper
+to oblige a customer of whom he was sure&mdash;all these things, together
+with his readiness to oblige, had brought him a great reputation. And
+not only so; he had really made a good deal of money, but the building
+of his factories had absorbed most of it, and he paid nearly twenty
+thousand francs a year in rent. The education of their only daughter,
+whom Constance and C&eacute;sar both idolized, had been a heavy expense.
+Neither the husband nor the wife thought of money where Cesarine's
+pleasure was concerned, and they had never brought themselves to part
+with her.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine the delight of the poor peasant parvenu when he heard his
+charming Cesarine play a sonata by Steibelt or sing a ballad; when he
+saw her writing French correctly, or making sepia drawings of
+landscapes, or listened while she read aloud from the Racines, father
+and son, and explained the beauties of the poetry. What happiness it
+was for him to live again in this fair, innocent flower, not yet
+plucked from the parent stem; this angel, over whose growing graces
+and earliest development they had watched with such passionate
+tenderness; this only child, incapable of despising her father or of
+laughing at his want of education, so much was she his little
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>When C&eacute;sar came to Paris, he had known how to read, write, and cipher,
+and at that point his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> education had been arrested. There had been no
+opportunity in his hard-working life of acquiring new ideas and
+information beyond the perfumery trade. He had spent his time among
+folk to whom science and literature were matters of indifference, and
+whose knowledge was of a limited and special kind; he himself, having
+no time to spare for loftier studies, became perforce a practical man.
+He adopted (how should he have done otherwise?) the language, errors,
+and opinions of the Parisian tradesman who admires Moli&egrave;re, Voltaire,
+and Rousseau on hearsay, and buys their works, but never opens them;
+who will have it that the proper way to pronounce "armoire" is
+"ormoire"; "or" means gold, and "moire" means silk, and women's
+dresses used almost always to be made of silk, and in their cupboards
+they locked up silk and gold&mdash;therefore, "ormoire" is right and
+"armoire" is an innovation. Potier, Talma, Mlle. Mars, and other
+actors and actresses were millionaires ten times over, and did not
+live like ordinary mortals: the great tragedian lived on raw meat, and
+Mlle. Mars would have a fricassee of pearls now and then&mdash;an idea she
+had taken from some celebrated Egyptian actress. As to the Emperor,
+his waistcoat pockets were lined with leather, so that he could take a
+handful of snuff at a time; he used to ride at full gallop up the
+staircase of the orangery at Versailles. Authors and artists ended in
+the workhouse, the natural close to their eccentric careers; they
+were, every one of them, atheists into the bargain, so that you had to
+be very careful not to admit anybody of that sort into your house,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+Joseph Lebas used to advert with horror to the story of his
+sister-in-law Augustine, who married the artist Sommervieux.
+Astronomers lived on spiders. These bright examples of the attitude of
+the bourgeois mind toward philology, the drama, politics, and science
+will throw light upon its breadth of view and powers of
+comprehension....</p>
+
+<p>C&eacute;sar's wife, who had learned to know her husband's character during
+the early years of their marriage, led a life of perpetual terror; she
+represented sound sense and foresight in the partnership; she was
+doubt, opposition, and fear, while C&eacute;sar represented boldness,
+ambition, activity, the element of chance and undreamed-of good luck.
+In spite of appearances, the merchant was the weaker vessel, and it
+was the wife who really had the patience and courage. So it had come
+to pass that a timid mediocrity, without education, knowledge, or
+strength of character, a being who could in nowise have succeeded in
+the world's most slippery places, was taken for a remarkable man, a
+man of spirit and resolution, thanks to his instinctive uprightness
+and sense of justice, to the goodness of a truly Christian soul, and
+love for the one woman who had been his.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> From "The Rise and Fall of C&eacute;sar Birotteau," as
+translated by Ellen Marri&agrave;ge.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ALFRED_DE_VIGNY" id="ALFRED_DE_VIGNY"></a>ALFRED DE VIGNY</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1799, died in 1863; entered the army in 1815,
+becoming a captain in 1823; published a volume of verse in
+1822; "Cinq-Mars," his famous historical novel, published in
+1826; made translations from Shakespeare and wrote original
+historical dramas; admitted to the French Academy in 1845.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="RICHELIEUS_WAY_WITH_HIS_MASTER" id="RICHELIEUS_WAY_WITH_HIS_MASTER"></a>RICHELIEU'S WAY WITH HIS MASTER<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The latter [Cardinal de Richelieu], attired in all the pomp of a
+cardinal, leaning upon two young pages, and followed by his captain of
+the guards and more than five hundred gentlemen attached to his house,
+advanced toward the King slowly and stopping at each step, as if
+forcibly arrested by his sufferings, but in reality to observe the
+faces before him. A glance sufficed.</p>
+
+<p>His suite remained at the entrance of the royal tent; of all those
+within it not one was bold enough to salute him, or to look toward
+him. Even La Vallette feigned to be deeply occupied in a conversation
+with Montresor; and the King, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>who desired to give him an unfavorable
+reception, greeted him lightly and continued a conversation aside in a
+low voice with the Duc de Beaufort.</p>
+
+<p>The cardinal was therefore forced, after the first salute, to stop and
+pass to the side of the crowd of courtiers, as tho he wished to mix
+with them, but in reality to test them more closely; they all recoiled
+as at the sight of a leper. Fabert alone advanced toward him with the
+frank and blunt air habitual with him, and making use of the terms
+belonging to his profession, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my Lord, you make a breach in the midst of them like a
+cannon-ball; I ask pardon in their name."</p>
+
+<p>"And you stand firm before me as before the enemy," said the cardinal;
+"you will have no cause to regret it in the end, my dear Fabert."</p>
+
+<p>Mazarin also approached the cardinal, but with caution, and giving to
+his flexible features an expression of profound sadness, made him five
+or six very low bows, turning his back to the group gathered round the
+King, so that in the latter quarter they might be taken for those cold
+and hasty salutations which are made to a person one desires to be rid
+of, and, on the part of the Duc, for tokens of respect blended with a
+discreet and silent sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>The minister, ever calm, smiled in disdain; and assuming that firm
+look and that air of grandeur which he wore so perfectly in the hour
+of danger, he again leaned upon his pages, and without waiting for a
+word or glance from his sovereign, he suddenly resolved upon his line
+of conduct,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> and walked directly toward him, traversing the whole
+length of the tent. No one had lost sight of him, altho affecting not
+to observe him. Every one now became silent, even those who were
+talking to the King; all the courtiers bent forward to see and to
+hear.</p>
+
+<p>Louis XIII turned round in astonishment, and all presence of mind
+totally failing him, remained motionless, and waited with an icy
+glance&mdash;his sole force, but a <i>vis inerti&aelig;</i> very effectual in a
+prince.</p>
+
+<p>The cardinal, on coming close to the prince, did not bow; and without
+changing his position, his eyes lowered and his hands placed on the
+shoulders of the two boys half-bending, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Sire, I come to implore your Majesty at length to grant me the
+retirement for which I have long sighed. My health is failing; I feel
+that my life will soon be ended. Eternity approaches me, and before
+rendering an account to the eternal King, I would render one to my
+temporal sovereign. It is eighteen years, Sire, since you placed in my
+hands a weak and divided kingdom; I return it to you united and
+powerful. Your enemies are overthrown and humiliated. My work is
+accomplished. I ask your Majesty's permission to retire to Citeaux, of
+which I am abbot, and where I may end my days in prayer and
+meditation."</p>
+
+<p>The King, irritated with some haughty expressions in this address,
+showed none of the signs of weakness which the cardinal had expected,
+and which he had always seen in him when he had threatened to resign
+the management of affairs. On the contrary, feeling that he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> the
+eyes of the whole court upon him, Louis looked upon him with the air
+of a king, and coldly replied:</p>
+
+<p>"We thank you, then, for your services, M. le Cardinal, and wish you
+the repose you desire."</p>
+
+<p>Richelieu was deeply angered, but no indication of his rage appeared
+upon his countenance. "Such was the coldness with which you left
+Montmorency to die," he said to himself; "but you shall not escape me
+thus." He then continued aloud, bowing at the same time:</p>
+
+<p>"The only recompense I ask for my services is that your Majesty will
+deign to accept from me, as a gift, the Palais-Cardinal I have already
+erected at my own cost in Paris."</p>
+
+<p>The King, astonished, bowed in token of assent. A murmur of surprize
+for a moment agitated the attentive court.</p>
+
+<p>"I also petition your Majesty to grant me the revocation of an act of
+rigor, which I solicited (I publicly confess it), and which I perhaps
+regarded as too beneficial to the repose of the state. Yes, when I was
+of this world, I was too forgetful of my old sentiments of personal
+respect and attachment, in my eagerness for the public welfare; now
+that I already enjoy the enlightenment of solitude, I see that I have
+been wrong, and I repent."</p>
+
+<p>The attention of the spectators was redoubled, and the uneasiness of
+the King became visible.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there is one person, Sire, whom I have always loved, despite her
+wrongs toward you, and the banishment which the affairs of the kingdom
+forced me to procure for her; a person to whom I have owed much, and
+who should be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> very dear to you, notwithstanding her armed attempts
+against you; a person, in a word, whom I implore you to recall from
+exile&mdash;the Queen Marie de Medicis, your mother."</p>
+
+<p>The King sent forth an involuntary exclamation, so far was he from
+expecting to hear that name. A represt agitation suddenly appeared
+upon every face. All awaited in silence the King's reply. Louis XIII
+looked for a long time at his old minister without speaking, and this
+look decided the fate of France; in that instant he called to mind all
+the indefatigable services of Richelieu, his unbounded devotion, his
+wonderful capacity, and was surprized at himself for having wished to
+part with him. He felt deeply affected at this request, which hunted
+out, as it were, the exact cause of his anger at the bottom of his
+heart, rooted it up, and took from his hands the only weapon he had
+against his old servant; filial love brought the words of pardon to
+his lips and tears into his eyes. Delighted to grant what he desired
+most of all things in the world, he extended his hand to the Duc with
+all the nobleness and kindliness of a Bourbon. The cardinal bowed, and
+respectfully kissed it; and his heart, which should have burst with
+remorse, only swelled in the joy of a haughty triumph.</p>
+
+<p>The prince, much moved, abandoning his hand to him, turned gracefully
+toward his court and said with a tremulous voice:</p>
+
+<p>"We often deceive ourselves, gentlemen, and especially in our
+knowledge of so great a politician as this; I hope he will never leave
+us, since his heart is as good as his head."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cardinal de la Vallette on the instant seized the arm of the King's
+mantle, and kissed it with all the ardor of a lover, and the young
+Mazarin did much the same with Richelieu himself, assuming with
+admirable Italian suppleness an expression radiant with joyful
+emotion. Two streams of flatterers hastened, one toward the King, the
+other toward the minister; the former group, not less adroit than the
+second, altho less direct, addrest to the prince thanks which could be
+heard by the minister, and burned at the feet of the one incense which
+was destined for the other. As for Richelieu, bestowing a bow on the
+right and a smile on the left, he stept forward, and stood on the
+right hand of the King, as his natural place.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> From "Cinq-Mars; or the Conspiracy Under Louis XIII."
+Translated by William C. Hazlitt. The Marquis de Cinq-Mars was a
+favorite of Louis XIII, grand-master of the wardrobe and the horse,
+and aspired to a seat in the royal council and to the hand of Maria de
+Gonzaga, Princess of Mantua. Having been refused by Richelieu a place
+in the council, he formed a conspiracy against the cardinal and
+entered into a treasonable correspondence with Spain. The conspiracy
+being discovered, he was beheaded at Lyons in 1642. Bulwer's popular
+play "Richelieu," tho founded on this episode, diverges radically in
+several details.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="VICTOR_HUGO" id="VICTOR_HUGO"></a>VICTOR HUGO</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1802, died in 1885; his childhood spent partly in
+Corsica, Italy and Spain, his father an officer in
+Napoleon's army; educated at home by a priest and at a
+school in Paris; published in 1816 his first tragedy,
+"Irtam&egrave;me," followed by other plays and poems; his most
+notable work down to 1859 being "La Legende"; his writings
+extremely numerous, other titles being "L'Art d'&ecirc;tre
+Grand-P&egrave;re" 1877, "Notre Dame de Paris" 1831, "Napoleon le
+Petit" 1852, "Les Mis&eacute;rables" 1862, "Les Travailleurs de la
+Mer" 1866, "L'Homme Qui Rit" 1869, "Quatrevingt-treize"
+1874, "History of a Crime" 1877; elected to the French
+Academy in 1841; exiled from France in 1851, living first in
+Belgium, then in Jersey and Guernsey; returned to France
+after the fall of the Empire in 1870; elected a life member
+of the Senate in 1876.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I_9" id="I_9"></a>THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The battle of Waterloo is an enigma as obscure for those who gained it
+as for him who lost it. To Napoleon it is a panic; Blucher sees
+nothing in it but fire; Wellington does not understand it at all. Look
+at the reports: the bulletins are confused; the commentaries are
+entangled; the latter stammer, the former stutter. Jomini divides the
+battle of Waterloo into four moments; Muffling cuts it into three
+acts; Charras, altho we do not entirely agree with him in all his
+appreciations, has alone caught with his haughty eye the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>characteristic lineaments of this catastrophe of human genius
+contending with divine chance. All the other historians suffer from a
+certain bedazzlement in which they grope about. It was a flashing day,
+in truth the overthrow of the military monarchy which, to the great
+stupor of the kings, has dragged down all kingdoms, the downfall of
+strength and the rout of war.</p>
+
+<p>In this event, which bears the stamp of superhuman necessity, men play
+but a small part; but if we take Waterloo from Wellington and Blucher,
+does that deprive England and Germany of anything? No. Neither
+illustrious England nor august Germany is in question in the problem
+of Waterloo, for, thank heaven! nations are great without the mournful
+achievements of the sword. Neither Germany, nor England, nor France is
+held in a scabbard; at this day when Waterloo is only a clash of
+sabers, Germany has Goethe above Blucher, and England Byron above
+Wellington. A mighty dawn of ideas is peculiar to our age; and in this
+dawn England and Germany have their own magnificent flash. They are
+majestic because they think; the high level they bring to civilization
+is intrinsic to them; it comes from themselves, and not from an
+accident. Any aggrandizement the nineteenth century may have can not
+boast of Waterloo as its fountainhead; for only barbarous nations grow
+suddenly after a victory&mdash;it is the transient vanity of torrents
+swollen by a storm. Civilized nations, especially at the present day,
+are not elevated or debased by the good or evil fortune of a captain,
+and their specific weight in the human family results from something
+more than a battle. Their honor,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> dignity, enlightenment, and genius
+are not numbers which those gamblers, heroes, and conquerors can stake
+in the lottery of battles. Very often a battle lost is progress
+gained, and less of glory, more of liberty. The drummer is silent and
+reason speaks; it is the game of who loses wins. Let us, then, speak
+of Waterloo coldly from both sides, and render to chance the things
+that belong to chance, and to God what is God's. What is Waterloo&mdash;a
+victory? No; a quine in the lottery, won by Europe, and paid by
+France; it was hardly worth while erecting a lion for it.</p>
+
+<p>Waterloo, by the way, is the strangest encounter recorded in history;
+Napoleon and Wellington are not enemies, but contraries. Never did
+God, who delights in antitheses, produce a more striking contrast, or
+a more extraordinary confrontation. On one side precision, foresight,
+geometry, prudence, a retreat assured, reserves prepared, an obstinate
+coolness, an imperturbable method, strategy profiting by the ground,
+tactics balancing battalions, carnage measured by a plumb-line, war
+regulated watch in hand, nothing left voluntarily to accident, old
+classic courage and absolute correctness. On the other side we have
+intuition, divination, military strangeness, superhuman instinct, a
+flashing glance; something that gazes like the eagle and strikes like
+lightning, all the mysteries of a profound mind, association with
+destiny; the river, the plain, the forest, and the hill summoned, and,
+to some extent, compelled to obey, the despot going so far as even to
+tyrannize over the battle-field; faith in a star, blended with
+strategic science, heightening, but troubling it. Wellington was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> the
+Bar&ecirc;me of war, Napoleon was its Michelangelo, and this true genius was
+conquered by calculation. On both sides somebody was expected; and it
+was the exact calculator who succeeded. Napoleon waited for Grouchy,
+who did not come; Wellington waited for Blucher, and he came.</p>
+
+<p>Wellington is the classical war taking its revenge; Bonaparte, in his
+dawn, had met it in Italy, and superbly defeated it&mdash;the old owl fled
+before the young vulture. The old tactics had been not only
+overthrown, but scandalized. Who was this Corsican of six-and-twenty
+years of age? What meant this splendid ignoramus, who, having
+everything against him, nothing for him, without provisions,
+ammunition, guns, shoes, almost without an army, with a handful of men
+against masses, dashed at allied Europe, and absurdly gained
+impossible victories? Who was this new comet of war who possest the
+effrontery of a planet? The academic military school excommunicated
+him, while bolting, and hence arose an implacable rancor of the old
+C&aelig;sarism against the new, of the old saber against the flashing sword,
+and of the chessboard against genius. On June 18th, 1815, this rancor
+got the best; and beneath Lodi, Montebello, Montenotte, Mantua,
+Marengo, and Arcola, it wrote&mdash;Waterloo. It was a triumph of
+mediocrity, sweet to majorities, and destiny consented to this irony.
+In his decline, Napoleon found a young Suvarov before him&mdash;in fact, it
+is only necessary to blanch Wellington's hair in order to have a
+Suvarov. Waterloo is a battle of the first class, gained by a captain
+of the second.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What must be admired in the battle of Waterloo is England, the English
+firmness, the English resolution, the English blood, and what England
+had really superb in it, is (without offense) herself; it is not her
+captain, but her army. Wellington, strangely ungrateful, declares in
+his dispatch to Lord Bathurst that his army, the one which fought on
+June 18th, 1815, was a "detestable army." What does the gloomy pile of
+bones buried in the trenches of Waterloo think of this? England has
+been too modest to herself in her treatment of Wellington, for making
+him so great is making herself small. Wellington is merely a hero,
+like any other man. The Scotch Grays, the Life Guards, Maitland and
+Mitchell's regiments, Pack and Kempt's infantry, Ponsonby and
+Somerset's cavalry, the Highlanders playing the bagpipes under the
+shower of canister, Ryland's battalions, the fresh recruits who could
+hardly manage a musket, and yet held their ground against the old
+bands of Essling and Rivoli&mdash;all this is grand. Wellington was
+tenacious; that was his merit, and we do not deny it to him, but the
+lowest of his privates and his troopers was quite as solid as he, and
+the iron soldier is as good as the iron duke. For our part, all our
+glorification is offered to the English soldier, the English army, the
+English nation; and if there must be a trophy, it is to England that
+this trophy is owing. The Waterloo column would be more just, if,
+instead of the figure of a man, it raised to the clouds the statue of
+a people.</p>
+
+<p>But this great England will be irritated by what we are writing here;
+for she still has feudal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> illusions, after her 1688 and the French
+1789. This people believes in inheritance and hierarchy, and while no
+other excels it in power and glory, it esteems itself as a nation and
+not as a people. As a people, it readily subordinates itself, and
+takes a lord as its head; the workman lets himself be despised; the
+soldier puts up with flogging, It will be remembered that, at the
+battle of Inkerman, a sergeant who, as it appears, saved the British
+army, could not be mentioned by Lord Raglan, because the military
+hierarchy does not allow any hero below the rank of officer to be
+mentioned in dispatches. What we admire before all, in an encounter
+like Waterloo, is the prodigious skill of chance. The night raid, the
+wall of Hougomont, the hollow way of Ohain, Grouchy deaf to the
+cannon, Napoleon's guide deceiving him, Bulow's guide enlightening
+him&mdash;all this cataclysm is marvelously managed.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether, we will assert, there is more of a massacre than of a
+battle in Waterloo. Waterloo, of all pitched battles, is the one which
+had the smallest front for such a number of combatants. Napoleon's
+three-quarters of a league. Wellington's half a league, and
+seventy-two thousand combatants on either side. From this density came
+the carnage. The following calculation has been made and proportion
+established: loss of men, at Austerlitz, French, fourteen per cent.;
+Russian, thirty per cent.; Austrian, forty-four per cent.: at Wagram,
+French, thirteen per cent.; Austrian, fourteen per cent.: at Moscow,
+French, thirty-seven per cent.; Russian, forty-four per cent.: at
+Bautzen, French, thirteen per cent.; Russian and Prussian, fourteen
+per cent.: at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> Waterloo, French, fifty-six per cent.; allies,
+thirty-one per cent.&mdash;total for Waterloo, forty-one per cent., or out
+of one hundred and forty-four thousand fighting men, sixty thousand
+killed.</p>
+
+<p>The field of Waterloo has at the present day that calmness which
+belongs to the earth, and resembles all plains; but at night, a sort
+of visionary mist rises from it, and if any traveler walk about it,
+and listen and dream, like Virgil on the mournful plain of Philippi,
+the hallucination of the catastrophe seizes upon him. The frightful
+June 18th lives again, the false monumental hill is leveled, the
+wondrous lion is dissipated, the battle-field resumes its reality,
+lines of infantry undulate on the plain; furious galloping crosses the
+horizon; the startled dreamer sees the flash of sabers, the sparkle of
+bayonets, the red light of shells, the monstrous collision of
+thunderbolts; he hears, like a death groan from the tomb, the vague
+clamor of the fantom battle. These shadows are grenadiers; these
+flashes are cuirassiers; this skeleton is Napoleon; this skeleton is
+Wellington; all this is nonexistent, and yet still combats, and the
+ravines are stained purple, and the trees rustle, and there is fury
+even in the clouds and in the darkness, while all the stern heights,
+Mont St. Jean, Hougomont, Frischemont, Papelotte, and Plancenoit, seem
+confusedly crowned by hosts of specters exterminating one another.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Mis&eacute;rables."
+Translation of Lascelles Wraxall.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="II_9" id="II_9"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2>THE BEGINNINGS AND EXPANSIONS OF PARIS<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The Paris of three hundred and fifty years ago, the Paris of the
+fifteenth century, was already a gigantic city. We modern Parisians in
+general are much mistaken in regard to the ground which we imagine it
+has gained. Since the time of Louis XI Paris has not increased above
+one-third; and certes it has lost much more in beauty than it has
+acquired in magnitude.</p>
+
+<p>The infant Paris was born, as everybody knows, in that ancient island
+in the shape of a cradle, which is now called the City. The banks of
+that island were its first enclosure; the Seine was its first ditch.
+For several centuries Paris was confined to the island, having two
+bridges, the one on the north, the other on the south, the two
+<i>t&ecirc;tes-de-ponts</i>, which were at once its gates and its fortresses&mdash;the
+Grand Chatelet on the right bank and the Petit Chatelet on the left.
+In process of time, under the kings of the first dynasty, finding
+herself straitened in her island and unable to turn herself about, she
+crossed the water. A first enclosure of walls and towers then began to
+encroach upon either bank of the Seine beyond the two Chatelets. Of
+this ancient enclosure some vestiges were still remaining in the past
+century; nothing is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>now left of it but the memory and here and there
+a tradition. By degrees the flood of houses, always propelled from the
+heart to the extremities, wore away and overflowed this enclosure.</p>
+
+<p>Philip Augustus surrounded Paris with new ramparts. He imprisoned the
+city within a circular chain of large, lofty, and massive towers. For
+more than a century the houses, crowding closer and closer, raised
+their level in this basin, like water in a reservoir. They began to
+grow higher; story was piled upon story; they shot up like any
+comprest liquid, and each tried to lift its head above its neighbors
+in order to obtain a little fresh air. The streets became deeper and
+deeper, and narrower and narrower; every vacant place was covered and
+disappeared. The houses at length overleapt the wall of Philip
+Augustus, and merrily scattered themselves at random over the plain,
+like prisoners who had made their escape. There they sat themselves
+down at their ease and carved themselves gardens out of the fields. So
+early as 1367 the suburbs of the city had spread so far as to need a
+fresh enclosure, especially on the right bank; this was built for it
+by Charles V. But a place like Paris is perpetually increasing. It is
+such cities alone that become capitals of countries. They are
+reservoirs into which all the geographical, political, moral, and
+intellectual channels of a country, all the natural inclined planes of
+its population discharge themselves; wells of civilization, if we may
+be allowed the expression, and drains also, where all that constitutes
+the sap, the life, the soul of the nation, is incessantly collecting
+and filtering, drop by drop, age by age.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The enclosure of Charles V consequently shared the same fate as that
+of Philip Augustus. So early as the conclusion of the fifteenth
+century it was overtaken, passed, and the suburbs kept traveling
+onward. In the sixteenth it seemed very visibly receding more and more
+into the ancient city, so rapidly did the new town thicken on the
+other side of it. Thus, so far back as the fifteenth century, to come
+down no further, Paris had already worn out the three concentric
+circles of walls which, from the time of Julian the Apostate, lay in
+embryo, if I may be allowed the expression, in the Grand and Petit
+Chatelets. The mighty city had successively burst its four mural
+belts, like a growing boy bursting the garments made for him a year
+ago. Under Louis XI there were still to be seen ruined towers of the
+ancient enclosures, rising at intervals above the sea of houses, like
+the tops of hills from amid an inundation, like the archipelagos of
+old Paris submerged beneath the new....</p>
+
+<p>Each of these great divisions of Paris was, as we have observed, a
+city, but a city too special to be complete, a city which could not do
+without the two others. Thus they had three totally different aspects.
+The City, properly so called, abounded in churches; the Ville
+contained the palaces; and the University, the colleges. Setting aside
+secondary jurisdictions, we may assume generally that the island was
+under the bishop, the right bank under the provost of the merchants,
+the left under the rector of the University, and the whole under the
+provost of Paris, a royal and not a municipal officer. The City had
+the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Ville the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> Louvre and the Hotel de
+Ville, and the University the Sorbonne. The Ville contained the
+Halles, the City the Hotel Dieu, and the University the Pr&eacute; aux
+Clercs. For offenses committed by the students on the left bank, in
+their Pr&eacute; aux Clercs, they were tried at the Palace of Justice in the
+island, and punished on the right bank at Montfaucon, unless the
+rector, finding the University strong and the king weak, chose to
+interfere; for it was a privilege of the scholars to be hung in their
+own quarter.</p>
+
+<p>Most of these privileges, be it remarked by the way, and some of them
+were more valuable than that just mentioned, had been extorted from
+different sovereigns by riots and insurrections. This is the
+invariable course&mdash;the king never grants any boon but what is wrung
+from him by the people.</p>
+
+<p>In the fifteenth century that part of the Seine comprehended within
+the enclosure of Paris contained five islands: the Ile Louviers, then
+covered with trees and now with timber, the Ile aux Vaches, and the
+Ile Notre Dame, both uninhabited and belonging to the bishop [in the
+seventeenth century these two islands were converted into one, which
+has been built upon and is now called the Isle of St. Louis]; lastly
+the City, and at its point the islet of the Passeur aux Vaches, since
+buried under the platform of the Pont Neuf. The City had at that time
+five bridges: three on the right&mdash;the bridge of Notre Dame and the
+Pont au Change of stone, and the Pont aux Meuniers of wood; two on the
+left&mdash;the Petit Pont of stone, and the Pont St. Michel of wood; all of
+them covered with houses. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> university had six gates, built by
+Philip Augustus; these were, setting out from the Tournelle, the Gate
+of St. Victor, the Gate of Bordelle, the Papal Gate, and the gates of
+St. Jacques, St. Michel, and St. Germain. The Ville had six gates,
+built by Charles V, that is to say, beginning from the Tower of Billy,
+the gates of St. Antoine, the Temple, St. Martin, St. Denis,
+Montmartre, and St. Honor&eacute;. All these gates were strong, and handsome,
+too, a circumstance which does not detract from strength. A wide, deep
+ditch, supplied by the Seine with water, which was swollen by the
+floods of winter to a running stream, encircled the foot of the wall
+all round Paris. At night the gates were closed, the river was barred
+at the two extremities of the city by stout iron chains, and Paris
+slept in quiet.</p>
+
+<p>A bird's-eye view of these three towns, the City, the University, and
+the Ville, exhibited to the eye an inextricable knot of streets
+strangely jumbled together. It was apparent, however, at first sight
+that these three fragments of a city formed but a single body. The
+spectator perceived immediately two long parallel streets, without
+break or interruption, crossing the three cities, nearly in a right
+line, from one end to the other, from south to north, perpendicularly
+to the Seine, incessantly pouring the people of the one into the
+other, connecting, blending them together and converting the three
+into one. The first of these streets ran from the Gate of St. Jacques
+to the Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the University the street
+of St. Jacques, in the City Rue de la Juiverie, and in the Ville, the
+street of St. Martin;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> it crossed the river twice by the name of Petit
+Pont and Pont Notre Dame. The second, named Rue de la Harpe on the
+left bank, Rue de la Barillerie in the island, Rue St. Denis on the
+right bank, Pont St. Michel over one arm of the Seine, and Pont au
+Change over the other, Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the
+University to the Gate of St. Denis in the Ville. Still, tho they bore
+so many different names, they formed in reality only two streets, but
+the two mother-streets, the two great arteries of Paris. All the other
+veins of the triple city were fed by or discharged themselves into
+these....</p>
+
+<p>What, then, was the aspect of this whole, viewed from the summit of
+the towers of Notre Dame in 1482? That is what we shall now attempt to
+describe. The spectator, on arriving breathless at that elevation, was
+dazzled by the chaos of roofs, chimneys, streets, bridges, belfries,
+towers and steeples. All burst at once upon the eye&mdash;the carved gable,
+the sharp roof, the turret perched upon the angles of the walls, the
+stone pyramids of the eleventh century, the slated obelisk of the
+fifteenth, the round and naked keep of the castle, the square and
+embroidered tower of the church, the great and the small, the massive
+and the light. The eye was long bewildered amid this labyrinth of
+heights and depths in which there was nothing but had its originality,
+its reason, its genius, its beauty, nothing, but issued from the hand
+of art, from the humblest dwelling with its painted and carved wooden
+front, elliptical doorway, and overhanging stories, to the royal
+Louvre, which then had a colonnade of towers.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> From Book III, Chapter II, of "The Hunchback of Notre
+Dame." From an anonymous, non-copyright translation published by A. L.
+Burt Company.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ALEXANDRE_DUMAS" id="ALEXANDRE_DUMAS"></a>ALEXANDRE DUMAS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in 1802, died in 1870; his father a French general, his
+grandmother a negress; at first a writer of plays; active in
+the Revolution of 1830; wrote books of travel and short
+stories, a great number of novels, some of them in
+collaboration with others; "Les Trois Mousquetaires"
+published in 1844; "Monte Cristo" in 1844-45; "Le Reine
+Margot" in 1845; wrote also historical sketches and
+reminiscences; his son of the same name famous also as a
+writer of books and a playwright.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_SHOULDER_THE_BELT_AND_THE_HANDKERCHIEF" id="THE_SHOULDER_THE_BELT_AND_THE_HANDKERCHIEF"></a>THE SHOULDER, THE BELT, AND THE HANDKERCHIEF<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Furious with rage, D'Artagnan crossed the anteroom in three strides,
+and began to descend the stairs four steps at a time, without looking
+where he was going; when suddenly he was brought up short by knocking
+violently against the shoulder of a musketeer who was leaving the
+apartments of M. De Treville. The young man staggered backward from
+the shock, uttering a cry, or rather a yell.</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan, trying to pass him, "but I am in a great
+hurry."</p>
+
+<p>He had hardly placed his foot on the next step, when he was stopt by
+the grasp of an iron wrist on his sash.</p>
+
+<p>"You are in a great hurry!" cried the musketeer, whose face was the
+color of a shroud; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>"and you think that is enough apology for nearly
+knocking me down? Not so fast, my young man. I suppose you imagine
+that because you heard M. De Treville speaking to us rather brusquely
+to-day, that everybody may treat us in the same way? But you are
+mistaken, and it is as well you should learn that you are not M. De
+Treville."</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my honor," replied D'Artagnan, recognizing Athos, who was
+returning to his room after having his wound drest, "upon my honor, it
+was an accident, and therefore I begged your pardon. I should have
+thought that was all that was necessary. I repeat that I am in a very
+great hurry, and I should be much obliged if you would let me go my
+way."</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur," said Athos, loosening his hold, "you are sadly lacking in
+courtesy, and one sees that you must have had a rustic upbringing."</p>
+
+<p>D'Artagnan was by this time half-way down another flight; but on
+hearing Athos's remark he stopt short.</p>
+
+<p>"My faith, monsieur!" exclaimed he, "however rustic I may be, I shall
+not come to you to teach me manners."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not so sure of that," replied Athos.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if I was only not in such haste," cried D'Artagnan; "if only I
+was not pursuing somebody&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur, you will find me without running after me. Do you
+understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"And where, if you please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Near Carmes-Deschaux."</p>
+
+<p>"At what hour?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twelve o'clock."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Very good. At twelve I will be there."</p>
+
+<p>"And don't be late, for at a quarter-past twelve I will cut off your
+ears for you."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," called out D'Artagnan, dashing on down-stairs after his
+man; "you may expect me at ten minutes before the hour."</p>
+
+<p>But he was not to escape so easily. At the street door stood Porthos,
+talking to a sentry, and between the two men there was barely space
+for a man to pass. D'Artagnan took it for granted that he could get
+through, and darted on, swift as an arrow, but he had not reckoned on
+the gale that was blowing. As he passed, a sudden gust wrapt Porthos's
+mantle tight round him; and tho the owner of the garment could easily
+have freed him had he so chosen, for reasons of his own he preferred
+to draw the folds still closer.</p>
+
+<p>D'Artagnan, hearing the volley of oaths let fall by the musketeers,
+feared he might have damaged the splendor of the belt, and struggled
+to unwind himself; but when he at length freed his head, he found that
+like most things in this world the belt had two sides, and while the
+front bristled with gold, the back was mere leather; which explains
+why Porthos always had a cold and could not part from his mantle.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound you!" cried Porthos, struggling in his turn, "have you gone
+mad, that you tumble over people like this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me," answered D'Artagnan, "but I am in a great hurry. I am
+pursuing some one, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And I suppose that on such occasions you leave your eyes behind you?"
+asked Porthos.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied D'Artagnan, rather nettled;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> "and thanks to my eyes, I
+often see things that other people don't."</p>
+
+<p>Possibly Porthos might have understood this allusion, but in any case
+he did not attempt to control his anger, and said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur, we shall have to give you a lesson if you take to tumbling
+against the musketeers like this!"</p>
+
+<p>"A lesson, monsieur!" replied D'Artagnan; "that is rather a severe
+expression."</p>
+
+<p>"It is the expression of a man who is always accustomed to look his
+enemies in the face."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if that is all, there is no fear of your turning your back on
+anybody," and enchanted at his own wit, the young man walked away in
+fits of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Porthos foamed with rage, and rushed after D'Artagnan.</p>
+
+<p>"By and by, by and by," cried the latter; "when you have not got your
+mantle on."</p>
+
+<p>"At one o'clock then, behind the Luxembourg."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; at one o'clock," replied D'Artagnan as he vanished around
+the corner....</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, he had gotten himself into two fierce duels with two men,
+each able to kill three D'Artagnans; in a word, with two
+musketeers&mdash;beings he set so high that he placed them above all other
+men.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sad lookout. To be sure, as the youth was certain to be
+killed by Athos, he was not much disturbed about Porthos. As hope is
+the last thing to die in a man's heart, however, he ended by hoping
+that he might come out alive from both duels, even if dreadfully
+injured; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> on that supposition he scored himself in this way for
+his conduct:</p>
+
+<p>"What a rattle-headed dunce I am! Thai brave and unfortunate Athos was
+wounded right on that shoulder I ran against head foremost, like a
+ram. The only thing that surprizes me is that he didn't strike me dead
+on the spot; he had provocation enough, for I must have hurt him
+savagely. As to Porthos&mdash;oh! as to Porthos&mdash;that's a funny affair!"</p>
+
+<p>And the youth began to laugh aloud in spite of himself; looking round
+carefully, however, to see if his laughing alone in public without
+apparent cause aroused any suspicion....</p>
+
+<p>D'Artagnan, walking and soliloquizing, had come within a few steps of
+the Aiguillon House, and in front of it saw Aramis chatting gaily with
+three of the King's Guards. Aramis also saw D'Artagnan; but not having
+forgotten that it was in his presence M. De Treville had got so angry
+in the morning, and as a witness of the rebuke was not at all
+pleasant, he pretended not to see him. D'Artagnan, on the other hand,
+full of his plans of conciliation and politeness, approached the young
+man with a profound bow accompanied by a most gracious smile. Aramis
+bowed slightly, but did not smile. Moreover, all four immediately
+broke off their conversation.</p>
+
+<p>D'Artagnan was not so dull as not to see he was not wanted; but he was
+not yet used enough to social customs to know how to extricate himself
+dextrously from his false position, which his generally is who accosts
+people he is little acquainted with, and mingles in a conversation
+which does not concern him. He was mentally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> casting about for the
+least awkward manner of retreat, when he noticed that Aramis had let
+his handkerchief fall and (doubtless by mistake) put his foot on it.
+This seemed a favorable chance to repair his mistake of intrusion: he
+stooped down, and with the most gracious air he could assume, drew the
+handkerchief from under the foot in spite of the efforts made to
+detain it, and holding it out to Aramis, said:</p>
+
+<p>"I believe, sir, this is a handkerchief you would be sorry to lose?"</p>
+
+<p>The handkerchief was in truth richly embroidered, and had a cornet and
+a coat of arms at one corner. Aramis blushed excessively, and snatched
+rather than took the handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! ha!" exclaimed one of the guards, "will you go on saying now,
+most discreet Aramis, that you are not on good terms with Madame de
+Bois-Tracy, when that gracious lady does you the favor of lending you
+her handkerchief!"</p>
+
+<p>Aramis darted at D'Artagnan one of those looks which tell a man that
+he has made a mortal enemy; then assuming his mild air he said:</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken, gentlemen: this handkerchief is not mine, and I can
+not understand why this gentleman has taken it into his head to offer
+it to me rather than to one of you. And as a proof of what I say, here
+is mine in my pocket."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he pulled out his handkerchief, which was also not only a
+very dainty one, and of fine linen (tho linen was then costly), but
+was embroidered and without arms, bearing only a single cipher, the
+owner's.</p>
+
+<p>This time D'Artagnan saw his mistake; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> Aramis's friends were by no
+means convinced, and one of them, addressing the young musketeer with
+pretended gravity, said:</p>
+
+<p>"If things were as you make out, I should feel obliged, my dear
+Aramis, to reclaim it myself; for as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is
+an intimate friend of mine, and I can not allow one of his wife's
+belongings to be exhibited as a trophy."</p>
+
+<p>"You make the demand clumsily," replied Aramis; "and while I
+acknowledge the justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on account of
+the form."</p>
+
+<p>"The fact is," D'Artagnan put in hesitatingly, "I did not actually see
+the handkerchief fall from M. Aramis's pocket. He had his foot on it,
+that's all, and I thought it was his."</p>
+
+<p>"And you were deceived, my dear sir," replied Aramis coldly, very
+little obliged for the explanation; then turning to the guard who had
+profest himself Bois-Tracy's friend&mdash;"Besides," he went on, "I have
+reflected, my dear intimate friend of Bois-Tracy, that I am not less
+devotedly his friend than you can possibly be, so that this
+handkerchief is quite as likely to have fallen from your pocket as
+from mine!"</p>
+
+<p>"On my honor, no!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are about to swear on your honor, and I on my word; and then it
+will be pretty evident that one of us will have lied. Now here,
+Montaran, we will do better than that: let each take a half."</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly fair," cried the other two guardsmen; "the judgment of
+Solomon! Aramis, you are certainly full of wisdom!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They burst into a loud laugh, and as may be supposed, the incident
+bore no other fruit. In a minute or two the conversation stopt, and
+the three guards and the musketeer, after heartily shaking hands,
+separated, the guards going one way and Aramis another.</p>
+
+<p>"Now is the time to make my peace with this gentleman," said
+D'Artagnan to himself, having stood on one side during all the latter
+part of the conversation; and in this good spirit drawing near to
+Aramis, who was going off without paying any attention to him, he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"You will excuse me, I hope."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" interrupted Aramis, "permit me to observe to you, sir, that you
+have not acted in this affair as a man of good breeding ought."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried D'Artagnan, "do you suppose&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that you are not a fool, and that you knew very well, even
+tho you come from Gascony, that people do not stand on handkerchiefs
+for nothing. What the devil! Paris is not paved with linen!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, you do wrong in trying to humiliate me," said D'Artagnan, in
+whom his native pugnacity began to speak louder than his peaceful
+resolutions. "I come from Gascony, it is true; and since you know it,
+there is no need to tell you that Gascons are not very patient, so
+that when they have asked pardon once, even for a folly, they think
+they have done at least as much again as they ought to have done."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, what I say to you about this matter," said Aramis, "is not for
+the sake of hunting a quarrel. Thank Heaven, I am not a
+swash-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>buckler, and being a musketeer only for a while, I only fight
+when I am forced to do so, and always with great reluctance; but this
+time the affair is serious, for here is a lady compromised by you."</p>
+
+<p>"By us, you mean," cried D'Artagnan.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you give me back the handkerchief so awkwardly?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you let it fall so awkwardly?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have said that the handkerchief did not fall from my pocket."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, by saying that you have told two lies, sir; for I saw it fall."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh ho! you take it up that way, do you, Master Gascon? Well, I will
+teach you how to behave yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"And I will send you back to your pulpit, Master Priest. Draw, if you
+please, and instantly&mdash;"....</p>
+
+<p>"Prudence is a virtue useless enough to musketeers, I know, but
+indispensable to churchmen; and as I am only a temporary musketeer, I
+hold it best to be prudent. At two o'clock I shall have the honor of
+expecting you at Treville's. There I will point out the best place and
+time to you."</p>
+
+<p>The two bowed and separated. Aramis went up the street which led to
+the Luxembourg; while D'Artagnan, seeing that the appointed hour was
+coming near, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to himself,
+"I certainly can not hope to come out of these scrapes alive; but if I
+am doomed to be killed, it will be by a royal musketeer."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> From "The Three Musketeers."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="GEORGE_SAND" id="GEORGE_SAND"></a>GEORGE SAND</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Born in France in 1804, died in 1876; her real name Aurore
+Dupin, Baroness Dudevant; entered a convent in Paris in
+1817, remaining until 1820; married in 1822; sought a life
+of independence in 1831 with Jules Sandeau, with whom she
+collaborated in writing; became an advanced Republican,
+active in politics; wrote for newspapers and started a
+newspaper of her own; published "Indiana" in 1831,
+"Consuelo" in 1842; "Elle et Lui" in 1858; "Nanon" in 1872;
+author of many other books.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LELIA_AND_THE_POET" id="LELIA_AND_THE_POET"></a>L&Eacute;LIA AND THE POET<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>"The prophets are crying in the desert to-day, and no voice answers,
+for the world is indifferent and deaf: it lies down and stops its ears
+so as to die in peace. A few scattered groups of weak votaries vainly
+try to rekindle a spark of virtue. As the last remnants of man's moral
+power, they will float for a moment about the abyss, then go and join
+the other wrecks at the bottom of that shoreless sea which will
+swallow up the world."</p>
+
+<p>"O L&eacute;lia, why do you thus despair of those sublime men who aspire to
+bring virtue back to our iron age? Even if I were as doubtful of their
+success as you are, I would not say so. I should fear to commit an
+impious crime."</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p>
+<p>"I admire those men," said L&eacute;lia, "and would like to be the least
+among them. But what will those shepherds bearing a star on their
+brows be able to do before the huge monster of the Apocalypse&mdash;before
+that immense and terrible figure outlined in the foreground of all the
+prophets' pictures? That woman, as pale and beautiful as vice&mdash;that
+great harlot of nations, decked with the wealth of the East, and
+bestriding a hydra belching forth rivers of poison on all human
+pathways&mdash;is Civilization; is humanity demoralized by luxury and
+science; is the torrent of venom which will swallow up all virtue, all
+hope of regeneration."</p>
+
+<p>"O L&eacute;lia!" exclaimed the poet, struck by superstition, "are not you
+that terrible and unhappy fantom? How many times this fear has taken
+possession of my dreams! How many times you have appeared to me as the
+type of the unspeakable agony to which the spirit of inquiry has
+driven man! With your beauty and your sadness, your weariness and your
+skepticism, do you not personify the excess of sorrow produced by the
+abuse of thought? Have you not given up, and as it were prostituted,
+that moral power, so highly developed by what art, poetry, and science
+have done for it, to every new impression and error? Instead of
+clinging faithfully and prudently to the simple creed of your fathers,
+and to the instinctive indifference God has implanted in man for his
+peace and preservation; instead of confining yourself to a pious life
+free from vain show, you have abandoned yourself to all the seductions
+of ambitious philosophy. You have cast yourself into the torrent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> of
+civilization rising to destroy, and which by dashing along too swiftly
+has ruined the scarcely laid foundations of the future. And because
+you have delayed the work of centuries for a few days, you think you
+have shattered the hourglass of Eternity. There is much pride in this
+grief, L&eacute;lia! But God will make this billow of stormy centuries, that
+for him are but a drop in the ocean, float by. The devouring hydra
+will perish for lack of food; and from its world-covering corpse a new
+race will issue, stronger and more patient than the old."</p>
+
+<p>"You see far into the future, St&eacute;nio! You personify Nature for me, and
+are her unspotted child. You have not yet blunted your faculties: you
+believe yourself immortal because you feel yourself young and like
+that untilled valley now blooming in pride and beauty&mdash;never dreaming
+that in a single day the plowshare and the hundred-handed monster
+called industry can tear its bosom to rob it of its treasures; you are
+growing up full of trust and presumption, not foreseeing your coming
+life, which will drag you down under the weight of its errors,
+disfigure you with the false colors of its promises. Wait, wait a few
+years, and you too will say, 'All is passing away!'"</p>
+
+<p>"No, all is not passing away!" said St&eacute;nio. "Look at the sun, and the
+earth, and the beautiful sky, and these green hills; and even that
+ice, winter's fragile edifice, which has withstood the rays of summer
+for centuries. Even so man's frail power will prevail! What matters
+the fall of a few generations? Do you weep for so slight a thing,
+L&eacute;lia? Do you deem it possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> a single idea can die in the universe?
+Will not that imperishable inheritance be found intact in the dust of
+our extinct races, just as the inspirations of art and the discoveries
+of science arise alive each day from the ashes of Pompeii or the tombs
+of Memphis? Oh, what a great and striking proof of intellectual
+immortality! Deep mysteries had been lost in the night of time; the
+world had forgotten its age, and thinking itself still young, was
+alarmed at feeling itself so old. It said as you do, L&eacute;lia: 'I am
+about to end, for I am growing weak, and I was born but a few days
+ago! How few I shall need for dying, since so few were needed for
+living!' But one day human corpses were exhumed from the bosom of
+Egypt&mdash;Egypt that had lived out its period of civilization, and has
+just lived its period of barbarism! Egypt, where the ancient light,
+lost so long, is being rekindled, and a rested and rejuvenated Egypt
+may perhaps soon come and establish herself upon the extinguished
+torch of our own. Egypt, the living image of her mummies sleeping
+under the dust of ages, and now awaking to the broad daylight of
+science in order to reveal the age of the old world to the new! Is
+this not solemn and terrible, L&eacute;lia? Within the dried-up entrails of a
+human corpse the inquisitive glance of our century discovered the
+papyrus, that mysterious and sacred monument of man's eternal
+power&mdash;the still dark but incontrovertible witness of the imposing
+duration of creation. Our eager hand unrolls those perfumed bandages,
+those frail and indissoluble shrouds at which destruction stopt short.
+These bandages that once enfolded a corpse, these manuscripts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> that
+have rested under fleshless ribs in the place once occupied perhaps by
+a soul, are human thought; exprest in the science of signs, and
+transmitted by the help of an art we had lost, but have found again in
+the sepulchers of the East&mdash;the art of preserving the remains of the
+dead from the outrages of corruption&mdash;the greatest power in the
+universe. O L&eacute;lia, deny the youth of the world if you can, when you
+see it stop in artless ignorance before the lessons of the past, and
+begin to live on the forgotten ruins of an unknown world."</p>
+
+<p>"Knowledge is not power," replied L&eacute;lia. "Learning over again is not
+progress; seeing is not living. Who will give us back the power to
+act, and above all, the art of enjoying and retaining? We have gone
+too far forward now to retreat. What was merely repose for eclipsed
+civilizations will be death for our tired-out one; the rejuvenated
+nations of the East will come and intoxicate themselves with the
+poison we have poured on our soil. The bold barbarian drinkers may
+perhaps prolong the orgy of luxury a few hours into the night of time;
+but the venom we shall bequeath them will promptly be mortal for them,
+as it was for us, and all will drop back into blackness....</p>
+
+<p>"In fact, St&eacute;nio, do you not see that the sun is withdrawing from us?
+Is not the earth, wearied in its journey, noticeably drifting toward
+darkness and chaos? Is your blood so young and ardent as not to feel
+the touch of that chill spread like a pall over this planet abandoned
+to Fate, the most powerful of the gods? Oh, the cold! that penetrating
+pain driving sharp<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> needles into every pore. That curst breath that
+withers flowers and burns them like fire; that pain at once physical
+and mental, which invades both soul and body, penetrates to the depths
+of thought, and paralyzes mind as well as blood! Cold&mdash;the sinister
+demon who grazes the universe with his damp wing, and breathes
+pestilence on bewildered nations! Cold, tarnishing everything,
+unrolling its gray and nebulous veil over the sky's rich tints, the
+waters' reflections, the hearts of flowers, and the cheeks of maidens!
+Cold, that casts its white winding-sheet over fields and woods and
+lakes, even over the fur and feathers of animals! Cold, that discolors
+all in the material as well as in the intellectual world; not only the
+coats of bears and hares on the shores of Archangel, but the very
+pleasures of man and the character of his habits in the spots it
+approaches! You surely see that everything is being civilized; that is
+to say, growing cold. The bronzed nations of the torrid zone are
+beginning to open their timid and suspicious hands to the snares of
+our skill; lions and tigers are being tamed, and come from the desert
+to amuse the peoples of the north. Animals which had never been able
+to grow accustomed to our climate, now leave their warm sun without
+dying, to live in domesticity among us, and even forget the proud and
+bitter sorrow which used to kill them when enslaved. It is because
+blood is congealing and growing poorer everywhere, while instinct
+grows and develops. The soul rises and leaves the earth, no longer
+sufficient for her needs."</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> From "L&eacute;lia," which was published in 1833, during an
+eventful period in its author's life. The character of L&eacute;lia was drawn
+from George Sand herself as a personification of human nature at war
+with itself. The original of St&eacute;nio was Alfred de Musset, whose
+intimate friendship with the author is historic.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>END OF VOL. VII.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted
+to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I, by Various, Edited by
+Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. VII (of X)--Continental Europe I
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Henry Cabot Lodge and Francis W. Halsey
+
+Release Date: February 9, 2008 [eBook #24563]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST OF THE WORLD'S CLASSICS,
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE, VOL. VII (OF X)--CONTINENTAL EUROPE I***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joseph R. Hauser, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 24563-h.htm or 24563-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/5/6/24563/24563-h/24563-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/5/6/24563/24563-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BEST
+_of the_
+WORLD'S CLASSICS
+
+RESTRICTED TO PROSE
+
+HENRY CABOT LODGE
+Editor-in-Chief
+
+FRANCIS W. HALSEY
+Associate Editor
+
+With an Introduction, Biographical and Explanatory Notes, etc.
+
+In Ten Volumes
+
+Vol. VII
+
+CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: RABELAIS, VOLTAIRE, HUGO, MONTAIGNE]
+
+
+
+
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+New York and London
+Copyright, 1909, by
+Funk & Wagnalls Company
+
+
+
+
+The Best of the World's Classics
+
+VOL. VII
+
+CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+VOL. VII--CONTINENTAL EUROPE--I
+
+
+EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS
+
+354--1380
+
+
+ST. AURELIUS AUGUSTINE--(Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354; died in 430.)
+
+ Imperial Power for Good and Bad Men.
+
+ (From Book IV, Chapter III, of "De Civitate Dei")
+
+ANICIUS BOETHIUS--(Born about 475, died about 524.)
+
+ The Highest Happiness.
+
+ (From "The Consolations of Philosophy." Translated by Alfred the
+ Great)
+
+ST. THOMAS AQUINAS--(Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225; died in
+1274.)
+
+ A Definition of Happiness.
+
+ (From the "Ethics")
+
+THOMAS A KEMPIS--(Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the
+Netherlands in 1471.)
+
+ Of Eternal Life and of Striving for It.
+
+ (From "The Imitation of Christ")
+
+
+FRANCE
+
+Twelfth Century--1885
+
+
+GEOFFREY DE VILLE-HARDOUIN--(Born between 1150 and 1165; died in 1212.)
+
+ The Sack of Constantinople.
+
+ (From "The Chronicles." Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)
+
+JEAN DE JOINVILLE--(Born in 1224, died in 1317.)
+
+ Greek Fire in Battle.
+
+ (From "The Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France." Translated by Thomas
+ Johnes)
+
+ "AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE."
+
+ (A French romance of the 12th Century, the author's name unknown)
+
+JEAN FROISSART--(Born in 1337, died in 1410.)
+
+ The Battle of Crecy (1346).
+
+ (From the "Chronicles." Translated by Thomas Johnes)
+
+PHILIPPE DE COMINES--(Born in France about 1445, died in 1511.)
+
+ Of the Character of Louis XI
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Andrew R. Scoble)
+
+MARGUERITE D'ANGOULEME--(Born in 1492, died in 1549.)
+
+ Of Husbands Who Are Unfaithful.
+
+ (From the "Heptameron")
+
+FRANCOIS RABELAIS--(Born in 1495, died in 1553.)
+
+I Gargantua in His Childhood.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+II Gargantua's Education.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+III Of the Founding of an Ideal Abbey.
+
+ (From "The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua." Translated by
+ Urquhart and Motteux)
+
+JOHN CALVIN--(Born in 1509, died in 1564.)
+
+ Of Freedom for the Will.
+
+ (From the "Institutes")
+
+JOACHIM DU BELLAY--(Born about 1524, died in 1560.)
+
+ Why Old French Was Not as Rich as Greek and Latin.
+
+ (From the "Defense et Illustration de la Langue Francoise."
+ Translated by Eric Arthur Bell)
+
+MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE--(Born in 1533, died in 1592.)
+
+I A Word to His Readers.
+
+ (From the preface to the "Essays." Translated by John Florio)
+
+II Of Society and Solitude.
+
+ (From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation,
+ revised by W. C. Hazlitt)
+
+III Of His Own Library.
+
+ (From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces." The Cotton translation,
+ revised by W. C. Hazlitt)
+
+IV That the Soul Discharges Her Passions upon False Objects Where
+ True Ones Are Wanting.
+
+ (From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)
+
+V That Men Are Not to Judge of Our Happiness Till After Death.
+
+ (From the essay with that title. The Cotton translation)
+
+RENE DESCARTES--(Born in 1596, died in 1650.)
+
+ Of Material Things and of the Existence of God.
+
+ (From the "Meditations." Translated by John Veitch)
+
+DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD--(Born in France in 1613, died in 1680.)
+
+ Selections from the "Maxims."
+
+ (Translated by Willis Bund and Hain Friswell)
+
+BLAISE PASCAL--(Born in 1623, died in 1662.)
+
+ Of the Prevalence of Self-Love.
+
+ (From the "Thoughts." Translated by C. Kegan Paul)
+
+MADAME DE SEVIGNE--(Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696.)
+
+I Great News from Paris.
+
+ (From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670)
+
+II An Imposing Funeral Described.
+
+ (From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,1672)
+
+ALAIN RENE LE SAGE--(Born in 1668, died in 1747.)
+
+I In the Service of Dr. Sangrado.
+
+ (From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)
+
+II As an Archbishop's Favorite.
+
+ (From "Gil Blas." Translated by Tobias Smollett)
+
+DUC DE SAINT-SIMON--(Born in 1675, died in 1755.)
+
+I The Death of the Dauphin.
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)
+
+II The Public Watching the King and Madame.
+
+ (From the "Memoirs." Translated by Bayle St. John)
+
+BARON DE MONTESQUIEU--(Born in 1689, died in 1755.)
+
+I Of the Causes Which Destroyed Rome.
+
+ (From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans")
+
+II Of the Relation of Laws to Human Beings.
+
+ (From the "Spirit of Laws." Translated by Thomas Nugent)
+
+FRANCOIS AROUET VOLTAIRE--(Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778.)
+
+I Of Bacon's Greatness.
+
+ (From the "Letters on England")
+
+II England's Regard for Men of Letters.
+
+ (From the "Letters on England")
+
+JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU--(Born in 1712, died in 1778.)
+
+I Of Christ and Socrates
+
+II Of the Management of Children.
+
+ (From the "New Heloise")
+
+MADAME DE STAEL--(Born in 1763, died in 1817.)
+
+ Of Napoleon Bonaparte.
+
+ (From "Considerations on the French Revolution")
+
+VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND--(Born in 1768, died in 1848.)
+
+ In an American Forest.
+
+ (From the "Historical Essay on Revolutions")
+
+FRANCOIS GUIZOT--(Born in 1787, died in 1874.)
+
+ Shakespeare as an Example of Civilization.
+
+ (From "Shakespeare and His Times")
+
+ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE--(Born in 1790, died in 1869.)
+
+ Of Mirabeau's Origin and Place in History.
+
+ (From Book I of the "History of the Girondists."
+ Translated by T. Ryde)
+
+LOUIS ADOLPH THIERS--(Born in 1797, died in 1877.)
+
+ The Burning of Moscow.
+
+ (From the "History of the Consulate and the Empire")
+
+HONORE DE BALZAC--(Born in 1799, died in 1850.)
+
+I The Death of Pere Goriot.
+
+ (From the concluding chapter of "Pere Goriot." Translated by Helen
+ Marriage)
+
+II Birotteau's Early Married Life.
+
+ (From "The Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau." Translated by
+ Helen Marriage)
+
+ALFRED DE VIGNY--(Born in 1799, died in 1863.)
+
+ Richelieu's Way with His Master.
+
+ (From "Cinq-Mars; or, The Conspiracy under Louis XIII." Translated by
+ William C. Hazlitt)
+
+VICTOR HUGO--(Born in France in 1802, died in 1885.)
+
+I The Battle of Waterloo.
+
+ (From Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Miserables." Translated
+ by Lascelles Wraxall)
+
+II The Beginnings and Expansions of Paris.
+
+ (From Book III, Chapter II, of "Notre-Dame de Paris")
+
+ALEXANDER DUMAS--(Born in 1802, died in 1870.)
+
+ The Shoulder, the Belt and the Handkerchief.
+
+ (From "The Three Musketeers")
+
+GEORGE SAND--(Born in 1804, died in 1876.)
+
+ Lelia and the Poet.
+
+ (From "Lelia")
+
+
+
+
+
+EARLY CONTINENTAL WRITERS
+
+354 A.D.--1471 A.D.
+
+
+
+
+ST. AURELIUS AUGUSTINE
+
+ Born in Numidia, Africa, in 354 A.D., died in 430; educated
+ at Carthage; taught rhetoric at Carthage; removed to Rome in
+ 383; going thence to Milan in 384, where he became a friend
+ of St. Ambrose; converted from Manicheanism to Christianity
+ by his mother Monica, and baptized by St. Ambrose in 387;
+ made Bishop of Hippo in North Africa in 395; became a
+ champion of orthodoxy and the most celebrated of the fathers
+ of the Latin branch of the Church; his "Confessions"
+ published in 397.
+
+
+
+
+IMPERIAL POWER FOR GOOD AND BAD MEN[1]
+
+
+Let us examine the nature of the spaciousness and continuance of
+empire, for which men give their gods such great thanks; to whom also
+they exhibited plays (that were so filthy both in actors and the
+action) without any offense of honesty. But, first, I would make a
+little inquiry, seeing you can not show such estates to be anyway
+happy, as are in continual wars, being still in terror, trouble, and
+guilt of shedding human blood, tho it be their foes; what reason then
+or what wisdom shall any man show in glorying in the largeness of
+empire, all their joy being but as a glass, bright and brittle, and
+evermore in fear and danger of breaking? To dive the deeper into this
+matter, let us not give the sails of our souls to every air of human
+breath, nor suffer our understanding's eye to be smoked up with the
+fumes of vain words, concerning kingdoms, provinces, nations, or so.
+No, let us take two men, let us imagine the one to be poor, or but of
+a mean estate, the other potent and wealthy; but withal, let my
+wealthy man take with him fears, sorrows, covetousness, suspicion,
+disquiet, contentions,--let these be the books for him to hold in the
+augmentation of his estate, and with all the increase of those cares,
+together with his estate; and let my poor man take with him,
+sufficiency with little, love of kindred, neighbors, friends, joyous
+peace, peaceful religion, soundness of body, sincereness of heart,
+abstinence of diet, chastity of carriage, and security of conscience.
+
+[Footnote 1: From "De Civitate Dei," Book IV, Chapter III, published
+in 426. This work, "as Englisshed" by J. Healey, was published is
+1610.]
+
+Where should a man find any one so sottish as would make a doubt which
+of these to prefer in his choice? Well, then, even as we have done
+with these two men, so let us do with two families, two nations, or
+two kingdoms. Lay them both to the line of equity; which done, and
+duly considered, when it is done, here doth vanity lie bare to the
+view, and there shines felicity. Wherefore it is more convenient that
+such as fear and follow the law of the true God should have the
+swaying of such empires; not so much for themselves, their piety and
+their honesty (God's admired gifts) will suffice them, both to the
+enjoying of true felicity in this life and the attaining of that
+eternal and true felicity in the next. So that here upon earth, the
+rule and regality that is given to the good man does not return him so
+much good as it does to those that are under this his rule and
+regality. But, contrariwise, the government of the wicked harms
+themselves far more than their subjects, for it gives themselves the
+greater liberty to exercise their lusts; but for their subjects, they
+have none but their own iniquities to answer for; for what injury
+soever the unrighteous master does to the righteous servant, it is no
+scourge for his guilt, but a trial of his virtue. And therefore he
+that is good is free, tho he be a slave; and he that is evil, a slave
+tho he be king. Nor is he slave to one man, but that which is worst of
+all, unto as many masters as he affects vices; according to the
+Scriptures, speaking thus hereof: "Of whatsoever a man is overcome, to
+that he is in bondage."
+
+
+
+
+ANICIUS BOETHIUS
+
+ Born in Rome about 475, died about 524; consul in 510 and
+ magister officiorum in the court of Theodoric the Goth; put
+ to death by Theodoric without trial on the charge of treason
+ and magic; his famous work "De Consolatione Philosophiae"
+ probably written while in prison in Pavia; parts of that
+ work translated by Alfred the Great and Chaucer; secured
+ much influence for the works of Aristotle by his
+ translations and commentaries.
+
+
+
+
+THE HIGHEST HAPPINESS[2]
+
+
+When Wisdom had sung this lay he ceased the song and was silent a
+while. Then he began to think deeply in his mind's thought, and spoke
+thus: Every mortal man troubles himself with various and manifold
+anxieties, and yet all desire, through various paths, to come to one
+end; that is, they desire, by different means, to arrive at one
+happiness; that is, to know God! He is the beginning and the end of
+every good, and He is the highest happiness.
+
+[Footnote 2: From "The Consolations of Philosophy." The translation of
+Alfred the Great, modernized. Boethius is not usually classed as a
+Roman author, altho Gibbon said of him that he was "the last Roman
+whom Cato or Cicero could have recognized as his countryman." Chaucer
+made a translation of Boethius, which was printed by Caxton. John
+Walton made a version in 1410, which was printed at a monastery in
+1525. Another early version made by George Coluile was published in
+1556. Several others appeared in the sixteenth century.]
+
+Then said the Mind: This, methinks, must be the highest good, so that
+man should need no other good, nor moreover be solicitous beyond
+that--since he possesses that which is the roof of all other goods;
+for it includes all other goods, and has all of them within it. It
+would not be the highest good if any good were external to it, because
+it would then have to desire some good which itself had not.
+
+Then answered Reason, and said: It is very evident that this is the
+highest happiness, for it is both the roof and floor of all good. What
+is that, then, but the best happiness, which gathers the other
+felicities all within it, and includes, and holds them within it; and
+to it there is a deficiency of none, neither has it need of any; but
+they all come from it, and again all return to it; as all waters come
+from the sea, and again all come to the sea? There is none in the
+little fountain which does not seek the sea, and again, from the sea
+it arrives at the earth, and so it flows gradually through the earth,
+till it again comes to the same fountain that it before flowed from,
+and so again to the sea.
+
+Now this is an example of the true goods which all mortal men desire
+to obtain, tho they by various ways think to arrive at them. For every
+man has natural good in himself, because every man desires to obtain
+the true good; but it is hindered by the transitory goods, because it
+is more prone thereto. For some men think that it is the best
+happiness that a man be so rich that he have need of nothing more; and
+they choose life accordingly. Some men think that this is the highest
+good, that he be among his fellows the most honorable of his fellows,
+and they with all energy seek this. Some think that the supreme good
+is in the highest power. These desire, either for themselves to rule,
+or else to associate themselves in friendship with their rulers. Some
+persuade themselves that it is the best that a man be illustrious and
+celebrated, and have good fame; they therefore seek this both in peace
+and in war. Many reckon it for the greatest good and for the greatest
+happiness, that a man be always blithe in this present life, and
+fulfil all his lusts. Some, indeed, who desire these riches, are
+desirous thereof, because they would have the greater power, that they
+may the more securely enjoy these worldly lusts, and also the riches.
+Many there are of those who desire power because they would gather
+overmuch money; or, again, they are desirous to spread the celebrity
+of their name.
+
+On account of such and other like frail and perishable advantages, the
+thought of every human mind is troubled with solicitude and with
+anxiety. It then imagines that it has obtained some exalted goods when
+it has won the flattery of the people; and methinks that it has bought
+a very false greatness. Some with much anxiety seek wives, that
+thereby they may, above all things, have children, and also live
+happily. True friends, then, I say, are the most precious things of
+all these worldly felicities. They are not, indeed, to be reckoned as
+worldly goods, but as divine; for deceitful fortune does not produce
+them, but God, who naturally formed them as relations. For of every
+other thing in this world man is desirous, either that he may through
+it attain to power, or else some worldly lust; except of the true
+friend, whom he loves sometimes for affection and for fidelity, tho
+he expect to himself no other rewards. Nature joins and cements
+friends together with inseparable love. But with these worldly goods,
+and with this present wealth, men make oftener enemies than friends.
+By these and by many such things it may be evident to all men that all
+the bodily goods are inferior to the faculties of the soul.
+
+We indeed think that a man is the stronger because he is great in his
+body. The fairness, moreover, and the vigor of the body, rejoices and
+delights the man, and health makes him cheerful. In all these bodily
+felicities, men seek simple happiness, as it seems to them. For
+whatsoever every man chiefly loves above all other things, that he
+persuades himself is best for him, and that is his highest good. When,
+therefore, he has acquired that, he imagines that he may be very
+happy. I do not deny that these goods and this happiness are the
+highest good of this present life. For every man considers that thing
+best which he chiefly loves above other things; and therefore he
+persuades himself that he is very happy if he can obtain what he then
+most desires. Is not now clearly enough shown to thee the form of the
+false goods, that is, then, possessions, dignity, and power, and
+glory, and pleasure? Concerning pleasure Epicurus the philosopher
+said, when he inquired concerning all those other goods which we
+before mentioned; then said he that pleasure was the highest good,
+because all the other goods which we before mentioned gratify the mind
+and delight it, but pleasure alone chiefly gratifies the body.
+
+But we will still speak concerning the nature of men, and concerning
+their pursuits. Tho, then, their mind and their nature be now dimmed,
+and they are by that fall sunk down to evil, and thither inclined, yet
+they are desirous, so far as they can and may, of the highest good. As
+a drunken man knows that he should go to his house and to his rest,
+and yet is not able to find the way thither, so is it also with the
+mind when it is weighed down by the anxieties of this world. It is
+sometimes intoxicated and misled by them, so far that it can not
+rightly find out good. Nor yet does it appear to those men that they
+at all err, who are desirous to obtain this, that they need labor
+after nothing more. But they think that they are able to collect
+together all these goods, so that none may be excluded from the
+number. They therefore know no other good than the collecting of all
+the most precious things into their power that they may have need of
+nothing besides them. But there is no one that has not need of some
+addition, except God alone. He has of His own enough, nor has He need
+of anything but that which He has in Himself.
+
+Dost thou think, however, that they foolishly imagine that that thing
+is best deserving of all estimation which they may consider most
+desirable? No, no. I know that it is not to be despised. How can that
+be evil which the mind of every man considers to be good, and strives
+after, and desires to obtain? No, it is not evil; it is the highest
+good. Why is not power to be reckoned one of the highest goods of this
+present life? Is that to be esteemed vain and useless which is the
+most useful of all those worldly things, that is, power? Is good fame
+and renown to be accounted nothing? No, no. It is not fit that any
+one account it nothing; for every man thinks that best which he most
+loves. Do we not know that no anxiety, or difficulties, or trouble, or
+pain, or sorrow, is happiness? What more, then, need we say about
+these felicities? Does not every man know what they are, and also know
+that they are the highest good? And yet almost every man seeks in very
+little things the best felicities; because he thinks that he may have
+them all if he have that which he then chiefly wishes to obtain. This
+is, then, what they chiefly wish to obtain, wealth, and dignity, and
+authority, and this world's glory, and ostentation, and worldly lust.
+Of all this they are desirous because they think that, through these
+things, they may obtain: that there be not to them a deficiency of
+anything wished; neither of dignity, nor of power, nor of renown, nor
+of bliss. They wish for all this, and they do well that they desire
+it, tho they seek it variously. By these things we may clearly
+perceive that every man is desirous of this, that, he may obtain the
+highest good, if they were able to discover it, or knew how to seek it
+rightly. But they do not seek it in the most right way. It is not of
+this world.
+
+
+
+
+ST. THOMAS AQUINAS
+
+ Born near Aquino, Italy, probably in 1225, died in 1274;
+ entered the Dominican order; studied at Cologne under
+ Albertus Magnus; taught at Cologne, Paris, Rome and Bologna;
+ his chief work the "Summa Theologiae"; his complete writings
+ collected in 1787.
+
+
+
+
+A DEFINITION OF HAPPINESS[3]
+
+
+The word end has two meanings. In one meaning it stands for the thing
+itself which we desire to gain: thus the miser's end is money. In
+another meaning it stands for the near attainment, or possession, or
+use, or enjoyment of the thing desired, as if one should say that the
+possession of money is the miser's end, or the enjoyment of something
+pleasant the end of the sensualist. In the first meaning of the word,
+therefore, the end of man is the Uncreated Good, namely God, who alone
+of His infinite goodness can perfectly satisfy the will of man. But
+according to the second meaning, the last end of man is something
+created, existing in himself, which is nothing else than the
+attainment or enjoyment of the last end. Now the last end is called
+happiness. If therefore the happiness of a man is considered in its
+cause or object, in that way it is something uncreated; but if it is
+considered in essence, in that way happiness is a created thing.
+
+[Footnote 3: From the "Ethics." The complete works of Aquinas were
+published in 1787; but a new and notable edition was compiled in 1883
+under the intimate patronage of Pope Leo XIII, to whom is given credit
+for a modern revival of interest in his writings.]
+
+Happiness is said to be the sovereign good of man, because it is the
+attainment or enjoyment of the sovereign good. So far as the happiness
+of man is something created, existing in the man himself, we must say
+that the happiness of man is an act. For happiness is the last
+perfection of man. But everything is perfect so far as it is in act;
+for potentiality without actuality is imperfect. Happiness, therefore,
+must consist in the last and crowning act of man. But it is manifest
+that activity is the last and crowning act of an active being; whence
+also it is called by the philosopher "the second act." And hence it is
+that each thing is said to be for the sake of its activity. It needs
+must be therefore that the happiness of man is a certain activity.
+
+Life has two meanings. One way it means the very being of the living,
+and in that way happiness is not life; for of God alone can it be said
+that His own being is His happiness. In another way life is taken to
+mean the activity on the part of the living thing by which activity
+the principle of life is reduced to act. Thus we speak of an active or
+contemplative life, or of a life of pleasure; and in this way the last
+end is called life everlasting, as is clear from the text: "This is
+life everlasting, that they know Thee, the only true God."
+
+By the definition of Boethius, that happiness is "a state made perfect
+by the aggregate sum of all things good," nothing else is meant than
+that the happy man is in a state of perfect good. But Aristotle has
+exprest the proper essence of happiness, showing by what it is that
+man is constituted in such a state, namely, by a certain activity.
+
+Action is two-fold. There is one variety that proceeds from the agent
+to exterior matter, as the action of cutting and burning, and such an
+activity can not be happiness, for such activity is not an act and
+perfection of the agent, but rather of the patient. There is another
+action immanent, or remaining in the agent himself, as feeling,
+understanding, and willing. Such action is a perfection and act of the
+agent, and an activity of this sort may possibly be happiness.
+
+Since happiness means some manner of final perfection, happiness must
+have different meanings according to the different grades of
+perfection that there are attainable by different beings capable of
+happiness. In God is happiness by essence, because His very being is
+His activity, because He does not enjoy any other thing than Himself.
+In the angels final perfection is by way of a certain activity,
+whereby they are united to the uncreated good; and this activity is in
+them one and everlasting. In men, in the state of the present life,
+final perfection is by way of an activity whereby they are united to
+God. But this activity can not be everlasting or continuous, and by
+consequence it is not one, because an act is multiplied by
+interruption; and, therefore, in this state of the present life,
+perfect happiness is not to be had by man.
+
+Hence the philosopher, placing the happiness of man in this life, says
+that it is imperfect, and after much discussion he comes to this
+conclusion: "We call them happy, so far as happiness can be
+predicated of men." But we have a promise from God of perfect
+happiness, when we shall be "like the angels in heaven." As regards
+this perfect happiness, the objection drops, because in this state of
+happiness the mind of man is united to God by one continuous and
+everlasting activity. But in the present life, so far as we fall short
+of the unity and continuity of such an activity, so much do we lose of
+the perfection of happiness. There is, however, granted us a certain
+participation in happiness, and the more continuous and undivided the
+activity can be the more will it come up to the idea of happiness. And
+therefore in the active life, which is busied with many things, there
+is less of the essence of happiness than in the contemplative life,
+which is busy with the one occupation of the contemplation of truth.
+
+
+
+
+THOMAS A KEMPIS
+
+ Born in Rhenish Prussia about 1380, died in the Netherlands
+ in 1471; his real name Thomas Hammerken; entered an
+ Augustinian convent near Zwolle in 1407; became sub-prior of
+ the convent in 1423 and again in 1447; generally accepted as
+ the author of "The Imitation of Christ."
+
+
+
+
+OF ETERNAL LIFE AND OF STRIVING FOR IT[4]
+
+
+Son, when thou perceivest the desire of eternal bliss to be infused
+into thee from above, and thou wouldst fain go out of the tabernacle
+of this body, that thou mightest contemplate My brightness without any
+shadow of change--enlarge thy heart, and receive this holy inspiration
+with thy whole desire.
+
+[Footnote 4: From "The Imitation of Christ." Altho commonly ascribed
+to Thomas a Kempis, there has been much controversy as to the real
+authorship of this famous work. Many early editions bear the name of
+Thomas, including one of the year 1471, which is sometimes thought to
+be the first. As against his authorship it is contended that he was a
+professional copyist, and that the use of his name in the first
+edition conformed to a custom that belonged more to a transcriber than
+to an author. One of the earliest English versions of Thomas a Kempis
+was made by Wyllyam Atkynson and printed by Wykyns de Worde in 1502. A
+translation by Edward Hake appeared in 1567. Many other early English
+editions are known.]
+
+Return the greatest thanks to the Supreme Goodness, which dealeth so
+condescendingly with thee, mercifully visiteth thee, ardently inciteth
+thee, and powerfully raiseth thee up, lest by thy own weight thou
+fall down to the things of earth.
+
+For it is not by thy own thoughtfulness or endeavor that thou
+receivest this, but by the mere condescension of heavenly grace and
+divine regard; that so thou mayest advance in virtues and greater
+humility, and prepare thyself for future conflicts, and labor with the
+whole affection of thy heart to keep close to Me, and serve Me with a
+fervent will.
+
+Son, the fire often burneth, but the flame ascendeth not without
+smoke.
+
+And so the desires of some are on fire after heavenly things, and yet
+they are not free from the temptation of carnal affection.
+
+Therefore is it not altogether purely for God's honor that they act,
+when they so earnestly petition Him.
+
+Such also is oftentimes thy desire, which thou hast profest to be so
+importunate.
+
+For that is not pure and perfect which, is alloyed with self-interest.
+
+Ask not that which is pleasant and convenient, but that which is
+acceptable to Me and My honor; for if thou judgest rightly, thou
+oughtest to prefer and to follow My appointment rather than thine own
+desire or any other desirable thing.
+
+I know thy desire, and I have often heard thy groanings.
+
+Thou wouldst wish to be already in the liberty of the glory of the
+children of God.
+
+Now doth the eternal dwelling, and the heavenly country full of
+festivity, delight thee.
+
+But that hour is not yet come; for there is yet another time, a time
+of war, a time of labor and of probation.
+
+Thou desirest to be filled with the Sovereign Good, but thou canst not
+at present attain to it.
+
+I am He: wait for Me, saith the Lord, until the kingdom of God come.
+
+Thou hast yet to be tried upon earth and exercised in many things.
+
+Consolation shall sometimes be given thee, but abundant satiety shall
+not be granted thee.
+
+Take courage, therefore, and be valiant, as well in doing as in
+suffering things repugnant to nature.
+
+Thou must put on the new man, and be changed into another person.
+
+That which thou wouldst not, thou must oftentimes do; and that which
+thou wouldst, thou must leave undone.
+
+What pleaseth others shall prosper, what is pleasing to thee shall not
+succeed.
+
+What others say shall be harkened to; what thou sayest shall be
+reckoned as naught.
+
+Others shall ask, and shall receive; thou shalt ask, and not obtain.
+
+Others shall be great in the esteem of men; about thee nothing shall
+be said.
+
+To others this or that shall be committed; but thou shalt be accounted
+as of no use.
+
+At this nature will sometimes repine, and it will be a great matter if
+thou bear it with silence.
+
+In these, and many such-like things, the faithful servant of the Lord
+is wont to be tried how far he can deny and break himself in all
+things.
+
+There is scarce anything in which thou standest so much in need of
+dying to thyself as in seeing and suffering things that are contrary
+to thy will, and more especially when those things are commanded which
+seem to thee inconvenient and of little use.
+
+And because, being under authority, thou darest not resist the higher
+power, therefore it seemeth to thee hard to walk at the beck of
+another, and wholly to give up thy own opinion.
+
+But consider, son, the fruit of these labors, their speedy
+termination, and their reward exceeding great; and thou wilt not hence
+derive affliction, but the most strengthening consolation in thy
+suffering.
+
+For in regard to that little of thy will which thou now willingly
+forsakest, thou shalt forever have thy will in heaven.
+
+For there thou shalt find all that thou willest, all that thou canst
+desire.
+
+There shall be to thee the possession of every good, without fear of
+losing it.
+
+There thy will, always one with Me, shall not covet any extraneous or
+private thing. There no one shall resist thee, no one complain of
+thee, no one obstruct thee, nothing shall stand in thy way; but every
+desirable good shall be present at the same moment, shall replenish
+all thy affections and satiate them to the full.
+
+There I will give thee glory for the contumely thou hast suffered; a
+garment of praise for thy sorrow; and for having been seated here in
+the lowest place, the throne of My kingdom forever.
+
+There will the fruit of obedience appear, there will the labor of
+penance rejoice, and humble subjection shall be gloriously crowned.
+
+Now, therefore, bow thyself down humbly under the hands of all, and
+heed not who it was that said or commanded this.
+
+But let it be thy great care, that whether thy superior or inferior or
+equal require anything of thee, or hint at anything, thou take all in
+good part, and labor with a sincere will to perform it.
+
+Let one seek this, another that; let this man glory in this thing,
+another in that, and be praised a thousand thousand times: but thou,
+for thy part, rejoice neither in this nor in that, but in the contempt
+of thyself, and in My good pleasure and honor alone.
+
+This is what thou hast to wish for, that whether in life or in death,
+God may be always glorified in thee.
+
+
+
+
+FRANCE
+
+TWELFTH CENTURY--1885
+
+
+
+
+GEOFFREY DE VILLE-HARDOUIN
+
+ Born between 1150 and 1165, died in 1212; marshal of
+ Champagne in 1191; joined the Crusade in 1199 under
+ Theobault III; negotiated successfully with Venice for the
+ transfer of the Crusaders by sea to the Holy Land; followed
+ the Crusade and chronicled all its events from 1198 to 1207.
+
+
+
+
+THE SACK OF CONSTANTINOPLE[5]
+
+(1204)
+
+
+This night passed and the day came which was Thursday morning (13
+April, 1204), and then every one in the camp armed themselves, the
+knights and the soldiers, and each one joined his battle corps. The
+Marquis of Montferrat advanced toward the palace of Bucoleon; and
+having occupied it, determined to spare the lives of all those he
+found therein. There were found there women of the highest rank, and
+of the most honorable character; the sister of the King of France who
+had been an empress; and the sister of the King of Hungary, and other
+women of quality. Of the treasure that there was in the palace, I can
+not speak; for there was so much that it was without end or measure.
+Besides this palace which was surrendered to the Marquis Boniface of
+Montferrat, that of Blachem was surrendered to Henry, brother of Count
+Baldwin of Flanders.
+
+[Footnote 5: From the "Chronicles." This work is important; first, as
+a record, generally accepted as eminently trustworthy, and second, for
+its literary excellence, in which sense it has been held in peculiar
+esteem. George Saintsbury remarks that those chronicles "are by
+universal consent among the most attractive works of the Middle Ages."
+They comprize one of the oldest extant examples of French prose. The
+passage here given was translated for this collection from the old
+French by Eric Arthur Bell. A translation by T. Smith was published in
+1829.
+
+This sack of Constantinople followed what is known as the Latin
+Conquest. More than thirty sieges of the city have occurred. After the
+conquest here referred to Constantinople was occupied by the Latins.
+It was finally wrested from them by Michael Palaeologus. The conquest
+of 1204 was achieved during the Fourth Crusade. By Latin Conquest is
+meant a conquest by Western Christians as against its long-time Greek
+rulers. This conquest was also inspired by the commercial ambition of
+the Venetians, who had long coveted what were believed to be the
+fabulous riches of the city. The Latin Empire survived for fifty-six
+years in a state of almost constant weakness. The conquest had no
+direct relation to the original purpose of the Crusades, which was the
+recovery of Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels.]
+
+The booty that was found here was so great that it can only be
+compared to that which was found in Bucoleon.[6] Each soldier filled
+the room that was assigned to him with plunder and had the treasure
+guarded; and the others who were scattered through the city also had
+their share of spoil. And the booty obtained was so great that it is
+impossible for me to estimate it,--gold and silver and plate and
+precious stones,--rich altar cloths and vestments of silk and robes of
+ermine, and treasure that had been buried under the ground. And truly
+doth testify Geoffrey of Ville-Hardouin, Marshal of Champagne, when he
+says that never in the whole of history had a city yielded so much
+plunder. Every man took as much as he could carry, and there was
+enough for every one.
+
+[Footnote 6: One of the districts into which the city was divided.]
+
+Thus fared the Crusaders and the Venetians, and so great was the joy
+and the honor of the victory that God had given them, that those who
+had been in poverty were rich and living in luxury. Thus was passed
+Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday in the honor and joy which God had
+granted them. And they had good cause to be grateful to our Lord, for
+they had no more than twenty thousand armed men among them all, and by
+the grace of God they had captured four hundred thousand or more, and
+that in the strongest city in the world (that is to say, city of any
+size), and the best fortified.
+
+Then it was announced throughout the whole army by the Marquis
+Boniface of Montferrat, who was head of the army, and by the barons
+and the Doge of Venice, that all the booty should be collected and
+assessed under pain of excommunication. And the places were chosen in
+three churches; and they put over them as guards French and Venetians,
+the most loyal that they could find, and then each man began to bring
+his booty and put it together. Some acted uprightly and others not,
+for covetousness which is the root of all evil, prevented them; but
+the covetous began from this moment to keep things back and our Lord
+began to like them less. Oh God, how loyally they had behaved up to
+that moment, and the Lord God had shown them that in everything He had
+honored and favored them above all other people, and now the righteous
+began to suffer for the wicked.
+
+The plunder and the booty were collected; and you must know that it
+was not all equally divided, for there were a number of those who
+retained a share in spite of the dread of Papal excommunication.
+Whatever was brought to the churches was collected and divided between
+the French and Venetians equally as had been arranged. And you must
+know that the Crusaders, when they had divided, paid on their part
+fifty thousand marks of silver to the Venetians, and as for themselves
+they divided a good hundred thousand among their own people. And do
+you know how it was divided? Each horseman received double the share
+of a foot soldier, and each knight double the share of a horseman. And
+you must know that never did a man, either through his rank and
+prowess receive anything more than had been arranged, unless it was
+stolen.
+
+As for the thefts, those who were convicted of guilt, you must know
+were dealt with summarily and there were enough people hung. The Count
+of St. Paul hung one of his knights with his horse collar round his
+neck, because he had kept something back, and there were a number who
+kept things back, much and little, but this is not known for certain.
+
+You may be assured that the booty was great, for not counting what was
+stolen and the share that fell to the Venetians, a good four hundred
+thousand marks of silver were brought back, and as many as ten
+thousand animals of one kind and another. The plunder of
+Constantinople was divided thus as you have heard.
+
+
+
+
+JEAN DE JOINVILLE
+
+ Born about 1224; died in 1317; attended Louis IX in the
+ Seventh Crusade, spending six years in the East; his
+ "Memoirs of Louis IX," presented by him in 1309 to the great
+ grandson of Louis, and first published in 1547.
+
+
+
+
+GREEK FIRE IN BATTLE[7]
+
+
+Not long after this, the chief of the Turks, before named, crost with
+his army into the island that lies between the Rexi and Damietta
+branches, where our army was encamped, and formed a line of battle,
+extending from one bank of the river to the other. The Count d'Anjou,
+who was on the spot, attacked the Turks, and defeated them so
+completely that they took to flight, and numbers were drowned in each
+of the branches of the Nile.
+
+[Footnote 7: From the "Memoirs of Louis IX, King of France," commonly
+called St. Louis. The passage here given is from Joinville's account
+of a battle between Christians and Saracens, fought near the Damietta
+branch of the Nile in 1240. Mr. Saintsbury remarks that Joinville's
+work "is one of the most circumstantial records we have of medieval
+life and thought." It was translated by Thomas Johnes, of Hafod, and
+is now printed in Bohn's library.]
+
+A large body, however, kept their ground, whom we dared not attack, on
+account of their numerous machines, by which they did us great injury
+with the divers things cast from them. During the attack on the Turks
+by the Count d'Anjou, the Count Guy de Ferrois, who was in his company
+galloped through the Turkish force, attended by his knights, until
+they came to another battalion of Saracens, where they performed
+wonders. But at last he was thrown to the ground with a broken leg,
+and was led back by two of his knights, supporting him by the arms.
+
+You must know there was difficulty in withdrawing the Count d'Anjou
+from this attack, wherein he was frequently in the utmost danger, and
+was ever after greatly honored for it.
+
+Another large body of Turks made an attack on the Count de Poitiers
+and me; but be assured they were very well received, and served in
+like manner. It was well for them that they found their way back by
+which they had come; but they left behind great numbers of slain. We
+returned safely to our camp scarcely having lost any of our men.
+
+One night the Turks brought forward an engine, called by them La
+Perriere, a terrible engine to do mischief, and placed it opposite to
+the chas-chateils, which Sir Walter De Curel and I were guarding by
+night. From this engine they flung such quantities of Greek fire, that
+it was the most horrible sight ever witnessed. When my companion, the
+good Sir Walter, saw this shower of fire, he cried out, "Gentlemen, we
+are all lost without remedy; for should they set fire to our
+chas-chateils we must be burnt; and if we quit our post we are for
+ever dishonored; from which I conclude, that no one can possibly save
+us from this peril but God, our benignant Creator; I therefore advise
+all of you, whenever they throw any of this Greek fire, to cast
+yourselves on your hands and knees, and cry for mercy to our Lord, in
+whom alone resides all power."
+
+As soon, therefore, as the Turks threw their fires, we flung ourselves
+on our hands and knees, as the wise man had advised; and this time
+they fell between our two cats into a hole in front, which our people
+had made to extinguish them; and they were instantly put out by a man
+appointed for that purpose. This Greek fire, in appearance, was like a
+large tun, and its tail was of the length of a long spear; the noise
+which it made was like to thunder; and it seemed a great dragon of
+fire flying through the air, giving so great a light with its flame,
+that we saw in our camp as clearly as in broad day. Thrice this night
+did they throw the fire from La Perriere, and four times from
+cross-bows.
+
+Each time that our good King St. Louis heard them make these
+discharges of fire, he cast himself on the ground, and with extended
+arms and eyes turned to the heavens, cried with a loud voice to our
+Lord, and shedding heavy tears, said "Good Lord God Jesus Christ,
+preserve thou me, and all my people"; and believe me, his sincere
+prayers were of great service to us. At every time the fire fell near
+us, he sent one of his knights to know how we were, and if the fire
+had hurt us. One of the discharges from the Turks fell beside a
+chas-chateil, guarded by the men of the Lord Courtenay, struck the
+bank of the river in front, and ran on the ground toward them, burning
+with flame. One of the knights of this guard instantly came to me,
+crying out, "Help us, my lord, or we are burnt; for there is a long
+train of Greek fire, which the Saracens have discharged, that is
+running straight for our castle."
+
+
+
+
+AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE
+
+ "Aucassin and Nicolette" is the title of a French romance of
+ the thirteenth century, the name of the author being
+ unknown. The only extant manuscript of the story is
+ preserved in the National Library of France. Several
+ translations into English are well known, among them those
+ by Augustus R. MacDonough, F. W. Bourdillon and Andrew Lang.
+
+
+
+
+How the Count Bougart of Valence made war on Count Garin of
+Beaucaire,--war so great, so marvelous, and so mortal that never a day
+dawned but always he was there, by the gates and walls and barriers of
+the town, with a hundred knights, and ten thousand men-at-arms,
+horsemen and footmen: so burned he the count's land, and spoiled his
+country, and slew his men. Now, the Count Garin de Beaucaire was old
+and frail, and his good days were gone over. No heir had he, neither
+son nor daughter, save one young man only; such an one as I shall tell
+you. Aucassin was the name of the damoiseau: fair was he, goodly, and
+great, and featly fashioned of his body and limbs. His hair was
+yellow, in little curls, his eyes blue-gray and laughing, his face
+beautiful and shapely, his nose high and well set, and so richly seen
+was he in all things good, that in him was none evil at all. But so
+suddenly was he overtaken of Love, who is a great master, that he
+would not, of his will, be a knight, nor take arms, nor follow
+tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed. Therefore his father and
+mother said to him:
+
+"Son, go take thine arms, mount thine horse, and hold thy land, and
+help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will they
+keep in battle their lives and lands, and thine and mine."
+
+"Father," answered Aucassin, "what are you saying now? Never may God
+give me aught of my desire, if I be a knight, or mount my horse, or
+face stour and battle wherein knights smite and are smitten again,
+unless thou give me Nicolette, my true love, that I love so well."
+
+"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolette go. A
+slave-girl is she, out of a strange land, and the viscount of this
+town bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath
+reared her and had her christened, and made her his god-daughter, and
+one day will find a young man for her, to win her bread honorably.
+Herein hast thou naught to make nor mend; but if a wife thou wilt
+have, I will give thee the daughter of a king, or a count. There is no
+man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter, thou shall
+have her."
+
+"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so high
+in all the world, that Nicolette, my sweet lady and love, would not
+grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of Germany, or
+Queen of France or England, it were little enough for her; so gentle
+is she and courteous, and debonnaire, and compact of all good
+qualities."
+
+When Count Garin de Beaucaire knew that he would not avail to withdraw
+Aucassin, his son, from the love of Nicolette, he went to the viscount
+of the city, who was his man, and spake to him saying: "Sir Count:
+away with Nicolette, thy daughter in God; curst be the land whence she
+was brought into this country, for by reason of her do I lose
+Aucassin, that will neither be a knight, nor do aught of the things
+that fall to him to be done. And wit ye well," he said, "that if I
+might have her at my will, I would turn her in a fire, and yourself
+might well be sore adread."
+
+"Sir," said the viscount, "this is grievous to me that he comes and
+goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maid at mine own
+charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my daughter in
+God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that should win her
+bread honorably. With this had Aucassin, thy son, naught to make or
+mend. But sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I will send her into
+that land and that country where never will he see her with his eyes."
+
+"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin: "thence might great
+evil come on thee."
+
+So parted they each from the other. Now the viscount was a right rich
+man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an upper
+chamber thereof he had Nicolette placed, with one old woman to keep
+her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine and such,
+things as were needful. Then he had the door sealed, that none might
+come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over against the
+garden, and quite strait, through which came to them a little air....
+
+Aucassin was cast into prison as ye have heard tell, and Nicolette, of
+her part, was in the chamber. Now it was summer-time, the month of
+May, when days are warm, and long, and clear, and the nights still and
+serene. Nicolette lay one night on her bed, and saw the moon shine
+clear through a window, and heard the nightingale sing in the garden,
+and she minded her of Aucassin her friend, whom she loved so well.
+Then fell she to thoughts of Count Garin of Beaucaire, that he hated
+her to death; and therefore deemed she that there she would no longer
+abide, for that, if she were told of, and the count knew where she
+lay, an ill death he would make her die. She saw that the old woman
+was sleeping, who held her company. Then she arose, and clad her in a
+mantle of silk she had by her, very goodly, and took sheets of the bed
+and towels and knotted one to the other, and made therewith a cord as
+long as she might, and knotted it to a pillar in the window, and let
+herself slip down into the garden; then caught up her raiment in both
+hands, behind and before, and kilted up her kirtle, because of the dew
+that she saw lying deep on the grass, and so went on her way down
+through the garden.
+
+Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue-gray and smiling, her
+face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red
+than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth white and small; and
+her breasts so firm that they bore up the folds of her bodice as they
+had been two walnuts; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands
+might have clipt her; and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as
+she went tiptoe, and that bent above her instep, seemed black against
+her feet and ankles, so white was the maiden. She came to the
+postern-gate, and unbarred it, and went out through the streets of
+Beaucaire, keeping always on the shadowy side, for the moon was
+shining right clear, and so wandered she till she came to the tower
+where her lover lay. The tower was flanked with pillars, and she
+cowered under one of them, wrapt in her mantle. Then thrust she her
+head through a crevice of the tower, that was old and worn, and heard
+Aucassin, who was weeping within, and making dole and lament for the
+sweet friend he loved so well. And when she had listened to him some
+time she began to speak....
+
+When Aucassin heard Nicolette say that she would pass into a far
+country, he was all in wrath.
+
+"Fair, sweet friend," quoth he, "thou shalt not go, for then wouldst
+thou be my death. And the first man that saw thee and had the might
+withal, would take thee straightway into his bed to be his leman. And
+once thou camest into a man's bed, and that bed not mine, wit ye well
+that I would not tarry till I had found a knife to pierce my heart and
+slay myself. Nay, verily, wait so long I would not; but would hurl
+myself so far as I might see a wall, or a black stone, and I would
+dash my head against it so mightily that the eyes would start and my
+brain burst. Rather would I die even such a death than know that thou
+hadst lain in a man's bed, and that bed not mine."
+
+"Aucassin," she said, "I trow thou lovest me not as much as thou
+sayest, but I love thee more than thou lovest me."
+
+"Ah, fair, sweet friend," said Aucassin, "it may not be that thou
+shouldest love me even as I love thee. Woman may not love man as man
+loves woman; for a woman's love lies in her eye, and the bud of her
+breast, and her foot's tiptoe, but the love of a man is in his heart
+planted, whence it can never issue forth and pass away."
+
+Now when Aucassin and Nicolette were holding this parley together, the
+town's watchmen were coming down a street, with swords drawn beneath
+their cloaks, for Count Garin had charged them that if they could take
+her, they should slay her. But the sentinel that was on the tower saw
+them coming, and heard them speaking of Nicolette as they went, and
+threatening to slay her.
+
+"God," quoth he, "this were great pity to slay so fair a maid! Right
+great charity it were if I could say aught to her, and they perceive
+it not, and she should be on her guard against them, for if they slay
+her, then were Aucassin, my damoiseau, dead, and that were great
+pity."...
+
+Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after Nicolette,
+and his horse bare him furiously. Think ye not that the thorns him
+spared, nor the briers, nay, not so, but tare his raiment, that scarce
+a knot might be tied with the soundest part thereof, and the blood
+spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, in forty places, or
+thirty, so that behind the Childe men might follow on the track of his
+blood in the grass. But so much he went in thoughts of Nicolette, his
+lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor torment, and all the day hurled
+through the forest in this fashion nor heard no word of her. And when
+he saw vespers draw nigh, he began to weep for that he found her not.
+All down an old road, and grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking
+along the way before him, he saw such an one as I shall tell you. Tall
+was he, and great of growth, ugly and hideous: his head huge, and
+blacker than charcoal, and more than the breadth of a hand between his
+two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big
+nostrils and wide, and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth
+yellow and ugly, and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide,
+bound with cords of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great
+cloak two-fold; and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin
+came unto him, and was afraid when he beheld him.
+
+So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night was
+fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of
+boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, over
+and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be
+seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopt suddenly, and the light
+of the moon fell therein.
+
+"Forsooth!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, and
+this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness of it,
+and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this night
+long."
+
+He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was
+great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right sweet
+friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his shoulder out
+of its place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore; nathless he bore him
+with that force he might, and fastened his horse with the other hand
+to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the
+lodge of boughs. And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the
+stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he
+to speak....
+
+When Nicolette heard Aucassin, she came to him, for she was not far
+away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his neck,
+clipt him and kissed him.
+
+"Fair, sweet friend, welcome be thou!"
+
+"And thou, fair, sweet love, be thou welcome!"
+
+So either kissed and clipt the other, and fair joy was them between.
+
+"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and my
+shoulder wried, but I take no heed of it, nor have no hurt therefrom,
+since I have thee."
+
+Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its place.
+And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought in her
+surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back into its
+place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves green, and
+bound them on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he was all
+healed....
+
+When all they of the court heard her speak thus, that she was daughter
+to the King of Carthage, they knew well that she spake truly; so made
+they great joy of her, and led her to the castle with great honor, as
+a king's daughter. And they would have given her to her lord a king of
+Paynim, but she had no mind to marry. There dwelt she three days or
+four. And she considered by what device she might seek for Aucassin.
+Then she got her a viol, and learned to play on it; till they would
+have married her one day to a rich king of Paynim, and she stole
+forth by night, and came to the seaport, and dwelt with a poor woman
+thereby. Then took she a certain herb, and therewith smeared her head
+and her face, till she was all brown and stained. And she had a coat,
+and mantle, and smock, and breeches made, and attired herself as if
+she had been a minstrel. So took she the viol and went to a mariner,
+and so wrought on him that he took her aboard his vessel. Then hoisted
+they sail, and fared on the high seas even till they came to the land
+of Provence. And Nicolette went forth and took the viol, and went
+playing through all the country, even till she came to the castle of
+Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.
+
+
+
+
+JEAN FROISSART
+
+ Born in France in 1337, died in 1410; went to England in
+ 1360 by invitation of Queen Philippa, a French woman;
+ visited Scotland in 1365 and Italy in 1368, where he met
+ Petrarch, and Chaucer; published his "Chronicles," covering
+ events from 1325 until about 1400, at the close of the
+ fifteenth century, the same being one of the first books
+ printed from movable types; the modern edition comprizes
+ twenty-five volumes.
+
+
+
+
+THE BATTLE OF CRECY[8]
+
+(1346)
+
+
+The Englishmen, who were in three battles lying on the ground to rest
+them, as soon as they saw the Frenchmen approach, they rose upon their
+feet fair and easily without any haste, and arranged their battles.
+The first, which was the Prince's battle, the archers there stood in
+manner of a herse and the men of arms in the bottom of the battle. The
+Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Arundel with the second battle
+were on a wing in good order, ready to comfort the Prince's battle, if
+need were.
+
+[Footnote 8: The field of Crecy lies about thirty miles northwest of
+Amiens, in France. The English under Edward III, numbering about
+40,000 men, here defeated the French under Philip VI, numbering 80,000
+men, the French loss being commonly placed at 30,000.
+
+Of the merits of Froissart, only one opinion has prevailed. He drew a
+faithful and vivid picture of events which in the main were personally
+known to him. "No more graphic account exists of any age," says one
+writer. Froissart was first translated into English in 1525 by
+Bourchier, Lord Berners, That translation was superseded later by
+others. In 1802-1805 Thomas Johnes made another translation, which has
+since been the one chiefly read.]
+
+The lords and knights of France came not to the assembly together in
+good order, for some came before and some came after, in such haste
+and evil order that one of them did trouble another. When the French
+King saw the Englishmen his blood changed, and said to his marshals,
+"Make the Genoways go on before, and begin the battle, in the name of
+God and St. Denis." There were of the Genoways' cross-bows about a
+fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going afoot that day a six
+leagues armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their
+constables, "We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not
+in the case to do any great deed of arms: we have more need of rest."
+These words came to the Earl of Alencon, who said, "A man is well at
+ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail
+now at most need." Also the same season there fell a great rain and a
+clipse with a terrible thunder, and before the rain there came flying
+over both battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest
+coming.
+
+Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and
+bright, the which was right in the Frenchmen's eyen and on the
+Englishmen's backs. When the Genoways were assembled together and
+began to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the
+Englishmen, but they stood still and stirred not for all that; then
+the Genoways again the second time made another leap and a fell cry,
+and stept forward a little, and the Englishmen removed not one foot;
+thirdly, again they leapt and cried, and went forth till they came
+within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the
+English archers stept forth one pace and let fly their arrows so
+wholly and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoways felt the
+arrows piercing through heads, arms, and breasts, many of them cast
+down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings and returned
+discomfited. When the French King saw them fly away, he said, "Slay
+these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason."
+
+Then ye should have seen the men of arms dash in among them and killed
+a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas
+they saw thickest press the sharp arrows ran into the men of arms and
+into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, among the Genoways,
+and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was
+so thick that one overthrew another. And also among the Englishmen
+there were certain rascals that went afoot with great knives, and they
+went in among the men of arms and slew and murdered many as they lay
+on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires; whereof the
+King of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been
+taken prisoners.
+
+The valiant King of Bohemia called Charles of Luxembourg, son to the
+noble Emperor Henry of Luxembourg, for all that he was nigh blind,
+when he understood the order of the battle, he said to them about him,
+"Where is the Lord Charles my son?" His men said, "Sir, we can not
+tell; we think he be fighting." Then he said, "Sirs, ye are my men, my
+companions and friends in this journey: I require you bring me so far
+forward that I may strike one stroke with my sword." They said they
+would do his commandment, and to the intent that they should not lose
+him in the press, they tied all their reins of their bridles each to
+other and set the King before to accomplish his desire, and so they
+went on their enemies. The Lord Charles of Bohemia his son, who wrote
+himself King of Almaine and bare the arms, he came in good order to
+the battle; but when he saw that the matter went awry on their party,
+he departed, I can not tell you which way. The King his father was so
+far forward that he strake a stroke with his sword, yea, and more than
+four, and fought valiantly, and so did his company; and they
+adventured themselves so forward that they were there all slain, and
+the next day they were found in the place about the King, and all
+their horses tied each to other.
+
+The Earl of Alencon came to the battle right ordinately and fought
+with the Englishmen, and the Earl of Flanders also on his part. These
+two lords with their companies coasted the English archers and came to
+the Prince's battle, and there fought valiantly long. The French King
+would fain have come thither, when he saw their banners, but there was
+a great hedge of archers before him. The same day the French King had
+given a great black courser to Sir John of Hainault, and he made the
+Lord Thierry of Senzeille to ride on him and to bear his banner. The
+same horse took the bridle in the teeth and brought him through all
+the currours of the Englishmen, and as he would have returned again,
+he fell in a great dike and was sore hurt, and had been there dead,
+and his page had not been, who followed him through all the battles
+and saw where his master lay in the dike, and had none other let but
+for his horse; for the Englishmen would not issue out of their battle
+for taking of any prisoner. Then the page alighted and relieved his
+master: then he went not back again the same way that they came; there
+was too many in his way.
+
+This battle between Broye and Crecy this Saturday was right cruel and
+fell, and many a feat of arms done that came not to my knowledge. In
+the night divers knights and squires lost their masters, and sometime
+came on the Englishmen, who received them in such wise that they were
+ever nigh slain; for there was none taken to mercy nor to ransom, for
+so the Englishmen were determined.
+
+In the morning the day of the battle certain Frenchmen and Almains
+perforce opened the archers of the Prince's battle, and came and
+fought with the men of arms hand to hand. Then the second battle of
+the Englishmen came to succor the Prince's battle, the which was time,
+for they had as then much ado; and they with the Prince sent a
+messenger to the King, who was on a little windmill hill. Then the
+knight said to the King, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick and the Earl of
+Oxford, Sir Raynold Cobham and other, such as be about the Prince your
+son, are fiercely fought withal and are sore handled; wherefore they
+desire you that you and your battle will come and aid them; for if the
+Frenchmen increase, as they doubt they will, your son and they shall
+have much ado." Then the King said, "Is my son dead, or hurt, or on
+the earth felled?" "No, sir," quoth the knight, "but he is hardly
+matched; wherefore he hath need of your aid." "Well," said the King,
+"return to him and to them that sent you hither, and say to them that
+they send no more to me for any adventure that falleth, as long as my
+son is alive: and also say to them that they suffer him this day to
+win his spurs; for if God be pleased, I will this journey be his and
+the honor thereof, and to them that be about him." Then the knight
+returned again to them and shewed the King's words, the which, greatly
+encouraged them, and repined in that they had sent to the King as they
+did.
+
+Sir Godfrey of Harcourt would gladly that the Earl of Harcourt, his
+brother, might have been saved; for he heard say by them that saw his
+banner how that he was there in the field on the French party: but Sir
+Godfrey could not come to him betimes, for he was slain or he could
+come at him, and so was also the Earl of Aumale his nephew. In another
+place the Earl of Alencon and the Earl of Flanders fought valiantly,
+every lord under his own banner; but finally they could not resist
+against the puissance of the Englishmen, and so there they were also
+slain, and divers other knights and squires. Also the Earl Louis of
+Blois, nephew to the French King, and the Duke of Lorraine, fought
+under their banners; but at last they were closed in among a company
+of Englishmen and Welshmen, and there were slain for all their
+prowess. Also there was slain the Earl of Auxerre, the Earl of
+Saint-Pol, and many other.
+
+In the evening the French King, who had left about him no more than a
+threescore persons, one and other, whereof Sir John of Hainault was
+one, who had remounted once the King, for his horse was slain with an
+arrow, then he said to the King, "Sir, depart hence, for it is time;
+lose not yourself willfully: if ye have loss at this time, ye shall
+recover it again another season." And so he took the King's horse by
+the bridle and led him away in a manner perforce. Then the King rode
+till he came to the castle of Broye. The gate was closed, because it
+was by that time dark: then the King called the captain, who came to
+the walls and said, "Who is that calleth there this time of night?"
+Then the King said, "Open your gate quickly, for this is the fortune
+of France." The captain knew then it was the King, and opened the gate
+and let down the bridge. Then the King entered, and he had with him
+but five barons, Sir John of Hainault, Sir Charles of Montmorency, the
+Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord d'Aubigny, and the Lord of Montsault. The
+King would not tarry there, but drank and departed thence about
+midnight, and so rode by such guides as knew the country till he came
+in the morning to Amiens, and there he rested.
+
+This Saturday the Englishmen never departed from their battles for
+chasing of any man, but kept still their field, and ever defended
+themselves against all such as came to assail them This battle ended
+about evensong time.
+
+
+
+
+PHILIPPE DE COMINES
+
+ Born in France about 1445, died in 1511; after serving
+ Charles the Bold, went over to Louis XI, in whose household
+ he was a confidant and adviser; arrested on political
+ charges in 1486 and imprisoned more than two years; arrested
+ later by Charles VIII and exiled for ten years; returning to
+ court, he fell into disgrace, went into retirement and wrote
+ his "Memoirs," the first series covering the history of
+ France between 1464 and 1483, the second, the period from
+ 1494 to 1498.
+
+
+
+
+OF THE CHARACTER OF LOUIS XI[9]
+
+
+I have seen many deceptions in this world, especially in servants
+toward their masters; and I have always found that proud and stately
+princes who will hear but few, are more liable to be imposed upon than
+those who are open and accessible: but of all the princes that I ever
+knew, the wisest and most dexterous to extricate himself out of any
+danger or difficulty in time of adversity was our master King Louis
+XI. He was the humblest in his conversation and habit, and the most
+painful and indefatigable to win over any man to his side that he
+thought capable of doing him either mischief or service: tho he was
+often refused, he would never give over a man that he wished to gain,
+but still prest and continued his insinuations, promising him largely,
+and presenting him with such sums and honors as he knew would gratify
+his ambition; and for such as he had discarded in time of peace and
+prosperity, he paid dear (when he had occasion for them) to recover
+them again; but when he had once reconciled them, he retained no
+enmity toward them for what has passed, but employed them freely for
+the future. He was naturally kind and indulgent to persons of mean
+estate, and hostile to all great men who had no need of him.
+
+[Footnote 9: From the "Memoirs." Louis reigned from 1461 to 1483. It
+was he, more than any other king, who represt the power of the feudal
+princes and consolidated their territories under the French monarchy.
+
+Comines has been called "the father of modern history." Hallam says
+his work "almost makes an epoch in historical literature"; while
+Sainte-Beuve has declared that from it "all political history takes
+its rise." Comines was translated into English by T. Banett in 1596.
+The best-known modern translation is the one in Bohn's Library, made
+by Andrew R. Scoble.]
+
+Never prince was so conversable nor so inquisitive as he, for his
+desire was to know everybody he could; and indeed he knew all persons
+of any authority or worth in England, Spain, Portugal, and Italy, in
+the territories of the Dukes of Burgundy and Bretagne, and among his
+own subjects: and by those qualities he preserved the crown upon his
+head, which was in much danger by the enemies he had created to
+himself upon his accession to the throne.
+
+But above all, his great bounty and liberality did him the greatest
+service: and yet, as he behaved himself wisely in time of distress, so
+when he thought himself a little out of danger, tho it were but by a
+truce, he would disoblige the servants and officers of his court by
+mean and petty ways which were little to his advantage; and as for
+peace, he could hardly endure the thoughts of it. He spoke slightingly
+of most people, and rather before their faces than behind their
+backs; unless he was afraid of them, and of that sort there were a
+great many, for he was naturally somewhat timorous. When he had done
+himself any prejudice by his talk, or was apprehensive he should do
+so, and wished to make amends, he would say to the person whom he had
+disobliged, "I am sensible my tongue has done me a good deal of
+mischief; but on the other hand, it has sometimes done me much good:
+however, it is but reason I should make some reparation for the
+injury." And he never used this kind of apologies to any person but he
+granted some favor to the person to whom he made it, and it was always
+of considerable amount.
+
+It is certainly a great blessing from God upon any prince to have
+experienced adversity as well as prosperity, good as well as evil, and
+especially if the good outweighs the evil, as it did in the King our
+master. I am of opinion that the troubles he was involved in in his
+youth, when he fled from his father and resided six years together
+with Philip, Duke of Burgundy, were of great service to him; for there
+he learned to be complaisant to such as he had occasion to use, which
+was no slight advantage of adversity. As soon as he found himself a
+powerful and crowned king, his mind was wholly bent upon revenge; but
+he quickly found the inconvenience of this, repented by degrees of his
+indiscretion, and made sufficient reparation for his folly and error
+by regaining those he had injured. Besides, I am very confident that
+if his education had not been different from the usual education of
+such nobles as I have seen in France, he could not so easily have
+worked himself out of his troubles: for they are brought up to
+nothing but to make themselves ridiculous, both in their clothes and
+discourse; they have no knowledge of letters; no wise man is suffered
+to come near them, to improve their understandings; they have
+governors who manage their business, but they do nothing themselves:
+nay, there are some nobles who tho they have an income of thirteen
+livres, will take pride to bid you "Go to my servants and let them
+answer you," thinking by such speeches to imitate the state and
+grandeur of a prince; and I have seen their servants take great
+advantage of them, giving them to understand they were fools; and if
+afterward they came to apply their minds to business and attempted to
+manage their own affairs, they began so late they could make nothing
+of it. And it is certain that all those who have performed any great
+or memorable action worthy to be recorded in history, began always in
+their youth; and this is to be attributed to the method of their
+education, or some particular blessing of God....
+
+Of all diversions he loved hunting and hawking in their seasons; but
+his chief delight was in dogs. In hunting, his eagerness and pain were
+equal to his pleasure, for his chase was the stag, which he always ran
+down. He rose very early in the morning, rode sometimes a great
+distance, and would not leave his sport, let the weather be never so
+bad; and when he came home at night he was often very weary, and
+generally in a violent passion with some of his courtiers or huntsmen;
+for hunting is a sport not always to be managed according to the
+master's direction; yet in the opinion of most people, he understood
+it as well as any prince of his time. He was continually at these
+sports, lodging in the country villages to which his recreations led
+him, till he was interrupted by business; for during the most part of
+the summer there was constantly war between him and Charles, Duke of
+Burgundy, and in the winter they made truces; so that he had but a
+little time during the whole year to spend in pleasure, and even then
+the fatigues he underwent were excessive. When his body was at rest
+his mind was at work, for he had affairs in several places at once,
+and would concern himself as much in those of his neighbors as in his
+own; putting officers of his own over all the great families, and
+endeavoring to divide their authority as much as possible. When he was
+at war he labored for a peace or a truce, and when he had obtained it
+he was impatient for war again. He troubled himself with many trifles
+in his government which he had better have left alone: but it was his
+temper, and he could not help it; besides, he had a prodigious memory,
+and he forgot nothing, but knew everybody, as well in other countries
+as in his own.
+
+And in truth he seemed better fitted to rule a world than to govern a
+single kingdom. I speak not of his minority, for then I was not with
+him; but when he was eleven years he was, by the advice of some of the
+nobility and others of his kingdom, embroiled in a war with his
+father, Charles VII, which lasted not long, and was called the
+Praguerie. When he was arrived at man's estate he was married, much
+against his inclination, to the King of Scotland's daughter; and he
+regretted her existence during the whole course of her life.
+Afterward, by reason of the broils and factions in his father's court,
+he retired into Dauphiny (which was his own), whither many persons of
+quality followed him, and indeed more than he could entertain. During
+his residence in Dauphiny he married the Duke of Savoy's daughter, and
+not long after he had great disputes with his father-in-law, and a
+terrible war was begun between them.
+
+His father, King Charles VII, seeing his son attended by so many good
+officers and raising men at his pleasure, resolved to go in person
+against him with a considerable body of forces, in order to disperse
+them. While he was upon his march he put out proclamations, requiring
+them all as his subjects, under great penalties, to repair to him; and
+many obeyed, to the great displeasure of the Dauphin, who finding his
+father incensed, tho he was strong enough to resist, resolved to
+retire and leave that country to him; and accordingly he removed with
+but a slender retinue into Burgundy to Duke Philip's court, who
+received him honorably, furnished him nobly, and maintained him and
+his principal servants by way of pensions; and to the rest he gave
+presents as he saw occasion during the whole time of their residence
+there. However, the Dauphin entertained so many at his own expense
+that his money often failed, to his great disgust and mortification;
+for he was forced to borrow, or his people would have forsaken him;
+which is certainly a great affliction to a prince who was utterly
+unaccustomed to those straits. So that during his residence at the
+court of Burgundy he had his anxieties, for he was constrained to
+cajole the duke and his ministers, lest they should think he was too
+burdensome and had laid too long upon their hands; for he had been
+with them six years, and his father, King Charles, was constantly
+pressing and soliciting the Duke of Burgundy, by his ambassadors,
+either to deliver him up to him or to banish him out of his dominions.
+And this, you may believe, gave the Dauphin some uneasy thoughts and
+would not suffer him to be idle. In which season of his life, then,
+was it that he may be said to have enjoyed himself? I believe from his
+infancy and innocence to his death, his whole life was nothing but one
+continued scene of troubles and fatigues; and I am of opinion that if
+all the days of his life were computed in which his joys and pleasures
+outweighed his pain and trouble, they would be found so few that there
+would be twenty mournful ones to one pleasant.
+
+
+
+
+MARGUERITE D'ANGOULEME
+
+ Born in France in 1492, died in 1549; sister of Francis I;
+ married in 1509 Due d'Alencon, and later Henri d'Albret,
+ King of Navarre; assumed the direction of government after
+ the death of the King in 1554; wrote poems and letters, the
+ latter published in 1841-42; her "Heptameron" modeled on the
+ "Decameron" of Boccaccio, published in 1558 after her death,
+ its authorship perhaps collaborative.
+
+
+
+
+OF HUSBANDS WHO ARE UNFAITHFUL[10]
+
+
+A little company of five ladies and five noble gentlemen have been
+interrupted in their travels by heavy rains and great floods, and find
+themselves together in a hospitable abbey. They while away the time as
+best they can, and the second day Parlamente says to the old Lady
+Oisille, "Madame, I wonder that you who have so much experience do not
+think of some pastime to sweeten the gloom that our long delay here
+causes us." The other ladies echo her wishes, and all the gentlemen
+agree with them, and beg the Lady Oisille to be pleased to direct how
+they shall amuse themselves. She answers them:
+
+[Footnote 10: From the "Heptameron," of which a translation by R.
+Codrington appeared in London in 1654.]
+
+"My children, you ask of me something that I find very difficult,--to
+teach you a pastime that can deliver you from your sadness; for having
+sought some such remedy all my life I have never found but one--the
+reading of Holy Writ; in which is found the true and perfect joy of
+the mind, from which proceed the comfort and health of the body. And
+if you ask me what keeps me so joyous and so healthy in my old age, it
+is that as soon as I rise I take and read the Holy Scriptures, seeing
+and contemplating the will of God, who for our sakes sent His son on
+earth to announce this holy word and good news, by which He promises
+remission of sins, satisfaction for all duties by the gifts He makes
+us of His love, passion and merits. This consideration gives me so
+much joy that I take my Psalter and as humbly as I can I sing with my
+heart and pronounce with my tongue the beautiful psalms and canticles
+that the Holy Spirit wrote in the heart of David and of other authors.
+And this contentment that I have in them does me so much good that the
+ills that every day may happen to me seem to me to be blessings,
+seeing that I have in my heart, by faith, Him who has borne them for
+me. Likewise, before supper, I retire, to pasture my soul in reading;
+and then, in the evening, I call to mind what I have done in the past
+day, in order to ask pardon for my faults, and to thank Him for His
+kindnesses, and in His love, fear and peace I repose, assured against
+all ills. Wherefore, my children, this is the pastime in which I have
+long stayed my steps, after having searched all things, where I found
+no content for my spirit. It seems to me that if every morning you
+will give an hour to reading, and then, during mass, devoutly say your
+prayers, you will find in this desert the same beauty as in cities;
+for he who knows God, sees all beautiful things in Him, and without
+Him all is ugliness....
+
+"I beg you, ladies," continues the narrator, "if God give you such
+husbands,[11] not to despair till you have long tried every means to
+reclaim them; for there are twenty-four hours in a day in which a man
+may change his way of thinking, and a woman should deem herself
+happier to have won her husband by patience and long effort than if
+fortune and her parents had given her a more perfect one." "Yes," said
+Oisille, "this is an example for all married women."--"Let her follow
+this example who will," said Parlamente: "but as for me, it would not
+be possible for me to have such long patience; for, however true it
+may be that in all estates patience is a fine virtue, it's my opinion
+that in marriage it brings about at last unfriendliness; because,
+suffering unkindness from a fellow being, one is forced to separate
+from him as far as possible, and from this separation arises a
+contempt for the fault of the disloyal one, and in this contempt
+little by little love diminishes; for it is what is valued that is
+loved."--"But there is danger," said Ennarsuite, "that the impatient
+wife may find a furious husband, who would give her pain in lieu of
+patience."--"But what could a husband do," said Parlamente, "save what
+has been recounted in this story?"--"What could he do?" said
+Ennarsuite, "he could beat his wife."...
+
+[Footnote 11: That is, unfaithful husbands.]
+
+"I think," said Parlamente, "that a good woman would not be so grieved
+in being beaten out of anger, as in being contemptuously treated by a
+man who does not care for her, and after having endured the suffering
+of the loss of his friendship, nothing the husband might do would
+cause her much concern. And besides, the story says that the trouble
+she took to draw him back to her was because of her love for her
+children, and I believe it."--"And do you think it was so very patient
+of her," said Nomerfide, "to set fire to the bed in which her husband
+was sleeping?"--"Yes," said Longarine, "for when she saw the smoke she
+awoke him; and that was just the thing where she was most in fault,
+for of such husbands as those the ashes are good to make lye for the
+washtub."--"You are cruel, Longarine," said Oisille, "and you did not
+live in such fashion with your husband."--"No," said Longarine, "for,
+God be thanked, he never gave me such occasion, but reason to regret
+him all my life, instead of to complain of him."--"And if he had
+treated you in this way," said Nomerfide, "what would you have
+done?"--"I loved him so much," said Longarine, "that I think I should
+have killed him and then killed myself; for to die after such
+vengeance would be pleasanter to me than to live faithfully with a
+faithless husband."
+
+"As far as I see," said Hircan, "you love your husbands only for
+yourselves. If they are good after your own heart, you love them well;
+if they commit toward you the least fault in the world, they have lost
+their week's work by a Saturday. The long and the short is that you
+want to be mistresses; for my part I am of your mind, provided all the
+husbands also agree to it."--"It is reasonable," said Parlamente,
+"that the man rule us as our head, but not that he desert us or
+ill-treat us."--"God," said Oisille, "has set in such due order the
+man and the woman that if the marriage estate is not abused, I hold it
+to be one of the most beautiful and stable conditions in the World;
+and I am sure that all those here present, whatever air they assume,
+think no less highly of it. And forasmuch as men say they are wiser
+than women, they should be more sharply punished when the fault is on
+their side. But we have talked enough on this subject."
+
+
+
+
+FRANCOIS RABELAIS
+
+ Born in Touraine in 1495, died in Paris in 1553; educated at
+ an abbey and spent fifteen or more years as a monk; Studied
+ medicine in 1530 and practised in Lyons; traveled in Italy;
+ in charge of a parish at Meudon in 1550-52; composed
+ almanacs and edited old medical books; published
+ "Pantagruel" in 1533 and "Gargantua" in 1535, the success of
+ which led to several sequels, the last appearing in the year
+ of his death.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GARGANTUA IN HIS CHILDHOOD[12]
+
+
+Gargantua, from three years to five, was nourished and instructed in
+all proper discipline by the commandment of his father, and spent that
+time like the other little children of the country,--that is, in
+drinking, eating, and sleeping; in eating, sleeping, and drinking; and
+in sleeping, drinking, and eating. Still he wallowed in the mire,
+blackened his face, trod down his shoes at heel; at the flies he did
+oftentimes yawn, and willingly run after the butterflies, the empire
+whereof belonged to his father. He sharpened his teeth with a slipper,
+washed his hands with his broth, combed his head with a bowl, sat down
+between two stools and came to the ground, covered himself with a wet
+sack, drank while eating his soup, ate his cake without bread, would
+bite in laughing, laugh in biting, hide himself in the water for fear
+of rain, go cross, fall into dumps, look demure, skin the fox, say the
+ape's _paternoster_, return to his sheep, turn the sows into the hay,
+beat the dog before the lion, put the cart before the horse, scratch
+where he did not itch, shoe the grasshopper, tickle himself to make
+himself laugh, know flies in milk, scrape paper, blur parchment, then
+run away, pull at the kid's leather, reckon without his host, beat the
+bushes without catching the birds, and thought that bladders were
+lanterns. He always looked a gift-horse in the mouth, hoped to catch
+larks if ever the heavens should fall, and made a virtue of necessity.
+Every morning his father's puppies ate out of the dish with him, and
+he with them. He would bite their ears, and they would scratch his
+nose. The good man Grangousier said to Gargantua's governesses:
+
+[Footnote 12: From Book I, Chapter XI, of "The Inestimable Life of the
+Great Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The basis of all English
+translations of Rabelais is the work begun by Sir Thomas Urquhart and
+completed by Peter A. Motteux. Urquhart was a Scotchman, who was born
+in 1611 and died in 1660. Motteux was a Frenchman, who settled in
+England after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and was the
+author of several plays. This translation has been called "one of the
+most perfect that ever man accomplished." Other and later versions
+have usually been based on Urquhart and Motteux, but have been
+expurgated, as is the case with the passages given here. An earlier
+version of "Pantagruel," published in London in 1620, was ascribed to
+"Democritus Pseudomantio."
+
+Rabelais, by common, consent, has a place among the greatest prose
+writers of the world. In his knowledge of human nature and his
+literary excellence, he is often ranked as inferior only to
+Shakespeare. As an exponent of the sentiments and atmosphere of his
+own time, we find in him what is found only in a few of the world's
+greatest writers. That he has not been more widely read in modern
+times, is attributed chiefly to the extraordinary coarseness of
+language which he constantly introduces into his pages. This
+coarseness is, in fact, so pervasive that expurgation is made
+extremely difficult to any one who would preserve some fair remnant of
+the original.]
+
+"Philip, King of Macedon, knew the wit of his son Alexander, by his
+skilful managing of a horse;[13] for the said horse was so fierce and
+unruly that none durst adventure to ride him, because he gave a fall
+to all his riders, breaking the neck of this man, the leg of that, the
+brain of one, and the jawbone of another. This by Alexander being
+considered, one day in the hippodrome (which was a place appointed for
+the walking and running of horses), he perceived that the fury of the
+horse proceeded merely from the fear he had of his own shadow;
+whereupon, getting on his back he ran him against the sun, so that the
+shadow fell behind, and by that means tamed the horse and brought him
+to his hand. Whereby his father recognized the divine judgment that
+was in him, and caused him most carefully to be instructed by
+Aristotle, who at that time was highly renowned above all the
+philosophers of Greece. After the same manner I tell you, that as
+regards my son Gargantua, I know that his understanding doth
+participate of some divinity,--so keen, subtle, profound, and clear do
+I find him; and if he be well taught, he will attain to a sovereign
+degree of wisdom. Therefore will I commit him to some learned man, to
+have him indoctrinated according to his capacity, and will spare no
+cost."
+
+[Footnote 13: The famous horse Bucephalus is here referred to.]
+
+Whereupon they appointed him a great sophister-doctor, called Maitre
+Tubal Holophernes, who taught him his A B C so well that he could say
+it by heart backward; and about this he was five years and three
+months. Then read he to him Donat, Facet, Theodolet, and Alanus _in
+parabolis_. About this he was thirteen years, six months, and two
+weeks. But you must remark that in the mean time he did learn to write
+in Gothic characters, and that he wrote all his books,--for the art of
+printing was not then in use. After that he read unto him the book "De
+Modis Significandi," with the commentaries of Hurtebise, of Fasquin,
+of Tropditeux, of Gaulehaut, of John le Veau, of Billonio, of
+Brelingandus, and a rabble of others; and herein he spent more than
+eighteen years and eleven months, and was so well versed in it that at
+the examination he would recite it by heart backward, and did
+sometimes prove on his fingers to his mother _quod de modis
+significandi non erat scientia_. Then did he read to him the
+"Compost," on which he spent sixteen years and two months, and that
+justly at the time his said preceptor died, which was in the year one
+thousand four hundred and twenty.
+
+Afterward he got another old fellow with a cough to teach him, named
+Maitre Jobelin Bride, who read unto him Hugutio, Hebrard's "Grecisme,"
+the "Doctrinal," the "Parts," the "Quid Est," the "Supplementum";
+Marmoquet "De Moribus in Mensa Servandis"; Seneca "De Quatour
+Virtutibus Cardinalibus"; Passavantus "Cum Commento" and "Dormi
+Secure," for the holidays; and some other of such-like stuff, by
+reading whereof he became as wise as any we have ever baked in an
+oven.
+
+At the last his father perceived that indeed he studied hard, and that
+altho he spent all his time in it, he did nevertheless profit
+nothing, but which is worse, grew thereby foolish, simple, doted, and
+blockish: whereof making a heavy regret to Don Philip des Marays,
+Viceroy of Papeligose, he found that it were better for him to learn
+nothing at all than to be taught such-like books under such
+schoolmasters; because their knowledge was nothing but brutishness,
+and their wisdom but toys, bastardizing good and noble spirits and
+corrupting the flower of youth. "That it is so, take," said he, "any
+young boy of the present time, who hath only studied two years: if he
+have not a better judgment, a better discourse, and that exprest in
+better terms, than your son, with a completer carriage and civility to
+all manner of persons, account me forever a chawbacon of La Brene."
+
+This pleased Grangousier very well, and he commanded that it should be
+done. At night at supper, the said Des Marays brought in a young page
+of his from Ville-gouges, called Eudemon, so well combed, so well
+drest, so well brushed, so sweet in his behavior, that he resembled a
+little angel more than a human creature. Then he said to Grangousier,
+"Do you see this child? He is not as yet full twelve years old. Let us
+try, if it pleaseth you, what difference there is betwixt the
+knowledge of the doting dreamers of old time and the young lads that
+are now."
+
+The trial pleased Grangousier, and he commanded the page to begin.
+Then Eudemon, asking leave of the viceroy, his master, so to do, with
+his cap in his hand, a clear and open countenance, ruddy lips, his
+eyes steady, and his looks fixt upon Gargantua, with a youthful
+modesty, stood up straight on his feet and began to commend and
+magnify him, first, for his virtue and good manners; secondly, for his
+knowledge; thirdly, for his nobility; fourthly, for his bodily beauty;
+and in the fifth place, sweetly exhorted him to reverence his father
+with all observancy, who was so careful to have him well brought up.
+In the end he prayed him that he would vouchsafe to admit of him
+amongst the least of his servants; for other favor at that time
+desired he none of heaven but that he might do him some grateful and
+acceptable service.
+
+All this was by him delivered with gestures so proper, pronunciation
+so distinct, a voice so eloquent, language so well turned, and in such
+good Latin, that he seemed rather a Gracchus, a Cicero, an AEmilius of
+the time past than a youth of his age. But all the countenance that
+Gargantua kept was that he fell to crying like a cow, and cast down
+his face, hiding it with his cap; nor could they possibly draw one
+word from him. Whereat his father was so grievously vexed that he
+would have killed Maitre Jobelin; but the said Des Marays withheld him
+from it by fair persuasions, so that at length he pacified his wrath.
+The Grangousier commanded he should be paid his wages, that they
+should make him drink theologically, after which he was to go to all
+the devils. "At least," said he, "to-day shall it not cost his host
+much, if by chance he should die as drunk as an Englishman."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+GARGANTUA'S EDUCATION[14]
+
+
+Maitre Jobelin being gone out of the house, Grangousier consulted with
+the viceroy what tutor they should choose for Gargantua; and it was
+betwixt them resolved that Ponocrates, the tutor of Eudemon, should
+have the charge, and that they should all go together to Paris to know
+what was the study of the young men of France at that time....
+
+[Footnote 14: From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.]
+
+Ponocrates appointed that for the beginning he should do as he had
+been accustomed; to the end he might understand by what means, for so
+long a time, his old masters had made him so foolish, simple, and
+ignorant. He disposed, therefore, of his time in such fashion that
+ordinarily he did awake between eight and nine o'clock, whether it was
+day or not; for so had his ancient governors ordained, alleging that
+which David saith, _Vanum est vobis ante lucem surgere_. Then did he
+tumble and wallow in the bed some time, the better to stir up his
+vital spirits, and appareled himself according to the season; but
+willingly he would wear a great long gown of thick frieze, lined with
+fox fur. Afterward he combed his head with the German comb, which is
+the four fingers and the thumb; for his preceptors said that to comb
+himself otherwise, to wash and make himself neat was to lose time in
+this world. Then to suppress the dew and bad air, he breakfasted on
+fair fried tripe, fair grilled meats, fair hams, fair hashed capon,
+and store of sipped brewis.
+
+Ponocrates showed him that he ought not to eat so soon after rising
+out of his bed, unless he had performed some exercise beforehand.
+Gargantua answered: "What! have not I sufficiently well exercised
+myself? I rolled myself six or seven turns in my bed before I rose. Is
+not that enough? Pope Alexander did so, by the advice of a Jew, his
+physician; and lived till his dying day in despite of the envious. My
+first masters have used me to it, saying that breakfast makes a good
+memory; wherefore they drank first. I am very well after it, and dine
+but the better. And Maitre Tubal, who was the first licentiate at
+Paris, told me that it is not everything to run a pace, but to set
+forth well betimes: so doth not the total welfare of our humanity
+depend upon perpetual drinking _atas_, _atas_, like ducks, but on
+drinking well in the morning; whence the verse----
+
+ "'To rise betimes is no good hour,
+ To drink betimes is better sure.'"
+
+After he had thoroughly broken his fast, he went to church; and they
+carried for him, in a great basket, a huge breviary. There he heard
+six-and-twenty or thirty masses. This while, to the same place came
+his sayer of hours, lapped up about the chin like a tufted whoop, and
+his breath perfumed with good store of sirup. With him he mumbled all
+his kyriels, which he so curiously picked that there fell not so much
+as one grain to the ground. As he went from the church, they brought
+him, upon a dray drawn by oxen, a heap of paternosters of Sanct
+Claude, every one of them being of the bigness of a hat-block; and
+thus walking through the cloisters, galleries, or garden, he said more
+in turning them over than sixteen hermits would have done. Then did he
+study for some paltry half-hour with his eyes fixt upon his book; but
+as the comic saith, his mind was in the kitchen. Then he sat down at
+table; and because he was naturally phlegmatic, he began his meal with
+some dozens of hams, dried meats' tongues, mullet's roe, chitterlings,
+and such other forerunners of wine.
+
+In the meanwhile, four of his folks did cast into his mouth, one after
+another continually, mustard by whole shovelfuls. Immediately after
+that he drank a horrific draft of white wine for the ease of his
+kidneys. When that was done, he ate according to the season meat
+agreeable to his appetite, and then left off eating when he was like
+to crack for fulness. As for his drinking, he had neither end nor
+rule. For he was wont to say, that the limits and bounds of drinking
+were when the cork of the shoes of him that drinketh swelleth up half
+a foot high.
+
+Then heavily mumbling a scurvy grace, he washed his hands in fresh
+wine, picked his teeth with the foot of a pig, and talked jovially
+with his attendants. Then the carpet being spread, they brought great
+store of cards, dice, and chessboards.
+
+After having well played, reveled, passed and spent his time, it was
+proper to drink a little, and that was eleven goblets the man; and
+immediately after making good cheer again, he would stretch himself
+upon a fair bench, or a good large bed, and there sleep two or three
+hours together without thinking or speaking any hurt. After he was
+awakened he would shake his ears a little. In the mean time they
+brought him fresh wine. Then he drank better than ever. Ponocrates
+showed him that it was an ill diet to drink so after sleeping. "It
+is," answered Gargantua, "the very life of the Fathers; for naturally
+I sleep salt, and my sleep hath been to me instead of so much ham."
+
+Then began he to study a little, and the paternosters first, which the
+better and more formally to dispatch, he got up on an old mule which
+had served nine kings; and so mumbling with his mouth, doddling his
+head, would go see a coney caught in a net. At his return he went into
+the kitchen to know what roast meat was on the spit; and supped very
+well, upon my conscience, and commonly did invite some of his
+neighbors that were good drinkers; with whom carousing, they told
+stories of all sorts, from the old to the new. After supper were
+brought in upon the place the fair wooden gospels--that is to say,
+many pairs of tables and cards--with little small banquets, intermined
+with collations and reer-suppers. Then did he sleep without unbridling
+until eight o'clock in the next morning.
+
+When Ponocrates knew Gargantua's vicious manner of living, he resolved
+to bring him up in another kind; but for a while he bore with him,
+considering that nature does not endure sudden changes without great
+violence. Therefore, to begin his work the better, he requested a
+learned physician of that time, called Maitre Theodorus, seriously to
+perpend, if it were possible, how to bring Gargantua unto a better
+course. The said physician purged him canonically with Anticyran
+hellebore, by which medicine he cleansed all the alteration and
+perverse habitude of his brain. By this means also Ponocrates made him
+forget all that he had learned under his ancient preceptors. To do
+this better, they brought him into the company of learned men who were
+there, in emulation of whom a great desire and affection came to him
+to study otherwise, and to improve his parts. Afterward he put himself
+into such a train of study that he lost not any hour in the day, but
+employed all his time in learning and honest knowledge. Gargantua
+awaked then about four o'clock in the morning.
+
+While they were rubbing him, there was read unto him some chapter of
+the Holy Scripture aloud and clearly, with a pronunciation fit for the
+matter; and hereunto was appointed a young page born in Basche, named
+Anagnostes. According to the purpose and argument of that lesson, he
+oftentimes gave himself to revere, adore, pray, and send up his
+supplications to what good God whose word did show His majesty and
+marvelous judgments. Then his master repeated what had been read,
+expounding unto him the most obscure and difficult points. They then
+considered the face of the sky, if it was such as they had observed it
+the night before, and into what signs the sun was entering, as also
+the moon for that day. This done, he was appareled, combed, curled,
+trimmed, and perfumed, during which time they repeated to him the
+lessons of the day before. He himself said them by heart, and upon
+them grounded practical cases concerning the estate of man; which he
+would prosecute sometimes two or three hours, but ordinarily they
+ceased as soon as he was fully clothed. Then for three good hours
+there was reading. This done, they went forth, still conferring of the
+substance of the reading, and disported themselves at ball, tennis, or
+the _pile trigone_; gallantly exercising their bodies, as before they
+had done their minds. All their play was but in liberty, for they left
+off when they pleased; and that was commonly when they did sweat, or
+were otherwise weary. Then were they very well dried and rubbed,
+shifted their shirts, and walking soberly, went to see if dinner was
+ready. While they stayed for that, they did clearly and eloquently
+recite some sentences that they had retained of the lecture.
+
+In the mean time Master Appetite came, and then very orderly sat they
+down at table. At the beginning of the meal there was read some
+pleasant history of ancient prowess, until he had taken his wine. Then
+if they thought good, they continued reading, or began to discourse
+merrily together; speaking first of the virtue, propriety, efficacy,
+and nature of all that was served in at that table; of bread, of wine,
+of water, of salt, of flesh, fish, fruits, herbs, roots, and of their
+dressing. By means whereof, he learned in a little time all the
+passages that on these subject are to be found in Pliny, Athenaeus,
+Dioscorides, Julius Pollux, Gallen, Porphyrius, Oppian, Polybius,
+Heliodorus, Aristotle, AElian, and others. While they talked of these
+things, many times, to be more the certain, they caused the very books
+to be brought to the table; and so well and perfectly did he in his
+memory retain the things above said, that in that time there was not a
+physician that knew half so much as he did. Afterward they conferred
+of the lessons read in the morning; and ending their repast with some
+conserve of quince, he washed his hands and eyes with fair fresh
+water, and gave thanks unto God in some fine canticle, made in praise
+of the divine bounty and munificence.
+
+This done, they brought in cards, not to play, but to learn a thousand
+pretty tricks and new inventions, which were all grounded upon
+arithmetic. By this means he fell in love with that numerical science;
+and every day after dinner and supper he passed his time in it as
+pleasantly as he was wont to do at cards and dice: so that at last he
+understood so well both the theory and practise thereof, that Tonstal
+the Englishman, who had written very largely of that purpose, confest
+that verily in comparison of him he understood nothing but double
+Dutch; and not only in that, but in the other mathematical sciences,
+as geometry, astronomy, music. For while waiting for the digestion of
+his food, they made a thousand joyous instruments and geometrical
+figures, and at the same time practised the astronomical canons.
+
+After this they recreated themselves with singing musically, in four
+or five parts, or upon a set theme, as it best pleased them. In matter
+of musical instruments, he learned to play the lute, the spinet, the
+harp, the German flute, the flute with nine holes, the violin, and the
+sackbut. This hour thus spent, he betook himself to his principal
+study for three hours together, or more, as well to repeat his
+matutinal lectures as to proceed in the book wherein he was; as also
+to write handsomely, to draw and form the antique and Roman letters.
+This being done, they went out of their house, and with them a young
+gentleman of Touraine, named Gymnast, who taught him the art of
+riding.
+
+Changing then his clothes, he mounted on any kind of a horse, which he
+made to bound in the air, to jump the ditch, to leap the palisade, and
+to turn short in a ring both to the right and left hand. There he
+broke not his lance; for it is the greatest foolishness in the world
+to say, I have broken ten lances at tilts or in fight. A carpenter can
+do even as much. But it is a glorious and praiseworthy action with one
+lance to break and overthrow ten enemies. Therefore with a sharp,
+strong, and stiff lance would he usually force a door, pierce a
+harness, uproot a tree, carry away the ring, lift up a saddle, with
+the mail-coat and gantlet. All this he did in complete arms from head
+to foot. He was singularly skilful in leaping nimbly from one horse to
+another without putting foot to ground. He could likewise from either
+side, with a lance in his hand, leap on horseback without stirrups,
+and rule the horse at his pleasure without a bridle; for such things
+are useful in military engagements. Another day he exercised the
+battle-ax, which he so dextrously wielded that he was passed knight of
+arms in the field.
+
+Then tossed he the pike, played with the two-handed sword, with the
+back sword, with the Spanish tuck, the dagger, poniard, armed,
+unarmed, with a buckler, with a cloak, with a target. Then would he
+hunt the hart, the roebuck, the bear, the fallow deer, the wild boar,
+the hare, the pheasant, the partridge, and the bustard. He played at
+the great ball, and made it bound in the air, both with fist and foot.
+He wrestled, ran, jumped, not at three steps and a leap, nor a
+hopping, nor yet at the German jump; "for," said Gymnast, "these jumps
+are for the wars altogether unprofitable, and of no use": but at one
+leap he would skip over a ditch, spring over a hedge, mount six paces
+upon a wall, climb after this fashion up against a window, the height
+of a lance.
+
+He did swim in deep waters on his face, on his back, sidewise, with
+all his body, with his feet only, with one hand in the air, wherein he
+held a book, crossing thus the breadth of the river Seine without
+wetting, and dragging along his cloak with his teeth, as did Julius
+Caesar; then with the help of one hand he entered forcibly into a boat,
+from whence he cast himself again headlong into the water, sounded the
+depths, hollowed the rocks, and plunged into the pits and gulfs. Then
+turned he the boat about, governed it, led it swiftly or slowly with
+the stream and against the stream, stopt it in its course, guided it
+with one hand, and with the other laid hard about him with a huge
+great oar, hoisted the sail, hied up along the mast by the shrouds,
+ran upon the bulwarks, set the compass, tackled the bowlines, and
+steered the helm. Coming out of the water, he ran furiously up
+against a hill, and with the same alacrity and swiftness ran down
+again. He climbed up trees like a cat, leaped from the one to the
+other like a squirrel. He did pull down the great boughs and branches,
+like another Milo: then with two sharp well-steeled daggers, and two
+tried bodkins, would he run up by the wall to the very top of a house
+like a rat; then suddenly come down from the top to the bottom, with
+such an even disposal of members that by the fall he would catch no
+harm.
+
+He did cast the dart, throw the bar, put the stone, practise the
+javelin, the boar-spear or partizan, and the halbert. He broke the
+strongest bows in drawing, bended against his breast the greatest
+cross-bows of steel, took his aim by the eye with the hand-gun,
+traversed the cannon; shot at the butts, at the pape-gay, before him,
+sidewise, and behind him, like the Parthians. They tied a cable-rope
+to the top of a high tower, by one end whereof hanging near the ground
+he wrought himself with his hands to the very top; then came down
+again so sturdily and firmly that you could not on a plain meadow have
+run with more assurance. They set up a great pole fixt upon two trees.
+There would he hang by his hands, and with them alone, his feet
+touching at nothing, would go back and fore along the aforesaid rope
+with so great swiftness, that hardly could one overtake him with
+running.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+OF THE FOUNDING OF AN IDEAL ABBEY[15]
+
+
+There was left only the monk to provide for; whom Gargantua would have
+made Abbot of Seuille, but he refused it. He would have given him the
+Abbey of Bourgueil, or of Sanct Florent, which was better, or both if
+it pleased him; but the monk gave him a very peremptory answer, that
+he would never take upon him the charge nor government of monks. "For
+how shall I be able," said he, "to rule over others, that have not
+full power and command of myself? If you think I have done you, or may
+hereafter do you any acceptable service, give me leave to found an
+abbey after my own mind and fancy." The motion pleased Gargantua very
+well; who thereupon offered him all the country of Thelema by the
+river Loire, till within two leagues of the great forest of
+Port-Huaut. The monk then requested Gargantua to institute his
+religious order contrary to all others.
+
+[Footnote 15: From Book I of "The Inestimable Life of the Great
+Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel." The Urquhart-Motteux translation.]
+
+"First, then," said Gargantua, "you must not build a wall about your
+convent, for all other abbeys are strongly walled and mured about."
+
+Moreover, seeing there are certain convents in the world whereof the
+custom is, if any women come in--I mean honorable and honest
+women--they immediately sweep the ground which they have trod upon;
+therefore was it ordained that if any man or woman, entered into
+religious orders, should by chance come within this new abbey, all the
+rooms should be thoroughly washed and cleansed through which they had
+passed.
+
+And because in other monasteries all is compassed, limited, and
+regulated by hours, it was decreed that in this new structure there
+should, be neither clock nor dial, but that according to the
+opportunities, and incident occasions, all their works should be
+disposed of; "for," said Gargantua, "the greatest loss of time that I
+know is to count the hours. What good comes of it? Nor can there be
+any greater folly in the world than for one to guide and direct his
+courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment and
+discretion."
+
+_Item_, Because at that time they put no women into nunneries but such
+as were either one-eyed, lame, humpbacked, ill-favored, misshapen,
+foolish, senseless, spoiled, or corrupt; nor encloistered any men but
+those that were either sickly, ill-bred, clownish, and the trouble of
+the house:
+
+("Apropos," said the monk--"a woman that is neither fair nor good, to
+what use serves she?" "To make a nun of," said Gargantua. "Yes," said
+the monk, "and to make shirts.")
+
+Therefore, Gargantua said, was it ordained, that into this religious
+order should be admitted no women that were not fair, well-featured,
+and of a sweet disposition; nor men that were not comely, personable,
+and also of a sweet disposition.
+
+_Item_, Because in the convents of women men come not but underhand,
+privily, and by stealth? it was therefore enacted that in this house
+there shall be no women in case there be not men, nor men in case
+there be not women.
+
+_Item_, Because both men and women that are received into religious
+orders after the year of their novitiates were constrained and forced
+perpetually to stay there all the days of their life: it was ordered
+that all of whatever kind, men or women, admitted within this abbey,
+should have full leave to depart with peace and contentment whensoever
+it should seem good to them so to do.
+
+_Item_, For that the religious men and women did ordinarily make three
+vows--to wit, those of chastity, poverty, and obedience: it was
+therefore constituted and appointed that in this convent they might be
+honorably married, that they might be rich, and live at liberty. In
+regard to the legitimate age, the women were to be admitted from ten
+till fifteen, and the men from twelve till eighteen.
+
+For the fabric and furniture of the abbey, Gargantua caused to be
+delivered out in ready money twenty-seven hundred thousand eight
+hundred and one-and-thirty of those long-wooled rams; and for every
+year until the whole work was completed he allotted threescore nine
+thousand gold crowns, and as many of the seven stars, to be charged
+all upon the receipt of the river Dive. For the foundation and
+maintenance thereof he settled in perpetuity three-and-twenty hundred
+threescore and nine thousand five hundred and fourteen rose nobles,
+taxes exempted from all in landed rents, and payable every year at the
+gate of the abbey; and for this gave them fair letters patent.
+
+The building was hexagonal, and in such a fashion that in every one of
+the six corners there was built a great round tower, sixty paces in
+diameter, and were all of a like form and bigness. Upon the north side
+ran the river Loire, on the bank whereof was situated the tower called
+Arctic. Going toward the east there was another called Calaer, the next
+following Anatole, the next Mesembrine, the next Hesperia, and the
+last Criere. Between each two towers was the space of three hundred
+and twelve paces. The whole edifice was built in six stories,
+reckoning the cellars underground for one. The second was vaulted
+after the fashion of a basket-handle; the rest were coated with
+Flanders plaster, in the form of a lamp foot. It was roofed with fine
+slates of lead, carrying figures of baskets and animals; the ridge
+gilt, together with the gutters, which issued without the wall between
+the windows, painted diagonally in gold and blue down to the ground,
+where they ended in great canals, which carried away the water below
+the house into the river.
+
+This same building was a hundred times more sumptuous and magnificent
+than ever was Bonivet; for there were in it nine thousand three
+hundred and two-and-thirty chambers, every one whereof had a
+withdrawing-room, a closet, a wardrobe, a chapel, and a passage into a
+great hall. Between every tower, in the midst of the said body of
+building, there was a winding stair, whereof the steps were part of
+porphyry, which is a dark-red marble spotted with white, part of
+Numidian stone, and part of serpentine marble; each of those steps
+being two-and-twenty feet in length and three fingers thick, and the
+just number of twelve betwixt every landing-place. On every landing
+were two fair antique arcades where the light came in; and by those
+they went into a cabinet, made even with, and of the breadth of the
+said winding, and they mounted above the roof and ended in a pavilion.
+By this winding they entered on every side into a great hall, and from
+the halls into the chambers. From the Arctic tower unto the Criere
+were fair great libraries in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, French, Italian,
+and Spanish, respectively distributed on different stories, according
+to their languages. In the midst there was a wonderful winding stair,
+the entry whereof was without the house, in an arch six fathoms broad.
+It was made in such symmetry and largeness that six men-at-arms, lance
+on thigh, might ride abreast all up to the very top of all the palace.
+From the tower Anatole to the Mesembrine were fair great galleries,
+all painted with the ancient prowess, histories, and descriptions of
+the world. In the midst thereof there was likewise such another ascent
+and gate as we said there was on the river-side.
+
+In the middle of the lower court there was a stately fountain of fair
+alabaster. Upon the top thereof stood the three Graces, with horns of
+abundance, and did jet out the water at their breasts, mouth, ears,
+and eyes. The inside of the buildings in this lower court stood upon
+great pillars of Cassydonian stone, and porphyry in fair ancient
+arches. Within these were spacious galleries, long and large, adorned
+with curious pictures--the horns of bucks and unicorns; of the
+rhinoceros and the hippopotamus; the teeth and tusks of elephants, and
+other things well worth the beholding. The lodging of the ladies took
+up all from the tower Arctic unto the gate Mesembrine. The men possest
+the rest. Before the said lodging of the ladies, that they might have
+their recreation, between the two first towers, on the outside, were
+placed the tilt-yard, the hippodrome, the theater, the swimming-bath,
+with most admirable baths in three stages, well furnished with all
+necessary accommodation, and store of myrtle-water. By the river-side
+was the fair garden of pleasure, and in the midst of that a fair
+labyrinth. Between the two other towers were the tennis and fives
+courts. Toward the tower Criere stood the orchard full of all
+fruit-trees, set and ranged in a quincunx. At the end of that was the
+great park, abounding with all sort of game. Betwixt the third couple
+of towers were the butts for arquebus, crossbow, and arbalist. The
+stables were beyond the offices, and before them stood the falconry,
+managed by falconers very expert in the art; and it was yearly
+supplied by the Candians, Venetians, Sarmatians, with all sorts of
+excellent birds, eagles, gerfalcons, goshawks, falcons, sparrow-hawks,
+merlins, and other kinds of them, so gentle and perfectly well trained
+that, flying from the castle for their own disport, they would not
+fail to catch whatever they encountered. The venery was a little
+further off, drawing toward the park.
+
+All the halls, chambers, and cabinets were hung with tapestry of
+divers sorts, according to the seasons of the year. All the pavements
+were covered with green cloth. The beds were embroidered. In every
+back chamber there was a looking-glass of pure crystal, set in a frame
+of fine gold garnished with pearls, and of such greatness that it
+would represent to the full the whole person. At the going out of the
+halls belonging to the ladies' lodgings were the perfumers and
+hair-dressers, through whose hands the gallants passed when they were
+to visit the ladies. These did every morning furnish the ladies'
+chambers with rose-water, musk, and angelica; and to each of them gave
+a little smelling-bottle breathing the choicest aromatical scents.
+
+The ladies on the foundation of this order were appareled after their
+own pleasure and liking. But since, of their own free will, they were
+reformed in manner as followeth:
+
+They wore stockings of scarlet which reached just three inches above
+the knee, having the border beautified with embroideries and trimming.
+Their garters were of the color of their bracelets, and circled the
+knee both over and under. Their shoes and slippers were either of red,
+violet, or crimson velvet, cut _a barbe d'ecrevisse_.
+
+Next to their smock they put on a fair corset of pure silk camblet;
+above that went the petticoat of white, red tawny, or gray taffeta.
+Above this was the _cotte_ in cloth of silver, with needlework either
+(according to the temperature and disposition of the weather) of
+satin, damask, velvet, orange, tawny, green, ash-colored, blue,
+yellow, crimson, cloth of gold, cloth of silver, or some other choice
+stuff, according to the day.
+
+Their gowns, correspondent to the season, were either of cloth of gold
+with silver edging, of red satin covered with gold purl, of taffeta,
+white, blue, black, or tawny, of silk serge, silk camblet, velvet,
+cloth of silver, silver tissue, cloth of gold, or figured satin with
+golden threads.
+
+In the summer, some days, instead of gowns, they wore fair mantles of
+the above-named stuff, or capes of violet velvet with edging of gold,
+or with knotted cordwork of gold embroidery, garnished with little
+Indian pearls. They always carried a fair plume of feathers, of the
+color of their muff, bravely adorned with spangles of gold. In the
+winter-time they had their taffeta gowns of all colors, as above
+named, and those lined with the rich furrings of wolves, weasels,
+Calabrian martlet, sables, and other costly furs. Their beads, rings,
+bracelets, and collars were of precious stones, such as carbuncles,
+rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emerald, turquoises, garnets, agates,
+beryls, and pearls.
+
+Their head-dressing varied with the season of the year. In winter it
+was of the French fashion; in the spring of the Spanish; in summer of
+the fashion of Tuscany, except only upon the holidays and Sundays, at
+which times they were accoutered in the French mode, because they
+accounted it more honorable, better befitting the modesty of a matron.
+
+The men were appareled after their fashion. Their stockings were of
+worsted or of serge, of white, black, or scarlet. Their breeches were
+of velvet, of the same color with their stockings, or very near,
+embroidered and cut according to their fancy. Their doublet was of
+cloth of gold, cloth of silver, velvet, satin, damask, or taffeta, of
+the same colors, cut embroidered, and trimmed up in the same manner.
+The points were of silk of the same colors, the tags were of gold
+enameled. Their coats and jerkins were of cloth of gold, cloth of
+silver, gold tissue, or velvet embroidered, as they thought fit. Their
+gowns were every whit as costly as those of the ladies. Their girdles
+were of silk, of the color of their doublets. Every one had a gallant
+sword by his side, the hilt and handle whereof were gilt, and the
+scabbard of velvet, of the color of his breeches, the end in gold, and
+goldsmith's work. The dagger of the same. Their caps were of black
+velvet, adorned with jewels and buttons of gold. Upon that they wore a
+white plume, most prettily and minion-like parted by so many rows of
+gold spangles, at the end whereof hung dangling fair rubies, emeralds,
+etc.
+
+But so great was the sympathy between the gallants and the ladies,
+that every day they were appareled in the same livery. And that they
+might not miss, there were certain gentlemen appointed to tell the
+youths every morning what colors the ladies would on that day wear;
+for all was done according to the pleasure of the ladies. In these so
+handsome clothes, and habiliments so rich, think not that either one
+or other of either sex did waste any time at all; for the masters of
+the wardrobes had all their raiments and apparel so ready for every
+morning, and the chamber-ladies were so well skilled, that in a trice
+they would be drest, and completely in their clothes from head to
+foot. And to have these accouterments with the more conveniency, there
+was about the wood of Thelema a row of houses half a league long, very
+neat and cleanly, wherein dwelt the goldsmiths, lapidaries,
+embroiderers, tailors, gold-drawers, velvet-weavers, tapestry-makers,
+and upholsterers, who wrought there every one in his own trade, and
+all for the aforesaid friars and nuns. They were furnished with matter
+and stuff from the hands of Lord Nausiclete, who every year brought
+them seven ships from the Perlas and Cannibal Islands, laden with
+ingots of gold, with raw silk, with pearls and precious stones. And if
+any pearls began to grow old, and lose somewhat of their natural
+whiteness and luster, those by their art they did renew by tendering
+them to cocks to be eaten, as they used to give casting unto hawks.
+
+All their life was spent not in laws, statutes, or rules, but
+according to their own free will and pleasure. They rose out of their
+beds when they thought good; they did eat, drink, labor, sleep, when
+they had a mind to it, and were disposed for it. None did awake them,
+none did constrain them to eat, drink, nor do any other thing; for so
+had Gargantua established it. In all their rule, and strictest tie of
+their order, there was but this one clause to be observed: _Fay ce que
+vouldras_.
+
+Because men that are free, well born, well bred, and conversant in
+honest companies, have naturally an instinct and spur that prompteth
+them unto virtuous actions and withdraws them from vice, which is
+called honor. Those same men, when by base subjection and constraint
+they are brought under and kept down, turn aside from that noble
+disposition by which they formerly were inclined to virtue, to shake
+off the bond of servitude; for it is agreeable with the nature of man
+to long after things forbidden.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN CALVIN
+
+ Born in France in 1509, died in Geneva in 1564; studied in
+ Paris and Orleans; became identified with the Reformation
+ about 1528; banished from Paris in 1533; published his
+ "Institutes," his most famous work, in Latin at Basel in
+ 1536, and in French in 1540; settled at Geneva in 1536;
+ banished from Geneva in 1538; returned to Geneva in 1541;
+ had a memorable controversy with Servetus in 1553; founded
+ the Academy of Geneva in 1559.
+
+
+
+
+OF FREEDOM FOR THE WILL[16]
+
+
+God has provided the soul of man with intellect, by which he might
+discern good from evil, just from unjust, and might know what to
+follow or to shun, Reason going before with her lamp; whence
+philosophers, in reference to her directing power have called [Greek:
+to hegemonichon]. To this he has joined will, to which choice belongs.
+Man excelled in these noble endowments in his primitive condition,
+when reason, intelligence, prudence, and judgment not only sufficed
+for the government of his earthly life, but also enabled him to rise
+up to God and eternal happiness. Thereafter choice was added to direct
+the appetites and temper all the organic motions; the will being thus
+perfectly submissive to the authority of reason.
+
+[Footnote 16: From "The Institutes." Calvin's work was translated into
+English by Thomas Norton and published in 1561. An abridgment,
+translated by Christopher Fetherstone, was published in Edinburgh in
+1585, and another abridgment by H. Holland in London in 1596. Many
+other translations of Calvin's writings appeared in the sixteenth
+century. John Allen issued a version of the "Institutes" in 1830,
+which has been held in esteem.]
+
+In this upright state, man possest freedom of will, by which if he
+chose he was able to obtain eternal life.
+
+It were here unseasonable to introduce the question concerning the
+secret predestination of God, because we are not considering what
+might or might not happen, but what the nature of man truly was. Adam,
+therefore, might have stood if he chose, since it was only by his own
+will that he fell; but it was because his will was pliable in either
+direction, and he had not received constancy to persevere, that he so
+easily fell. Still he had a free choice of good and evil; and not only
+so, but in the mind and will there was the highest rectitude, and all
+the organic parts were duly framed to obedience, until man corrupted
+its good properties, and destroyed himself. Hence the great darkness
+of philosophers who have looked for a complete building in a ruin, and
+fit arrangement in disorder. The principle they set out with was, that
+man could not be a rational animal unless he had a free choice of good
+and evil. They also imagined that the distinction between virtue and
+vice was destroyed, if man did not of his own counsel arrange his
+life. So far well, had there been no change in man. This being unknown
+to them, it is not surprizing that they throw everything into
+confusion. But those who, while they profess to be the disciples of
+Christ, still seek for free-will in man, notwithstanding of his being
+lost and drowned in spiritual destruction, labor under manifold
+delusion, making a heterogeneous mixture of inspired doctrine and
+philosophical opinions, and so erring as to both.
+
+But it will be better to leave these things to their own place. At
+present it is necessary only to remember that man at his first
+creation was very different from all his posterity; who, deriving
+their origin from him after he was corrupted, received a hereditary
+taint. At first every part of the soul was formed to rectitude. There
+was soundness of mind and freedom of will to choose the good. If any
+one objects that it was placed, as it were, in a slippery position
+because its power was weak, I answer, that the degree conferred was
+sufficient to take away every excuse. For surely the Deity could not
+be tied down to this condition,--to make man such that he either could
+not or would not sin. Such a nature might have been more excellent;
+but to expostulate with God as if he had been bound to confer this
+nature on man, is more than unjust, seeing he had full right to
+determine how much or how little he would give. Why he did not sustain
+him by the virtue of perseverance is hidden in his counsel; it is ours
+to keep within the bounds of soberness. Man had received the power, if
+he had the will, but he had not the will which would have given the
+power; for this will would have been followed by perseverance. Still,
+after he had received so much, there is no excuse for his having
+spontaneously brought death upon himself. No necessity was laid upon
+God to give him more than that intermediate and even transient will,
+that out of man's fall he might extract materials for his own glory.
+
+
+
+
+JOACHIM DU BELLAY
+
+ Born about 1524, died in 1560; surnamed "The French Ovid"
+ and "The Apollo of the Pleiade"; noted as poet and prose
+ writer; a cousin of Cardinal du Bellay and for a time his
+ secretary; wrote forty-seven sonnets on the antiquities of
+ Rome; his most notable work in prose is his "Defense et
+ Illustration de la Langue Francoise."
+
+
+
+
+WHY OLD FRENCH WAS NOT AS RICH AS GREEK AND LATIN[17]
+
+
+If our language is not as copious or rich as the Greek or Latin, this
+must not be laid to their charge, assuming that our language is not
+capable in itself of being barren and sterile; but it should rather be
+attributed to the ignorance of our ancestors, who, having (as some one
+says, speaking of the ancient Romans) held good doing in greater
+estimation than good talking and preferred to leave to their posterity
+examples of virtue rather than precepts, have deprived themselves of
+the glory of their great deeds, and us of their imitation; and by the
+same means have left our tongue so poor and bare that it has need of
+ornament and (if we may be allowed the phrase) of borrowed plumage.
+
+[Footnote 17: From the "Defence et Illustration de la Langue
+Francoise." Translated for this collection by Eric Arthur Bell. Du
+Bellay belonged to a group of sixteenth-century writers known as the
+Pleiade, who took upon themselves the mission of reducing the French
+language, in its literary forms, to something comparable to Greek and
+Latin. Mr. Saintsbury says they "made modern French--made it, we may
+say, twice over"; by which he means that French, in their time, was
+revolutionized, and that, in the Romantic movement of 1830, Hugo and
+his associates were armed by the work of the Pleiade for their revolt
+against the restraints of rule and language that had been imposed by
+the eighteenth century.]
+
+But who is willing to admit that the Greek and Roman tongues have
+always possest that excellence which characterized them at the time of
+Homer, Demosthenes, Virgil, and Cicero? And if these authors were of
+the opinion that a little diligence and culture were incapable of
+producing greater fruit, why did they make such efforts to bring it to
+the pitch of perfection it is in to-day? I can say the same thing of
+our language, which is now beginning to bloom without bearing fruit,
+like a plant which has not yet flowered, waiting till it can produce
+all the fruit possible. This is certainly not the fault of nature who
+has rendered it more sterile than the others, but the fault of those
+who have tended it, and have not cultivated it sufficiently. Like a
+wild plant which grows in the desert, without ever being watered or
+pruned or protected by the trees and shrubs which give it shade, it
+fades and almost dies.
+
+If the ancient Romans had been so negligent of the culture of their
+language when first they began to develop it, it is certain that they
+could not have become so great in so short a time. But they, in the
+guise of good agriculturists, first of all transplanted it from a wild
+locality to a cultivated one, and then in order that it might bear
+fruit earlier and better, cut away several useless shoots and
+substituted exotic and domestic ones, mostly drawn from the Greek
+language, which have grafted so well on to the trunk that they appear
+no longer adopted but natural. Out of these have sprung, from the
+Latin tongue, flowers and colored fruits in great number and of much
+eloquence, all of which things, not so much from its own nature but
+artificially, every tongue is wont to produce. And if the Greeks and
+Romans, more diligent in the culture of their tongue than we are in
+ours, found an eloquence in their language only after much labor and
+industry, are we for this reason, even if our vernacular is not as
+rich as it might be, to condemn it as something vile and of little
+value?
+
+The time will come perhaps, and I hope it will be for the good of the
+French, when the language of this noble and powerful kingdom (unless
+with France the whole French language is to be buried),[18] which is
+already beginning to throw out its roots, will shoot out of the ground
+and rise to such a height and size that it will even emulate that of
+the Greeks and the Romans, producing like them, Homers, Demostheneses,
+Virgils, and Ciceros, in the same way that France has already produced
+her Pericles, Alcibiades, Themistocles, and Scipio.
+
+[Footnote 18: Du Bellay here refers to the unhappy political state of
+France during his short life of thirty-six years. He was born one year
+before the defeat of Francis I at Pavia. When twenty years old, Henry
+VIII in league with Charles V had invaded France. Fourteen years later
+the country was distracted by disastrous religious wars which led up
+to the massacre of St. Bartholomew a few years after his death.]
+
+
+
+
+MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
+
+ Born in France in 1583, died in 1592; educated at a college
+ in Bordeaux; studied law; attached to the court of Francis
+ II in 1559, and to the person of Henry III in 1571; traveled
+ in Germany, Italy and Switzerland in 1580; made mayor of
+ Bordeaux in 1581; published his "Essays" in 1580, the first
+ English translation, made by Florio, appearing in 1603.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A WORD TO HIS READERS[19]
+
+
+Reader, loe here a well-meaning Booke. It doth at the first entrance
+forewarne thee, that in contriving the same, I have proposed unto my
+selfe no other than a familiar and private end: I have no respect or
+consideration at all, either to thy service, or to my glory; my forces
+are not capable of any such desseigne. I have vowed the same to the
+particular commodity of my kinsfolks and friends: to the end, that
+losing me (which they are likely to do ere long) they may therein
+find some lineaments of my conditions and humors, and by that meanes
+reserve more whole, and more lively foster, the knowledge and
+acquaintance they have had of me. Had my intention beene to forestal
+and purchase the worlds opinion and favor, I would surely have adorned
+my selfe more quaintly, or kept a more grave and solemne march. I
+desire therein to be delineated in mine owne genuine, simple and
+ordinarie fashion, without contention, art or study; for it is my
+selfe I pourtray. My imperfections shall therein be read to the life,
+and my naturall forme discerned, so farre-forth as publike reverence
+hath permitted me. For if my fortune had beene to have lived among
+those nations, which yet are said to live under the sweet liberty of
+Natures first and uncorrupted lawes, I assure thee, I would most
+willingly have pourtrayed my selfe fully and naked. Thus, gentle
+Reader, my selfe am the groundworke of my booke: It is then no reason
+thou shouldest employ thy time about so frivolous and vaine a Subject.
+Therefore farewell.
+
+[Footnote 19: From the preface to the "Essays," as translated by John
+Florio. A copy of Florio's "Montaigne" is known to have been in the
+library of Shakespeare, one of the few extant autographs of the poet
+being in a copy of this translation now preserved in the library of
+the British Museum.
+
+Montaigne is usually linked with Rabelais as to his important place in
+the history of French prose. The two have come down to us very much as
+Chaucer has come down in English literature--as a "well undefiled."
+Montaigne secured in his own lifetime a popularity which he has never
+lost, if, indeed, it has not been increased.]
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE[20]
+
+
+There are some particular natures that are private and retired: my
+natural way is proper for communication, and apt to lay me open; I am
+all without and in sight, born for society and friendship. The
+solitude that I love myself and recommend to others, is chiefly no
+other than to withdraw my thoughts and affections into myself; to
+restrain and check, not my steps, but my own cares and desires,
+resigning all foreign solicitude, and mortally avoiding servitude and
+obligation, and not so much the crowd of men, as the crowd of
+business. Local solitude, to say the truth, rather gives me more room,
+and sets me more at large; I more readily throw myself upon the
+affairs of state and the world, when I am alone; at the Louvre, and in
+the bustle of the court, I fold myself within my own skin; the crowd
+thrusts me upon myself; and I never entertain myself so wantonly, with
+so much license, or so especially, as in places of respect and
+ceremonious prudence: our follies do not make me laugh, but our wisdom
+does. I am naturally no enemy to a court life; I have therein passed a
+good part of my own, and am of a humor cheerfully to frequent great
+company, provided it be by intervals and at my own time: but this
+softness of judgment whereof I speak, ties me perforce to solitude.
+Even at home, amidst a numerous family, and in a house sufficiently
+frequented, I see people enough, but rarely such with whom I delight
+to converse; and I there reserve both for myself and others an unusual
+liberty: there is in my house no such thing as ceremony, ushering, or
+waiting upon people down to the coach, and such other troublesome
+ceremonies as our courtesy enjoins (O servile and importunate custom!)
+Every one there governs himself according to his own method; let who
+will speak his thoughts, I sit mute, meditating and shut up in my
+closet, without any offense to my guests.
+
+[Footnote 20: From the Essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," in Book
+III, Chapter III; translated by Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.]
+
+The men, whose society and familiarity I covet, are those they call
+sincere and able men; and the image of these makes me disrelish the
+rest. It is, if rightly taken, the rarest of our forms, and a form
+that we chiefly owe to nature. The end of this commerce is simply
+privacy, frequentation and conference, the exercise of souls, without
+other fruit. In our discourse, all subjects are alike to me; let there
+be neither weight, nor depth, 'tis all one: there is yet grace and
+pertinency; all there is tinted with a mature and constant judgment,
+and mixt with goodness, freedom, gaiety, and friendship. 'Tis not only
+in talking of the affairs of kings and state, that our wits discover
+their force and beauty, but every whit as much in private conferences.
+I understand my men even by their silence and smiles; and better
+discover them, perhaps, at table, than in the council. Hippomachus
+said very well, "that he could know the good wrestlers by only seeing
+them walk in the street." If learning please to step into our talk,
+it shall not be rejected, not magisterial, imperious, and importunate,
+as it commonly is, but suffragan and docile itself; we there only seek
+to pass away our time; when we have a mind to be instructed and
+preached to, we will go seek this in its throne; please let it humble
+itself to us for the nonce; for, useful and profitable as it is, I
+imagine that, at need, we may manage well enough without it, and do
+our business without its assistance. A well-descended soul, and
+practised in the conversation of men, will of herself render herself
+sufficiently agreeable; art is nothing but the counterpart and
+register of what such souls produce.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+OF HIS OWN LIBRARY[21]
+
+
+It goes side by side with me in my whole course, and everywhere is
+assisting me: it comforts me in my old age and solitude; it eases me
+of a troublesome weight of idleness, and delivers me at all hours from
+company that I dislike: it blunts the point of griefs, if they are not
+extreme, and have not got an entire possession of my soul. To divert
+myself from a troublesome fancy, 'tis but to run to my books; they
+presently fix me to them and drive the other out of my thoughts; and
+do not mutiny at seeing that I have only recourse to them for want of
+other more real, natural, and lively commodities; they always receive
+me with the same kindness. He may well go afoot, they say, who leads
+his horse in his hand; and our James, King of Naples and Sicily, who,
+handsome, young and healthful, caused himself to be carried about on a
+barrow, extended upon a pitiful mattress in a poor robe of gray cloth,
+and a cap of the same, but attended withal by a royal train of
+litters, led horses of all sorts, gentlemen and officers, did yet
+herein represent a tender and unsteady authority: "The sick man is not
+to be pitied, who has his cure in his sleeve." In the experience and
+practise of this maxim, which is a very true one, consists all the
+benefit I reap from books; and yet I make as little use of them,
+almost, as those who know them not: I enjoy them as a miser does his
+money, in knowing that I may enjoy them when I please: my mind is
+satisfied with this right of possession. I never travel without books,
+either in peace or war; and yet sometimes I pass over several days,
+and sometimes months, without looking on them: I will read by and by,
+say I to myself, or to-morrow, or when I please; and in the interim,
+time steals away without any inconvenience. For it is not to be
+imagined to what degree I please myself and rest content in this
+consideration, that I have them by me to divert myself with them when
+I am disposed, and to call to mind what a refreshment they are to my
+life. 'Tis the best viaticum I have yet found out for this human
+journey, and I very much pity those men of understanding who are
+unprovided of it. I the rather accept of any other sort of diversion,
+how light soever, because this can never fail me.
+
+[Footnote 21: From the essay entitled "Of Three Commerces," Book III,
+Chapter III. The translation of Charles Cotton, as revised by William
+Carew Hazlitt.]
+
+When at home, I a little more frequent my library, whence I overlook
+at once all the concerns of my family. 'Tis situated at the entrance
+into my house, and I thence see under me my garden, court, and
+base-court, and almost all parts of the building. There I turn over
+now one book, and then another, on various subjects without method or
+design. One while I meditate, another I record and dictate, as I walk
+to and fro, such whimsies as these I present to you here. 'Tis in the
+third story of a tower, of which the ground room is my chapel, the
+second story a chamber with a withdrawing-room and closet, where I
+often lie, to be more retired; and above is a great wardrobe. This
+formerly was the most useless part of the house. I there pass away
+both most of the days of my life and most of the hours of those days.
+In the night I am never there. There is by the side of it a cabinet
+handsome enough, with a fireplace very commodiously contrived, and
+plenty of light: and were I not more afraid of the trouble than the
+expense--the trouble that frights me from all business, I could very
+easily adjoin on either side, and on the same floor, a gallery of an
+hundred paces long, and twelve broad, having found walls already
+raised for some other design, to the requisite height.
+
+Every place of retirement requires a walk: my thoughts sleep if I sit
+still; my fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it: and
+all those who study without a book are in the same condition. The
+figure of my study is round, and there is no more open wall than what
+is taken up by my table and my chair, so that the remaining parts of
+the circle present me a view of all my books at once, ranged upon five
+rows of shelves around about me. It has three noble and free
+prospects, and is sixteen paces in diameter I am not so continually
+there in winter; for my house is built upon an eminence, as its name
+imports, and no part of it is so much exposed to the wind and weather
+as this, which pleases me the better, as being of more difficult
+access and a little remote, as well upon the account of exercise, as
+also being there more retired from the crowd. 'Tis there that I am in
+my kingdom, and there I endeavor to make myself an absolute monarch,
+and to sequester this one corner from all society, conjugal, filial,
+and civil; elsewhere I have but verbal authority only, and of a
+confused essence. That man, in my opinion, is very miserable, who has
+not a home where to be by himself, where to entertain himself alone,
+or to conceal himself from others. Ambition sufficiently plagues her
+proselytes, by keeping them always in show, like the statue of a
+public square: "Magna servitus est magna fortuna." They can not so
+much as be private in the water-closet. I have thought nothing so
+severe in the austerity of life that our monks affect, as what I have
+observed in some of their communities; namely, by rule to have a
+perpetual society of place, and numerous persons present in every
+action whatever: and think it much more supportable to be always
+alone, than never to be so.
+
+If any one shall tell me that it is to undervalue the muses, to make
+use of them only for sport and to pass away the time, I shall tell
+him, that he does not know, so well as I, the value of the sport, the
+pleasure, and the pastime; I can hardly forbear to add that all other
+end is ridiculous. I live from hand to mouth, and, with reverence be
+it spoken, I only live for myself; there all my designs terminate. I
+studied, when young, for ostentation; since, to make myself a little
+wiser; and now for my diversion, but never for any profit. A vain and
+prodigal humor I had after this sort of furniture, not only for the
+supplying my own need, but, moreover, for ornament and outward show, I
+have since quite cured myself of.
+
+Books have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose them;
+but every good has its ill; 'tis a pleasure that is not pure and
+clean, no more than others: it has its inconveniences, and great ones
+too. The soul indeed is exercised therein; but the body, the care of
+which I must withal never neglect, remains in the mean time without
+action, and grows heavy and somber. I know no excess more prejudicial
+to me, nor more to be avoided in this my declining age.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THAT THE SOUL DISCHARGES HER PASSIONS UPON FALSE OBJECTS WHERE TRUE
+ONES ARE WANTING[22]
+
+
+A gentleman of my country, who was very often tormented with the gout,
+being importun'd by his physicians totally to reclaim his appetite
+from all manner of salt meats, was wont presently to reply that he
+must needs have something to quarrel with in the extremity of his
+fits, and that he fancy'd that railing at and cursing one while the
+Bologna sausages, and another the dry'd tongues and the hams, was some
+mitigation to his pain. And in good earnest, as the arm when it is
+advanced to strike, if it fail of meeting with that upon which it was
+design'd to discharge the blow, and spends itself in vain, does offend
+the striker himself; and as also, that to make a pleasant prospect the
+sight should not be lost and dilated in a vast extent of empty air,
+but have some bounds to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable
+distance:
+
+ "As winds do lose their strength, unless withstood
+ By some dark grove of strong opposing wood."
+
+[Footnote 22: The translation of Cotton before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.]
+
+So it appears that the soul, being transported and discompos'd, turns
+its violence upon itself, if not supply'd with something to oppose it,
+and therefore always requires an enemy as an object on which to
+discharge its fury and resentment. Plutarch says very well of those
+who are delighted with little dogs and monkeys, that the amorous part
+which is in us, for want of a legitimate object, rather than lie idle,
+does after that manner forge, and create one frivolous and false; as
+we see that the soul in the exercise of its passions inclines rather
+to deceive itself, by creating a false and fantastical subject, even
+contrary to its own relief, than not to have something to work upon.
+And after this manner brute beasts direct their fury to fall upon the
+stone or weapon that has hurt them, and with their teeth even execute
+their revenge upon themselves, for the injury they have receiv'd from
+another.
+
+ So the fierce bear, made fiercer by the smart
+ Of the bold Lybian's mortal guided dart,
+ Turns round upon the wound, and the tough spear
+ Contorted o'er her breast does flying bear
+ Down....
+
+--_Claudian_.
+
+What causes of the misadventures that befall us do we not invent? What
+is it that we do not lay the fault to right or wrong, that we may have
+something to quarrel with? Those beautiful tresses, young lady, you
+may so liberally tear off, are no way guilty, nor is it the whiteness
+of those delicate breasts you so unmercifully beat, that with an
+unlucky bullet has slain your beloved brother: quarrel with something
+else. Livy, Dec. 3, l. 5., speaking of the Roman army in Spain, says
+that for the loss of two brothers, who were both great captains,
+"_Flere omnes repente et offensare capita_," that they all wept, and
+tore their hair. 'Tis the common practise of affliction. And the
+philosopher Bion said pleasantly of the king, who by handfuls pull'd
+his hair off his head for sorrow, "Does this man think that baldness
+is a remedy for grief?" Who has not seen peevish gamesters worry the
+cards with their teeth, and swallow whole bales of dice in revenge for
+the loss of their money? Xerxes whipt the sea, and wrote a challenge
+to Mount Athos; Cyrus employ'd a whole army several days at work, to
+revenge himself of the river Gnidus, for the fright it had put him
+into in passing over; and Caligula demolish'd a very beautiful palace
+for the pleasure his mother had once enjoy'd there. I remember there
+was a story current, when I was a boy, that one of our neighboring
+kings, having receiv'd a blow from the hand of God, swore he would be
+reveng'd, and in order to it, made proclamation that for ten years to
+come no one should pray to him, or so much as mention him throughout
+his dominions; by which we are not so much to take measure of the
+folly, as the vain-glory of the nation of which this tale was told.
+They are vices that, indeed, always go together; but such actions as
+these have in them more of presumption than want of wit. Augustus
+Caesar, having been tost with a tempest at sea, fell to defying
+Neptune, and in the pomp of the Circensian games, to be reveng'd,
+depos'd his statue from the place it had amongst the other deities.
+Wherein he was less excusable than the former, and less than he was
+afterward, when having lost a battle under Quintilius Varus in
+Germany, in rage and despair he went running his head against the
+walls, and crying out, O Varus! give me my men again! for this exceeds
+all folly, for as much as impiety is joined with it, invading God
+himself, or at least Fortune, as if she had ears that were subject to
+our batteries; like the Thracians, who, when it thunders, or lightens,
+fall to shooting against heaven with Titanian madness, as if by
+flights of arrows they intended to reduce God Almighty to reason. Tho
+the ancient poet in Plutarch tells us,
+
+ "We must not quarrel heaven in our affairs."
+
+But we can never enough decry nor sufficiently condemn the senseless
+and ridiculous sallies of our unruly passions.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THAT MEN ARE NOT TO JUDGE OF OUR HAPPINESS TILL AFTER DEATH[23]
+
+
+Every one is acquainted with the story of King Croesus to this
+purpose, who being taken prisoner by Cyrus, and by him condemn'd to
+die, as he was going to execution, cry'd out, "O Solon, Solon!" which
+being presently reported to Cyrus, and he sending to inquire what it
+meant, Croesus gave him to understand that he now found the
+advertisement Solon had formerly given him true to his cost, which
+was, "That men, however fortune may smile upon them, could never be
+said to be happy, till they had been seen to pass over the last day
+of their lives, by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of human
+things, which upon very light and trivial occasions are subject to be
+totally chang'd into a quite contrary condition."
+
+[Footnote 23: The translation of Cotton, before it was revised by
+Hazlitt.]
+
+And therefore it was, that Agesilaus made answer to one that was
+saying, "What a happy young man the King of Persia was to come so
+young to so mighty a kingdom." "'Tis true [said he], but neither was
+Priam unhappy at his years." In a short time, of kings of Macedon,
+successors to that mighty Alexander, were made joyners and scriveners
+at Rome; of a tyrant of Sicily, a pedant at Corinth; of a conqueror of
+one-half of the world, and general of so many armies, a miserable
+suppliant to the rascally officers of a king of Egypt. So much the
+prolongation of five or six months of life cost the great and noble
+Pompey, and no longer since than our fathers' days, Ludovico Sforza,
+the tenth duke of Milan, whom all Italy had so long truckled under,
+was seen to die a wretched prisoner at Loches, but not till he had
+lived ten years in captivity, which was the worst part of his fortune.
+The fairest of all queens (Mary, Queen of Scots), widow to the
+greatest king in Europe,[24] did she not come to die by the hand of an
+executioner? Unworthy and barbarous cruelty! and a thousand more
+examples there are of the same kind; for it seems that as storms and
+tempests have a malice to the proud and overtow'ring heights of our
+lofty buildings, there are also spirits above that are envious of the
+grandeurs here below.
+
+[Footnote 24: Francis II of France, to whom she was married in 1558
+and who died two years afterward.]
+
+ _Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam
+ Obterit, et pulchros fasces, saevasque secures
+ Proculcare ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur._
+
+--_Lucret._, l. 5.
+
+And it should seem also that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to
+surprize the last hour of our lives, to show the power she has in a
+moment to overthrow what she was so many years in building, making us
+cry out with Laborius, "_Nimirum hac die una plus vixi mihi quam
+vivendum fuit._"--Macrob., l. 2., c. 2. "I have liv'd longer by this
+one day than I ought to have done." And in this sense, this good
+advice of Solon may reasonably be taken; but he being a philosopher,
+with which sort of men the favors and disgraces of fortune stand for
+nothing, either to the making a man happy or unhappy, and with whom
+grandeurs and powers, accidents of quality, are upon the matter
+indifferent: I am apt to think that he had some further aim, and that
+his meaning was that the very felicity of life itself, which depends
+upon the tranquillity and contentment of a well-descended spirit, and
+the resolution and assurance of a well-order'd soul, ought never to be
+attributed to any man, till he has first been seen to play the last,
+and doubtless the hardest act of his part, because there may be
+disguise and dissimulation in all the rest, where these fine
+philosophical discourses are only put on; and where accidents do not
+touch us to the quick, they give us leisure to maintain the same sober
+gravity; but in this last scene of death, there is no more
+counterfeiting; we must speak plain, and must discover what there is
+of pure and clean in the bottom.
+
+ _Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo
+ Ejiciuntur, et eripitur persona manet res._
+
+--_Lucret._, l. 3.
+
+ "Then that at last truth issues from the heart.
+ The vizor's gone, we act our own true part."
+
+Wherefore at this last all the other actions of our life ought to be
+try'd and sifted. 'Tis the master-day, 'tis the day that is judge of
+all the rest, 'tis the day (says one of the ancients) that ought to
+judge of all my foregoing years. To death do I refer the essay of the
+fruit of all my studies. We shall then see whether my discourses came
+only from my mouth or from my heart. I have seen many by their death
+give a good or an ill repute to their whole life. Scipio, the
+father-in-law of Pompey the Great, in dying well, wip'd away the ill
+opinion that till then every one had conceived of him. Epaminondas
+being ask'd which of the three he had in the greatest esteem,
+Chabrias, Iphicrates, or himself; "You must first see us die (said he)
+before that question can be resolv'd": and, in truth, he would
+infinitely wrong that great man, who would weigh him without the honor
+and grandeur of his end.
+
+God Almightly had order'd all things as it has best pleased Him; but I
+have in my time seen three of the most execrable persons that ever I
+knew in all manners of abominable living, and the most infamous to
+boot, who all dy'd a very regular death, and in all circumstances
+compos'd even to perfection. There are brave, and fortunate deaths. I
+have seen death cut the thread of the progress of a prodigious
+advancement, and in the height and flower of its increase of a certain
+person, with so glorious an end, that in my opinion his ambitious and
+generous designs had nothing in them so high and great as their
+interruption; and he arrived without completing his course, at the
+place to which his ambition pretended with greater glory than he could
+himself either hope or desire, and anticipated by his fall the name
+and power to which he aspir'd, by perfecting his career. In the
+judgment I make of another man's life, I always observe how he carried
+himself at his death; and the principal concern I have for my own is
+that I may die handsomely; that is, patiently and without noise.
+
+
+
+
+RENE DESCARTES
+
+ Born in Touraine in 1596, died in Stockholm in 1650; founder
+ of modern general philosophy; educated at a Jesuit college
+ in France; lived in Paris in 1613-18; at the siege of La
+ Rochelle in 1628; in retirement in Holland in 1629-49;
+ defending his philosophical ideas; his first famous work,
+ "Discours de la Methode," published in Leyden in 1637;
+ published "Meditations of Philosophy" in 1641; a treatise on
+ the passion of love in 1649; other works published after his
+ death; famous as a mathematician as well as philosopher, his
+ geometry being still standard in Europe.
+
+
+
+
+OF MATERIAL THINGS AND OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD[25]
+
+
+Several questions remain for consideration respecting the attributes
+of God and my own nature or mind. I will, however, on some other
+occasion perhaps resume the investigation of these. Meanwhile, as I
+have discovered what must be done and what avoided to arrive at the
+knowledge of truth, what I have chiefly to do is to essay to emerge
+from the state of doubt in which I have for some time been, and to
+discover whether anything can be known with certainty regarding
+material objects. But before considering whether such objects as I
+conceive exist without me, I must examine their ideas in so far as
+these are to be found in my consciousness, and discover which of them
+are distinct and which confused.
+
+[Footnote 25: From the "Meditations," translated by John Veitch.]
+
+In the first place, I distinctly imagine that quantity which the
+philosophers commonly call continuous, or the extension in length,
+breadth, and depth that is in this quantity, or rather in the object
+to which it is attributed. Further, I can enumerate in it many diverse
+parts, and attribute to each of these all sorts of sizes, figures,
+situations, and local motions; and, in fine, I can assign to each of
+these motions all degrees of duration. And I not only distinctly know
+these things when I thus consider them in general; but besides, by a
+little attention, I discover innumerable particulars respecting
+figures, numbers, motion, and the like, which are so evidently true,
+and so accordant with my nature, that when I now discover them I do
+not so much appear to learn anything new as to call to remembrance
+what I before knew, or for the first time to remark what was before in
+my mind, but to which I had not hitherto directed my attention. And
+what I here find of most importance is, that I discover in my mind
+innumerable ideas of certain objects, which can not be esteemed pure
+negations, altho perhaps they possess no reality beyond my thought,
+and which are not framed by me, tho it may be in my power to think, or
+not to think them, but possess true and immutable natures of their
+own.
+
+As, for example, when I imagine a triangle, altho there is not perhaps
+and never was in any place in the universe apart from my thought one
+such figure, it remains true, nevertheless, that this figure possesses
+a certain determinate nature, form, or essence, which is immutable and
+eternal, and not framed by me, nor in any degree dependent on my
+thought; as appears from the circumstance, that diverse properties of
+the triangle may be demonstrated, viz., that its three angles are
+equal to two right, that its greatest side is subtended by its
+greatest angle, and the like, which, whether I will or not, I now
+clearly discern to belong to it, altho before I did not at all think
+of them, when, for the first time, I imagined a triangle, and which
+accordingly can not be said to have been invented by me.
+
+Nor is it a valid objection to allege that perhaps this idea of a
+triangle came into my mind by the medium of the senses, through my
+having seen bodies of a triangular figure; for I am able to form in
+thought an innumerable variety of figures with regard to which it can
+not be supposed that they were ever objects of sense, and I can
+nevertheless demonstrate diverse properties of their nature no less
+than of the triangle, all of which are assuredly true since I clearly
+conceive them: and they are therefore something, and not mere
+negations; for it is highly evident that all that is true is something
+(truth being identical with existence); and I have already fully shown
+the truth of the principle, that whatever is clearly and distinctly
+known is true. And altho this had not been demonstrated, yet the
+nature of my mind is such as to compel me to assent to what I clearly
+conceive while I so conceive it; and I recollect that even when I
+still strongly adhered to the objects of sense, I reckoned among the
+number of the most certain truths those I clearly conceived relating
+to figures, numbers, and other matters that pertain to arithmetic and
+geometry, and in general to the pure mathematics.
+
+But now if because I can draw from my thought the idea of an object it
+follows that all I clearly and distinctly apprehend to pertain to this
+object does in truth belong to it, may I not from this derive an
+argument for the existence of God? It is certain that I no less find
+the idea of a God in my consciousness, that is, the idea of a being
+supremely perfect, than that of any figure or number whatever: and I
+know with not less clearness and distinctness that an (actual and
+eternal) existence pertains to his nature than that all which is
+demonstrable of any figure or number really belongs to the nature of
+that figure or number; and, therefore, altho all the conclusions of
+the preceding "Meditations" were false, the existence of God would
+pass with me for a truth at least as certain as I ever judged any
+truth of mathematics to be, altho indeed such a doctrine may at first
+sight appear to contain more sophistry than truth. For, as I have been
+accustomed in every other matter to distinguish between existence and
+essence, I easily believe that the existence can be separated from the
+essence of God, and that thus God may be conceived as not actually
+existing. But, nevertheless, when I think of it more attentively, it
+appears that the existence can no more be separated from the essence
+of God than the idea of a mountain from that of a valley, or the
+equality of its three angles to two right angles, from the essence of
+a (rectilineal) triangle; so that it is not less impossible to
+conceive a God, that is, a being supremely perfect, to whom existence
+is wanting, or who is devoid of a certain perfection, than to conceive
+a mountain without a valley.
+
+But tho, in truth, I can not conceive a God unless as existing, any
+more than I can a mountain without a valley, yet, just as it does not
+follow that there is any mountain in the world merely because I
+conceive a mountain with a valley, so likewise, tho I conceive God as
+existing, it does not seem to follow on that account that God exists;
+for my thought imposes no necessity on things; and as I may imagine a
+winged horse, tho there be none such, so I could perhaps attribute
+existence to God, tho no God existed. But the cases are not analogous,
+and a fallacy lurks under the semblance of this objection: for because
+I can not conceive a mountain without a valley, it does not follow
+that there is any mountain or valley in existence, but simply that the
+mountain or valley, whether they do or do not exist, are inseparable
+from each other; whereas, on the other hand, because I can not
+conceive God unless as existing, it follows that existence is
+inseparable from Him, and therefore that He really exists: not that
+this is brought about by my thought, or that it imposes any necessity
+on things, but, on the contrary, the necessity which lies in the thing
+itself, that is, the necessity of the existence of God, determines me
+to think in this way: for it is not in my power to conceive a God
+without existence, that is, a being supremely perfect, and yet devoid
+of an absolute perfection, as I am free to imagine a horse with or
+without wings.
+
+
+
+
+DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
+
+ Born in 1613, died in 1680; a duke and prince of distinction
+ in his own day, but now known through his "Maxims,"
+ "Memoirs" and "Letters"; his "Maxims" first issued
+ anonymously in 1665; a sixth edition, published in 1693,
+ contains fifty additional maxims; his Letters not published
+ until 1818.
+
+
+
+
+A SELECTION FROM THE "MAXIMS"[26]
+
+
+The contempt of riches in philosophers was only a hidden desire to
+avenge their merit upon the injustice of fortune, by despising the
+very goods of which fortune had deprived them; it was a secret to
+guard themselves against the degradation of poverty; it was a back way
+by which to arrive at that distinction which they could not gain by
+riches.
+
+[Footnote 26: From the translation by J. W. Willis Bund and J. Hain
+Friswell. At least eight English translations of La Rochefoucauld had
+appeared before 1870--including the years 1689, 1694, 1706, 1749, 1799
+and 1815. Besides these, Swedish, Spanish and Italian translations
+have been made. The first English version (1689), appears to have been
+made by Mrs. Aphra Behn, the barber's daughter, upon whom has been
+conferred the distinction of being "the first female writer who lived
+by her pen in England." One of the later translations is by A. S.
+Bolton. The translation by Messrs. Bund and Friswell includes fifty
+additional maxims attributed to La Rochefoucauld.]
+
+Perfect valor is to do without witnesses what one would do before all
+the world.
+
+As it is the mark of great minds to say many things in a few words,
+so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.
+
+Who lives without folly is not so wise as he thinks.
+
+There is no disguise which can long hide love where it exists, nor
+feign it where it does not.
+
+The gratitude of most men is but a secret desire of receiving greater
+benefits.
+
+Almost all the world takes pleasure in paying small debts; many people
+show gratitude for trifling, but there is hardly one who does not show
+ingratitude for great favors.
+
+Nothing is rarer than true good nature; those who think they have it
+are generally only pliant or weak.
+
+There is no less eloquence in the voice, in the eyes and in the air of
+a speaker than in his choice of words.
+
+True eloquence consists in saying all that should be, not all that
+could be said.
+
+There are people whose faults become them, others whose very virtues
+disgrace them.
+
+We are never so happy or so unhappy as we suppose.
+
+Our enemies come nearer the truth in the opinions they form of us than
+we do in our opinion of ourselves.
+
+Most people judge men only by success or by fortune.
+
+Love of glory, fear of shame, greed of fortune, the desire to make
+life agreeable and comfortable, and the wish to depreciate others are
+often causes of that bravery so vaunted among men.
+
+The fame of great men ought always to be estimated by the means used
+to acquire it.
+
+If we never flattered ourselves the flattery of others would not hurt
+us.
+
+When great men permit themselves to be cast down by the continuance of
+misfortune, they show us that they were only sustained by ambition,
+and not by their mind; so that _plus_ a great vanity, heroes are made
+like other men.
+
+We may forgive those who bore us, we can not forgive those whom we
+bore.
+
+To praise good actions heartily is in some measure to take part in
+them.
+
+There is a kind of greatness which does not depend upon fortune: it is
+a certain manner that distinguishes us, and which seems to destine us
+for great things: it is the value we insensibly set upon ourselves; it
+is by this quality that we gain the deference of other men, and it is
+this which commonly raises us more above them than birth, rank, or
+even merit itself.
+
+The cause why the majority of women are so little given to friendship
+is, that it is insipid after having felt love.
+
+Women can not be completely severe unless they hate.
+
+The praise we give to new comers into the world arises from the envy
+we bear to those who are established.
+
+Little minds are too much wounded by little things; great minds see
+all and are not even hurt.
+
+Most young people think they are natural when they are only boorish
+and rude.
+
+To establish ourselves in the world we do everything to appear as if
+we were established.
+
+Why we hate with so much bitterness those who deceive us is because
+they think themselves more clever than we are.
+
+Too great a hurry to discharge an obligation is a kind of ingratitude.
+
+The moderation of those who are happy arises from the calm which good
+fortune bestows upon their temper.
+
+Pride is much the same in all men; the only difference is the method
+and manner of showing it.
+
+The constancy of the wise is only the talent of concealing the
+agitation of their hearts.
+
+Whatever difference there appears in our fortunes, there is
+nevertheless a certain compensation of good and evil which renders
+them equal.
+
+What we term virtue is often but a mass of various actions and divers
+interests, which fortune, or our own industry, manage to arrange; and
+it is not always from valor or from chastity that men are brave, and
+women chaste.
+
+Most men expose themselves in battle enough to save their honor, few
+wish to do so more than sufficiently, or than is necessary to make the
+design for which they expose themselves succeed.
+
+If we never flattered ourselves we should have but scant pleasure.
+
+Sincerity is an openness of heart; we find it in very few people; what
+we usually see is only an artful dissimulation to win the confidence
+of others.
+
+We may find women who have never indulged in an intrigue, but it is
+rare to find those who have intrigued but once.
+
+Every one blames his memory, no one blames his judgment.
+
+In the intercourse of life, we please more by our faults than by our
+good qualities.
+
+We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our friends when they
+enable us to prove our tenderness for them.
+
+Virtue in woman is often the love of reputation and repose.
+
+He is a truly good man who desires always to bear the inspection of
+good men.
+
+We frequently do good to enable us with impunity to do evil.
+
+Every one praises his heart, none dare praise their understanding.
+
+He is really wise who is nettled at nothing.
+
+Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.[27]
+
+In the adversity of our best friends we always find something which is
+not wholly displeasing to us.[28]
+
+[Footnote 27: A maxim similar to this has been found in the writings
+of other men. Thus Massillon, in one of his sermons, said, "Vice pays
+homage to virtue in doing honor to her appearance"; and Junius,
+writing to the Duke of Grafton, said, "You have done as much mischief
+to the community as Machiavel, if Machiavel had not known that an
+appearance of morals and religion are useful in society." Both,
+however, lived in a period subsequent to that in which La
+Rochefoucauld wrote.]
+
+[Footnote 28: This maxim, which more than any other has caused La
+Rochefoucauld to be criticized severely as a cynic, if not a
+misanthrope, appeared only in the first two editions of the book. In
+the others, published in the author's lifetime, it was supprest. In
+defense of the author, it has been maintained that what he meant by
+the saying was that the pleasure derived from a friend's misfortunes
+has its origin in the opportunity thus afforded to give him help. The
+reader should compare this saying with another that is included in
+these selections, "We are easily consoled at the misfortunes of our
+friends when they enable us to prove our tenderness for them."]
+
+The confidence we have in ourselves arises in a great measure from
+that that we have in others.
+
+Women for the most part surrender themselves more from weakness than
+from passion. Whence it is that bold and pushing men succeed better
+than others, altho they are not so lovable.
+
+The great ones of the earth can neither command health of body nor
+repose of mind, and they buy always at too dear a price the good they
+can acquire.
+
+Few things are needed to make a wise man happy; nothing can make a
+fool content; that is why most men are miserable.
+
+The harm that others do us is often less than that we do ourselves.
+
+Magnanimity is a noble effort of pride which makes a man master of
+himself, to make him master of all things.
+
+
+
+
+BLAISE PASCAL
+
+ Born in France in 1623, died in 1662; educated in Paris;
+ became celebrated at seventeen for a work on conic sections;
+ became connected with the monastery at Port Royal, whose
+ doctrines he defended against the Jesuits; published
+ "Entretien sur Epictete et Montaigne" in 1655; wrote his
+ "Provincial Letters" in 1656-57; in his last days engaged on
+ an "Apologie de la Religion Catholique" which, uncompleted,
+ was published in 1670 as his "Pensees."
+
+
+
+
+OF THE PREVALENCE OF SELF-LOVE[29]
+
+
+Self is hateful. You, Milton, conceal self, but do not thereby destroy
+it; therefore you are still hateful. Not so, for in acting as we do,
+to oblige everybody, we give no reason for hating us. True, if we only
+hated in self the vexation which it causes us. But if I hate it
+because it is unjust, and because it makes itself the center of all, I
+shall always hate it.
+
+[Footnote 29: From the "Thoughts." Many translations have been made of
+Pascal's "Thoughts"--one in 1680 by J. Walker, one in 1704 by Basil
+Kennet, one in 1825 by Edward Craig. A more modern one is by C. Kegan
+Paul, the London publisher, who was also a man of letters. Early
+translations from the older French, Italian and other Continental
+writers have frequently come down to us without mention of
+translators' names on title-pages or in the prefatory matter.]
+
+In one word, Self has two qualities: it is unjust in its essence,
+because it makes itself the center of all; it is inconvenient to
+others, in that it would bring them into subjection, for each "I" is
+the enemy, and would fain be the tyrant of all others. You take away
+the inconvenience, but not the injustice, and thus you do not render
+it lovable to those who hate injustice; you render it lovable only to
+the unjust, who find in it an enemy no longer. Thus you remain unjust
+and can please none but the unjust.
+
+OF SELF-LOVE.--The nature of self-love and of this human "I" is to
+love self only, and consider self only. But what can it do? It can not
+prevent the object it loves from being full of faults and miseries;
+man would fain be great and sees that he is little; would fain be
+happy, and sees that he is miserable; would fain be perfect, and sees
+that he is full of imperfections; would fain be the object of the love
+and esteem of men, and sees that his faults merit only their aversion
+and contempt. The embarrassment wherein he finds himself produces in
+him the most unjust and criminal passion imaginable. For he conceives
+a mortal hatred against that truth which blames him and convinces him
+of his faults. Desiring to annihilate it, yet unable to destroy it in
+its essence, he destroys it as much as he can in his own knowledge,
+and in that of others; that is to say, he devotes all his care to the
+concealment of his faults, both from others and from himself, and he
+can neither bear that others should show them to him, nor that they
+should see them.
+
+It is no doubt an evil to be full of faults, but it is a greater evil
+to be full of them, yet unwilling to recognize them, because that is
+to add the further fault of a voluntary illusion. We do not like
+others to deceive us, we do not think it just in them to require more
+esteem from us than they deserve; it is therefore unjust that we
+should deceive them, desiring more esteem from them than we deserve.
+
+Thus if they discover no more imperfections and vices in us than we
+really have, it is plain they do us no wrong, since it is not they who
+cause them; but rather they who do us a service, since they help us to
+deliver ourselves from an evil, the ignorance of these imperfections.
+We ought not to be troubled that they know our faults and despise us,
+since it is but just they should know us as we are, and despise us if
+we are despicable.
+
+Such are the sentiments which would arise in a heart full of equity
+and justice. What should we say then of our own heart, finding in it a
+wholly contrary disposition? For is it not true that we hate truth,
+and those who tell it us, and that we would wish them to have an
+erroneously favorable opinion of us, and to esteem us other than
+indeed we are?
+
+One proof of this fills me with dismay. The Catholic religion does not
+oblige us to tell out our sins indiscriminately to all; it allows us
+to remain hidden from men in general; but she excepts one alone, to
+whom she commands us to open the very depths of our hearts, and to
+show ourselves to him as we are. There is but this one man in the
+world whom she orders us to undeceive; she binds him to an inviolable
+secrecy, so that this knowledge is to him as tho it were not. We can
+imagine nothing more charitable and more tender. Yet such is the
+corruption of man, that he finds even this law harsh, and it is one of
+the main reasons which has set a large portion of Europe in revolt
+against the Church.
+
+How unjust and unreasonable is the human heart which finds it hard to
+be obliged to do in regard to one man what in some degree it were just
+to do to all men. For is it just that we should deceive them?
+
+There are different degrees in this dislike to the truth, but it may
+be said that all have it in some degree, for it is inseparable from
+self-love. This false delicacy causes those who must needs reprove
+others to choose so many windings and modifications in order to avoid
+shocking them. They must needs lessen our faults, seem to excuse them,
+mix praises with their blame, give evidences of affection and esteem.
+Yet this medicine is bitter to self-love, which takes as little as it
+can, always with disgust, often with a secret anger.
+
+Hence it happens that if any desire our love, they avoid doing us a
+service which they know to be disagreeable; they treat us as we would
+wish to be treated: we hate the truth, and they hide it from us; we
+wish to be flattered, they flatter us; we love to be deceived, they
+deceive us.
+
+Thus each degree of good fortune which raises us in the world removes
+us further from truth, because we fear most to wound those whose
+affection is most useful, and whose dislike is most dangerous. A
+prince may be the byword of all Europe, yet he alone know nothing of
+it. I am not surprized; to speak the truth is useful to whom it is
+spoken, but disadvantageous to those who speak it, since it makes them
+hated. Now those who live with princes love their own interests more
+than that of the prince they serve, and thus they take care not to
+benefit him so as to do themselves a disservice.
+
+This misfortune is, no doubt, greater and more common in the higher
+classes, but lesser men are not exempt from it, since there is always
+an interest in making men love us. Thus human life is but a perpetual
+illusion, an interchange of deceit and flattery. No one speaks of us
+in our presence as in our absence. The society of men is founded on
+this universal deceit; few friendships would last if every man knew
+what his friend said of him behind his back, tho he then spoke in
+sincerity and without passion.
+
+Man is, then, only disguise, falsehood, and hypocrisy, both in himself
+and with regard to others. He will not be told the truth; he avoids
+telling it to others; and all these tendencies, so far removed from
+justice and reason, have their natural roots in his heart.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE SEVIGNE
+
+ Born in Paris in 1626, died in 1696; married in 1644 to the
+ Marquis de Sevigne, who was killed in a duel in 1651; lived
+ late in life in Brittany; wrote to her married daughter,
+ Madame de Grigman, the famous letters from which has
+ proceeded her fame.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GREAT NEWS FROM PARIS[30]
+
+
+I am going to tell you a thing, the most astonishing, the most
+surprizing, the most marvelous, the most miraculous, the most
+magnificent, the most confounding, the most unheard-of, the most
+singular, the most extraordinary, the most incredible, the most
+unforeseen, the greatest, the least, the rarest, the most common, the
+most public, the most private till to-day, the most brilliant, the
+most inevitable; in short, a thing of which there is but one example
+in past ages, and that not an exact one either; a thing that we can
+not believe at Paris; how, then, will it gain credence at Lyons? a
+thing which makes everybody cry, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" a thing
+which causes the greatest joy to Madame de Rohan and Madame de
+Hauterive; a thing, in fine, which is to happen on Sunday next, when
+those who are present will doubt the evidence of their senses; a thing
+which, tho it is to be done on Sunday, yet perhaps will not be
+finished on Monday.
+
+[Footnote 30: From a letter dated Paris, December 15, 1670. George
+Saintsbury has described Madame de Sevigne as "the most charming of
+all letter-writers in all languages." Translations of these letters
+into English were made in 1732, 1745, 1764, and other years, including
+a version by Mackie in 1802.]
+
+I can not bring myself to tell you; guess what it is. I give you three
+times to do it in. What, not a word to throw at a dog? Well, then, I
+find I must tell you. Monsieur de Lauzun is to be married next Sunday
+at the Louvre, to--pray guess to whom! I give you four times to do it
+in,--I give you six,--I give you a hundred. Says Madame de Coulanges:
+"It is really very hard to guess; perhaps it is Madame de la
+Valliere."
+
+Indeed madame, it is not. "It is Mademoiselle de Retz, then." No, nor she
+either; you are extremely provincial. "Lord bless me," say you, "what
+stupid wretches we are! it is Mademoiselle de Colbert all the while." Nay,
+now you are still further from the mark. "Why, then, it must certainly be
+Mademoiselle de Crequy." You have it not yet. Well, I find I must tell you
+at last. He is to be married next Sunday at the Louvre, with the King's
+leave, to Mademoiselle--Mademoiselle de--Mademoiselle--guess, pray guess
+her name; he is to be married to Mademoiselle, the great Mademoiselle;
+Mademoiselle, daughter of the late Monsieur; Mademoiselle, granddaughter of
+Henry IV; Mademoiselle d'Eu, Mademoiselle de Dombes, Mademoiselle de
+Montpensier, Mademoiselle d'Orleans, Mademoiselle, the King's
+cousin-german--Mademoiselle, destined to the throne--Mademoiselle, the only
+match in France that was worthy of Monsieur.
+
+What glorious matter for talk! If you should burst forth like a
+bedlamite, say we have told you a lie, that it is false, that we are
+making a jest of you, and that a pretty jest it is, without wit or
+invention; in short, if you abuse us, we shall think you are quite in
+the right; for we have done just the same things ourselves. Farewell,
+you will find by the letters you receive this post whether we tell you
+truth or not.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+AN IMPOSING FUNERAL DESCRIBED[31]
+
+
+I must return to narration, it is a folly I can never resist. Prepare,
+therefore, for a description. I was yesterday at a service performed
+in honor of the Chancellor Segnier at the Oratory. Painting,
+sculpture, music, rhetoric--in a word, the four liberal arts--were at
+the expense of it. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the decorations;
+they were finely imagined, and designed by Le Brun. The mausoleum
+reached to the top of the dome, adorned with a thousand lamps, and a
+variety of figures characteristic of him in whose honor it was
+erected. Beneath were four figures of Death, bearing the marks of his
+several dignities, as having taken away his honors with his life. One
+of them held his helmet, another his ducal coronet, another the
+ensigns of his order, another his chancellor's mace. The four sister
+arts, painting, music, eloquence and sculpture, were represented in
+deep distress, bewailing the loss of their protector. The first
+representation was supported by the four virtues, fortitude,
+temperance, justice, and religion. Above these, four angels, or genii,
+received the soul of the deceased, and seemed preening their purple
+wings to bear their precious charge to heaven. The mausoleum was
+adorned with a variety of little seraphs who supported an illuminated
+shrine, which was fixt to the top of the cupola. Nothing so
+magnificent or so well imagined was ever seen; it is Le Brun's
+masterpiece. The whole church was adorned with pictures, devices, and
+emblems, which all bore some relation to the life, or office of the
+chancellor; and some of his noblest actions were represented in
+painting. Madame de Verneuil offered to purchase all the decoration at
+a great price; but it was unanimously resolved by those who had
+contributed to it to adorn a gallery with it, and to consecrate it as
+an everlasting monument of their gratitude and magnificence. The
+assembly was grand and numerous, but without confusion. I sat next to
+Monsieur de Tulle, Madame Colbert and the Duke of Monmouth, who is as
+handsome as when we saw him at the _palais royal_. (Let me tell you in
+a parenthesis that he is going to the army to join the King.) A young
+father of the Oratory came to speak the funeral oration. I desired
+Monsieur de Tulle to bid him come down, and to mount the pulpit in his
+place; since nothing could sustain the beauty of the spectacle, and
+the excellence of the music but the force of his eloquence.
+
+[Footnote 31: From a letter to her daughter, dated Paris, May 6,
+1672.]
+
+My child, this young man trembled when he began, and we all trembled
+for him. Our ears were at first struck with a provincial accent; he is
+of Marseilles, and called Lene. But as he recovered from his
+confusion, he became so brilliant; established himself so well, gave
+so just a measure of praise to the deceased; touched with so much
+address and delicacy all the passages in his life where delicacy was
+required! placed in so true a light all that was most worthy of
+admiration; employed all the charms of expression, all the masterly
+strokes of eloquence with so much propriety and so much grace that
+every one present, without exception, burst into applause, charmed
+with so perfect, so finished a performance. He is twenty-eight years
+of age, the intimate friend of M. de Tulle, who accompanied him when
+he left the assembly. We were for naming him the Chevalier Mascaron,
+and I think he will even surpass his friend. As for the music, it was
+fine beyond all description. Baptiste exerted himself to the utmost,
+and was assisted by all the King's musicians. There was an addition
+made to that fine "Miserere," and there was a "Libera" which filled
+the eyes of the whole assembly with tears; I do not think the music in
+heaven could exceed it. There were several prelates present. I desired
+Guitaut to look for the good Bishop of Marseilles, but we could not
+see him. I whispered him that if it had been the funeral oration of
+any person living to whom he might have made his court by it he would
+not have failed to have been there. This little pleasantry made us
+laugh, in spite of the solemnity of the ceremony. My dear child, what
+a strange letter is this! I fancy I have almost lost my senses! What
+is this long account to you? To tell the truth, I have satisfied my
+love of description.
+
+
+
+
+ALAIN RENE LE SAGE
+
+ Born in France in 1668, died in 1747; studied philosophy and
+ law in Paris; wrote many novels and plays, some of them
+ borrowed from Spanish originals; published his chief work,
+ "Gil Blas," in 1715-35.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+IN THE SERVICE OF DR. SANGRADO[32]
+
+
+I determined to throw myself in the way of Signor Arias de Londona,
+and to look out for a new berth in his register; but as I was on my
+way to No Thoroughfare, who should come across me but Doctor Sangrado,
+whom I had not seen since the day of my master's death. I took the
+liberty of touching my hat. He kenned me in a twinkling, tho I had
+changed my dress; and with as much warmth as his temperament would
+allow him, "Heyday!" said he, "the very lad I wanted to see; you have
+never been out of my thought. I have occasion for a clever fellow
+about me, and pitched upon you as the very thing, if you can read and
+write." "Sir," replied I, "if that is all you require, I am your man."
+"In that case," rejoined he, "we need look no further. Come home with
+me: it will be all comfort; I shall behave to you like a brother. You
+will have no wages, but everything will be found you. You shall eat
+and drink according to the true faith, and be taught to cure all
+diseases. In a word, you shall rather be my young Sangrado than my
+footman."
+
+[Footnote 32: From "Gil Blas," which is perhaps as well known in
+English as in French, innumerable translations having been made. The
+best known is the one by Tobias Smollett, which has survived in favor
+to the present time. A translation by P. Proctor appeared in 1774, one
+by Martin Smart in 1807, and one by Benjamin H. Malkin in 1809.]
+
+I closed in with the doctor's proposal, in the hope of becoming an
+Esculapius under so inspired a master. He carried me home on the spur
+of the occasion, to install me in my honorable employment; which
+honorable employment consisted in writing down the name and residence
+of the patients who sent for him in his absence. There had indeed been
+a register for this purpose, kept by an old domestic; but she had not
+the gift of spelling accurately, and wrote a most perplexing hand.
+This account I was to keep. It might truly be called a bill of
+mortality; for my members all went from bad to worse during the short
+time they continued in this system. I was a sort of bookkeeper for the
+other world, to take places in the stage, and to see that the first
+come were the first served. My pen was always in my hand, for Doctor
+Sangrado had more practise than any physician of his time in
+Valladolid. He had got into reputation with the public by a certain
+professional slang, humored by a medical face, and some extraordinary
+cases more honored by implicit faith than scrupulous investigation.
+
+He was in no want of patients, nor consequently of property. He did
+not keep the best house in the world: we lived with some little
+attention to economy. The usual bill of fare consisted of peas,
+beans, boiled apples or cheese. He considered this food as best suited
+to the human stomach; that is to say, as most amenable to the
+grinders, whence it was to encounter the process of digestion.
+Nevertheless, easy as was their passage, he was not for stopping the
+way with too much of them; and to be sure, he was in the right. But
+tho he cautioned the maid and me against repletion in respect of
+solids, it was made up by free permission to drink as much water as we
+liked. Far from prescribing us any limits in that direction, he would
+tell us sometimes: "Drink, my children: health consists in the
+pliability and moisture of the parts. Drink water by pailfuls: it is a
+universal dissolvent; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of
+the blood a little sluggish? this grand principle sets it forward: too
+rapid? its career is checked." Our doctor was so orthodox on this head
+that the advanced in years, he drank nothing himself but water. He
+defined old age to be a natural consumption which dries us up and
+wastes us away: on this principle he deplored the ignorance of those
+who call wine "old men's milk." He maintained that wine wears them out
+and corrodes them; and pleaded with all the force of his eloquence
+against that liquor, fatal in common both to the young and old--that
+friend with a serpent in its bosom--that pleasure with a dagger under
+its girdle.
+
+In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week a looseness
+ensued, with some twinges, which I was blasphemous enough to saddle on
+the universal dissolvent and the new-fangled diet. I stated my
+symptoms to my master, in the hope that he would relax the rigor of
+his regimen and qualify my meals with a little wine; but his hostility
+to that liquor was inflexible. "If you have not philosophy enough,"
+said he, "for pure water, there are innocent infusions to strengthen
+the stomach against the nausea of aqueous quaffings. Sage, for
+example, has a very pretty flavor; and if you wish to heighten it into
+a debauch, it is only mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples
+with it--but no compounds."
+
+In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of
+composing delicious messes. I was so abstemious that, remarking my
+moderation, he said: "In good sooth, Gil Bias, I marvel not that you
+are no better than you are: you do not drink enough, my friend. Water
+taken in a small quantity serves only to separate the particles of
+bile and set them in action; but our practise is to drown them in a
+copious drench. Fear not, my good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid
+should either weaken or chill your stomach; far from thy better
+judgment be that silly fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you
+against all consequences; and if my authority will not serve your
+turn, read Celsus. That oracle of the ancient makes an admirable
+panegyric on water; in short, he says in plain terms that those who
+plead an inconstant stomach in favor of wine, publish a libel on their
+own viscera, and make their constitution a pretense for their
+sensuality."
+
+As it would have been ungenteel in me to run riot on my entrance into
+the career of practise, I affected thorough conviction; indeed, I
+thought there was something in it. I therefore went on drinking water
+on the authority of Celsus, or to speak in scientific terms, I began
+to drown the bile in copious drenches of that unadulterated liquor;
+and tho I felt myself more out of order from day to day, prejudice won
+the cause against experience. It is evident therefore that I was in
+the right road to the practise of physic. Yet I could not always be
+insensible to the qualms which increased in my frame, to that degree
+as to determine me on quitting Doctor Sangrado. But he invested me
+with a new office which changed my tone. "Hark you, my child," said he
+to me one day: "I am not one of those hard and ungrateful masters who
+leave their household to grow gray in service without a suitable
+reward. I am well pleased with you, I have a regard for you; and
+without waiting till you have served your time, I will make your
+fortune. Without more ado, I will initiate you in the healing art, of
+which I have for so many years been at the head. Other physicians make
+the science to consist of various unintelligible branches; but I will
+shorten the road for you, and dispense with the drudgery of studying
+natural philosophy, pharmacy, botany, and anatomy. Remember, my
+friend, that bleeding and drinking warm water are the two grand
+principles--the true secret of curing all the distempers incident to
+humanity. Yes, this marvelous secret which I reveal to you, and which
+Nature, beyond the reach of my colleagues, has failed in rescuing from
+my pen, is comprehended in these two articles; namely, bleeding and
+drenching. Here you have the sum total of my philosophy; you are
+thoroughly bottomed in medicine, and may raise yourself to the summit
+of fame on the shoulders of my long experience. You may enter into
+partnership at once, by keeping the books in the morning and going out
+to visit patients in the afternoon. While I dose the nobility and
+clergy, you shall labor in your vocation among the lower orders; and
+when you have felt your ground a little, I will get you admitted into
+our body. You are a philosopher, Gil Blas, tho you have never
+graduated; the common herd of them, tho they have graduated in due
+form and order, are likely to run out the length of their tether
+without knowing their right hand from their left."
+
+I thanked the doctor for having so speedily enabled me to serve as his
+deputy; and by way of acknowledging his goodness, promised to follow
+his system to the end of my career, with a magnanimous indifference
+about the aphorisms of Hippocrates. But that engagement was not to be
+taken to the letter. This tender attachment to water went against the
+grain, and I had a scheme for drinking wine every day snugly among the
+patients. I left off wearing my own suit a second time, to take up one
+of my master's and look like an experienced practitioner. After which
+I brought my medical theories into play, leaving those it might
+concern to look to the event. I began on an alguazil in a pleurisy; he
+was condemned to be bled with the utmost rigor of the law, at the same
+time that the system was to be replenished copiously with water. Next
+I made a lodgment in the veins of a gouty pastry-cook, who roared like
+a lion by reason of gouty spasms. I stood on no more ceremony with
+his blood than with that of the alguazil, and laid no restriction on
+his taste for simple liquids. My prescriptions brought me in twelve
+rials: an incident so auspicious in my professional career, that I
+only wished for the plagues of Egypt on all the hale subjects of
+Valladolid....
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+AS AN ARCHBISHOP'S FAVORITE[33]
+
+
+I had been after dinner to get together my baggage, and take my horse
+from the inn where I had put up; and afterward returned to supper at
+the archbishop's palace, where a neatly furnished room was got ready
+for me, and such a bed as was more likely to pamper than to mortify
+the flesh. The day following his Grace sent for me quite as soon as I
+was ready to go to him. It was to give me a homily to transcribe. He
+made a point of having it copied with all possible accuracy. It was
+done to please him; for I omitted neither accent, nor comma, nor the
+minutest tittle of all he had marked down. His satisfaction at
+observing this was heightened by its being unexpected. "Eternal
+Father!" exclaimed he in a holy rapture, when he had glanced his eye
+over all the folios of my copy, "was ever anything seen so correct?
+You are too good a transcriber not to have some little smattering of
+the grammarian. Now tell me with the freedom of a friend: in writing
+it over, have you been struck with nothing that grated upon your
+feelings? Some little careless idiom, or some word used in an improper
+sense?" "Oh, may it please your Grace," answered I with a modest air,
+"it is not for me, with my confined education and coarse taste, to aim
+at making critical remarks. And tho ever so well qualified, I am
+satisfied that your Grace's works would come out pure from the essay."
+The successor of the apostles smiled at my answer. He made no
+observation on it; but it was easy to see through all his piety that
+he was an arrant author at the bottom: there is something in that dye
+that not heaven itself can wash out.
+
+[Footnote 33: From "Gil Blas."]
+
+I seemed to have purchased the fee simple of his good graces by my
+flattery. Day after day did I get a step farther in his esteem; and
+Don Ferdinand, who came to see him very often, told me my footing was
+so firm that there could not be a doubt but my fortune was made. Of
+this my master himself gave me a proof some little time afterward; and
+the occasion was as follows: One evening in his closet he rehearsed
+before me, with appropriate emphasis and action, a homily which he was
+to deliver the next day in the cathedral. He did not content himself
+with asking me what I thought of it in the gross, but insisted on my
+telling him what passages struck me most. I had the good fortune to
+pick out those which were nearest to his own taste--his favorite
+commonplaces. Thus, as luck would have it, I passed in his estimation
+for a man who had a quick and natural relish of the real and less
+obvious beauties in a work. "This indeed," exclaimed he, "is what you
+may call having discernment and feeling in perfection! Well, well, my
+friend! it can not be said of you,
+
+ '_Beatum in crasso jurares aere natum._'"
+
+In a word, he was so highly pleased with me as to add in a tone of
+extraordinary emotion, "Never mind, Gil Bias! henceforward take no
+care about hereafter: I shall make it my business to place you among
+the favored children of my bounty. You have my best wishes; and to
+prove to you that you have them, I shall take you into my inmost
+confidence."
+
+These words were no sooner out of his mouth than I fell at his Grace's
+feet, quite overwhelmed with gratitude. I embraced his elliptical legs
+with almost pagan idolatry, and considered myself as a man on the
+high-road to a very handsome fortune. "Yes, my child," resumed the
+archbishop, whose speech had been cut short by the rapidity of my
+prostration, "I mean to make you the receiver-general of all my inmost
+ruminations. Harken attentively to what I am going to say. I have a
+great pleasure in preaching. The Lord sheds a blessing on my homilies;
+they sink deep into the hearts of sinners; set up a glass in which
+vice sees its own image, and bring back many from the paths of error
+into the high-road of repentance. What a heavenly sight, when a miser,
+scared at the hideous picture of his avarice drawn by my eloquence,
+opens his coffers to the poor and needy, and dispenses the accumulated
+store with a liberal hand! The voluptuary, too, is snatched from the
+pleasures of the table; ambition flies at my command to the wholesome
+discipline of the monastic cell; while female frailty, tottering on
+the brink of ruin, with one ear open to the siren voice of the seducer
+and the other to my saintly correctives, is restored to domestic
+happiness and the approving smile of heaven, by the timely warnings of
+the pulpit.
+
+"These miraculous conversions, which happen almost every Sunday, ought
+of themselves to goad me on in the career of saving souls.
+Nevertheless, to conceal no part of my weakness from my monitor, there
+is another reward on which my heart is intent--a reward which the
+seraphic scrupulousness of my virtue to little purpose condemns as too
+carnal--a literary reputation for a sublime and elegant style. The
+honor of being handed down to posterity as a perfect pulpit orator has
+its irresistible attractions. My compositions are generally thought to
+be equally powerful and persuasive; but I could wish of all things to
+steer clear of the rock on which good authors split who are too long
+before the public, and to retire from professional life with my
+reputation in undiminished luster. To this end, my dear Gil Blas,"
+continued the prelate, "there is one thing requisite from your zeal
+and friendship. Whenever it shall strike you that my pen begins to
+contract, as it were, the ossification of old age, whenever you see my
+genius in its climateric, do not fail to give me a hint. There is no
+trusting to one's self in such a case: pride and conceit were the
+original sin of man. The probe of criticism must be entrusted to an
+impartial stander-by, of fine talents and unshaken probity. Both those
+requisites center in you: you are my choice, and I give myself up to
+your direction."
+
+"Heaven be praised, my lord," said I, "there is no need to trouble
+yourself with any such thoughts yet. Besides, an understanding of your
+Grace's mold and caliber will last out double the time of a common
+genius; or to speak with more certainty and truth, it will never be
+the worse for wear, if you live to the age of Methusaleh. I consider
+you as a second Cardinal Ximenes, whose powers, superior to decay,
+instead of flagging with years, seemed to derive new vigor from their
+approximation with the heavenly regions." "No flattery, my friend!"
+interrupted he. "I know myself to be in danger of failing all at once.
+At my age one begins to be sensible of infirmities, and those of the
+body communicate with the mind, I repeat it to you, Gil Bias, as soon
+as you shall be of opinion that my head is not so clear as usual, give
+me warning of it instantly. Do not be afraid of offending by frankness
+and sincerity: to put me in mind of my own frailty will be the
+strongest proof of your affection for me. Besides, your very interest
+is concerned in it; for if it should, by any spite of chance toward
+you, come to my ears that the people say in town, 'His Grace's sermons
+produce no longer their accustomed impression; it is time for him to
+abandon his pulpit to younger candidates'--I do assure you, most
+seriously and solemnly, you will lose not only my friendship, but the
+provision for life that I have promised you. Such will be the result
+of your silly tampering with truth."
+
+Here my patron left off to wait for my answer, which was an echo of
+his speech, and a promise of obeying him in all things. From that
+moment there were no secrets from me; I became the prime favorite. All
+the household, except Melchior de la Ronda, looked at me with an eye
+of envy. It was curious to observe the manner in which the whole
+establishment, from the highest to the lowest, thought it necessary to
+demean themselves toward his Grace's confidential secretary; there was
+no meanness to which they would not stoop to curry favor with me: I
+could scarcely believe they were Spaniards. I left no stone unturned
+to be of service to them, without being taken in by their interested
+assiduities.
+
+
+
+
+DUC DE SAINT-SIMON
+
+ Born in France in 1675, died in 1755; served in the army in
+ the time of Louis XIV; member of the Council of Regency in
+ the reign of Louis XV; ambassador to Spain to 1721; his
+ "Memoirs," first published in twenty volumes it 1829-30; not
+ to be confounded with the Count of Saint-Simon, the
+ philosopher and socialist, the memoir writer being a duke.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN[34]
+
+
+Monseigneur le Dauphin, ill and agitated by the most bitter grief,
+kept his chamber; but on Saturday morning of the 13th, being prest to
+go to Marly to avoid the horror of the noise where the Dauphine was
+lying dead, he set out for that place at seven o'clock in the morning.
+Shortly after arriving he heard mass in the chapel, and thence was
+carried in a chair to the window of one of his rooms. Madame de
+Maintenon came to see him there afterward. The anguish of the
+interview was speedily too much for her, and she went away. Early in
+the morning I went uninvited to see M. le Dauphin. He showed me that
+he perceived this with an air of gentleness and of affection which
+penetrated me. But I was terrified with his looks, constrained, fixt
+and with something wild about them; with the change of his looks and
+with the marks there, livid rather than red, that I observed in good
+number and large; marks observed by the others also.
+
+[Footnote 34: From the "Memoirs on the Reign of Louis XIV and the
+Regency." Translated by Bayle St. John, traveler and Author, his
+"Village Life Egypt" appearing in 1852.]
+
+The Dauphin was standing. In a few moments he was apprized that the
+King had awaked. The tears that he had restrained now rolled from his
+eyes; he turned round at the news, but said nothing, remaining stock
+still. His three attendants proposed to him once or twice that he
+should go to the King. He neither spoke nor stirred. I approached and
+made signs to him to go, then softly spoke to the same effect. Seeing
+that he still remained speechless and motionless, I made bold to take
+his arm, representing to him that sooner or later he must see the
+King, who expected him, and assuredly with the desire to see and
+embrace him. He cast upon me a look that pierced my soul and went
+away. I followed him some few steps and then withdrew to recover
+breath. I never saw him again. May I, by the mercy of God, see him
+eternally where God's goodness doubtless has placed him!
+
+The Dauphin reached the chamber of the King, full just then of
+company. As soon as he appeared the King called him and embraced him
+tenderly again and again. These first moments, so touching, passed in
+words broken by sobs and tears. Shortly afterward the King, looking at
+the Dauphin, was terrified by the same things that had previously
+struck me with affright. Everybody around was so also, the doctors
+more than the others. The King ordered them to feel his pulse, that
+they found bad, so they said afterward; for the time they contented
+themselves with saying that it was not regular, and that the Dauphin
+would do wisely to go to bed. The King embraced him again, recommended
+him very tenderly to take care of himself, and ordered him to go to
+bed. He obeyed and rose no more!
+
+It was now late in the morning. The King had passed a cruel night and
+had a bad headache; he saw at his dinner the few courtiers who
+presented themselves, and then after dinner went to the Dauphin. The
+fever had augmented, the pulse was worse than before. The King passed
+into the apartment of Madame de Maintenon, and the Dauphin was left
+with attendants and his doctors. He spent the day in prayers and holy
+reading.
+
+On the morrow, Sunday, the uneasiness felt on account of the Dauphin
+augmented. He himself did not conceal his belief that he would never
+rise again, and that the plot Pondin had warned him of had been
+executed. He explained himself to this effect more than once and
+always with a disdain of earthly grandeur and an incomparable
+submission and love of God. It is impossible to describe the general
+consternation. On Monday the 15th the King was bled. The Dauphin was
+no better than before. The King and Madame de Maintenon saw him
+separately several times during the day, which was passed in prayers
+and reading.
+
+On Tuesday, the 16th, the Dauphin was worse. He felt himself devoured
+by a consuming fire, which the external fever did not seem to justify,
+but the pulse was very extraordinary and exceedingly menacing. This
+was a deceptive day. The marks in the Dauphin's face extended all
+over the body. They were regarded as the marks of measles. Hope arose
+thereon, but the doctors and the most clear-sighted of the court could
+not forget that these same marks had shown themselves on the body of
+the Dauphine, a fact unknown out of her chamber until after death.
+
+On Wednesday, the 17th, the malady considerably increased. I had news
+at all times of the Dauphin's state from Cheverney, an excellent
+apothecary of the King and of my family. He hid nothing from us. He
+had told us what he thought of the Dauphine's illness; he told us now
+what he thought of the Dauphin's. I no longer hoped therefore, or
+rather I hoped to the end against all hope.
+
+On Wednesday the pains increased. They were like a devouring fire, but
+more violent than ever. Very late into the evening the Dauphin sent to
+the King for permission to receive the communion early the next
+morning and without display at the mass performed in his chamber.
+Nobody heard of this that evening; it was not known until the
+following morning. I was in extreme desolation. I scarcely saw the
+King once a day. I did nothing but go in quest of news several times a
+day, and to the house of M. de Chevreuse, where I was completely free.
+M. de Chevreuse--always calm, always sanguine--endeavored to prove to
+us by his medical reasonings that there was more reason to hope than
+to fear; but he did so with a tranquillity that roused my impatience.
+I returned home to pass a cruel night.
+
+On Thursday morning, the 18th February, I learned that the Dauphin,
+who had waited for midnight with impatience, had heard mass
+immediately after the communion, had passed two hours in devout
+communication with God, and that his reason then became embarrassed.
+Madame de Saint-Simon told me afterward that he had received extreme
+unction; in fine that he had died at half-past eight.
+
+These memoirs are not written to describe my private sentiments. But
+in reading them--if long after me they shall ever appear--my state and
+that of Madame de Saint-Simon will only too keenly be felt. I will
+content myself with saying that the first days after the Dauphin's
+death scarcely appeared to us more than moments; that I wished to quit
+all, to withdraw from the court and the world, and that I was only
+hindered by the wisdom, conduct and power over me of Madame de
+Saint-Simon, who yet had some trouble to subdue my sorrowful desire.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE PUBLIC WATCHING THE KING AND MADAME[35]
+
+
+The King wished to show the court all the maneuvers of war; the siege
+of Compiegne was therefore undertaken, according to due form, with
+lines, trenches, batteries, mines, etc. On Saturday, the 13th of
+September, the assault took place. To witness it, the King, Madame de
+Maintenon,[36] all the ladies of the court, and a number of
+gentlemen, stationed themselves upon an old rampart, from which the
+plain and all the disposition of the troops could be seen. I was in
+the half-circle very close to the King. It was the most beautiful
+sight that can be imagined to see all that army, and the prodigious
+number of spectators on horse and foot, and that game of attack and
+defense so cleverly conducted.
+
+[Footnote 35: From the "Memoirs."]
+
+But a spectacle of another sort--that I could paint forty years hence
+as well as to-day, so strongly did it strike me--was that which from
+the summit of this rampart the King gave to all his army, and to the
+innumerable crowd of spectators of all kinds in the plain below.
+Madame de Maintenon faced the plain and the troops in her sedan-chair,
+alone, between its three windows drawn up; her porters having retired
+to a distance. On the left pole in front sat Madame la Duchesse de
+Bourgogne; and on the same side, in a semicircle, standing, were
+Madame la Duchesse, Madame la Princesse de Conti, and all the
+ladies--and behind them again, many men. At the right window was the
+King, standing, and a little in the rear a semicircle of the most
+distinguished men of the court. The King was nearly always uncovered;
+and every now and then stooped to speak to Madame de Maintenon, and
+explain to her what she saw, and the reason of each movement.
+
+[Footnote 36: At the period of which Saint-Simon here writes, Madame
+de Maintenon had acquired that ascendency over Louis XIV which
+resulted in her marriage to him. She had been born in a prison, and
+was three years the senior of the King. Her first husband was the poet
+Scarron, at whose death, after a marriage of nine years, she had found
+herself in poverty. She secured a pension from Anne of Austria, the
+mother of the King, but at the queen-mother's death the pension was
+discontinued. She was placed in charge of the King's natural son, to
+whom she became much devoted, and was advanced through the King's
+favor to various positions at court, receiving in 1678 the title of
+marquise. Five years later the queen of Louis XIV died, and Louis
+married Madame de Maintenon, whose influence over him in matters of
+church and state became thereafter very great. She was a patroness of
+art and literature, intensely orthodox in religion, and has been held
+largely responsible for the King's revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
+which occurred during the year of their marriage, tho she opposed the
+violent persecutions which followed.]
+
+Each time that he did so she was obliging enough to open the window
+four or five inches, but never half-way; for I noticed particularly,
+and I admit that I was more attentive to this spectacle than to that
+of the troops. Sometimes she opened of her own accord to ask some
+question of him: but generally it was he who, without waiting for her,
+stooped down to instruct her of what was passing; and sometimes, if
+she did not notice him, he tapped at the glass to make her open it. He
+never spoke save to her, except when he gave a few brief orders, or
+just answered Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne, who wanted to make him
+speak, and with whom Madame de Maintenon carried on a conversation by
+signs, without opening the front window, through which the young
+princess screamed to her from time to time. I watched the countenance
+of every one carefully: all exprest surprize, tempered with prudence,
+and shame that was, as it were, ashamed of itself; every one behind
+the chair and in the semicircle watched this scene more than what was
+going on in the army. The King often put his hat on the top of the
+chair in order to get his head in to speak; and this continual
+exercise tired his loins very much. Monseigneur was on horseback in
+the plain with the young princes. It was about five o'clock in the
+afternoon, and the weather was as brilliant as could be desired.
+
+Opposite the sedan-chair was an opening with some steps cut through
+the wall, and communicating with the plain below. It had been made for
+the purpose of fetching orders from the King, should they be
+necessary. The case happened. Crenan, who commanded, sent Conillac, an
+officer in one of the defending regiments, to ask for some
+instructions from the King. Conillac had been stationed at the foot of
+the rampart, where what was passing above could not be seen. He
+mounted the steps; and as soon as his head and shoulders were at the
+top, caught sight of the chair, the King, and all the assembled
+company. He was not prepared for such a scene; and it struck him with
+such astonishment that he stopt short, with mouth and eyes wide
+open--surprize painted upon every feature. I see him now as distinctly
+as I did then. The King, as well as the rest of the company, remarked
+the agitation of Conillac, and said to him with emotion, "Well,
+Conillac! come up." Conillac remained motionless, and the King
+continued, "Come up. What is the matter?" Conillac, thus addrest,
+finished his ascent, and came toward the King with slow and trembling
+steps, rolling his eyes from right to left like one deranged. Then he
+stammered something, but in a tone so low that it could not be heard.
+"What do you say?" cried the King. "Speak up." But Conillac was
+unable; and the King, finding he could get nothing out of him, told
+him to go away. He did not need to be told twice, but disappeared at
+once. As soon as he was gone, the King looking round said, "I don't
+know what is the matter with Conillac. He has lost his wits: he did
+not remember what he had to say to me." No one answered.
+
+Toward the moment of the capitulation, Madame de Maintenon apparently
+asked permission to go away; for the King cried, "The chairmen of
+madame!" They came and took her away; in less than a quarter of an
+hour afterward the King retired also, and nearly everybody else. There
+was much interchange of glances, nudging with elbows, and then
+whisperings in the ear. Everybody was full of what had taken place on
+the ramparts between the King and Madame de Maintenon. Even the
+soldiers asked what meant that sedan-chair, and the King every moment
+stooping to put his head inside of it. It became necessary gently to
+silence these questions of the troops. What effect this sight had upon
+foreigners present, and what they said of it, may be imagined. All
+over Europe it was as much talked of as the camp of Compiegne itself,
+with all its pomp and prodigious splendor.
+
+
+
+
+BARON DE MONTESQUIEU
+
+ Born near Bordeaux in 1689, died in Paris in 1755; studied
+ law and became a councilor in 1716; president of the
+ Bordeaux Parliament; devoted himself to a study of
+ literature and jurisprudence; published "Persian Letters" in
+ 1721, which secured him an election to the Academy in 1728;
+ traveled in Austria, Italy, Germany, Holland and England;
+ published "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans" in 1734,
+ and "Spirit of the Laws" in 1748.[37]
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF THE CAUSES WHICH DESTROYED ROME[38]
+
+
+While the sovereignty of Rome was confined to Italy, it was easy for
+the commonwealth to subsist: every soldier was at the same time a
+citizen; every Consul raised an army, and other citizens marched into
+the field under his successor: as their forces were not very numerous,
+such persons only were received among the troops as had possessions
+considerable enough to make them interested in the preservation of the
+city; the Senate kept a watchful eye over the conduct of the generals,
+and did not give them an opportunity of machinating anything to the
+prejudice of their country.
+
+[Footnote 37: Montesquieu is declared by Mr. Saintsbury to deserve the
+title of "the greatest man of letters of the French eighteenth
+century." He places him above Voltaire because "of his far greater
+originality and depth of thought."]
+
+[Footnote 38: From the "Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans," of
+which an English translation was issued as early as 1751.]
+
+But after the legions had passed the Alps and crossed the sea, the
+soldiers whom the Romans had been obliged to leave during several
+campaigns in the countries they were subduing, lost insensibly that
+genius and turn of mind which characterized a Roman citizen; and the
+generals having armies and kingdoms at their disposal were sensible of
+their own strength, and would no longer obey.
+
+The soldiers therefore began to acknowledge no superior but their
+general; to found their hopes on him only, and to view the city as
+from a great distance: they were no longer the soldiers of the
+republic, but of Sulla, of Marius, of Pompey, and of Caesar. The Romans
+could no longer tell whether the person who headed an army in a
+province was their general or their enemy.
+
+So long as the people of Rome were corrupted by their tribunes only,
+on whom they could bestow nothing but their power, the Senate could
+easily defend themselves, because they acted consistently and with one
+regular tenor, whereas the common people were continually shifting
+from the extremes of fury to the extremes of cowardice; but when they
+were enabled to invest their favorites with a formidable exterior
+authority, the whole wisdom of the Senate was baffled, and the
+commonwealth was undone.
+
+The reason why free states are not so permanent as other forms of
+government is because the misfortunes and successes which happen to
+them generally occasion the loss of liberty; whereas the successes and
+misfortunes of an arbitrary government contribute equally to the
+enslaving of the people. A wise republic ought not to run any hazard
+which may expose it to good or ill fortune; the only happiness the
+several individuals of it should aspire after is to give perpetuity to
+their state.
+
+If the unbounded extent of the Roman empire proved the ruin of the
+republic, the vast compass of the city was no less fatal to it.
+
+The Romans had subdued the whole universe by the assistance of the
+nations of Italy, on whom they had bestowed various privileges at
+different times. Most of those nations did not at first set any great
+value on the freedom of the city of Rome, and some chose rather to
+preserve their ancient usages; but when this privilege became that of
+universal sovereignty--when a man who was not a Roman citizen was
+considered as nothing, and with this title was everything--the people
+of Italy resolved either to be Romans or die: not being able to obtain
+this by cabals and entreaties, they had recourse to arms; and rising
+in all that part of Italy opposite to the Ionian sea, the rest of the
+allies were going to follow their example. Rome, being now forced to
+combat against those who were, if I may be allowed the figure, the
+hands with which they shackled the universe, was upon the brink of
+ruin; the Romans were going to be confined merely to their walls: they
+therefore granted this so much wished-for privilege to the allies who
+had not yet been wanting in fidelity; and they indulged it, by
+insensible degrees, to all other nations.
+
+But now Rome was no longer that city the inhabitants of which had
+breathed one and the same spirit, the same love for liberty, the same
+hatred of tyranny; a city in which a jealousy of the power of the
+Senate and of the prerogatives of the great (ever accompanied with
+respect) was only a love of equality. The nations of Italy being made
+citizens of Rome, every city brought thither its genius, its
+particular interests, and its dependence on some mighty protector:
+Rome, being now rent and divided, no longer formed one entire body,
+and men were no longer citizens of it but in a kind of fictitious way;
+as there were no longer the same magistrates, the same walls, the same
+gods, the same temples, the same burying-places, Rome was no longer
+beheld with the same eyes; the citizens were no longer fired with the
+same love for their country, and the Roman sentiments were
+obliterated.
+
+Cities and nations were now invited to Rome by the ambitious, to
+disconcert the suffrages, or influence them in their own favor; the
+public assemblies were so many conspiracies against the state, and a
+tumultuous crowd of seditious wretches was dignified with the title of
+Comitia. The authority of the people and their laws--nay, that people
+themselves--were no more than so many chimeras; and so universal was
+the anarchy of those times that it was not possible to determine
+whether the people had made a law or not.
+
+Authors enlarge very copiously on the divisions which proved the
+destruction of Rome; but their readers seldom discover those divisions
+to have been always necessary and inevitable. The grandeur of the
+republic was the only source of that calamity, and exasperated
+popular tumults into civil wars. Dissensions were not to be prevented;
+and those martial spirits which were so fierce and formidable abroad
+could not be habituated to any considerable moderation at home. Those
+who expect in a free state to see the people undaunted in war and
+pusillanimous in peace, are certainly desirous of impossibilities; and
+it may be advanced as a general rule that whenever a perfect calm is
+visible, in a state that calls itself a republic, the spirit of
+liberty no longer subsists.
+
+Union, in a body politic, is a very equivocal term: true union is such
+a harmony as makes all the particular parts, as opposite as they may
+seem to us, concur to the general welfare of the society, in the same
+manner as discords in music contribute to the general melody of sound.
+Union may prevail in a state full of seeming commotions; or in other
+words, there may be a harmony from whence results prosperity, which
+alone is true peace; and may be considered in the same view as the
+various parts of this universe, which are eternally connected by the
+action of some and the reaction of others.
+
+In a despotic state, indeed, which is every government where the power
+is immoderately exerted, a real division is perpetually kindled. The
+peasant, the soldier, the merchant, the magistrate, and the grandee,
+have no other conjunction than what arises from the ability of the one
+to oppress the other without resistance; and if at any time a union
+happens to be introduced, citizens are not then united, but dead
+bodies are laid in the grave contiguous to each other.
+
+It must be acknowledged that the Roman laws were too weak to govern
+the republic; but experience has proved it to be an invariable fact
+that good laws, which raise the reputation and power of a small
+republic, become incommodious to it when once its grandeur is
+established, because it was their natural effect to make a great
+people but not to govern them.
+
+The difference is very considerable between good laws and those which
+may be called convenient; between such laws as give a people dominion
+over others, and such as continue them in the possession of power when
+they have once acquired it.
+
+There is at this time a republic in the world (the Canton of Berne),
+of which few persons have any knowledge, and which, by plans
+accomplished in silence and secrecy, is daily enlarging its power. And
+certain it is that if it ever rises to that height of grandeur for
+which it seems preordained by its wisdom, it must inevitably change
+its laws; and the necessary innovations will not be effected by any
+legislator, but must spring from corruption itself.
+
+Rome was founded for grandeur, and her laws had an admirable tendency
+to bestow it; for which reason, in all the variations of her
+government, whether monarchy, aristocracy, or popular, she constantly
+engaged in enterprises which required conduct to accomplish them, and
+always succeeded. The experience of a day did not furnish her with
+more wisdom than all other nations, but she obtained it by a long
+succession of events. She sustained a small, a moderate, and an
+immense fortune with the same superiority, derived true welfare from
+the whole train of her prosperities, and refined every instance of
+calamity into beneficial instructions.
+
+She lost her liberty because she completed her work too soon.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF THE RELATION OF LAWS TO DIFFERENT HUMAN BEINGS[39]
+
+
+Laws, in their most general signification, are the necessary relations
+arising from the nature of things. In this sense all beings have their
+laws; the Deity His laws, the material world its laws, the
+intelligences superior to man their laws, the beasts their laws, man
+his laws.
+
+[Footnote 39: From "The Spirit of Laws." The translation of Thomas
+Nugent was published in 1756.]
+
+They who assert that a blind fatality produced the various effects we
+behold in this world talk very absurdly; for can anything be more
+unreasonable than to pretend that a blind fatality could be productive
+of intelligent beings?
+
+There is, then, a primitive reason; and laws are the relations
+subsisting between it and different beings, and the relations of these
+to one another.
+
+God is related to the universe, as Creator and Preserver; the laws by
+which He created all things are those by which He preserves them. He
+acts according to these rules, because He knows them; He knows them,
+because He made them; and He made them, because they are relative to
+His wisdom and power.
+
+Since we observe that the world, tho formed by the motion of matter,
+and void of understanding, subsists through so long a succession of
+ages, its motions must certainly be directed by invariable laws; and
+could we imagine another world, it must also have constant rules, or
+it would inevitably perish.
+
+Thus the creation, which seems an arbitrary net, supposes laws as
+invariable as those of the fatality of the atheists. It would be
+absurd to say that the Creator might govern the world without these
+rules, since without them it could not subsist.
+
+These rules are a fixt and variable relation. In bodies moved, the
+motion is received, increased, diminished, lost, according to the
+relations of the quantity of matter and velocity; each diversity is
+uniformity, each change is constancy.
+
+Particular intelligent beings may have laws of their own making, but
+they have some likewise which they never made. Before they were
+intelligent beings, they were possible; they had therefore possible
+relations, and consequently possible laws. Before laws were made,
+there were relations of possible justice. To say that there is nothing
+just or unjust but what is commanded or forbidden by positive laws is
+the same as saying that before the describing of a circle all the
+radii were not equal.
+
+We must therefore acknowledge relations of justice antecedent to the
+positive law by which they are established: as for instance, that if
+human societies existed it would be right to conform to their laws; if
+there were intelligent beings that had received a benefit of another
+being, they ought to show their gratitude; if one intelligent being
+had created another intelligent being, the latter ought to continue in
+its original state of dependence; if one intelligent being injures
+another, it deserves a retaliation; and so on.
+
+But the intelligent world is far from being so well governed as the
+physical. For tho the former has also its laws, which of their own
+nature are invariable, it does not conform to them so exactly as the
+physical world. This is because, on the one hand, particular
+intelligent beings are of a finite nature, and consequently liable to
+error; and on the other, their nature requires them to be free agents.
+Hence they do not steadily conform to their primitive laws; and even,
+those of their own instituting they frequently infringe.
+
+Whether brutes be governed by the general laws of motion or by a
+particular movement we can not determine. Be that as it may, they have
+not a more intimate relation to God than the rest of the material
+world; and sensation is of no other use to them than in the relation
+they have either to other particular beings or to themselves.
+
+By the allurements of pleasure they preserve the individual, and by
+the same allurements they preserve their species. They have natural
+laws, because they are united by sensation; positive laws they have
+none, because they are not connected by knowledge. And yet they do not
+invariably conform to their natural laws; these are better observed
+by vegetables, that have neither understanding nor sense.
+
+Brutes are deprived of the high advantages which we have; but they
+have some which we have not. They have not our hopes, but they are
+without our fears; they are subject like us to death, but without
+knowing it; even most of them are more attentive than we to
+self-preservation, and do not make so bad a use of their passions.
+
+Man, as a physical being, is like other bodies, governed by invariable
+laws. As an intelligent being, he incessantly transgresses the laws
+established by God, and changes those of his own instituting. He is
+left to his private direction, tho a limited being, and subject, like
+all finite intelligences, to ignorance and error; even his imperfect
+knowledge he loses; and as a sensible creature, he is hurried away by
+a thousand impetuous passions. Such a being might every instant forget
+his Creator; God has therefore reminded him of his duty by the laws of
+religion. Such a being is liable every moment to forget himself;
+philosophy has provided against this by the laws of morality. Formed
+to live in society, he might forget his fellow creatures; legislators
+have therefore by political and civil laws confined him to his duty.
+
+
+
+
+FRANCOIS AROUET VOLTAIRE
+
+ Born in Paris in 1694, died in 1778; his original name
+ Arouet; educated at the College of Louis-le-Grand; exiled
+ because of his freedom of speech; twice imprisoned in the
+ Bastille; resided in England in 1726-29; went to Prussia at
+ the invitation of Frederick the Great in 1750, remaining
+ three years, the friendship ending in bitter enmity; wrote
+ in Prussia his "Le Siecle de Louis XIV"; settled at Geneva
+ in 1756, and two years later at Ferney, where he lived until
+ his death in 1778; visited Paris in 1778, being received
+ with great honors; his works very numerous, one edition
+ comprizing seventy-two volumes.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF BACON'S GREATNESS[40]
+
+
+Not long since the trite and frivolous question following was debated
+in a very polite and learned company, viz., Who was the greatest man,
+Caesar, Alexander, Tamerlane, Cromwell, etc.?
+
+[Footnote 40: From the "Letters on England." Voltaire's visit to
+England followed immediately upon his release from imprisonment in the
+Bastille. During the two years he spent there, he acquired an intimate
+knowledge of English life, and came to know most of the eminent
+Englishmen of the time.
+
+An English version of Voltaire's writings, in thirty-five volumes, was
+published in 1761-69, with notes by Smollett and others. The "Letters
+from England" seem to have first appeared in English in 1734.]
+
+Somebody answered that Sir Isaac Newton excelled them all. The
+gentleman's assertion was very just; for if true greatness consists in
+having received from heaven a mighty genius, and in having employed
+it to enlighten our own mind and that of others, a man like Sir Isaac
+Newton, whose equal is hardly found in a thousand years, is the truly
+great man. And those politicians and conquerors (and all ages produce
+some) were generally so many illustrious wicked men. That man claims
+our respect who commands over the minds of the rest of the world by
+the force of truth, not those who enslave their fellow creatures; he
+who is acquainted with the universe, not they who deface it.
+
+The most singular and the best of all his pieces is that which, at
+this time, is the most useless and the least read. I mean his "Novum
+Scientiarum Organum." This is the scaffold with which the new
+philosophy was raised; and when the edifice was built, part of it, at
+least the scaffold was no longer of service.
+
+Lord Bacon was not yet acquainted with nature, but then he knew, and
+pointed out the several paths that lead to it. He had despised in his
+younger years the thing called philosophy in the universities, and did
+all that lay in his power to prevent those societies of men instituted
+to improve human reason from depraving it by their quiddities, their
+horrors of the vacuum, their substantial forms, and all those
+impertinent terms which not only ignorance had rendered venerable, but
+which had been made sacred by their being ridiculously blended with
+religion.
+
+He is the father of experimental philosophy. It must, indeed, be
+confest that very surprizing secrets had been found out before his
+time--the sea compass, printing, engraving on copper plates, oil
+painting, looking-glasses; the art of restoring, in some measure, old
+men to their sight by spectacles; gunpowder, etc., had been
+discovered. A new world had been fought for, found, and conquered.
+Would not one suppose that these sublime discoveries had been made by
+the greatest philosophers, and in ages much more enlightened than the
+present? But it was far otherwise; all these great changes happened in
+the most stupid and barbarous times. Chance only gave birth to most of
+those inventions; and it is very probable that what is called chance
+contributed very much to the discovery of America; at least it has
+been always thought that Christopher Columbus undertook his voyage
+merely on the relation of a captain of a ship which a storm had driven
+as far westward as the Caribbean Island. Be this as it will, men had
+sailed round the world, and could destroy cities by an artificial
+thunder more dreadful than the real one; but, then, they were not
+acquainted with the circulation of the blood, the weight of the air,
+the laws of motions, light, the number of our planets, etc. And a man
+who maintained a thesis on Aristotle's "Categories," on the universals
+_a parte rei_, or such-like nonsense, was looked upon as a prodigy.
+
+The most astonishing, the most useful inventions, are not those which
+reflect the greatest honor on the human mind. It is to a mechanical
+instinct, which is found in many men, and not to true philosophy that
+most arts owe their origin.
+
+The discovery of fire, the art of making bread, of melting and
+preparing metals, of building houses, and the invention of the shuttle
+are infinitely more beneficial to mankind than printing or the sea
+compass; and yet these arts were invented by uncultivated, savage men.
+
+What a prodigious use the Greeks and Romans made afterward of
+mechanics! Nevertheless, they believed that there were crystal
+heavens, that the stars were small lamps which sometimes fell into the
+sea, and one of their greatest philosophers, after long researches,
+found that the stars were so many flints which had been detached from
+the earth.
+
+In a word, no one before Lord Bacon was acquainted with experimental
+philosophy, nor with the several physical experiments which have been
+made since his time. Scarce one of them but is hinted at in his work,
+and he himself had made several. He made a kind of pneumatic engine,
+by which he guessed the elasticity of the air. He approached on all
+sides, as it were, to the discovery of its weight, and had very near
+attained it, but some time after Torricelli seized upon this truth. In
+a little time experimental philosophy began to be cultivated on a
+sudden in most parts of Europe. It was a hidden treasure which Lord
+Bacon had some notion of, and which all the philosophers, encouraged
+by his promises, endeavored to dig up.
+
+But that which surprized me most was to read in his work, in express
+terms, the new attraction, the invention of which is ascribed to Sir
+Isaac Newton.
+
+We must search, says Lord Bacon, whether there may not be a kind of
+magnetic power which operates between the earth and heavy bodies,
+between the moon and the ocean, between the planets, etc. In another
+place he says, either heavy bodies must be carried toward the center
+of the earth, or must be reciprocally attracted by it; and in the
+latter case it is evident that the nearer bodies in their falling,
+draw toward the earth, the stronger they will attract one another. We
+must, says he, make an experiment to see whether the same clock will
+go faster on the top of a mountain or at the bottom of a mine; whether
+the strength of the weights decreases on the mountain and increases in
+the mine. It is probable that the earth has a true attractive power.
+
+This forerunner in philosophy was also an elegant writer, a historian,
+and a wit.
+
+His moral essays are greatly esteemed, but they were drawn up in the
+view of instructing rather than of pleasing; and, as they are not a
+satire upon mankind, like Rochefoucauld's "Maxims," nor written upon a
+skeptical plan, like Montaigne's "Essays," they are not so much read
+as those two ingenious authors.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+ENGLAND'S REGARD FOR MEN OF LETTERS[41]
+
+
+Neither the English nor any other people have foundations established
+in favor of the polite arts like those in France. There are
+universities in most countries, but it is in France only that we meet
+with so beneficial an encouragement for astronomy and all parts of the
+mathematics, for physic, for researches into antiquity, for painting,
+sculpture, and architecture. Louis XIV has immortalized his name by
+these several foundations, and this immortality did not cost him two
+hundred thousand livres a year.
+
+[Footnote 41: From the "Letters on England."]
+
+I must confess that one of the things I very much wonder at is that as
+the Parliament of Great Britain have promised a reward of L20,000 to
+any person who may discover the longitude, they should never have once
+thought to imitate Louis XIV in his munificence with regard to the
+arts and sciences.
+
+Merit, indeed, meets in England with rewards of another kind, which
+redound more to the honor of the nation. The English have so great a
+veneration for exalted talents, that a man of merit in their country
+is always sure of making his fortune. Mr. Addison in France would have
+been elected a member of one of the academies, and, by the credit of
+some women, might have obtained a yearly pension of twelve hundred
+livres, or else might have been imprisoned in the Bastille, upon
+pretense that certain strokes in his tragedy of Cato had been
+discovered which glanced at the porter of some man in power. Mr.
+Addison was raised to the post of Secretary of State in England. Sir
+Isaac Newton was made Master of the Royal Mint. Mr. Congreve had a
+considerable employment. Mr. Prior was Plenipotentiary. Dr. Swift is
+Dean of St. Patrick's in Dublin, and is more revered in Ireland than
+the Primate himself. The religion which Mr. Pope professes[42]
+excludes him, indeed, from preferments of every kind, but then it did
+not prevent his gaining two hundred thousand livres by his excellent
+translation of Homer. I myself saw a long time in France the author of
+"Rhadamistus"[43] ready to perish for hunger. And the son of one of
+the greatest men our country ever gave birth to, and who was beginning
+to run the noble career which his father had set him, would have been
+reduced to the extremes of misery had he not been patronized by
+Monsieur Fagon.
+
+[Footnote 42: Pope was a Catholic.]
+
+[Footnote 43: "Rhadamiste et Zenobia," a tragedy by Crebillon (1711),
+who long suffered from neglect and want.]
+
+But the circumstance which mostly encourages the arts in England is
+the great veneration which is paid them. The picture of the Prime
+Minister hangs over the chimney of his own closet, but I have seen
+that of Mr. Pope in twenty noblemen's houses. Sir Isaac Newton was
+revered in his lifetime, and had a due respect paid to him after his
+death,--the greatest men in the nation disputing who should have the
+honor of holding up his pall. Go into Westminster Abbey, and you will
+find that what raises the admiration of the spectator is not the
+mausoleums of the English kings, but the monuments which the gratitude
+of the nation has erected to perpetuate the memory of those
+illustrious men who contributed to its glory. We view their statues in
+that abbey in the same manner as those of Sophocles, Plato, and other
+immortal personages were viewed in Athens; and I am persuaded that the
+bare sight of those glorious monuments has fired more than one breast,
+and been the occasion of their becoming great men.
+
+The English have even been reproached with paying too extravagant
+honors to mere merit, and censured for interring the celebrated
+actress Mrs. Oldfield[44] in Westminster Abbey, with almost the same
+pomp as Sir Isaac Newton. Some pretend that the English had paid her
+these great funeral honors purposely to make us more strongly sensible
+of the barbarity and injustice which they object to in us, for having
+buried Mademoiselle Le Couvreur ignominiously in the fields.
+
+[Footnote 44: Anne, or "Nance" Oldfield was born in 1683, and died in
+1730. Her death occurred in the year which followed the close of
+Voltaire's English visit. At her funeral, the body lay in state in the
+Jerusalem Chamber of Westminster Abbey. She had a natural son, who
+married Lady Mary Walpole, a natural daughter of Sir Robert Walpole,
+the Prime Minister.]
+
+But be assured from me that the English were prompted by no other
+principle in burying Mrs. Oldfield in Westminster Abbey than their
+good sense. They are far from being so ridiculous as to brand with
+infamy an art which has immortalized a Euripides and a Sophocles; or
+to exclude from the body of their citizens a set of people whose
+business is to set off with the utmost grace of speech and action
+those pieces which the nation is proud of.
+
+Under the reign of Charles I and in the beginning of the civil wars
+raised by a number of rigid fanatics, who at last were the victims to
+it, a great many pieces were published against theatrical and other
+shows, which were attacked with the greater virulence because that
+monarch and his queen, daughter to Henry I of France, were
+passionately fond of them.
+
+One Mr. Prynne, a man of most furiously scrupulous principles, who
+would have thought himself damned had he worn a cassock instead of a
+short cloak, and have been glad to see one-half of mankind cut the
+other to pieces for the glory of God and the _Propaganda Fide_, took
+it into his head to write a most wretched satire against some pretty
+good comedies, which were exhibited very innocently every night before
+their majesties. He quoted the authority of the Rabbis, and some
+passages from St. Bonaventura, to prove that the "Oedipus" of
+Sophocles was the work of the evil spirit; that Terence was
+excommunicated _ipso facto_; and added that doubtless Brutus, who was
+a very severe Jansenist, assassinated Julius Caesar for no other reason
+but because he, who was Pontifex Maximus, presumed to write a tragedy
+the subject of which was "Oepidus." Lastly, he declared that all who
+frequented the theater were excommunicated, as they thereby renounced
+their baptism. This was casting the highest insult on the king and all
+the royal family; and as the English loved their prince at that time,
+they could not bear to hear a writer talk of excommunicating him, tho
+they themselves afterward cut his head off. Prynne was summoned to
+appear before the Star Chamber; his wonderful book, from which Father
+Lebrun stole his, was sentenced to be burned by the common hangman,
+and himself to lose his ears.[45] His trial is now extant.
+
+[Footnote 45: William Prynne, lawyer, pamphleteer, and statesman, was
+born in 1600, and died in 1669. Prynne in 1648 was released from
+imprisonment by the Long Parliament and obtained a seat in the House
+of Commons where he took up the cause of the king. Later, in the
+Cromwellian period, he was arrested and again imprisoned, but was
+released in 1652, and, after the accession of Charles II, was made
+keeper of the records in the Tower.]
+
+The Italians are far from attempting to cast a blemish on the opera,
+or to excommunicate Signor Senesino or Signora Cuzzoni. With regard to
+myself, I could presume to wish that the magistrates would suppress I
+know not what contemptible pieces written against the stage. For when
+the English and Italians hear that we brand with the greatest mark of
+infamy an art in which we excel; that we excommunicate persons who
+receive salaries from the king; that we condemn as impious a spectacle
+exhibited in convents and monasteries; that we dishonor sports in
+which Louis XIV and Louis XV performed as actors; that we give the
+title of the devil's works to pieces which are received by magistrates
+of the most severe character, and represented before a virtuous queen;
+when, I say, foreigners are told of this insolent conduct, this
+contempt for the royal authority, and this Gothic rusticity which some
+presume to call Christian severity, what idea must they entertain of
+our nation? And how will it be possible for them to conceive, either
+that our laws give a sanction to an art which is declared infamous, or
+that some persons dare to stamp with infamy an art which receives a
+sanction from the laws, is rewarded by kings, cultivated and
+encouraged by the greatest men, and admired by whole nations? And that
+Father Lebrun's impertinent libel against the stage is seen in a
+bookseller's shop, standing the very next to the immortal labors of
+Racine, of Corneille, of Moliere, etc.?
+
+
+
+
+JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
+
+ Born in Geneva in 1712, died near Paris in 1778; his father
+ a mender of watches and teacher of dancing; lived from hand
+ to mouth until he was thirty-eight; achieved his first
+ literary reputation from a prize competition in 1749;
+ published "Le Devin du Village" in 1752, "La Nouvelle
+ Heloise" in 1761, "Le Contrat Social" in 1762, "Emile" in
+ 1762; the latter work led to his exile from France for five
+ years, during which he lived in Switzerland and England; his
+ "Confessions" published after his death in 1782; was the
+ father of five illegitimate children, each of whom he sent
+ to a foundling asylum.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+OF CHRIST AND SOCRATES
+
+
+I will confess that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with
+admiration, as the purity of the Gospel hath its influence on my
+heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers with all their pomp of
+diction; how mean, how contemptible are they compared with the
+Scriptures! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and sublime,
+should be merely the work of man? Is it possible that the sacred
+personage, whose history it contains, should be himself a mere man? Do
+we find that He assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious
+sectary? What sweetness, what purity in His manner! What an affecting
+gracefulness in His delivery! What sublimity in His maxims! what
+profound wisdom in His discourses? What presence of mind, what
+subtlety, what truth in His replies! How great the command over His
+passions! Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could so live,
+and so die, without weakness, and without ostentation? When Plato
+described his imaginary good man loaded with all the shame of guilt,
+yet meriting the highest rewards of virtue, he describes exactly the
+character of Jesus Christ: the resemblance was so striking that all
+the Fathers perceived it.
+
+What prepossession, what blindness must it be to compare the son of
+Sophronicus to the son of Mary! What an infinite disproportion there
+is between them! Socrates dying without pain or ignominy, easily
+supported his character to the last; and if his death, however easy,
+had not crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether Socrates,
+with all his wisdom, was anything more than a vain sophist. He
+invented, it is said, the theory of morals. Others, however, had
+before put them in practise; he had only to say, therefore, what they
+had done, and to reduce their examples to precepts. Aristides had been
+just before Socrates defined justice; Leonidas had given up his life
+for his country before Socrates declared patriotism to be a duty; the
+Spartans were a sober people before Socrates recommended sobriety;
+before he had even defined virtue Greece abounded in virtuous men.
+
+But where could Jesus learn, among His competitors, that pure and
+sublime morality, of which He only hath given us both precept and
+example? The greatest wisdom was made known amongst the most bigoted
+fanaticism, and the simplicity of the most heroic virtues did honor to
+the vilest people on earth. The death of Socrates, peaceably
+philosophizing with his friends, appears the most agreeable that could
+be wished for; that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing
+pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is the most
+horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of
+poison, blest, indeed, the weeping executioner who administered it;
+but Jesus, in the midst of excruciating torments, prayed for His
+merciless tormentors. Yes, if the life and death of Socrates were
+those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus are those of a God. Shall
+we suppose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed, my friend, it
+bears not the marks of fiction; on the contrary, the history of
+Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as
+that of Jesus Christ. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the
+difficulty without obviating it: it is more inconceivable that a
+number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one
+only should furnish the subject of it. The Jewish authors were
+incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality contained in
+the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so striking and inimitable
+that the inventor would be a more astonishing character than the
+hero.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+OF THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN[46]
+
+
+I have thought that the most essential part in the education of
+children, and which is seldom regarded in the best families, is to
+make them sensible of their inability, weakness, and dependence, and,
+as my husband called it, the heavy yoke of that necessity which nature
+has imposed upon our species; and that, not only in order to show them
+how much is done to alleviate the burden of that yoke, but especially
+to instruct them betimes in what rank Providence has placed them, that
+they may not presume too far above themselves, or be ignorant of the
+reciprocal duties of humanity.
+
+[Footnote 46: From the "New Heloise." The passage here given is from a
+letter supposed to have been written by a person who was visiting
+Heloise. One of the earliest English versions of the "New Heloise"
+appeared in 1784.]
+
+Young people who from their cradle have been brought up in ease and
+effeminacy, who have been caressed by every one, indulged in all their
+caprices, and have been used to obtain easily everything they desired,
+enter upon the world with many impertinent prejudices; of which they
+are generally cured by frequent mortifications, affronts, and chagrin.
+Now, I would willingly spare my children this kind of education by
+giving them, at first, a just notion of things. I had indeed once
+resolved to indulge my eldest son in everything he wanted, from a
+persuasion that the first impulses of nature must be good and
+salutary; but I was not long in discovering that children, conceiving
+from such treatment that they have a right to be obeyed, depart from a
+state of nature almost as soon as born--contracting our vices from our
+example, and theirs by our indiscretion. I saw that if I indulged him
+in all his humors they would only increase by such indulgence; that it
+was necessary to stop at some point, and that contradiction would be
+but the more mortifying as he should be less accustomed to it; but,
+that it might be less painful to him, I began to use it upon him by
+degrees, and in order to prevent his tears and lamentations I made
+every denial irrevocable.
+
+It is true, I contradict him as little as possible, and never without
+due consideration. Whatever is given or permitted him is done
+unconditionally and at the first instance; and in this we are
+indulgent enough; but he never gets anything by importunity, neither
+his tears nor entreaties being of any effect. Of this he is now so
+well convinced that he makes no use of them; he goes his way on the
+first word, and frets himself no more at seeing a box of sweetmeats
+taken away from him than at seeing a bird fly away which he would be
+glad to catch, there appearing to him the same impossibility of having
+the one as the other; and, so far from beating the chairs and tables,
+he dares not lift his hand against those who oppose him. In everything
+that displeases him he feels the weight of necessity, the effect of
+his own weakness.
+
+The great cause of the ill humor of children is the care which is
+taken either to quiet or to aggravate them. They will sometimes cry
+for an hour for no other reason in the world than because they
+perceive we would not have them. So long as we take notice of their
+crying, so long have they a reason for continuing to cry; but they
+will soon give over of themselves when they see no notice is taken of
+them; for, old or young, nobody loves to throw away his trouble. This
+is exactly the case with my eldest boy, who was once the most peevish
+little bawler, stunning the whole house with his cries; whereas now
+you can hardly hear there is a child in the house. He cries, indeed,
+when he is in pain; but then it is the voice of nature, which should
+never be restrained; and he is again hushed as soon as ever the pain
+is over. For this reason I pay great attention to his tears, as I am
+certain he never sheds them for nothing; and hence I have gained the
+advantage of being certain when he is in pain and when not; when he is
+well and when sick; an advantage which is lost with those who cry out
+of mere humor and only in order to be appeased. I must confess,
+however, that this management is not to be expected from nurses and
+governesses; for as nothing is more tiresome than to hear a child cry,
+and as these good women think of nothing but the time present, they do
+not foresee that by quieting it to-day it will cry the more to-morrow.
+But, what is still worse, this indulgence produces an obstinacy which
+is of more consequence as the child grows up. The very cause that
+makes it a squaller at three years of age will make it stubborn and
+refractory at twelve, quarrelsome at twenty, imperious and insolent at
+thirty, and insupportable all its life.
+
+In every indulgence granted to children they can easily see our desire
+to please them, and therefore they should be taught to suppose we have
+reason for refusing or complying with their requests. This is another
+advantage gained by making use of authority, rather than persuasion,
+on every necessary occasion. For, as it is impossible they can be
+always blind to our motives, it is natural for them to imagine that we
+have some reason for contradicting them, of which, they are ignorant.
+On the contrary, when we have once submitted to their judgment, they
+will pretend to judge of everything, and thus become cunning,
+deceitful, fruitful in shifts and chicanery, endeavoring to silence
+those who are weak enough to argue with them; for when one is obliged
+to give them an account of things above their comprehension, they
+attribute the most prudent conduct to caprice, because they are
+incapable of understanding it. In a word, the only way to render
+children docile and capable of reasoning is not to reason with them at
+all, but to convince them that it is above their childish capacities;
+for they will always suppose the argument in their favor unless you
+can give them good cause to think otherwise. They know very well that
+we are unwilling to displease them, when they are certain of our
+affection; and children are seldom mistaken in this particular:
+therefore, if I deny anything to my children, I never reason with
+them, I never tell them why I do so and so; but I endeavor, as much as
+possible, that they should find it out, and that even after the affair
+is over. By these means they are accustomed to think that I never
+deny them anything without a sufficient reason, tho they can not
+always see it.
+
+On the same principle it is that I never suffer my children to join in
+the conversation of grown people, or foolishly imagine themselves on
+an equality with them, because they are permitted to prattle. I would
+have them give a short and modest answer when they are spoken to, but
+never to speak of their own head, or ask impertinent questions of
+persons so much older than themselves, to whom they ought to show more
+respect....
+
+What can a child think of himself when he sees a circle of sensible
+people listening to, admiring, and waiting impatiently for his wit,
+and breaking out in raptures at every impertinent expression? Such
+false applause is enough to turn the head of a grown person; judge,
+then, what effect it must have upon that of a child. It is with the
+prattle of children as with the prediction in the almanac. It would be
+strange if, amidst such a number of idle words, chance did not now and
+then jumble some of them into sense. Imagine the effect which such
+flattering exclamations must have on a simple mother, already too much
+flattered by her own heart. Think not, however, that I am proof
+against this error because I expose it. No, I see the fault, and yet
+am guilty of it. But, if I sometimes admire the repartees of my son, I
+do it at least in secret. He will not learn to become a vain prater by
+hearing me applaud him, nor will flatterers have the pleasure, in
+making me repeat them, of laughing at my weakness.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE STAEL
+
+ Born in Paris, 1763, died there in 1817; daughter of Necker,
+ the Minister of Finance, and Susanne Courchod, the
+ sweetheart of Gibbon; married to the Baron of
+ Stael-Holstein, the Swedish ambassador to France, in 1786;
+ lived in Germany in 1803-04; traveled in Italy in 1805;
+ published "Corinne" in 1807; returned to Germany in 1808;
+ and finished "De l'Allemagne," the first edition of which
+ was destroyed, probably at the instigation of Napoleon, who
+ became her bitter enemy; exiled from France by Napoleon in
+ 1812-14.
+
+
+
+
+OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE[47]
+
+
+General Bonaparte made himself as conspicuous by his character and his
+intellect as by his victories; and the imagination of the French began
+to be touched by him [1797]. His proclamations to the Cisalpine and
+Ligurian republics were talked of.... A tone of moderation and of
+dignity pervaded his style, which contrasted with the revolutionary
+harshness of the civil rulers of France. The warrior spoke in those
+days like a lawgiver, while the lawgivers exprest themselves with
+soldier-like violence. General Bonaparte had not executed in his army
+the decrees against the emigres. It was said that he loved his wife,
+whose character is full of sweetness; it was asserted that he felt
+the beauties of Ossian; it was a pleasure to attribute to him all the
+generous qualities that form a noble background for extraordinary
+abilities....
+
+[Footnote 47: From "Considerations on the French Revolution." This
+work was not published until 1818, three years after the exile of
+Napoleon to St. Helena. An English translation appeared in 1819.]
+
+Such at least was my own mood when I saw him for the first time in
+Paris. I could find no words with which to reply to him when he came
+to me to tell me that he had tried to visit my father at Coppet, and
+that he was sorry to have passed through Switzerland without seeing
+him. But when I had somewhat recovered from the agitation of
+admiration, it was followed by a feeling of very marked fear.
+Bonaparte then had no power: he was thought even to be more or less in
+danger from the vague suspiciousness of the Directory; so that the
+fear he inspired was caused only by the singular effect of his
+personality upon almost every one who had intercourse with him. I had
+seen men worthy of high respect; I had also seen ferocious men: there
+was nothing in the impression Bonaparte produced upon me which could
+remind me of men of either type. I soon perceived, on the different
+occasions when I met him during his stay in Paris, that his character
+could not be defined by the words we are accustomed to make use of: he
+was neither kindly nor violent, neither gentle nor cruel, after the
+fashion of other men. Such a being, so unlike others, could neither
+excite nor feel sympathy: he was more or less than man. His bearing,
+his mind, his language have the marks of a foreigner's nature--an
+advantage the more in subjugating Frenchmen....
+
+Far from being reassured by seeing Bonaparte often, he always
+intimidated me more and more. I felt vaguely that no emotional feeling
+could influence him. He regards a human creature as a fact or a thing,
+but not as an existence like his own. He feels no more hate than love.
+For him there is no one but himself: all other creatures are mere
+ciphers. The force of his will consists in the imperturbable
+calculations of his egotism: he is an able chess-player whose opponent
+is all humankind, whom he intends to checkmate. His success is due as
+much to the qualities he lacks as to the talents he possesses. Neither
+pity, nor sympathy, nor religion, nor attachment to any idea
+whatsoever would have power to turn him from his path. He has the same
+devotion to his own interests that a good man has to virtue: if the
+object were noble, his persistency would be admirable.
+
+Every time that I heard him talk I was struck by his superiority; it
+was of a kind, however, that had no relation to that of men instructed
+and cultivated by study, or by society, such as England and France
+possess examples of. But his conversation indicated that quick
+perception of circumstances the hunter has in pursuing his prey.
+Sometimes he related the political and military events of his life in
+a very interesting manner; he had even, in narratives that admitted
+gaiety, a touch of Italian imagination. Nothing, however, could
+conquer my invincible alienation from what I perceived in him. I saw
+in his soul a cold and cutting sword, which froze while wounding; I
+saw in his mind a profound irony, from which nothing fine or noble
+could escape not even his own glory: for he despised the nation whose
+suffrages he desired; and no spark of enthusiasm mingled with his
+craving to astonish the human race....
+
+His face, thin and pale at that time, was very agreeable: since then
+he has gained flesh--which does not become him; for one needs to
+believe such a man to be tormented by his own character, at all to
+tolerate the sufferings this character causes others. As his stature
+is short, and yet his waist very long, he appeared to much greater
+advantage on horseback than on foot; in all ways it is war, and war
+only, he is fitted for. His manner in society is constrained without
+being timid; it is disdainful when he is on his guard, and vulgar when
+he is at ease; his air of disdain suits him best, and so he is not
+sparing in the use of it. He took pleasure already in the part of
+embarrassing people by saying disagreeable things: an art which he has
+since made a system of, as of all other methods of subjugating men by
+degrading them.
+
+
+
+
+VISCOUNT DE CHATEAUBRIAND
+
+ Born in France in 1768, died in 1848; entered the French
+ army in 1786; traveled in America in 1791-92; emigrated to
+ England, where in 1797 he published his "Essai Historique,
+ Politique et Moral"; returned to France in 1800; converted
+ to the Catholic faith through the death of his mother;
+ published in 1802 "The Genius of Christianity"; made
+ secretary of legation in Rome by Napoleon in 1803, and later
+ minister to the republic of Valais, but resigned in 1804
+ after the execution of the Duke of Enghien; supported the
+ Bourbons in 1814; made a peer of France in 1815; ambassador
+ to England in 1822; Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1823;
+ published his "Memoirs" in 1849-50.
+
+
+
+
+IN AN AMERICAN FOREST[48]
+
+
+When, in my journeys among the Indian tribes of Canada, I left
+European dwellings, and found myself, for the first time, alone in the
+midst of an ocean of forests, having, so to speak, all nature
+prostrate at my feet, a strange change took place within me. In the
+kind of delirium which seized me, I followed no road; I went from tree
+to tree, now to the right, now to the left, saying to myself, "Here
+there are no more roads to follow, no more towns, no more narrow
+houses, no more presidents, republics, or kings--above all, no more
+laws, and no more men." Men! Yes, some good savages, who cared nothing
+for me, nor I for them; who, like me, wandered freely wherever their
+fancy led them, eating when they felt inclined, sleeping when and
+where they pleased. And, in order to see if I were really established
+in my original rights, I gave myself up to a thousand acts of
+eccentricity, which enraged the tall Dutchman who was my guide, and
+who, in his heart, thought I was mad.
+
+[Footnote 48: From the "Essay on Revolutions." While in America,
+Chateaubriand visited Canada, traveling inland through the United
+States from Niagara to Florida. He arrived home in Paris at the time
+of the execution of Louis XVI. His "Essay on Revolutions" was
+published five years later.]
+
+Escaped from the tyrannous yoke of society, I understood then the
+charms of that independence of nature which far surpasses all the
+pleasures of which civilized man can form any idea. I understood why
+not one savage has become a European, and why many Europeans have
+become savages; why the sublime "Discourse on the Inequality of Rank"
+is so little understood by the most part of our philosophers. It is
+incredible how small and diminished the nations and their most boasted
+institutions appeared in my eyes; it seemed to me as if I saw the
+kingdoms of the earth through an inverted spy-glass, or rather that,
+being myself grown and elevated, I looked down on the rest of my
+degenerate race with the eye of a giant.
+
+You who wish to write about men, go into the deserts, become for a
+moment the child of nature, and then--and then only--take up the pen.
+
+Among the innumerable enjoyments of this journey one especially made a
+vivid impression on my mind.
+
+I was going then to see the famous cataract of Niagara, and I had
+taken my way through the Indian tribes who inhabit the deserts to the
+west of the American plantations. My guides were--the sun, a
+pocket-compass, and the Dutchman of whom I have spoken: the latter
+understood perfectly five dialects of the Huron language. Our train
+consisted of two horses, which we let loose in the forests at night,
+after fastening a bell to their necks. I was at first a little afraid
+of losing them, but my guide reassured me by pointing out that, by a
+wonderful instinct, these good animals never wandered out of sight of
+our fire.
+
+One evening, when, as we calculated that we were only about eight or
+nine leagues from the cataract, we were preparing to dismount before
+sunset, in order to build our hut and light our watch-fire after the
+Indian fashion, we perceived in the wood the fires of some savages who
+were encamped a little lower down on the shores of the same stream as
+we were. We went to them. The Dutchman having by my orders asked their
+permission for us to pass the night with them, which was granted
+immediately, we set to work with our hosts. After having cut down some
+branches, planted some stakes, torn off some bark to cover our palace,
+and performed some other public offices, each of us attended to his
+own affairs. I brought my saddle, which served me well for a pillow
+all through my travels; the guide rubbed down the horses; and as to
+his night accommodation, since he was not so particular as I am, he
+generally made use of the dry trunk of a tree. Work being done, we
+seated ourselves in a circle, with our legs crossed like tailors,
+around the immense fire, to roast our heads of maize, and to prepare
+supper. I had still a flask of brandy, which served to enliven our
+savages not a little. They found out that they had some bear hams, and
+we began a royal feast.
+
+The family consisted of two women, with infants at their breasts, and
+three warriors; two of them might be from forty to forty-five years of
+age, altho they appeared much older, and the third was a young man.
+
+The conversation soon became general; that is to say, on my side it
+consisted of broken words and many gestures--an expressive language,
+which these nations understand remarkably well, and that I had learned
+among them. The young man alone preserved an obstinate silence; he
+kept his eyes constantly fixt on me. In spite of the black, red, and
+blue stripes, cut ears, and the pearl hanging from his nose, with
+which he was disfigured, it was easy to see the nobility and
+sensibility which animated his countenance. How well I knew he was
+inclined not to love me! It seemed to me as if he were reading in his
+heart the history of all the wrongs which Europeans have inflicted on
+his native country. The two children, quite naked, were asleep at our
+feet before the fire; the women took them quietly into their arms and
+put them to bed among the skins, with a mother's tenderness so
+delightful to witness in these so-called savages: the conversation
+died away by degrees, and each fell asleep in the place where he was.
+
+I alone could not close my eyes, hearing on all sides the deep
+breathing of my hosts. I raised my head, and, supporting myself on my
+elbow, watched by the red light of the expiring fire the Indians
+stretched around me and plunged in sleep. I confess that I could
+hardly refrain from tears. Brave youth, how your peaceful sleep
+affects me! You, who seemed so sensible of the woes of your native
+land, you were too great, too high-minded to mistrust the foreigner!
+Europeans, what a lesson for you! These same savages whom we have
+pursued with fire and sword, to whom our avarice would not leave a
+spadeful of earth to cover their corpses in all this world, formerly
+their vast patrimony--these same savages receiving their enemy into
+their hospitable hut, sharing with him their miserable meal, and,
+their couch undisturbed by remorse, sleeping close to him the calm
+sleep of the innocent. These virtues are as much above the virtues of
+conventional life as the soul of tho man in his natural state is above
+that of the man in society.
+
+It was moonlight. Feverish with thinking, I got up and seated myself
+at a little distance on a root which ran along the edge of the
+streamlet: it was one of those American nights which the pencil of man
+can never represent, and the remembrance of which I have a hundred
+times recalled with delight.
+
+The moon was at the highest point of the heavens; here and there at
+wide, clear intervals twinkled a thousand stars. Sometimes the moon
+rested on a group of clouds which looked like the summit of high
+mountains crowned with snow: little by little these clouds grew
+longer, and rolled out into transparent and waving zones of white
+satin, or transformed themselves into light flakes of froth, into
+innumerable wandering flocks in the blue plains of the firmament.
+Another time the arch of heaven seemed changed into a shore on which
+one could discover horizontal rows, parallel lines such as are made by
+the regular ebb and flow of the sea; a gust of wind tore this veil
+again, and everywhere appeared in the sky great banks of dazzlingly
+white down, so soft to the eye that one seemed to feel their softness
+and elasticity. The scene on the earth was not less delightful: the
+silvery and velvety light of the moon floated silently over the top of
+the forests, and at intervals went down among the trees, casting rays
+of light even through the deepest shadows. The narrow brook which
+flowed at my feet, burying itself from time to time among the thickets
+of oak-, willow-, and sugar-trees, and reappearing a little farther
+off in the glades, all sparkling with the constellations of the night,
+seemed like a ribbon of azure silk spotted with diamond stars and
+striped with black bands. On the other side of the river, in a wide,
+natural meadow, the moonlight rested quietly on the pastures, where it
+was spread out like a sheet. Some birch-trees scattered here and there
+over the savannas, sometimes blending, according to the caprice of the
+winds, with the background, seemed to surround themselves with a pale
+gauze--sometimes rising up again from their chalky foundations, hidden
+in the darkness, formed, as it were, islands of floating shadows on an
+immovable sea of light. Near all was silence and repose, except the
+falling of the leaves, the rough passing of a sudden wind, the rare
+and interrupted whooping of the gray owl; but in the distance at
+intervals one heard the solemn rolling of the cataract of Niagara,
+which in the calm of the night echoed from desert to desert and died
+away in solitary forests.
+
+The grandeur, the astonishing melancholy of this picture can not be
+exprest in human language: the most beautiful nights in Europe can
+give no idea of it. In the midst of our cultivated fields the
+imagination vainly seeks to expand itself; everywhere it meets with
+the dwellings of man; but in these desert countries the soul delights
+in penetrating and losing itself in these eternal forests; it loves to
+wander by the light of the moon on the borders of immense lakes, to
+hover over the roaring gulf of terrible cataracts, to fall with the
+masses of water, and, so to speak, mix and blend itself with a sublime
+and savage nature. These enjoyments are too keen; such is our weakness
+that exquisite pleasures become griefs, as if nature feared that we
+should forget that we are men. Absorbed in my existence, or rather
+drawn quite out of myself, having neither feeling nor distinct
+thought, but an indescribable I know not what, which was like that
+happiness which they say we shall enjoy in the other life, I was all
+at once recalled to this. I felt unwell, and perceived that I must not
+linger. I returned to our encampment, where, lying down by the
+savages, I soon fell into a deep sleep.
+
+
+
+
+FRANCOIS GUIZOT
+
+ Born in France in 1787, died in 1874; became a professor of
+ literature in 1812, and later of modern history at the
+ Sorbonne; published his "History of Civilization" in
+ 1828-1830; elected to the Chamber of Deputies in 1830;
+ Minister of the Interior, 1830; Ambassador to England, in
+ 1840; returning, entered the Cabinet where he remained until
+ 1848, being at one time Prime Minister; after 1848 went into
+ retirement and published books frequently until his death.
+
+
+
+
+SHAKESPEARE AS AN EXAMPLE OF CIVILIZATION[49]
+
+
+Voltaire was the first person in France who spoke of Shakespeare's
+genius;[50] and altho he spoke of him merely as a barbarian genius,
+the French public were of opinion that Voltaire had said too much in
+his favor. Indeed, they thought it nothing less than profanation to
+apply the words "genius" and "glory" to dramas which they considered
+as crude as they were coarse.
+
+[Footnote 49: From "Shakespeare and His Times."]
+
+[Footnote 50: Voltaire's references to Shakespeare were made in his
+"Letters on England." From them dates the beginning of French interest
+in the English poet.]
+
+At the present day all controversy regarding Shakespeare's genius and
+glory has come to an end. No one ventures any longer to dispute them;
+but a greater question has arisen--namely, whether Shakespeare's
+dramatic system is not far superior to that of Voltaire. This question
+I do not presume to decide. I merely say that it is now open for
+discussion. We have been led to it by the onward progress of ideas. I
+shall endeavor to point out the causes which have brought it about;
+but at present I insist merely upon the fact itself, and deduce from
+it one simple consequence, that literary criticism has changed its
+ground, and can no longer remain restricted to the limits within which
+it was formerly confined.
+
+Literature does not escape from the revolutions of the human mind; it
+is compelled to follow it in its course, to transport itself beneath
+the horizon under which it is conveyed, to gain elevation and
+extension with the ideas which occupy its notice, and to consider the
+questions which it discusses under the new aspects and novel
+circumstances in which they are placed by the new state of thought and
+of society....
+
+When we embrace human destiny in all its aspects, and human nature in
+all the conditions of man upon earth, we enter into possession of an
+exhaustless treasure. It is the peculiar advantage of such a system
+that it escapes, by its extent, from the dominion of any particular
+genius. We may discover its principles in Shakespeare's works; but he
+was not fully acquainted with them, nor did he always respect them. He
+should serve as an example, not as a model. Some men, even of superior
+talent, have attempted to write plays according to Shakespeare's
+taste, without perceiving that they were deficient in one important
+qualification for the task; and that was to write as he did, to write
+them for our age just as Shakespeare's plays were written for the age
+in which he lived. This is an enterprise the difficulties of which
+have, hitherto, perhaps, been maturely considered by no one.
+
+We have seen how much art and effort were employed by Shakespeare to
+surmount those which are inherent in his system. They are still
+greater in our times, and would unveil themselves much more completely
+to the spirit of criticism which now accompanies the boldest essays of
+genius. It is not only with spectators of more fastidious taste and of
+more idle and inattentive imagination that the poet would have to do
+who should venture to follow in Shakespeare's footsteps. He would be
+called upon to give movement to personages embarrassed in much more
+complicated interests, preoccupied with much more various feelings,
+and subject to less simple habits of mind and to less decided
+tendencies. Neither science, nor reflection, nor the scruples of
+conscience, nor the uncertainties of thought frequently encumber
+Shakespeare's heroes; doubt is of little use among them, and the
+violence of their passions speedily transfers their belief to the side
+of the desires, or sets their actions above their belief. Hamlet alone
+presents the confused spectacle of a mind formed by the enlightenment
+of society in conflict with a position contrary to its laws; and he
+needs a supernatural apparition to determine him to act, and a
+fortuitous event to accomplish his project. If incessantly placed in
+an analogous position, the personages of a tragedy conceived at the
+present day according to the romantic system would offer us the same
+picture of indecision. Ideas now crowd and intersect each other in the
+mind of man, duties multiply in his conscience and obstacles and bonds
+around his life. Instead of those electric brains, prompt to
+communicate the spark which they have received; instead of those
+ardent and simple-minded men, whose projects like Macbeth's "will to
+hand"--the world now presents to the poet minds like Hamlet's, deep in
+the observation of those inward conflicts which our classical system
+has derived from a state of society more advanced than that of the
+time in which Shakespeare lived. So many feelings, interests, and
+ideas, the necessary consequences of modern civilization, might become
+even in their simplest form of expression a troublesome burden, which
+it would be difficult to carry through the rapid evolutions and bold
+advances of the romantic system.
+
+We must, however, satisfy every demand; success itself requires it.
+The reason must be contented at the same time that the imagination is
+occupied. The progress of taste, of enlightenment, of society, and of
+mankind, must serve not to diminish or disturb our enjoyment, but to
+render them worthy of ourselves and capable of supplying the new wants
+which we have contracted. Advance without rule and art in the romantic
+system, and you will produce melodramas calculated to excite a passing
+emotion in the multitude, but in the multitude alone, and for a few
+days; just as by dragging along without originality in the classical
+system you will satisfy only that cold literary class who are
+acquainted with nothing in nature which is more important than the
+interests of versification, or more imposing than the three unities.
+This is not the work of the poet who is called to power and destined
+for glory: he acts upon a grander scale, and can address the superior
+intellects as well as the general and simple faculties of all men. It
+is doubtless necessary that the crowd should throng to behold those
+dramatic works of which you desire to make a national spectacle; but
+do not hope to become national, if you do not unite in your
+festivities all those classes of persons and minds whose well-arranged
+hierarchy raises a nation to its loftiest dignity. Genius is bound to
+follow human nature in all its developments; its strength consists in
+finding within itself the means for constantly satisfying the whole of
+the public. The same task is now imposed upon government and upon
+poetry: both should exist for all, and suffice at once for the wants
+of the masses and for the requirements of the most exalted minds.
+
+Doubtless stopt in its course by these conditions, the full severity
+of which will only be revealed to the talent that can comply with
+them, dramatic art, even in England, where under the protection of
+Shakespeare it would have liberty to attempt anything, scarcely
+ventures at the present day even to try timidly to follow him.
+Meanwhile England, France, and the whole of Europe demand of the drama
+pleasures and emotions that can no longer be supplied by the inanimate
+representation of a world that has ceased to exist. The classical
+system had its origin in the life of its time: that time has passed;
+its image subsists in brilliant colors in its works, but can no more
+be reproduced. Near the monuments of past ages, the monuments of
+another age are now beginning to arise. What will be their form? I can
+not tell; but the ground upon which their foundations may rest is
+already perceptible.
+
+This ground is not the ground of Corneille and Racine, nor is it that
+of Shakespeare; it is our own; but Shakespeare's system, as it appears
+to me, may furnish the plans according to which genius ought now to
+work. This system alone includes all those social conditions and all
+those general or diverse feelings, the simultaneous conjunction and
+activity of which constitute for us at the present day the spectacle
+of human things. Witnesses during thirty years of the greatest
+revolutions of society, we shall no longer willingly confine the
+movement of our mind within the narrow space of some family event, or
+the agitations of a purely individual passion. The nature and destiny
+of man have appeared to us under their most striking and their
+simplest aspect, in all their extent and in all their variableness. We
+require pictures in which this spectacle is reproduced, in which man
+is displayed in his completeness and excites our entire sympathy.
+
+
+
+
+ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE
+
+ Born in 1790, died in 1869; famous chiefly as a poet, being
+ one of the greatest in modern France, but successful as an
+ orator and prominent in political life during the troubled
+ period of 1848, when he was Minister of Foreign Affairs;
+ author of several historical works, among them the "History
+ of the Girondists."
+
+
+
+
+OF MIRABEAU'S ORIGIN AND PLACE IN HISTORY[51]
+
+
+He was born a gentleman and of ancient lineage, refugees established
+in Provence, but of Italian origin. The progenitors were Tuscan. The
+family was one of those whom Florence had cast from her bosom in the
+stormy excesses of her liberty, and for which Dante reproaches his
+country in such bitter strains for her exiles and prosecutions. The
+blood of Machiavelli and the earthquake genius of the Italian
+republics were characteristics of all the individuals of this race.
+The proportions of their souls exceed the height of their destiny:
+vices, passions, virtues are all in excess. The women are all angelic
+or perverse, the men sublime or depraved, and their language even is
+as emphatic and lofty as their aspirations. There is in their most
+familiar correspondence the color and tone of the heroic tongues of
+Italy.
+
+[Footnote 51: From Book I of the "History of the Girondists"--the
+translation of R. T. Ryde in Bonn's Library, as revised for this
+collection.]
+
+The ancestors of Mirabeau speak of their domestic affairs as Plutarch
+of the quarrels of Marius and Sulla, of Caesar and Pompey. We perceive
+the great men descending to trifling matters. Mirabeau inspired this
+domestic majesty and virility in his very cradle. I dwell on these
+details, which may seem foreign to this history, but they explain it.
+The source of genius is often in ancestry, and the blood of descent is
+sometimes the prophecy of destiny.
+
+Mirabeau's education was as rough and rude as the hand of his father,
+who was styled the friend of man, but whose restless spirit and
+selfish vanity rendered him the persecutor of his wife and the tyrant
+of all his family. The only virtue he was taught was honor, for by
+that name in those days they dignified that ceremonious demeanor which
+was too frequently only the show of probity and the elegance of vice.
+Entering the army at an early age, he acquired nothing of military
+habits except a love of licentiousness and play. The hand of his
+father was constantly extended not to aid him in rising, but to
+depress him still lower under the consequences of his errors. His
+youth was passed in the prisons of the state, where his passions,
+becoming envenomed by solitude, and his intellect rendered more acute
+by contact with the irons of his dungeon, his mind lost that modesty
+which rarely survives the infamy of precocious punishments.
+
+Released from jail, in order, by his father's command, to attempt to
+form a marriage beset with difficulties with Mademoiselle de Marignan,
+a rich heiress of one of the greatest families of Provence, he
+displayed, like a wrestler, all kinds of stratagems and daring schemes
+of policy in the small theater of Aix. Not only cunning, seduction,
+and courage, but every resource of his nature was used to succeed, and
+he succeeded; but he was hardly married before fresh persecutions
+beset him, and the stronghold of Pontarlier gaped to enclose him. A
+love, which his "Lettres a Sophie" has rendered immortal, opened its
+gates and freed him. He carried off Madame de Monier from her aged
+husband. The lovers, happy for some months, took refuge in Holland;
+they were seized there, separated and shut up, the one in a convent
+and the other in the dungeon of Vincennes.
+
+Love, which, like fire in the veins of the earth, is always detected
+in some crevice of man's destiny, lighted up in a single and ardent
+blaze all the passions of Mirabeau. In his vengeance it was outraged
+love that he appeased; in liberty it was love which he sought and
+which delivered him; in study it was love which still illustrated his
+path. Entering his cell an obscure man, he quitted it a writer,
+orator, statesman, but perverted--ripe for anything, even ready to
+sell himself, in order to buy fortune and celebrity. The drama of life
+had been conceived in his head; he wanted only the stage, and that was
+being prepared for him by time. During the few short years which
+elapsed between his leaving the keep of Vincennes and the tribune of
+the National Assembly, he employed himself with polemic labors which
+would have weighed down another man, but which only kept Mirabeau in
+health. Such topics as the bank of Saint Charles, the institutions of
+Holland, the books on Prussia, with Beaumarchais (his style and
+character), with lengthened pleadings on questions of warfare, the
+balance of European power, finance, leading to biting invectives and
+wars of words with the ministers of the hour, made scenes that
+resembled those in the Roman forum of the days of Clodius and Cicero.
+We discern the men of antiquity even in his most modern controversies.
+We may hear the first roarings or popular tumults which were so soon
+to burst forth, and which his voice was destined to control.
+
+At the first election of Aix, when rejected with contempt by the
+noblesse, he cast himself into the arms of the people, certain of
+making the balance incline to the side on which he should cast the
+weight of his daring and his genius. Marseilles contended with Aix for
+the great plebeian; his two elections, the discourses he then
+delivered, the addresses he drew up, the energy he employed commanded
+the attention of all France. His sonorous phrases became the proverbs
+of the Revolution. Comparing himself, in his lofty language, to the
+men of antiquity, he placed himself already in the public estimation
+in the elevated position he aspired to reach. Men became accustomed to
+identify him with the names he cited; he made a loud noise in order to
+prepare minds for great commotions; he announced himself proudly to
+the nation, in that sublime apostrophe in his address to the
+Marseillais: "When the last of the Gracchi expired, he flung dust
+toward heaven, and from this dust sprang Marius!--Marius, who was less
+great for having exterminated the Cimbri than for having prostrated
+in Rome the aristocracy of the nobility."
+
+From the moment of his entry into the National Assembly Mirabeau
+filled it: he became the whole people. His gestures were commands; his
+movements _coups d'etat_. He placed himself on a level with the
+throne, and the nobility itself felt itself subdued by a power
+emanating from its own body. The clergy, and the people, with their
+desires to reconcile democracy with the church, lent him their
+influence, in order to destroy the double aristocracy of the nobility
+and bishops.
+
+All that had been built by antiquity and cemented by ages fell in a
+few months. Mirabeau alone preserved his presence of mind in the midst
+of ruin. His character of tribune then ceased, that of the statesman
+began, and in this part he was even greater than in the other. There,
+when all else crept and crawled, he acted with firmness, advancing
+boldly. The Revolution in his brain was no longer a momentary idea--it
+became a settled plan. The philosophy of the eighteenth century,
+moderated by the prudence of policy, flowed easily from his lips. His
+eloquence, imperative as the law, was now a talent for giving force to
+reason. His language lighted and inspired everything; and tho almost
+alone at this moment, he had the courage to remain alone. He braved
+envy, hatred, murmurs, supported as he was by a strong feeling of his
+superiority. He dismissed with disdain the passions which had hitherto
+beset him. He would no longer serve them when his cause no longer
+needed them. He spoke to men now only in the name of his genius, a
+title which was enough to cause obedience to him....
+
+The characteristic of his genius, so well defined, so ill understood,
+was less audacity than justness. Beneath the grandeur of his
+expression was always to be found unfailing good sense. His very vices
+could not repress the clearness, the sincerity of his understanding.
+At the foot of the tribune, he was a man devoid of shame or virtue: in
+the tribune, he was an honest man. Abandoned to private debauchery,
+bought over by foreign powers, sold to the court in order to satisfy
+his lavish expenditures, he preserved, amidst all this infamous
+traffic of his powers, the incorruptibility of his genius. Of all the
+qualities of being the great man of an age, Mirabeau was wanting only
+in honesty. The people were not his devotees, but his instruments. His
+faith was in posterity. His conscience existed only in his thought.
+The fanaticism of his ideas was quite human. The chilling materialism
+of his age had crusht in his heart all expansive force, and craving
+for imperishable things. His dying words were: "Sprinkle me with
+perfumes, crown me with flowers, that I may thus enter upon eternal
+sleep." He was especially of his time, and his course bears no impress
+of infinity. Neither his character, his acts, nor his thoughts have
+the brand of immortality. If he had believed, in God, he might have
+died a martyr.
+
+
+
+
+LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS
+
+ Born in 1797, died in 1877; settled in Paris in 1821;
+ published his "History of the French Revolution" in 1823-27;
+ established with Mignet and others the _National_ in 1830,
+ in which he contributed largely to the overthrow of the
+ Bourbons; supported Louis Philippe; became a member of
+ various cabinets, 1832-36; Premier in 1836 and 1840;
+ published his "Consulate and Empire" in 1845-62; arrested by
+ Louis Napoleon in 1851; led the opposition to the Empire in
+ 1863; protested against the war of 1870; conducted the
+ negotiations with Germany for an armistice; chosen chief of
+ the executive power in 1871; negotiated the peace with
+ Germany; supprest the Commune; elected President in 1871,
+ resigning in 1873.
+
+
+
+
+THE BURNING OF MOSCOW[52]
+
+
+At last, having reached the summit of a hill, the army suddenly
+discovered below them, and at no great distance, an immense city
+shining with a thousand colors, surmounted by a host of gilded domes,
+resplendent with light; a singular mixture of woods, lakes, cottages,
+palaces, churches, bell-towers, a town both Gothic and Byzantine,
+realizing all that the Eastern stories relate of the marvels of Asia.
+While the monasteries, flanked with towers, formed the girdle of this
+great city, in the center, raised on an eminence, was a strong
+citadel, a kind of capitol, whence were seen at the same time the
+temples of the Deity and the palaces of the emperors, where above
+embattled walls rose majestic domes, bearing the emblem that
+represents the whole history of Russia and her ambition, the cross
+over the reversed crescent. This citadel was the Kremlin, the ancient
+abode of the Czars.
+
+[Footnote 52: From Book XLIV of the "History of the Consulate and
+Empire." Napoleon's army entered Moscow on September 15, 1812, or
+seven days after the battle of Borodino, "the bloodiest battle of the
+century," the losses on each side having been about 40,000. Napoleon
+had crossed the river Niemen in June of this year with an invading
+army of 400,000 men. When he crossed it again in December, after the
+burning of Moscow, the French numbered only 20,000, The "Consulate and
+Empire" has been translated by D. F. Campbell, F. N. Redhead and N.
+Stapleton.]
+
+The imagination, and the idea of glory, being both excited by this
+magical spectacle, the soldiers raised one shout of "Moscow! Moscow!"
+Those who had remained at the foot of the hill hastened to reach the
+top; for a moment all ranks mingled, and everybody wished to
+contemplate the great capital, toward which we had made such an
+adventurous march. One could not have enough of this dazzling
+spectacle, calculated to awaken so many different feelings. Napoleon
+arrived in his turn, and, struck with what he saw, he--who, like the
+oldest soldiers in the army, had successively visited Cairo, Memphis,
+the Jordan, Milan, Vienna, Berlin, and Madrid--could not help
+experiencing deep emotion.
+
+Arrived at this summit of his glory, from which he was to descend with
+such a rapid step toward the abyss, he experienced a sort of
+intoxication, forgot all the reproaches that his good sense, the only
+conscience of conquerors, had addrest to him for two months, and for a
+moment believed still that his enterprise was a great and marvelous
+one--that to have dared to march from Paris to Smolensk, from Smolensk
+to Moscow, was a great and happy rashness, justified by the event.
+Certain of his glory, he still believed in his good fortune, and his
+lieutenants, as amazed as he, remembering no more their frequent
+discontents during this campaign, gave vent to those victorious
+demonstrations in which they had not indulged at the termination of
+the bloody day of Borodino. This moment of satisfaction, lively and
+short, was one of the most deeply felt in his life. Alas! it was to be
+the last!
+
+Murat received the injunction to march quickly, to avoid all disorder.
+General Durosnel was sent forward to hold communication with the
+authorities, and lead them to the conqueror's feet, who desired to
+receive their homage and calm their fears. M. Denniee was charged to
+go and prepare food and lodging for the army, Murat, galloping at the
+head of the light cavalry, arrived, at length, across the faubourg of
+Drogomilow, at the bridge of the Moskowa. There he found a Russian
+rear-guard, who were retreating, and inquired if there was no officer
+there who knew French. A young Russian, who spoke our language
+correctly, presented himself immediately before this king, whom
+hostile nations knew so well, and asked what he wanted. Murat having
+exprest a wish to know which was the commander of this rear-guard, the
+young Russian pointed out an officer with white hair, clothed in a
+bivouac cloak of long fur. Murat, with his accustomed grace, held out
+his hand to the old officer, who took it eagerly. Thus national hatred
+was silenced before valor.
+
+Murat asked the commander of the enemy's rear-guard if they knew him.
+"Yes," replied the latter, "we have seen enough of you under fire to
+know you." Murat seeming struck with, the long fur mantle, which
+looked as if it would be very comfortable for a bivouac, the old
+officer unfastened it from his shoulders to make him a present of it.
+Murat, receiving it with as much courtesy as it was offered, took a
+beautiful watch and presented it to the enemy's officer, who received
+this present in the same way as his had been accepted. After these
+acts of courtesy, the Russian rear-guard filed off rapidly to give
+ground to our vanguard. The King of Naples, followed by his staff and
+a detachment of cavalry, went down into the streets of Moscow,
+traversed alternately the poorest and the richest quarters, rows of
+wooden houses crowded together, and a succession of splendid palaces
+rising from amidst vast gardens: he found everywhere the most profound
+silence. It seemed as if they were penetrating into a dead city, whose
+inhabitants had suddenly disappeared.
+
+The first sight of it, surprizing as it was, did not remind us of our
+entry into Berlin or Vienna, Nevertheless, the first feeling of terror
+experienced by the inhabitants might explain this solitude. Suddenly
+some distracted individuals appeared; they were some French people,
+belonging to the foreign families settled at Moscow, and asked us in
+the name of heaven to save them from the robbers who had become
+masters of the town. They were well received, but we tried in vain to
+remove their fears. We were conducted to the Kremlin,[53] and had
+hardly arrived in sight of these old walls than we were exposed to a
+discharge of shot. It came from bandits let loose on Moscow by the
+ferocious patriotism of the Count of Rostopchin. These wretched beings
+had invaded the sacred citadel, had seized the guns in the arsenal,
+and were firing on the French who came to disturb them after their few
+hours' reign of anarchy. Several were sabered, and the Kremlin was
+relieved of their presence. But on making inquiry we learned that the
+whole population had fled, except a small number of strangers, or of
+Russians acquainted with the ways of the French and not fearing their
+presence. This news vexed the leaders of our vanguard, who were
+flattering themselves that they would see a whole population coming
+before them, whom they would take pleasure in comforting and filling
+with surprize and gratitude. They made haste to restore some order to
+the different quarters of the town, and to pursue the thieves, who
+thought they should much longer enjoy the prey that the Count of
+Rostopchin had given up to them.
+
+[Footnote 53: The Kremlin is a fortified enclosure within the city and
+containing the imperial palace, three cathedrals, a monastery, convent
+and arsenal. It is surrounded by battlemented walls that date from
+1492. Within the palace are rooms of great size, one of them being 68
+by 200 feet, with a height of more than 60 feet. Many historic events
+in the times of Ivan the Terrible, and Peter the Great, are associated
+with the Kremlin. Among its treasures are the Great Bell, coronation
+robes and the thrones of the old Persian Shah and toe last emperor of
+Constantinople.]
+
+The next morning, September 15, Napoleon made his entry into Moscow,
+at the head of his invincible legions, but he crossed a deserted town,
+and for the first time his soldiers, on entering a capital, found none
+but themselves to be witnesses of their glory. The impression that
+they experienced was sad. Napoleon, arrived at the Kremlin, hastened
+to mount the high tower of the great Ivan, and to contemplate from
+that height his magnificent conquest, across which the Moskowa was
+slowly pursuing its winding course. Thousands of blackbirds, ravens
+and crows, as numerous here as the pigeons at Venice, flying around
+the tops of the palaces and churches, gave a singular aspect to this
+great city, which contrasted strangely with the brightness of its
+brilliant colors. A mournful silence, disturbed only by the tramp of
+cavalry, had taken the place of life in this city, which till the
+evening before had been one of the most busy in the world. In spite of
+the sadness of this solitude, Napoleon, on finding Moscow abandoned
+like the other Russian towns, thought himself happy nevertheless in
+not finding it burned up, and did not despair of softening little by
+little the hatred which the presence of his flags had inspired since
+Vitebsk.
+
+The army hoped, then, to enjoy Moscow, to find peace there, and, in
+any case, good winter cantonments if the war was prolonged. However,
+on the morrow after the day on which the entry had been made, columns
+of flame arose from a very large building which contained the spirits
+that the government sold on its own account to the people of the
+capital. People ran there, without astonishment or terror, for they
+attributed the cause of this partial fire to the nature of the
+materials contained in this building, or to some imprudence committed
+by our soldiers. In fact, the fire was mastered, and we had time to
+reassure ourselves.
+
+But all at once the fire burst out at almost the same instant with
+extreme violence in a collection of buildings that was called the
+Bazaar. This bazaar, situated to the northeast of the Kremlin
+comprized the richest shops, those in which were sold the beautiful
+stuffs of India and Persia, the rarities of Europe, the colonial
+commodities, sugar, coffee, tea, and, lastly, precious wines. In a few
+minutes the fire had spread through the bazaar, and the soldiers of
+the guard ran in crowds and made the greatest efforts to arrest its
+progress. Unhappily, they could not succeed, and soon the immense
+riches of this establishment fell a prey to the flames. Eager to
+dispute with the fire the possession of these riches, belonging to no
+one at this time, and to secure them for themselves, our soldiers, not
+having been able to save them, tried to drag out some fragments.
+
+They might be seen coming out of the bazaar, carrying furs, silks,
+wines of great value, without any one dreaming of reproaching them for
+so doing, for they wronged no one but the fire, the sole master of
+these treasures. One might regret it on the score of discipline, but
+could not cast a reproach on their honor on that account. Besides,
+those who remained of the people set them an example, and took their
+large share of these spoils of the commerce of Moscow. Yet it was only
+one large building--an extremely rich one, it is true--that was
+attacked by the fire, and there was no fear for the town itself. These
+first disasters, of little consequence so far, were attributed to a
+very natural and very ordinary accident, which might be more easily
+explained still, in the bustle of evacuating the town.
+
+During the night of the 15th of September the scene suddenly changed.
+As if every misfortune was to fall at once on the old Muscovite
+capital, the equinoctial wind arose all at once with the double
+violence natural to the season and to level countries where nothing
+stops the storm. This wind, blowing at first from the east, carried
+the fire westward, along the streets situated between the roads from
+Tver and Smolensk, and which are known as the richest and most
+beautiful in Moscow, those of Tverskaia, Nikitskaia, and Povorskaia.
+In a few hours the fire, having spread fiercely among the wooden
+buildings, communicated itself from one to another with frightful
+rapidity. Shooting forth in long tongues of flame, it was seen
+invading other quarters situated to the west.
+
+Rockets were noticed in the air, and soon wretches were seized
+carrying combustibles at the end of long poles. They were taken up;
+they were questioned with threats of death, and they revealed the
+frightful secret, the order given by the Count of Rostopchin to set
+fire to the city of Moscow, as if it had been the smallest village on
+the road from Smolensk. This news spread consternation through the
+army in an instant. To doubt was no longer possible, after the arrests
+made, and the depositions collected from different parts of the town.
+Napoleon ordered that in each quarter the corps fixt there should form
+military commissions to try, shoot, and hang on gibbets the
+incendiaries taken in the act. He ordered likewise that they should
+employ all the troops there were in the town to extinguish the fire.
+They ran to the pumps, but there were none to be found. This last
+circumstance would have left no doubt, if there had remained any, of
+the frightful design that delivered Moscow to the flames....
+
+Napoleon, followed by some of his lieutenants, went out of that
+Kremlin which the Russian army had not been able to prevent him from
+entering, but from which the fire expelled him after four-and-twenty
+hours of possession, descended to the quay of Moskowa, found his
+horses ready there, and had much difficulty in crossing the town,
+which toward the northwest, whither he directed his course, was
+already in flames. The wind, which constantly increased in violence,
+sometimes caused columns of fire to bend to the ground, and drove
+before it torrents of sparks, smoke, and stifling cinders. The
+horrible appearance of the sky answered to the no less horrible
+spectacle of the earth. The terrified army went out of Moscow. The
+divisions of Prince Eugene and Marshal Ney, which had entered the
+evening before, turned back again on the roads of Zwenigorod and Saint
+Petersburg; those of Marshal Davoust returned by the road of Smolensk,
+and, except the guard left around the Kremlin to dispute its
+possession with the flames, our troops retired in haste, struck with
+horror, before this fire, which, after darting up toward the sky,
+seemed to bend down again over them as if it wished to devour them. A
+small number of the inhabitants who had remained in Moscow, and had
+hidden at first in their houses without daring to come out, now
+escaped from them, carrying away what was most dear to them--women
+their children, men their infirm parents.
+
+
+
+
+HONORE DE BALZAC
+
+ Born in France in 1799, died in 1850; educated at Tours and
+ Paris; became a lawyer's clerk; wrote short stories and
+ novels anonymously and became seriously involved in a
+ publishing venture; his first novel of merit, "Le Dernier
+ Chonan ou la Bretagne," published in 1829, "Eugenie Grandet"
+ in 1833, "Pere Goriot" in 1835, "Cesar Birotteau" in 1838;
+ married in 1850 Madame Hanska of a noble Polish family.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE DEATH OF PERE GORIOT[54]
+
+
+There was something awful and appalling in the sudden apparition of
+the Countess. She saw the bed of death by the dim light of the single
+candle, and her tears flowed at the sight of her father's passive
+features, from which the life has almost ebbed. Bianchon with
+thoughtful tact left the room.
+
+[Footnote 54: From the concluding chapter of "Old Goriot," as
+translated by Ellen Marriage.]
+
+"I could not escape soon enough," she said to Rastignac.
+
+The student bowed sadly in reply. Mme. de Restaud took her father's
+hand and kissed it.
+
+"Forgive me, father! You used to say that my voice would call you back
+from the grave; ah! come back for one moment to bless your penitent
+daughter. Do you hear me? Oh! this is fearful! No one on earth will
+ever bless me henceforth; every one hates me; no one loves me but you
+in all the world. My own children will hate me. Take me with you,
+father; I will love you, I will take care of you. He does not hear
+me--I am mad--"
+
+She fell on her knees, and gazed wildly at the human wreck before her.
+
+"My cup of misery is full," she said, turning her eyes upon Eugene.
+"M. de Trailles has fled, leaving enormous debts behind him, and I
+have found out that he was deceiving me. My husband will never forgive
+me, and I have left my fortune in his hands. I have lost all my
+illusions. Alas! I have forsaken the one heart that loved me (she
+pointed to her father as she spoke), and for whom? I have held his
+kindness cheap, and slighted his affection; many and many a time I
+have given him pain, ungrateful wretch that I am!"
+
+"He knew it," said Rastignac.
+
+Just then Goriot's eyelids unclosed; it was only a muscular
+contraction, but the Countess's sudden start of reviving hope was no
+less dreadful than the dying eyes.
+
+"Is it possible that he can hear me?" cried the Countess. "No," she
+answered herself, and sat down beside the bed. As Mme. De Restaud
+seemed to wish to sit by her father, Eugene went down to take a little
+food. The boarders were already assembled.
+
+"Well," remarked the painter, as he joined them, "it seems that there
+is to be a death-drama up-stairs."
+
+"Charles, I think you might find something less painful to joke
+about," said Eugene.
+
+"So we may not laugh here?" returned the painter. "What harm does it
+do? Bianchon said that the old man was quite insensible."
+
+"Well, then," said the employe from the Museum, "he will die as he has
+lived."
+
+"My father is dead!" shrieked the Countess.
+
+The terrible cry brought Sylvie, Rastignac, and Bianchon; Mme. de
+Restaud had fainted away, When she recovered they carried her
+down-stairs, and put her into the cab that stood waiting at the door.
+Eugene sent Therese with her, and bade the maid take the Countess to
+Mme. de Nucingen.
+
+Bianchon came down to them.
+
+"Yes, he is dead," he said.
+
+"Come, sit down to dinner, gentlemen," said Mme. Vauquer, "or the soup
+will be cold."
+
+The two students sat down together.
+
+"What is the next thing to be done?" Eugene asked of Bianchon.
+
+"I have closed his eyes and composed his limbs," said Bianchon. "When
+the certificate has been officially registered at the Mayor's office,
+we will sew him in his winding-sheet and bury him somewhere. What do
+you think we ought to do?"
+
+"He will not smell at his bread like this any more," said the painter,
+mimicking the old man's little trick.
+
+"Oh, hang it all!" cried the tutor, "let old Goriot drop, and let us
+have something else for a change. He is a standing dish, and we have
+had him with every sauce this hour or more. It is one of the
+privileges of the good city of Paris that anybody may be born, or
+live, or die there without attracting any attention whatsoever. Let
+us profit by the advantages of civilization. There are fifty or sixty
+deaths every day; if you have a mind to do it, you can sit down at any
+time and wail over whole hecatombs of dead in Paris. Old Goriot has
+gone off the hooks, has he? So much the better for him. If you
+venerate his memory, keep it to yourselves, and let the rest of us
+feed in peace."
+
+"Oh, to be sure," said the widow, "it is all the better for him that
+he is dead. It looks as tho he had had trouble enough, poor soul,
+while he was alive."
+
+And this was all the funeral oration delivered over him who had been
+for Eugene the type and embodiment of fatherhood.
+
+When the hearse came, Eugene had the coffin carried into the house
+again, unscrewed the lid, and reverently laid on the old man's breast
+the token that recalled the days when Delphine and Anastasie were
+innocent little maidens, before they began "to think for themselves,"
+as he had moaned out in his agony.
+
+Rastignac and Christophe and the two undertaker's men were the only
+followers of the funeral. The Church of Saint-Etienne du Mont was only
+a little distance from the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve. When the coffin
+had been deposited in a low, dark, little chapel, the law student
+looked around in vain for Goriot's two daughters or their husbands.
+Christophe was his only fellow mourner: Christophe, who appeared to
+think it was his duty to attend the funeral of the man who had put him
+in the way of such handsome tips. As they waited there in the chapel
+for the two priests, the chorister, and the beadle, Rastignac grasped
+Christophe's hand. He could not utter a word just then.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Eugene," said Christophe, "he was a good and worthy man
+who never said one word louder than another; he never did any one any
+harm, and gave nobody any trouble."
+
+The two priests, the chorister, and the beadle came, and said and did
+as much as could be expected for seventy francs in an age when
+religion can not afford to say prayers for nothing.
+
+The ecclesiastics chanted a psalm, the _Libera nos_ and the _De
+profundis_. The whole service lasted about twenty minutes. There was
+but one mourning coach, which the priest and chorister agreed to share
+with Eugene and Christophe.
+
+"There is no one else to follow us," remarked the priest, "so we may
+as well go quickly, and so save time; it is half-past five."
+
+But just as the coffin was put in the hearse, two empty carriages,
+with the armorial bearings of the Comte de Restaud and the Baron de
+Nucingen, arrived and followed in the procession to Pere-Lachaise. At
+six o'clock Goriot's coffin was lowered into the grave, his daughters'
+servants standing round the while. The ecclesiastic recited the short
+prayer that the students could afford to pay for, and then both priest
+and lackeys disappeared at once. The two grave-diggers flung in
+several spadefuls of earth, and then stopt and asked Rastignac for
+their fee. Eugene felt in vain in his pocket, and was obliged to
+borrow five francs of Christophe.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+BIROTTEAU'S EARLY MARRIED LIFE[55]
+
+
+"You will have a good husband, my little girl," said M, Pillerault.
+"He has a warm heart and sentiments of honor. He is as straight as a
+line, and as good as the child Jesus; he is a king of men, in short."
+
+[Footnote 55: From "The Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau," as
+translated by Ellen Marriage.]
+
+Constance put away once and for all the dreams of a brilliant future,
+which, like most shop-girls, she had sometimes indulged. She meant to be a
+faithful wife and a good mother, and took up this life in accordance with
+the religious program of the middle classes. After all, her new ideas were
+much better than the dangerous vanities tempting to a youthful Parisian
+imagination. Constance's intelligence was a narrow one; she was the typical
+small tradesman's wife, who always grumbles a little over her work, who
+refuses a thing at the outset, and is vexed when she is taken at her word;
+whose restless activity takes all things, from cash-box to kitchen, as its
+province, and supervises everything, from the weightiest business
+transaction down to almost invisible darns in the household linen. Such a
+woman scolds while she loves, and can only conceive ideas of the very
+simplest; only the small change, as it were; of thought passes current with
+her; she argues about everything, lives in chronic fear of the unknown,
+makes constant forecasts, and is always thinking of the future. Her
+statuesque yet girlish beauty, her engaging looks, her freshness, prevented
+Cesar from thinking of her shortcomings; and moreover, she made up for them
+by a woman's sensitive conscientiousness, an excessive thrift, by her
+fanatical love of work, and genius as a saleswoman.
+
+Constance was just eighteen years old, and the possessor of eleven
+thousand francs. Cesar, in whom love had developed the most unbounded
+ambition, bought the perfumery business, and transplanted the Queen of
+Roses to a handsome shop near the Place Vendome. He was only
+twenty-one years of age, married to a beautiful and adored wife, and
+almost the owner of his establishment, for he had paid three-fourths
+of the amount. He saw (how should he have seen otherwise?) the future
+in fair colors, which seemed fairer still as he measured his career
+from its starting-point.
+
+Roguin (Ragon's notary) drew up the marriage-contract, and gave sage
+counsels to the young perfumer; he it was who interfered when the
+latter was about to complete the purchase of the business with the
+wife's money. "Just keep the money by you, my boy; ready money is
+sometimes a handy thing in a business," he had said....
+
+During the first year Cesar instructed his wife in all the ins and
+outs of the perfumery business, which she was admirably quick to
+grasp; she might have been brought into the world for that sole
+purpose, so well did she adapt herself to her customers. The result of
+the stock-taking at the end of the year alarmed the ambitious
+perfumer. After deducting all expenses, he might perhaps hope, in
+twenty years' time, to make the modest sum of a hundred thousand
+francs, the price of his felicity. He determined then and there to
+find some speedier road to fortune, and by way of a beginning, to be a
+manufacturer as well as a retailer.
+
+Acting against his wife's counsel, he took the lease of a shed on some
+building land in the Faubourg du Temple, and painted up thereon, in
+huge letters, CESAR BIROTTEAU'S FACTORY. He enticed a workman from
+Grasse, and with him began to manufacture several kinds of soap,
+essences, and eau-de-cologne, on the system of half profits. The
+partnership only lasted six months, and ended in a loss, which he had
+to sustain alone; but Birotteau did not lose heart. He meant to obtain
+a result at any price, if it were only to escape a scolding from his
+wife; and, indeed, he confest to her afterward that, in those days of
+despair, his head used to boil like a pot on the fire, and that many a
+time but for his religious principles he would have thrown himself
+into the Seine.
+
+One day, deprest by several unsuccessful experiments, he was
+sauntering home to dinner along the boulevards (the lounger in Paris
+is a man in despair quite as often as a genuine idler), when a book
+among a hamperful at six sous apiece caught his attention; his eyes
+were attracted by the yellow dusty title-page, Abdeker, so it ran, or
+the Art of Preserving Beauty.
+
+Birotteau took up the work. It claimed to be a translation from the
+Arabic, but in reality it was a sort of romance written by a
+physician in the previous century. Cesar happened to stumble upon a
+passage there which treated of perfumes, and with his back against a
+tree in the boulevard, he turned the pages over till he reached a
+foot-note, wherein the learned author discoursed of the nature of the
+dermis and epidermis. The writer showed conclusively that such and
+such an unguent or soap often produced an effect exactly opposite to
+that intended, and the ointment, or the soap, acted as a tonic upon a
+skin that required a lenitive treatment, or vice versa.
+
+Birotteau saw a fortune in the book, and bought it. Yet, feeling
+little confidence in his unaided lights, he went to Vauquelin, the
+celebrated chemist, and in all simplicity asked him how to compose a
+double cosmetic which should produce the required effect upon the
+human epidermis in either case. The really learned--men so truly great
+in this sense that they can never receive in their lifetime all the
+fame that should reward vast labors like theirs--are almost always
+helpful and kindly to the poor in intellect. So it was with Vauquelin.
+He came to the assistance of the perfumer, gave him a formula for a
+paste to whiten the hands, and allowed him to style himself its
+inventor. It was this cosmetic that Birotteau called the Superfine
+Pate des Sultanes. The more thoroughly to accomplish his purpose, he
+used the recipe for the paste for a wash for the complexion, which he
+called the Carminative Toilet Lotion....
+
+Cesar Birotteau might be a Royalist, but public opinion at that time
+was in his favor; and tho he had scarcely a hundred thousand francs
+beside his business, was looked upon as a very wealthy man. His
+steady-going ways, his punctuality, his habit of paying ready money
+for everything, of never discounting bills, while he would take paper
+to oblige a customer of whom he was sure--all these things, together
+with his readiness to oblige, had brought him a great reputation. And
+not only so; he had really made a good deal of money, but the building
+of his factories had absorbed most of it, and he paid nearly twenty
+thousand francs a year in rent. The education of their only daughter,
+whom Constance and Cesar both idolized, had been a heavy expense.
+Neither the husband nor the wife thought of money where Cesarine's
+pleasure was concerned, and they had never brought themselves to part
+with her.
+
+Imagine the delight of the poor peasant parvenu when he heard his
+charming Cesarine play a sonata by Steibelt or sing a ballad; when he
+saw her writing French correctly, or making sepia drawings of
+landscapes, or listened while she read aloud from the Racines, father
+and son, and explained the beauties of the poetry. What happiness it
+was for him to live again in this fair, innocent flower, not yet
+plucked from the parent stem; this angel, over whose growing graces
+and earliest development they had watched with such passionate
+tenderness; this only child, incapable of despising her father or of
+laughing at his want of education, so much was she his little
+daughter.
+
+When Cesar came to Paris, he had known how to read, write, and cipher,
+and at that point his education had been arrested. There had been no
+opportunity in his hard-working life of acquiring new ideas and
+information beyond the perfumery trade. He had spent his time among
+folk to whom science and literature were matters of indifference, and
+whose knowledge was of a limited and special kind; he himself, having
+no time to spare for loftier studies, became perforce a practical man.
+He adopted (how should he have done otherwise?) the language, errors,
+and opinions of the Parisian tradesman who admires Moliere, Voltaire,
+and Rousseau on hearsay, and buys their works, but never opens them;
+who will have it that the proper way to pronounce "armoire" is
+"ormoire"; "or" means gold, and "moire" means silk, and women's
+dresses used almost always to be made of silk, and in their cupboards
+they locked up silk and gold--therefore, "ormoire" is right and
+"armoire" is an innovation. Potier, Talma, Mlle. Mars, and other
+actors and actresses were millionaires ten times over, and did not
+live like ordinary mortals: the great tragedian lived on raw meat, and
+Mlle. Mars would have a fricassee of pearls now and then--an idea she
+had taken from some celebrated Egyptian actress. As to the Emperor,
+his waistcoat pockets were lined with leather, so that he could take a
+handful of snuff at a time; he used to ride at full gallop up the
+staircase of the orangery at Versailles. Authors and artists ended in
+the workhouse, the natural close to their eccentric careers; they
+were, every one of them, atheists into the bargain, so that you had to
+be very careful not to admit anybody of that sort into your house,
+Joseph Lebas used to advert with horror to the story of his
+sister-in-law Augustine, who married the artist Sommervieux.
+Astronomers lived on spiders. These bright examples of the attitude of
+the bourgeois mind toward philology, the drama, politics, and science
+will throw light upon its breadth of view and powers of
+comprehension....
+
+Cesar's wife, who had learned to know her husband's character during
+the early years of their marriage, led a life of perpetual terror; she
+represented sound sense and foresight in the partnership; she was
+doubt, opposition, and fear, while Cesar represented boldness,
+ambition, activity, the element of chance and undreamed-of good luck.
+In spite of appearances, the merchant was the weaker vessel, and it
+was the wife who really had the patience and courage. So it had come
+to pass that a timid mediocrity, without education, knowledge, or
+strength of character, a being who could in nowise have succeeded in
+the world's most slippery places, was taken for a remarkable man, a
+man of spirit and resolution, thanks to his instinctive uprightness
+and sense of justice, to the goodness of a truly Christian soul, and
+love for the one woman who had been his.
+
+
+
+
+ALFRED DE VIGNY
+
+ Born in 1799, died in 1863; entered the army in 1815,
+ becoming a captain in 1823; published a volume of verse in
+ 1822; "Cinq-Mars," his famous historical novel, published in
+ 1826; made translations from Shakespeare and wrote original
+ historical dramas; admitted to the French Academy in 1845.
+
+
+
+
+RICHELIEU'S WAY WITH HIS MASTER[56]
+
+
+The latter [Cardinal de Richelieu], attired in all the pomp of a
+cardinal, leaning upon two young pages, and followed by his captain of
+the guards and more than five hundred gentlemen attached to his house,
+advanced toward the King slowly and stopping at each step, as if
+forcibly arrested by his sufferings, but in reality to observe the
+faces before him. A glance sufficed.
+
+[Footnote 56: From "Cinq-Mars; or the Conspiracy Under Louis XIII."
+Translated by William C. Hazlitt. The Marquis de Cinq-Mars was a
+favorite of Louis XIII, grand-master of the wardrobe and the horse,
+and aspired to a seat in the royal council and to the hand of Maria de
+Gonzaga, Princess of Mantua. Having been refused by Richelieu a place
+in the council, he formed a conspiracy against the cardinal and
+entered into a treasonable correspondence with Spain. The conspiracy
+being discovered, he was beheaded at Lyons in 1642. Bulwer's popular
+play "Richelieu," tho founded on this episode, diverges radically in
+several details.]
+
+His suite remained at the entrance of the royal tent; of all those
+within it not one was bold enough to salute him, or to look toward
+him. Even La Vallette feigned to be deeply occupied in a conversation
+with Montresor; and the King, who desired to give him an unfavorable
+reception, greeted him lightly and continued a conversation aside in a
+low voice with the Duc de Beaufort.
+
+The cardinal was therefore forced, after the first salute, to stop and
+pass to the side of the crowd of courtiers, as tho he wished to mix
+with them, but in reality to test them more closely; they all recoiled
+as at the sight of a leper. Fabert alone advanced toward him with the
+frank and blunt air habitual with him, and making use of the terms
+belonging to his profession, said:
+
+"Well, my Lord, you make a breach in the midst of them like a
+cannon-ball; I ask pardon in their name."
+
+"And you stand firm before me as before the enemy," said the cardinal;
+"you will have no cause to regret it in the end, my dear Fabert."
+
+Mazarin also approached the cardinal, but with caution, and giving to
+his flexible features an expression of profound sadness, made him five
+or six very low bows, turning his back to the group gathered round the
+King, so that in the latter quarter they might be taken for those cold
+and hasty salutations which are made to a person one desires to be rid
+of, and, on the part of the Duc, for tokens of respect blended with a
+discreet and silent sorrow.
+
+The minister, ever calm, smiled in disdain; and assuming that firm
+look and that air of grandeur which he wore so perfectly in the hour
+of danger, he again leaned upon his pages, and without waiting for a
+word or glance from his sovereign, he suddenly resolved upon his line
+of conduct, and walked directly toward him, traversing the whole
+length of the tent. No one had lost sight of him, altho affecting not
+to observe him. Every one now became silent, even those who were
+talking to the King; all the courtiers bent forward to see and to
+hear.
+
+Louis XIII turned round in astonishment, and all presence of mind
+totally failing him, remained motionless, and waited with an icy
+glance--his sole force, but a _vis inertiae_ very effectual in a
+prince.
+
+The cardinal, on coming close to the prince, did not bow; and without
+changing his position, his eyes lowered and his hands placed on the
+shoulders of the two boys half-bending, he said:
+
+"Sire, I come to implore your Majesty at length to grant me the
+retirement for which I have long sighed. My health is failing; I feel
+that my life will soon be ended. Eternity approaches me, and before
+rendering an account to the eternal King, I would render one to my
+temporal sovereign. It is eighteen years, Sire, since you placed in my
+hands a weak and divided kingdom; I return it to you united and
+powerful. Your enemies are overthrown and humiliated. My work is
+accomplished. I ask your Majesty's permission to retire to Citeaux, of
+which I am abbot, and where I may end my days in prayer and
+meditation."
+
+The King, irritated with some haughty expressions in this address,
+showed none of the signs of weakness which the cardinal had expected,
+and which he had always seen in him when he had threatened to resign
+the management of affairs. On the contrary, feeling that he had the
+eyes of the whole court upon him, Louis looked upon him with the air
+of a king, and coldly replied:
+
+"We thank you, then, for your services, M. le Cardinal, and wish you
+the repose you desire."
+
+Richelieu was deeply angered, but no indication of his rage appeared
+upon his countenance. "Such was the coldness with which you left
+Montmorency to die," he said to himself; "but you shall not escape me
+thus." He then continued aloud, bowing at the same time:
+
+"The only recompense I ask for my services is that your Majesty will
+deign to accept from me, as a gift, the Palais-Cardinal I have already
+erected at my own cost in Paris."
+
+The King, astonished, bowed in token of assent. A murmur of surprize
+for a moment agitated the attentive court.
+
+"I also petition your Majesty to grant me the revocation of an act of
+rigor, which I solicited (I publicly confess it), and which I perhaps
+regarded as too beneficial to the repose of the state. Yes, when I was
+of this world, I was too forgetful of my old sentiments of personal
+respect and attachment, in my eagerness for the public welfare; now
+that I already enjoy the enlightenment of solitude, I see that I have
+been wrong, and I repent."
+
+The attention of the spectators was redoubled, and the uneasiness of
+the King became visible.
+
+"Yes, there is one person, Sire, whom I have always loved, despite her
+wrongs toward you, and the banishment which the affairs of the kingdom
+forced me to procure for her; a person to whom I have owed much, and
+who should be very dear to you, notwithstanding her armed attempts
+against you; a person, in a word, whom I implore you to recall from
+exile--the Queen Marie de Medicis, your mother."
+
+The King sent forth an involuntary exclamation, so far was he from
+expecting to hear that name. A represt agitation suddenly appeared
+upon every face. All awaited in silence the King's reply. Louis XIII
+looked for a long time at his old minister without speaking, and this
+look decided the fate of France; in that instant he called to mind all
+the indefatigable services of Richelieu, his unbounded devotion, his
+wonderful capacity, and was surprized at himself for having wished to
+part with him. He felt deeply affected at this request, which hunted
+out, as it were, the exact cause of his anger at the bottom of his
+heart, rooted it up, and took from his hands the only weapon he had
+against his old servant; filial love brought the words of pardon to
+his lips and tears into his eyes. Delighted to grant what he desired
+most of all things in the world, he extended his hand to the Duc with
+all the nobleness and kindliness of a Bourbon. The cardinal bowed, and
+respectfully kissed it; and his heart, which should have burst with
+remorse, only swelled in the joy of a haughty triumph.
+
+The prince, much moved, abandoning his hand to him, turned gracefully
+toward his court and said with a tremulous voice:
+
+"We often deceive ourselves, gentlemen, and especially in our
+knowledge of so great a politician as this; I hope he will never leave
+us, since his heart is as good as his head."
+
+Cardinal de la Vallette on the instant seized the arm of the King's
+mantle, and kissed it with all the ardor of a lover, and the young
+Mazarin did much the same with Richelieu himself, assuming with
+admirable Italian suppleness an expression radiant with joyful
+emotion. Two streams of flatterers hastened, one toward the King, the
+other toward the minister; the former group, not less adroit than the
+second, altho less direct, addrest to the prince thanks which could be
+heard by the minister, and burned at the feet of the one incense which
+was destined for the other. As for Richelieu, bestowing a bow on the
+right and a smile on the left, he stept forward, and stood on the
+right hand of the King, as his natural place.
+
+
+
+
+VICTOR HUGO
+
+ Born in 1802, died in 1885; his childhood spent partly in
+ Corsica, Italy and Spain, his father an officer in
+ Napoleon's army; educated at home by a priest and at a
+ school in Paris; published in 1816 his first tragedy,
+ "Irtameme," followed by other plays and poems; his most
+ notable work down to 1859 being "La Legende"; his writings
+ extremely numerous, other titles being "L'Art d'etre
+ Grand-Pere" 1877, "Notre Dame de Paris" 1831, "Napoleon le
+ Petit" 1852, "Les Miserables" 1862, "Les Travailleurs de la
+ Mer" 1866, "L'Homme Qui Rit" 1869, "Quatrevingt-treize"
+ 1874, "History of a Crime" 1877; elected to the French
+ Academy in 1841; exiled from France in 1851, living first in
+ Belgium, then in Jersey and Guernsey; returned to France
+ after the fall of the Empire in 1870; elected a life member
+ of the Senate in 1876.
+
+
+
+
+THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO[57]
+
+
+The battle of Waterloo is an enigma as obscure for those who gained it
+as for him who lost it. To Napoleon it is a panic; Blucher sees
+nothing in it but fire; Wellington does not understand it at all. Look
+at the reports: the bulletins are confused; the commentaries are
+entangled; the latter stammer, the former stutter. Jomini divides the
+battle of Waterloo into four moments; Muffling cuts it into three
+acts; Charras, altho we do not entirely agree with him in all his
+appreciations, has alone caught with his haughty eye the
+characteristic lineaments of this catastrophe of human genius
+contending with divine chance. All the other historians suffer from a
+certain bedazzlement in which they grope about. It was a flashing day,
+in truth the overthrow of the military monarchy which, to the great
+stupor of the kings, has dragged down all kingdoms, the downfall of
+strength and the rout of war.
+
+[Footnote 57: Chapter XV of "Cosette," in "Les Miserables."
+Translation of Lascelles Wraxall.]
+
+In this event, which bears the stamp of superhuman necessity, men play
+but a small part; but if we take Waterloo from Wellington and Blucher,
+does that deprive England and Germany of anything? No. Neither
+illustrious England nor august Germany is in question in the problem
+of Waterloo, for, thank heaven! nations are great without the mournful
+achievements of the sword. Neither Germany, nor England, nor France is
+held in a scabbard; at this day when Waterloo is only a clash of
+sabers, Germany has Goethe above Blucher, and England Byron above
+Wellington. A mighty dawn of ideas is peculiar to our age; and in this
+dawn England and Germany have their own magnificent flash. They are
+majestic because they think; the high level they bring to civilization
+is intrinsic to them; it comes from themselves, and not from an
+accident. Any aggrandizement the nineteenth century may have can not
+boast of Waterloo as its fountainhead; for only barbarous nations grow
+suddenly after a victory--it is the transient vanity of torrents
+swollen by a storm. Civilized nations, especially at the present day,
+are not elevated or debased by the good or evil fortune of a captain,
+and their specific weight in the human family results from something
+more than a battle. Their honor, dignity, enlightenment, and genius
+are not numbers which those gamblers, heroes, and conquerors can stake
+in the lottery of battles. Very often a battle lost is progress
+gained, and less of glory, more of liberty. The drummer is silent and
+reason speaks; it is the game of who loses wins. Let us, then, speak
+of Waterloo coldly from both sides, and render to chance the things
+that belong to chance, and to God what is God's. What is Waterloo--a
+victory? No; a quine in the lottery, won by Europe, and paid by
+France; it was hardly worth while erecting a lion for it.
+
+Waterloo, by the way, is the strangest encounter recorded in history;
+Napoleon and Wellington are not enemies, but contraries. Never did
+God, who delights in antitheses, produce a more striking contrast, or
+a more extraordinary confrontation. On one side precision, foresight,
+geometry, prudence, a retreat assured, reserves prepared, an obstinate
+coolness, an imperturbable method, strategy profiting by the ground,
+tactics balancing battalions, carnage measured by a plumb-line, war
+regulated watch in hand, nothing left voluntarily to accident, old
+classic courage and absolute correctness. On the other side we have
+intuition, divination, military strangeness, superhuman instinct, a
+flashing glance; something that gazes like the eagle and strikes like
+lightning, all the mysteries of a profound mind, association with
+destiny; the river, the plain, the forest, and the hill summoned, and,
+to some extent, compelled to obey, the despot going so far as even to
+tyrannize over the battle-field; faith in a star, blended with
+strategic science, heightening, but troubling it. Wellington was the
+Bareme of war, Napoleon was its Michelangelo, and this true genius was
+conquered by calculation. On both sides somebody was expected; and it
+was the exact calculator who succeeded. Napoleon waited for Grouchy,
+who did not come; Wellington waited for Blucher, and he came.
+
+Wellington is the classical war taking its revenge; Bonaparte, in his
+dawn, had met it in Italy, and superbly defeated it--the old owl fled
+before the young vulture. The old tactics had been not only
+overthrown, but scandalized. Who was this Corsican of six-and-twenty
+years of age? What meant this splendid ignoramus, who, having
+everything against him, nothing for him, without provisions,
+ammunition, guns, shoes, almost without an army, with a handful of men
+against masses, dashed at allied Europe, and absurdly gained
+impossible victories? Who was this new comet of war who possest the
+effrontery of a planet? The academic military school excommunicated
+him, while bolting, and hence arose an implacable rancor of the old
+Caesarism against the new, of the old saber against the flashing sword,
+and of the chessboard against genius. On June 18th, 1815, this rancor
+got the best; and beneath Lodi, Montebello, Montenotte, Mantua,
+Marengo, and Arcola, it wrote--Waterloo. It was a triumph of
+mediocrity, sweet to majorities, and destiny consented to this irony.
+In his decline, Napoleon found a young Suvarov before him--in fact, it
+is only necessary to blanch Wellington's hair in order to have a
+Suvarov. Waterloo is a battle of the first class, gained by a captain
+of the second.
+
+What must be admired in the battle of Waterloo is England, the English
+firmness, the English resolution, the English blood, and what England
+had really superb in it, is (without offense) herself; it is not her
+captain, but her army. Wellington, strangely ungrateful, declares in
+his dispatch to Lord Bathurst that his army, the one which fought on
+June 18th, 1815, was a "detestable army." What does the gloomy pile of
+bones buried in the trenches of Waterloo think of this? England has
+been too modest to herself in her treatment of Wellington, for making
+him so great is making herself small. Wellington is merely a hero,
+like any other man. The Scotch Grays, the Life Guards, Maitland and
+Mitchell's regiments, Pack and Kempt's infantry, Ponsonby and
+Somerset's cavalry, the Highlanders playing the bagpipes under the
+shower of canister, Ryland's battalions, the fresh recruits who could
+hardly manage a musket, and yet held their ground against the old
+bands of Essling and Rivoli--all this is grand. Wellington was
+tenacious; that was his merit, and we do not deny it to him, but the
+lowest of his privates and his troopers was quite as solid as he, and
+the iron soldier is as good as the iron duke. For our part, all our
+glorification is offered to the English soldier, the English army, the
+English nation; and if there must be a trophy, it is to England that
+this trophy is owing. The Waterloo column would be more just, if,
+instead of the figure of a man, it raised to the clouds the statue of
+a people.
+
+But this great England will be irritated by what we are writing here;
+for she still has feudal illusions, after her 1688 and the French
+1789. This people believes in inheritance and hierarchy, and while no
+other excels it in power and glory, it esteems itself as a nation and
+not as a people. As a people, it readily subordinates itself, and
+takes a lord as its head; the workman lets himself be despised; the
+soldier puts up with flogging, It will be remembered that, at the
+battle of Inkerman, a sergeant who, as it appears, saved the British
+army, could not be mentioned by Lord Raglan, because the military
+hierarchy does not allow any hero below the rank of officer to be
+mentioned in dispatches. What we admire before all, in an encounter
+like Waterloo, is the prodigious skill of chance. The night raid, the
+wall of Hougomont, the hollow way of Ohain, Grouchy deaf to the
+cannon, Napoleon's guide deceiving him, Bulow's guide enlightening
+him--all this cataclysm is marvelously managed.
+
+Altogether, we will assert, there is more of a massacre than of a
+battle in Waterloo. Waterloo, of all pitched battles, is the one which
+had the smallest front for such a number of combatants. Napoleon's
+three-quarters of a league. Wellington's half a league, and
+seventy-two thousand combatants on either side. From this density came
+the carnage. The following calculation has been made and proportion
+established: loss of men, at Austerlitz, French, fourteen per cent.;
+Russian, thirty per cent.; Austrian, forty-four per cent.: at Wagram,
+French, thirteen per cent.; Austrian, fourteen per cent.: at Moscow,
+French, thirty-seven per cent.; Russian, forty-four per cent.: at
+Bautzen, French, thirteen per cent.; Russian and Prussian, fourteen
+per cent.: at Waterloo, French, fifty-six per cent.; allies,
+thirty-one per cent.--total for Waterloo, forty-one per cent., or out
+of one hundred and forty-four thousand fighting men, sixty thousand
+killed.
+
+The field of Waterloo has at the present day that calmness which
+belongs to the earth, and resembles all plains; but at night, a sort
+of visionary mist rises from it, and if any traveler walk about it,
+and listen and dream, like Virgil on the mournful plain of Philippi,
+the hallucination of the catastrophe seizes upon him. The frightful
+June 18th lives again, the false monumental hill is leveled, the
+wondrous lion is dissipated, the battle-field resumes its reality,
+lines of infantry undulate on the plain; furious galloping crosses the
+horizon; the startled dreamer sees the flash of sabers, the sparkle of
+bayonets, the red light of shells, the monstrous collision of
+thunderbolts; he hears, like a death groan from the tomb, the vague
+clamor of the fantom battle. These shadows are grenadiers; these
+flashes are cuirassiers; this skeleton is Napoleon; this skeleton is
+Wellington; all this is nonexistent, and yet still combats, and the
+ravines are stained purple, and the trees rustle, and there is fury
+even in the clouds and in the darkness, while all the stern heights,
+Mont St. Jean, Hougomont, Frischemont, Papelotte, and Plancenoit, seem
+confusedly crowned by hosts of specters exterminating one another.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE BEGINNINGS AND EXPANSIONS OF PARIS[58]
+
+
+The Paris of three hundred and fifty years ago, the Paris of the
+fifteenth century, was already a gigantic city. We modern Parisians in
+general are much mistaken in regard to the ground which we imagine it
+has gained. Since the time of Louis XI Paris has not increased above
+one-third; and certes it has lost much more in beauty than it has
+acquired in magnitude.
+
+[Footnote 58: From Book III, Chapter II, of "The Hunchback of Notre
+Dame." From an anonymous, non-copyright translation published by A. L.
+Burt Company.]
+
+The infant Paris was born, as everybody knows, in that ancient island
+in the shape of a cradle, which is now called the City. The banks of
+that island were its first enclosure; the Seine was its first ditch.
+For several centuries Paris was confined to the island, having two
+bridges, the one on the north, the other on the south, the two
+_tetes-de-ponts_, which were at once its gates and its fortresses--the
+Grand Chatelet on the right bank and the Petit Chatelet on the left.
+In process of time, under the kings of the first dynasty, finding
+herself straitened in her island and unable to turn herself about, she
+crossed the water. A first enclosure of walls and towers then began to
+encroach upon either bank of the Seine beyond the two Chatelets. Of
+this ancient enclosure some vestiges were still remaining in the past
+century; nothing is now left of it but the memory and here and there
+a tradition. By degrees the flood of houses, always propelled from the
+heart to the extremities, wore away and overflowed this enclosure.
+
+Philip Augustus surrounded Paris with new ramparts. He imprisoned the
+city within a circular chain of large, lofty, and massive towers. For
+more than a century the houses, crowding closer and closer, raised
+their level in this basin, like water in a reservoir. They began to
+grow higher; story was piled upon story; they shot up like any
+comprest liquid, and each tried to lift its head above its neighbors
+in order to obtain a little fresh air. The streets became deeper and
+deeper, and narrower and narrower; every vacant place was covered and
+disappeared. The houses at length overleapt the wall of Philip
+Augustus, and merrily scattered themselves at random over the plain,
+like prisoners who had made their escape. There they sat themselves
+down at their ease and carved themselves gardens out of the fields. So
+early as 1367 the suburbs of the city had spread so far as to need a
+fresh enclosure, especially on the right bank; this was built for it
+by Charles V. But a place like Paris is perpetually increasing. It is
+such cities alone that become capitals of countries. They are
+reservoirs into which all the geographical, political, moral, and
+intellectual channels of a country, all the natural inclined planes of
+its population discharge themselves; wells of civilization, if we may
+be allowed the expression, and drains also, where all that constitutes
+the sap, the life, the soul of the nation, is incessantly collecting
+and filtering, drop by drop, age by age.
+
+The enclosure of Charles V consequently shared the same fate as that
+of Philip Augustus. So early as the conclusion of the fifteenth
+century it was overtaken, passed, and the suburbs kept traveling
+onward. In the sixteenth it seemed very visibly receding more and more
+into the ancient city, so rapidly did the new town thicken on the
+other side of it. Thus, so far back as the fifteenth century, to come
+down no further, Paris had already worn out the three concentric
+circles of walls which, from the time of Julian the Apostate, lay in
+embryo, if I may be allowed the expression, in the Grand and Petit
+Chatelets. The mighty city had successively burst its four mural
+belts, like a growing boy bursting the garments made for him a year
+ago. Under Louis XI there were still to be seen ruined towers of the
+ancient enclosures, rising at intervals above the sea of houses, like
+the tops of hills from amid an inundation, like the archipelagos of
+old Paris submerged beneath the new....
+
+Each of these great divisions of Paris was, as we have observed, a
+city, but a city too special to be complete, a city which could not do
+without the two others. Thus they had three totally different aspects.
+The City, properly so called, abounded in churches; the Ville
+contained the palaces; and the University, the colleges. Setting aside
+secondary jurisdictions, we may assume generally that the island was
+under the bishop, the right bank under the provost of the merchants,
+the left under the rector of the University, and the whole under the
+provost of Paris, a royal and not a municipal officer. The City had
+the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Ville the Louvre and the Hotel de
+Ville, and the University the Sorbonne. The Ville contained the
+Halles, the City the Hotel Dieu, and the University the Pre aux
+Clercs. For offenses committed by the students on the left bank, in
+their Pre aux Clercs, they were tried at the Palace of Justice in the
+island, and punished on the right bank at Montfaucon, unless the
+rector, finding the University strong and the king weak, chose to
+interfere; for it was a privilege of the scholars to be hung in their
+own quarter.
+
+Most of these privileges, be it remarked by the way, and some of them
+were more valuable than that just mentioned, had been extorted from
+different sovereigns by riots and insurrections. This is the
+invariable course--the king never grants any boon but what is wrung
+from him by the people.
+
+In the fifteenth century that part of the Seine comprehended within
+the enclosure of Paris contained five islands: the Ile Louviers, then
+covered with trees and now with timber, the Ile aux Vaches, and the
+Ile Notre Dame, both uninhabited and belonging to the bishop [in the
+seventeenth century these two islands were converted into one, which
+has been built upon and is now called the Isle of St. Louis]; lastly
+the City, and at its point the islet of the Passeur aux Vaches, since
+buried under the platform of the Pont Neuf. The City had at that time
+five bridges: three on the right--the bridge of Notre Dame and the
+Pont au Change of stone, and the Pont aux Meuniers of wood; two on the
+left--the Petit Pont of stone, and the Pont St. Michel of wood; all of
+them covered with houses. The university had six gates, built by
+Philip Augustus; these were, setting out from the Tournelle, the Gate
+of St. Victor, the Gate of Bordelle, the Papal Gate, and the gates of
+St. Jacques, St. Michel, and St. Germain. The Ville had six gates,
+built by Charles V, that is to say, beginning from the Tower of Billy,
+the gates of St. Antoine, the Temple, St. Martin, St. Denis,
+Montmartre, and St. Honore. All these gates were strong, and handsome,
+too, a circumstance which does not detract from strength. A wide, deep
+ditch, supplied by the Seine with water, which was swollen by the
+floods of winter to a running stream, encircled the foot of the wall
+all round Paris. At night the gates were closed, the river was barred
+at the two extremities of the city by stout iron chains, and Paris
+slept in quiet.
+
+A bird's-eye view of these three towns, the City, the University, and
+the Ville, exhibited to the eye an inextricable knot of streets
+strangely jumbled together. It was apparent, however, at first sight
+that these three fragments of a city formed but a single body. The
+spectator perceived immediately two long parallel streets, without
+break or interruption, crossing the three cities, nearly in a right
+line, from one end to the other, from south to north, perpendicularly
+to the Seine, incessantly pouring the people of the one into the
+other, connecting, blending them together and converting the three
+into one. The first of these streets ran from the Gate of St. Jacques
+to the Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the University the street
+of St. Jacques, in the City Rue de la Juiverie, and in the Ville, the
+street of St. Martin; it crossed the river twice by the name of Petit
+Pont and Pont Notre Dame. The second, named Rue de la Harpe on the
+left bank, Rue de la Barillerie in the island, Rue St. Denis on the
+right bank, Pont St. Michel over one arm of the Seine, and Pont au
+Change over the other, Gate of St. Martin; it was called in the
+University to the Gate of St. Denis in the Ville. Still, tho they bore
+so many different names, they formed in reality only two streets, but
+the two mother-streets, the two great arteries of Paris. All the other
+veins of the triple city were fed by or discharged themselves into
+these....
+
+What, then, was the aspect of this whole, viewed from the summit of
+the towers of Notre Dame in 1482? That is what we shall now attempt to
+describe. The spectator, on arriving breathless at that elevation, was
+dazzled by the chaos of roofs, chimneys, streets, bridges, belfries,
+towers and steeples. All burst at once upon the eye--the carved gable,
+the sharp roof, the turret perched upon the angles of the walls, the
+stone pyramids of the eleventh century, the slated obelisk of the
+fifteenth, the round and naked keep of the castle, the square and
+embroidered tower of the church, the great and the small, the massive
+and the light. The eye was long bewildered amid this labyrinth of
+heights and depths in which there was nothing but had its originality,
+its reason, its genius, its beauty, nothing, but issued from the hand
+of art, from the humblest dwelling with its painted and carved wooden
+front, elliptical doorway, and overhanging stories, to the royal
+Louvre, which then had a colonnade of towers.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDRE DUMAS
+
+ Born in 1802, died in 1870; his father a French general, his
+ grandmother a negress; at first a writer of plays; active in
+ the Revolution of 1830; wrote books of travel and short
+ stories, a great number of novels, some of them in
+ collaboration with others; "Les Trois Mousquetaires"
+ published in 1844; "Monte Cristo" in 1844-45; "Le Reine
+ Margot" in 1845; wrote also historical sketches and
+ reminiscences; his son of the same name famous also as a
+ writer of books and a playwright.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHOULDER, THE BELT, AND THE HANDKERCHIEF[59]
+
+
+Furious with rage, D'Artagnan crossed the anteroom in three strides,
+and began to descend the stairs four steps at a time, without looking
+where he was going; when suddenly he was brought up short by knocking
+violently against the shoulder of a musketeer who was leaving the
+apartments of M. De Treville. The young man staggered backward from
+the shock, uttering a cry, or rather a yell.
+
+[Footnote 59: From "The Three Musketeers."]
+
+"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan, trying to pass him, "but I am in a great
+hurry."
+
+He had hardly placed his foot on the next step, when he was stopt by
+the grasp of an iron wrist on his sash.
+
+"You are in a great hurry!" cried the musketeer, whose face was the
+color of a shroud; "and you think that is enough apology for nearly
+knocking me down? Not so fast, my young man. I suppose you imagine
+that because you heard M. De Treville speaking to us rather brusquely
+to-day, that everybody may treat us in the same way? But you are
+mistaken, and it is as well you should learn that you are not M. De
+Treville."
+
+"Upon my honor," replied D'Artagnan, recognizing Athos, who was
+returning to his room after having his wound drest, "upon my honor, it
+was an accident, and therefore I begged your pardon. I should have
+thought that was all that was necessary. I repeat that I am in a very
+great hurry, and I should be much obliged if you would let me go my
+way."
+
+"Monsieur," said Athos, loosening his hold, "you are sadly lacking in
+courtesy, and one sees that you must have had a rustic upbringing."
+
+D'Artagnan was by this time half-way down another flight; but on
+hearing Athos's remark he stopt short.
+
+"My faith, monsieur!" exclaimed he, "however rustic I may be, I shall
+not come to you to teach me manners."
+
+"I am not so sure of that," replied Athos.
+
+"Oh, if I was only not in such haste," cried D'Artagnan; "if only I
+was not pursuing somebody--"
+
+"Monsieur, you will find me without running after me. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"And where, if you please?"
+
+"Near Carmes-Deschaux."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"Twelve o'clock."
+
+"Very good. At twelve I will be there."
+
+"And don't be late, for at a quarter-past twelve I will cut off your
+ears for you."
+
+"All right," called out D'Artagnan, dashing on down-stairs after his
+man; "you may expect me at ten minutes before the hour."
+
+But he was not to escape so easily. At the street door stood Porthos,
+talking to a sentry, and between the two men there was barely space
+for a man to pass. D'Artagnan took it for granted that he could get
+through, and darted on, swift as an arrow, but he had not reckoned on
+the gale that was blowing. As he passed, a sudden gust wrapt Porthos's
+mantle tight round him; and tho the owner of the garment could easily
+have freed him had he so chosen, for reasons of his own he preferred
+to draw the folds still closer.
+
+D'Artagnan, hearing the volley of oaths let fall by the musketeers,
+feared he might have damaged the splendor of the belt, and struggled
+to unwind himself; but when he at length freed his head, he found that
+like most things in this world the belt had two sides, and while the
+front bristled with gold, the back was mere leather; which explains
+why Porthos always had a cold and could not part from his mantle.
+
+"Confound you!" cried Porthos, struggling in his turn, "have you gone
+mad, that you tumble over people like this?"
+
+"Excuse me," answered D'Artagnan, "but I am in a great hurry. I am
+pursuing some one, and--"
+
+"And I suppose that on such occasions you leave your eyes behind you?"
+asked Porthos.
+
+"No," replied D'Artagnan, rather nettled; "and thanks to my eyes, I
+often see things that other people don't."
+
+Possibly Porthos might have understood this allusion, but in any case
+he did not attempt to control his anger, and said sharply:
+
+"Monsieur, we shall have to give you a lesson if you take to tumbling
+against the musketeers like this!"
+
+"A lesson, monsieur!" replied D'Artagnan; "that is rather a severe
+expression."
+
+"It is the expression of a man who is always accustomed to look his
+enemies in the face."
+
+"Oh, if that is all, there is no fear of your turning your back on
+anybody," and enchanted at his own wit, the young man walked away in
+fits of laughter.
+
+Porthos foamed with rage, and rushed after D'Artagnan.
+
+"By and by, by and by," cried the latter; "when you have not got your
+mantle on."
+
+"At one o'clock then, behind the Luxembourg."
+
+"All right; at one o'clock," replied D'Artagnan as he vanished around
+the corner....
+
+Moreover, he had gotten himself into two fierce duels with two men,
+each able to kill three D'Artagnans; in a word, with two
+musketeers--beings he set so high that he placed them above all other
+men.
+
+It was a sad lookout. To be sure, as the youth was certain to be
+killed by Athos, he was not much disturbed about Porthos. As hope is
+the last thing to die in a man's heart, however, he ended by hoping
+that he might come out alive from both duels, even if dreadfully
+injured; and on that supposition he scored himself in this way for
+his conduct:
+
+"What a rattle-headed dunce I am! Thai brave and unfortunate Athos was
+wounded right on that shoulder I ran against head foremost, like a
+ram. The only thing that surprizes me is that he didn't strike me dead
+on the spot; he had provocation enough, for I must have hurt him
+savagely. As to Porthos--oh! as to Porthos--that's a funny affair!"
+
+And the youth began to laugh aloud in spite of himself; looking round
+carefully, however, to see if his laughing alone in public without
+apparent cause aroused any suspicion....
+
+D'Artagnan, walking and soliloquizing, had come within a few steps of
+the Aiguillon House, and in front of it saw Aramis chatting gaily with
+three of the King's Guards. Aramis also saw D'Artagnan; but not having
+forgotten that it was in his presence M. De Treville had got so angry
+in the morning, and as a witness of the rebuke was not at all
+pleasant, he pretended not to see him. D'Artagnan, on the other hand,
+full of his plans of conciliation and politeness, approached the young
+man with a profound bow accompanied by a most gracious smile. Aramis
+bowed slightly, but did not smile. Moreover, all four immediately
+broke off their conversation.
+
+D'Artagnan was not so dull as not to see he was not wanted; but he was
+not yet used enough to social customs to know how to extricate himself
+dextrously from his false position, which his generally is who accosts
+people he is little acquainted with, and mingles in a conversation
+which does not concern him. He was mentally casting about for the
+least awkward manner of retreat, when he noticed that Aramis had let
+his handkerchief fall and (doubtless by mistake) put his foot on it.
+This seemed a favorable chance to repair his mistake of intrusion: he
+stooped down, and with the most gracious air he could assume, drew the
+handkerchief from under the foot in spite of the efforts made to
+detain it, and holding it out to Aramis, said:
+
+"I believe, sir, this is a handkerchief you would be sorry to lose?"
+
+The handkerchief was in truth richly embroidered, and had a cornet and
+a coat of arms at one corner. Aramis blushed excessively, and snatched
+rather than took the handkerchief.
+
+"Ha! ha!" exclaimed one of the guards, "will you go on saying now,
+most discreet Aramis, that you are not on good terms with Madame de
+Bois-Tracy, when that gracious lady does you the favor of lending you
+her handkerchief!"
+
+Aramis darted at D'Artagnan one of those looks which tell a man that
+he has made a mortal enemy; then assuming his mild air he said:
+
+"You are mistaken, gentlemen: this handkerchief is not mine, and I can
+not understand why this gentleman has taken it into his head to offer
+it to me rather than to one of you. And as a proof of what I say, here
+is mine in my pocket."
+
+So saying, he pulled out his handkerchief, which was also not only a
+very dainty one, and of fine linen (tho linen was then costly), but
+was embroidered and without arms, bearing only a single cipher, the
+owner's.
+
+This time D'Artagnan saw his mistake; but Aramis's friends were by no
+means convinced, and one of them, addressing the young musketeer with
+pretended gravity, said:
+
+"If things were as you make out, I should feel obliged, my dear
+Aramis, to reclaim it myself; for as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is
+an intimate friend of mine, and I can not allow one of his wife's
+belongings to be exhibited as a trophy."
+
+"You make the demand clumsily," replied Aramis; "and while I
+acknowledge the justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on account of
+the form."
+
+"The fact is," D'Artagnan put in hesitatingly, "I did not actually see
+the handkerchief fall from M. Aramis's pocket. He had his foot on it,
+that's all, and I thought it was his."
+
+"And you were deceived, my dear sir," replied Aramis coldly, very
+little obliged for the explanation; then turning to the guard who had
+profest himself Bois-Tracy's friend--"Besides," he went on, "I have
+reflected, my dear intimate friend of Bois-Tracy, that I am not less
+devotedly his friend than you can possibly be, so that this
+handkerchief is quite as likely to have fallen from your pocket as
+from mine!"
+
+"On my honor, no!"
+
+"You are about to swear on your honor, and I on my word; and then it
+will be pretty evident that one of us will have lied. Now here,
+Montaran, we will do better than that: let each take a half."
+
+"Perfectly fair," cried the other two guardsmen; "the judgment of
+Solomon! Aramis, you are certainly full of wisdom!"
+
+They burst into a loud laugh, and as may be supposed, the incident
+bore no other fruit. In a minute or two the conversation stopt, and
+the three guards and the musketeer, after heartily shaking hands,
+separated, the guards going one way and Aramis another.
+
+"Now is the time to make my peace with this gentleman," said
+D'Artagnan to himself, having stood on one side during all the latter
+part of the conversation; and in this good spirit drawing near to
+Aramis, who was going off without paying any attention to him, he
+said:
+
+"You will excuse me, I hope."
+
+"Ah!" interrupted Aramis, "permit me to observe to you, sir, that you
+have not acted in this affair as a man of good breeding ought."
+
+"What!" cried D'Artagnan, "do you suppose--"
+
+"I suppose that you are not a fool, and that you knew very well, even
+tho you come from Gascony, that people do not stand on handkerchiefs
+for nothing. What the devil! Paris is not paved with linen!"
+
+"Sir, you do wrong in trying to humiliate me," said D'Artagnan, in
+whom his native pugnacity began to speak louder than his peaceful
+resolutions. "I come from Gascony, it is true; and since you know it,
+there is no need to tell you that Gascons are not very patient, so
+that when they have asked pardon once, even for a folly, they think
+they have done at least as much again as they ought to have done."
+
+"Sir, what I say to you about this matter," said Aramis, "is not for
+the sake of hunting a quarrel. Thank Heaven, I am not a
+swash-buckler, and being a musketeer only for a while, I only fight
+when I am forced to do so, and always with great reluctance; but this
+time the affair is serious, for here is a lady compromised by you."
+
+"By us, you mean," cried D'Artagnan.
+
+"Why did you give me back the handkerchief so awkwardly?"
+
+"Why did you let it fall so awkwardly?"
+
+"I have said that the handkerchief did not fall from my pocket."
+
+"Well, by saying that you have told two lies, sir; for I saw it fall."
+
+"Oh ho! you take it up that way, do you, Master Gascon? Well, I will
+teach you how to behave yourself."
+
+"And I will send you back to your pulpit, Master Priest. Draw, if you
+please, and instantly--"....
+
+"Prudence is a virtue useless enough to musketeers, I know, but
+indispensable to churchmen; and as I am only a temporary musketeer, I
+hold it best to be prudent. At two o'clock I shall have the honor of
+expecting you at Treville's. There I will point out the best place and
+time to you."
+
+The two bowed and separated. Aramis went up the street which led to
+the Luxembourg; while D'Artagnan, seeing that the appointed hour was
+coming near, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to himself,
+"I certainly can not hope to come out of these scrapes alive; but if I
+am doomed to be killed, it will be by a royal musketeer."
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE SAND
+
+ Born in France in 1804, died in 1876; her real name Aurore
+ Dupin, Baroness Dudevant; entered a convent in Paris in
+ 1817, remaining until 1820; married in 1822; sought a life
+ of independence in 1831 with Jules Sandeau, with whom she
+ collaborated in writing; became an advanced Republican,
+ active in politics; wrote for newspapers and started a
+ newspaper of her own; published "Indiana" in 1831,
+ "Consuelo" in 1842; "Elle et Lui" in 1858; "Nanon" in 1872;
+ author of many other books.
+
+
+
+
+LELIA AND THE POET[60]
+
+
+"The prophets are crying in the desert to-day, and no voice answers,
+for the world is indifferent and deaf: it lies down and stops its ears
+so as to die in peace. A few scattered groups of weak votaries vainly
+try to rekindle a spark of virtue. As the last remnants of man's moral
+power, they will float for a moment about the abyss, then go and join
+the other wrecks at the bottom of that shoreless sea which will
+swallow up the world."
+
+"O Lelia, why do you thus despair of those sublime men who aspire to
+bring virtue back to our iron age? Even if I were as doubtful of their
+success as you are, I would not say so. I should fear to commit an
+impious crime."
+
+[Footnote 60: From "Lelia," which was published in 1833, during an
+eventful period in its author's life. The character of Lelia was drawn
+from George Sand herself as a personification of human nature at war
+with itself. The original of Stenio was Alfred de Musset, whose
+intimate friendship with the author is historic.]
+
+"I admire those men," said Lelia, "and would like to be the least
+among them. But what will those shepherds bearing a star on their
+brows be able to do before the huge monster of the Apocalypse--before
+that immense and terrible figure outlined in the foreground of all the
+prophets' pictures? That woman, as pale and beautiful as vice--that
+great harlot of nations, decked with the wealth of the East, and
+bestriding a hydra belching forth rivers of poison on all human
+pathways--is Civilization; is humanity demoralized by luxury and
+science; is the torrent of venom which will swallow up all virtue, all
+hope of regeneration."
+
+"O Lelia!" exclaimed the poet, struck by superstition, "are not you
+that terrible and unhappy fantom? How many times this fear has taken
+possession of my dreams! How many times you have appeared to me as the
+type of the unspeakable agony to which the spirit of inquiry has
+driven man! With your beauty and your sadness, your weariness and your
+skepticism, do you not personify the excess of sorrow produced by the
+abuse of thought? Have you not given up, and as it were prostituted,
+that moral power, so highly developed by what art, poetry, and science
+have done for it, to every new impression and error? Instead of
+clinging faithfully and prudently to the simple creed of your fathers,
+and to the instinctive indifference God has implanted in man for his
+peace and preservation; instead of confining yourself to a pious life
+free from vain show, you have abandoned yourself to all the seductions
+of ambitious philosophy. You have cast yourself into the torrent of
+civilization rising to destroy, and which by dashing along too swiftly
+has ruined the scarcely laid foundations of the future. And because
+you have delayed the work of centuries for a few days, you think you
+have shattered the hourglass of Eternity. There is much pride in this
+grief, Lelia! But God will make this billow of stormy centuries, that
+for him are but a drop in the ocean, float by. The devouring hydra
+will perish for lack of food; and from its world-covering corpse a new
+race will issue, stronger and more patient than the old."
+
+"You see far into the future, Stenio! You personify Nature for me, and
+are her unspotted child. You have not yet blunted your faculties: you
+believe yourself immortal because you feel yourself young and like
+that untilled valley now blooming in pride and beauty--never dreaming
+that in a single day the plowshare and the hundred-handed monster
+called industry can tear its bosom to rob it of its treasures; you are
+growing up full of trust and presumption, not foreseeing your coming
+life, which will drag you down under the weight of its errors,
+disfigure you with the false colors of its promises. Wait, wait a few
+years, and you too will say, 'All is passing away!'"
+
+"No, all is not passing away!" said Stenio. "Look at the sun, and the
+earth, and the beautiful sky, and these green hills; and even that
+ice, winter's fragile edifice, which has withstood the rays of summer
+for centuries. Even so man's frail power will prevail! What matters
+the fall of a few generations? Do you weep for so slight a thing,
+Lelia? Do you deem it possible a single idea can die in the universe?
+Will not that imperishable inheritance be found intact in the dust of
+our extinct races, just as the inspirations of art and the discoveries
+of science arise alive each day from the ashes of Pompeii or the tombs
+of Memphis? Oh, what a great and striking proof of intellectual
+immortality! Deep mysteries had been lost in the night of time; the
+world had forgotten its age, and thinking itself still young, was
+alarmed at feeling itself so old. It said as you do, Lelia: 'I am
+about to end, for I am growing weak, and I was born but a few days
+ago! How few I shall need for dying, since so few were needed for
+living!' But one day human corpses were exhumed from the bosom of
+Egypt--Egypt that had lived out its period of civilization, and has
+just lived its period of barbarism! Egypt, where the ancient light,
+lost so long, is being rekindled, and a rested and rejuvenated Egypt
+may perhaps soon come and establish herself upon the extinguished
+torch of our own. Egypt, the living image of her mummies sleeping
+under the dust of ages, and now awaking to the broad daylight of
+science in order to reveal the age of the old world to the new! Is
+this not solemn and terrible, Lelia? Within the dried-up entrails of a
+human corpse the inquisitive glance of our century discovered the
+papyrus, that mysterious and sacred monument of man's eternal
+power--the still dark but incontrovertible witness of the imposing
+duration of creation. Our eager hand unrolls those perfumed bandages,
+those frail and indissoluble shrouds at which destruction stopt short.
+These bandages that once enfolded a corpse, these manuscripts that
+have rested under fleshless ribs in the place once occupied perhaps by
+a soul, are human thought; exprest in the science of signs, and
+transmitted by the help of an art we had lost, but have found again in
+the sepulchers of the East--the art of preserving the remains of the
+dead from the outrages of corruption--the greatest power in the
+universe. O Lelia, deny the youth of the world if you can, when you
+see it stop in artless ignorance before the lessons of the past, and
+begin to live on the forgotten ruins of an unknown world."
+
+"Knowledge is not power," replied Lelia. "Learning over again is not
+progress; seeing is not living. Who will give us back the power to
+act, and above all, the art of enjoying and retaining? We have gone
+too far forward now to retreat. What was merely repose for eclipsed
+civilizations will be death for our tired-out one; the rejuvenated
+nations of the East will come and intoxicate themselves with the
+poison we have poured on our soil. The bold barbarian drinkers may
+perhaps prolong the orgy of luxury a few hours into the night of time;
+but the venom we shall bequeath them will promptly be mortal for them,
+as it was for us, and all will drop back into blackness....
+
+"In fact, Stenio, do you not see that the sun is withdrawing from us?
+Is not the earth, wearied in its journey, noticeably drifting toward
+darkness and chaos? Is your blood so young and ardent as not to feel
+the touch of that chill spread like a pall over this planet abandoned
+to Fate, the most powerful of the gods? Oh, the cold! that penetrating
+pain driving sharp needles into every pore. That curst breath that
+withers flowers and burns them like fire; that pain at once physical
+and mental, which invades both soul and body, penetrates to the depths
+of thought, and paralyzes mind as well as blood! Cold--the sinister
+demon who grazes the universe with his damp wing, and breathes
+pestilence on bewildered nations! Cold, tarnishing everything,
+unrolling its gray and nebulous veil over the sky's rich tints, the
+waters' reflections, the hearts of flowers, and the cheeks of maidens!
+Cold, that casts its white winding-sheet over fields and woods and
+lakes, even over the fur and feathers of animals! Cold, that discolors
+all in the material as well as in the intellectual world; not only the
+coats of bears and hares on the shores of Archangel, but the very
+pleasures of man and the character of his habits in the spots it
+approaches! You surely see that everything is being civilized; that is
+to say, growing cold. The bronzed nations of the torrid zone are
+beginning to open their timid and suspicious hands to the snares of
+our skill; lions and tigers are being tamed, and come from the desert
+to amuse the peoples of the north. Animals which had never been able
+to grow accustomed to our climate, now leave their warm sun without
+dying, to live in domesticity among us, and even forget the proud and
+bitter sorrow which used to kill them when enslaved. It is because
+blood is congealing and growing poorer everywhere, while instinct
+grows and develops. The soul rises and leaves the earth, no longer
+sufficient for her needs."
+
+
+END OF VOL. VII.
+
+
+
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