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diff --git a/36174-8.txt b/36174-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..741183e --- /dev/null +++ b/36174-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13793 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of French Classics, by William Cleaver Wilkinson + +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: French Classics + +Author: William Cleaver Wilkinson + +Release Date: May 20, 2011 [EBook #36174] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRENCH CLASSICS *** + + + + +Produced by Marius Masi, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's note: + + The following typographical errors have been corrected: + + Page 23: "The people--that is, the promiscuous mass of + mankind--hardly exist to Froissart." 'promiscuous' amended from + 'promiscous'. + + Page 178: "Gil Blas, discouraged, was about to leave Dr. Sangrado's + service, when that distinguished physician said to him--we take up + the text of the story once more:" 'Blas' amended from 'Glas'. + + Page 189: "When the Christian religion, two centuries ago, became + unhappily divided into Catholic and Protestant, the people of the + north embraced the Protestant, and those south adhered still to the + Catholic." 'unhappily' amended from 'unhappilly'. + + Page 238: "His European reputation in science made his name a tower + of strength to the 'Encyclopædia,'--even after he ceased to be an + editorial coadjutor in the enterprise." 'editorial' amended from + 'editoral'. + + Page 295: "Dickens's Pegasus often flies with his bit between his + teeth. 'between' amended from 'beween'. + + + + +OTHER BOOKS BY PROFESSOR WILKINSON + + +THE EPIC OF SAUL + +THE EPIC OF PAUL + +WEBSTER: AN ODE. WITH NOTES + +POEMS + +A FREE LANCE IN THE FIELD OF LIFE AND LETTERS (Volume of Essays) + +EDWIN ARNOLD AS POETIZER AND AS PAGANIZER + +THE DANCE OF MODERN SOCIETY + + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY NEW YORK AND LONDON + + + + + _WILKINSON'S FOREIGN CLASSICS IN ENGLISH_ + + + FRENCH CLASSICS + + BY + + WILLIAM CLEAVER WILKINSON + + PROFESSOR OF POETRY AND CRITICISM + IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO + + * * * * * + + FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY + NEW YORK AND LONDON + 1909 + + + COPYRIGHT 1900 + + BY + + WILLIAM CLEAVER WILKINSON. + + (_Printed in the United States of America_) + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The preparation of the present volume proposed to the author a task more +difficult far than that undertaken in the case of either of the +literatures, the Greek or the Latin, treated in the four preceding +volumes of the present series. Those volumes dealt with literatures +limited and finished; this volume deals with a literature indefinitely +vast in extent, and still in vital process of growth. The selection of +material to be used was, in the case of the earlier volumes, virtually +made for the author beforehand, in a manner greatly to ease his sense of +responsibility for the exercise of individual judgment and taste. Long +prescription, joined to the winnowing effect of wear and waste through +time and chance, had left little doubt what works of what writers, Greek +and Roman, best deserved now to be shown to the general reader. Besides +this, the prevalent custom of the schools of classical learning could +then wisely be taken as a clew of guidance to be implicitly followed, +whatever might be the path through which it should lead. There is here +no similar avoidance of responsibility possible; for the schools have +not established a custom, and French literature is a living body, from +which no important members have ever yet been rent by the ravages of +time. + +The plan of this volume, together with the compass proposed for it, +created the necessity of establishing from the outset certain limits to +be very strictly observed. There could be no introductory general +matter, beyond a rapid and summary review of that literature, as a +whole, which is the subject of the book. The list of authors selected +for representation must not include the names of any still living. A +third thing resolved upon was to make the number of representative +names small rather than large, choice rather than inclusive. The +principle at this point adopted was to choose those authors only whose +merit, or whose fame, or whose influence, might be supposed +unquestionably such that their names and their works would certainly be +found surviving, though the language in which they wrote should, like +its parent Latin, have perished from the tongues of men. The proportion +of space severally allotted to the different authors was to be measured +partly according to their relative importance, and partly according to +their estimated relative capacity of interesting in translation the +average intelligent reader of to-day. + +In one word, the single inspiring aim of the author has here been to +furnish enlightened readers, versed only in the English language, the +means of acquiring, through the medium of their vernacular, some +proportioned, trustworthy, and effective knowledge and appreciation, in +its chief classics, of the great literature which has been written in +French. This object has been sought, not through narrative and +description, making books and authors the subject, but through the +literature itself, in specimen extracts illuminated by the necessary +explanation and criticism. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + I. + FRENCH LITERATURE 5 + + II. + FROISSART 22 + + III. + RABELAIS 29 + + IV. + MONTAIGNE 40 + + V. + LA ROCHEFOUCAULD (LA BRUYÈRE; VAUVENARGUES) 55 + + VI. + LA FONTAINE 66 + + VII. + MOLIÈRE 76 + + VIII. + PASCAL 91 + + IX. + MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ 105 + + X. + CORNEILLE 117 + + XI. + RACINE 127 + + XII. + BOSSUET, BOURDALOUE, MASSILLON, SAURIN 137 + + XIII. + FÉNELON 158 + + XIV. + LE SAGE 174 + + XV. + MONTESQUIEU, TOCQUEVILLE 184 + + XVI. + VOLTAIRE 199 + + XVII. + ROUSSEAU (ST. PIERRE) 212 + + XVIII. + THE ENCYCLOPÆDISTS 235 + + XIX. + MADAME DE STAEL 239 + + XX. + CHATEAUBRIAND 248 + + XXI. + BÉRANGER 256 + + XXII. + LAMARTINE 263 + + XXIII. + THE GROUP OF 1830 274 + + XXIV. + JOUBERT (SWETCHINE; AMIEL) 307 + + XXV. + EPILOGUE 318 + + INDEX 319 + + + + +FRENCH CLASSICS IN ENGLISH + +I. + +FRENCH LITERATURE. + + +Of French literature, taken as a whole, it may boldly be said that it +is, not the wisest, not the weightiest, not certainly the purest and +loftiest, but by odds the most brilliant and the most interesting, +literature in the world. Strong at many points, at some points +triumphantly strong, it is conspicuously weak at only one point,--the +important point of poetry. In eloquence, in philosophy, even in +theology; in history, in fiction, in criticism, in epistolary writing, +in what may be called the pamphlet; in another species of composition, +characteristically, peculiarly, almost uniquely, French--the Thought and +the Maxim; by eminence in comedy, and in all those related modes of +written expression for which there is scarcely any name but a French +name--the _jeu d'esprit_, the _bon mot_, _persiflage_, the _phrase_; in +social and political speculation; last, but not least, in scientific +exposition elegant enough in form and in style to rise to the rank of +literature proper--the French language has abundant achievement to show, +that puts it, upon the whole, hardly second in wealth of letters to any +other language whatever, either ancient or modern. + +What constitutes the charm--partly a perilous charm--of French +literature is before all else its incomparable clearness, its precision, +its neatness, its point; then, added to this, its lightness of touch, +its sureness of aim; its vivacity, sparkle, life; its inexhaustible +gayety; its impulsion toward wit--impulsion so strong as often to land +it in mockery; the sense of release that it breathes and inspires; its +freedom from prick to the conscience; its exquisite study and choice of +effect; its deference paid to decorum--decorum, we mean, in taste, as +distinguished from morals; its infinite patience and labor of art, +achieving the perfection of grace and of ease--in one word, its style. + +We speak, of course, broadly and in the gross. There are plenty of +French authors to whom some of the traits just named could by no means +be attributed, and there is certainly not a single French author to whom +one could truthfully attribute them all. Voltaire insisted that what was +not clear was not French--so much, to the conception of this typical +Frenchman, was clearness the genius of the national speech. Still, +Montaigne, for example, was sometimes obscure; and even the tragedist +Corneille wrote here and there what his commentator, Voltaire, declared +to be hardly intelligible. So, too, Rabelais, coarsest of humorists, +offending decorum in various ways, offended it most of all exactly in +that article of taste, as distinguished from morals, which, with +first-rate French authors in general, is so capital a point of regard. +On the other hand, Pascal--not to mention the moralists by profession, +such as Nicole, and the preachers Bourdaloue and Massillon--Pascal, +quivering himself, like a soul unclad, with sense of responsibility to +God, constantly probes you, reading him, to the inmost quick of your +conscience. Rousseau, notably in the "Confessions," and in the +"Reveries" supplementary to the "Confessions;" Chateaubriand, echoing +Rousseau; and that wayward woman of genius, George Sand, disciple she to +both--were so far from being always light-heartedly gay, that not seldom +they spread over their page a somber atmosphere almost of gloom--gloom +flushed pensively, as with a clouded "setting sun's pathetic light." In +short, when you speak of particular authors, and naturally still more +when you speak of particular works, there are many discriminations to be +made. Such exceptions, however, being duly allowed, the literary product +of the French mind, considered in the aggregate, will not be +misconceived if regarded as possessing the general characteristics in +style that we have now sought briefly to indicate. + +French literature, we have hinted, is comparatively poor in poetry. This +is due in part, no doubt, to the genius of the people; but it is also +due in part to the structure of the language. The language, which is +derived chiefly from Latin, is thence in such a way derived as to have +lost the regularity and stateliness of its ancient original, without +having compensated itself with any richness and sweetness of sound +peculiarly its own; like, for instance, that canorous vowel quality of +its sister derivative, the Italian. The French language, in short, is +far from being an ideal language for the poet. + +In spite, however, of this fact, disputed by nobody, it is true of +French literature, as it is true of almost any national literature, that +it took its rise in verse instead of in prose. Anciently there were two +languages subsisting together in France which came to be distinguished +from each other in name by the word of affirmation--_oc_ or _oïl_, +yes--severally peculiar to them, and thus to be known respectively as +_langue d'oc_ and _langue d'oïl_. The future belonged to the latter of +the two forms of speech--the one spoken in the northern part of the +country. This, the _langue d'oïl_, became at length the French language. +But the _langue d'oc_, a soft and musical tongue, survived long enough +to become the vehicle of lyric strains, mostly on subjects of love and +gallantry, still familiar in mention, and famous as the songs of the +troubadours. The flourishing time of the troubadours was in the eleventh +and twelfth centuries. Provençal is an alternative name of the language. + +Side by side with the southern _troubadours_, or a little later than +they, the _trouvères_ of the north sang, with more manly ambition, of +national themes, and, like Virgil, of arms and of heroes. Some +productions of the _trouvères_ may fairly be allowed an elevation of aim +and of treatment entitling them to be called epic in character. +_Chansons de geste_ (songs of exploit), or _romans_, is the native name +by which those primitive French poems are known. They exist in three +principal cycles, or groups, of productions--one cycle composed of those +pertaining to Charlemagne; one, of those pertaining to British Arthur, +and a third, of those pertaining to ancient Greece and Rome, notably to +Alexander the Great. The cycle revolving around the majestic legend of +Charlemagne for its center was Teutonic, rather than Celtic, in spirit +as well as in theme. It tended to the religious in tone. The Arthurian +cycle was properly Celtic. It dealt more with adventures of love. The +Alexandrian cycle, so named from one principal theme celebrated--namely, +the deeds of Alexander the Great--mixed fantastically the traditions of +ancient Greece and Rome with the then prevailing ideas of chivalry, and +with the figments of fairy lore. (The metrical form employed in these +poems gave its name to the Alexandrine line later so predominant in +French poetry.) The volume of this quasi-epical verse, existing in its +three groups, or cycles, is immense. So is that of the satire and the +allegory in meter that followed. From this latter store of stock and +example, Chaucer drew to supply his muse with material. The _fabliaux_, +so called--fables, that is, or stories--were still another form of +French literature in verse. It is only now, within the current decade of +years, that a really ample collection of _fabliaux_--hitherto, with the +exception of a few printed volumes of specimens, extant exclusively in +manuscript--has been put into course of publication. Rutebeuf, a +_trouvère_ of the reign of St. Louis (Louis IX., thirteenth century), is +perhaps as conspicuous a personal name as any that thus far emerges out +of the sea of practically anonymous early French authorship. A frankly +sordid and mercenary singer, Rutebeuf always tending to mockery, was not +seldom licentious--in both these respects anticipating, as probably also +to some extent by example conforming, the subsequent literary spirit of +his nation. The _fabliaux_ generally mingled with their narrative +interest that spice of raillery and satire constantly so dear to the +French literary appetite. Thibaud was, in a double sense, a royal singer +of songs; for he reigned over Navarre, as well as chanted sweetly in +verse his love and longing, so the disputed legend asserts, for Queen +Blanche of Castile. Thibaud bears the historic title of The Song-maker. +He has been styled the Béranger of the thirteenth century. To Thibaud is +said to be due the introduction of the feminine rhyme into French +poetry--a metrical variation of capital importance. The songs of +Abélard, in the century preceding Thibaud, won a wide popularity. + +Prose, meantime, had been making noteworthy approaches to form. +Villehardouin must be named as first in time among French writers of +history. His work is entitled, "Conquest of Constantinople." It gives an +account of the fourth crusade. Joinville, a generation later, continues +the succession of chronicles with his admiring story of the life of St. +Louis, whose personal friend he was. But Froissart of the fourteenth +century, and Comines of the fifteenth, are greater names. Froissart, by +his simplicity and his narrative art, was the Herodotus, as Philip de +Comines, for his political sagacity, has been styled the Tacitus, of +French historical literature. Up to the time of Froissart, the +literature which we have been treating as French was different enough in +form from the French of to-day to require what might be called +translation in order to become generally intelligible to the living +generation of Frenchmen. The text of Froissart is pretty archaic, but it +definitely bears the aspect of French. + +With the name of Comines, who wrote of Louis XI. (compare Walter Scott's +"Quentin Durward"), we reach the fifteenth century, and are close upon +the great revival of learning which accompanied the religious +reformation under Luther and his peers. Now come Rabelais, boldly +declared by Coleridge one of the great creative minds of literature; and +Montaigne, with those essays of his, still living, and, indeed, certain +always to live. John Calvin, meantime, writes his "Institutes of the +Christian Religion" in French as well as in Latin, showing, once and for +all, that in the right hands his vernacular tongue was as capable of +gravity as many a writer before him had superfluously shown that it was +capable of levity. Amyot, the translator of Plutarch, is a French writer +of power, without whom the far greater Montaigne could hardly have been. +The influence of Amyot on French literary history is wider in reach and +longer in duration than we thus indicate; but Montaigne's indebtedness +to him is alone enough to prove that a mere translator had in this man +made a very important contribution to the forming prose literature of +France. + +"The Pleiades," so called, were a group of seven writers, who, about the +middle of the sixteenth century, banded themselves together in France, +with the express aim of supplying influential example to improve the +French language for literary purposes. Their peculiar appellation, "The +Pleiades," was copied from that of a somewhat similar group of Greek +writers that existed in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Of course, the +implied allusion in it is to the constellation of the Pleiades. The +individual name by which the "Pleiades" of the sixteenth century may +best be remembered is that of Ronsard, the poet, associated with the +romantic and pathetic memory of Mary Queen of Scots. Never, perhaps, in +the history of letters was the fame of a poet in the poet's own +life-time more universal and more splendid than was the fame of Ronsard. +A high court of literary judicature formally decreed to Ronsard the +title of The French Poet by eminence. This occurred in the youth of the +poet. The wine of success so brilliant turned the young fellow's head. +He soon began to play lord paramount of Parnassus, with every air of one +born to the purple. The kings of the earth vied with each other to do +him honor. Ronsard affected scholarship, and the foremost scholars of +his time were proud to place him with Homer and with Virgil on the roll +of the poets. Ronsard's peculiarity in style was the free use of words +and constructions not properly French. Boileau indicated whence he +enriched his vocabulary and his syntax, by satirically saying that +Ronsard spoke Greek and Latin in French. At his death, Ronsard was +almost literally buried under praises. Sainte-Beuve strikingly says that +he seemed to go forward into posterity as into a temple. + +Sharp posthumous reprisals awaited the extravagant fame of Ronsard. +Malherbe, coming in the next generation, legislator of Parnassus, +laughed the literary pretensions of Ronsard to scorn. This stern critic +of form, such is the story, marked up his copy of Ronsard with notes of +censure so many, that a friend of his, seeing the annotated volume, +observed, "What here is not marked will be understood to have been +approved by you." Whereupon Malherbe, taking his pen, with one +indiscriminate stroke drew it abruptly through the whole volume. "There +I Ronsardized," the contemptuous critic would exclaim, when in reading +his own verses to an acquaintance--for Malherbe was a poet himself--he +happened to encounter a word that struck him as harsh or improper. +Malherbe, in short, sought to chasten and check the luxuriant overgrowth +to which the example and method of the Pleiades were tending to push the +language of poetry in French. The resultant effect of the two contrary +tendencies--that of literary wantonness on the one hand, and that of +literary prudery on the other--was at the same time to enrich and to +purify French poetical diction. Balzac (the elder), close to Malherbe in +time, performed a service for French prose similar to that which the +latter performed for French verse. These two critical and literary +powers brought in the reign of what is called classicism in France. +French classicism had its long culmination under Louis XIV. + +But it was under Louis XIII., or rather under that monarch's great +minister, Cardinal Richelieu, that the rich and splendid Augustan age of +French literature was truly prepared. Two organized forces, one of them +private and social, the other official and public, worked together, +though sometimes perhaps not in harmony, to produce the magnificent +literary result that illustrated the time of Louis XIV. Of these two +organized forces the Hôtel de Rambouillet was one, and the French +Academy was the other. The Hôtel de Rambouillet has become the adopted +name of a literary society, presided over by the fine inspiring genius +of the beautiful and accomplished Italian wife of the Marquis de +Rambouillet, a lady who generously conceived the idea of rallying the +feminine wit and virtue of the kingdom to exert a potent influence for +regenerating the manners and morals, and indeed the literature, of +France. At the high court of blended rank and fashion and beauty and +polish and virtue and wit, thus established in the exquisitely builded +and decorated saloons of the Rambouillet mansion, the selectest literary +genius and fame of France were proud and glad to assemble for the +discussion and criticism of literature. Here came Balzac and Voiture; +here Corneille read aloud his masterpieces before they were represented +on the stage; here Descartes philosophized; here the large and splendid +genius of Bossuet first unfolded itself to the world; here Madame de +Sévigné brought her bright, incisive wit, trebly commended by stainless +reputation, unwithering beauty, and charming address, in the woman who +wielded it. The noblest blood of France added the decoration and +inspiration of their presence. It is not easy to overrate the diffusive +beneficent influence that hence went forth to change the fashion of +literature, and to change the fashion of society, for the better. The +Hôtel de Rambouillet proper lasted two generations only; but it had a +virtual succession, which, though sometimes interrupted, was scarcely +extinct until the brilliant and beautiful Madame Récamier ceased, about +the middle of the present century, to hold her famous _salons_ in Paris. +The continuous fame and influence of the French Academy, founded by +Richelieu, everybody knows. No other European language has been +elaborately and sedulously formed and cultivated like the French. + +But great authors are better improvers of a language than any societies, +however influential. Corneille, Descartes, Pascal, did more for French +style than either the Hôtel de Rambouillet or the Academy--more than +both these two great literary societies together. In verse, Racine, +following Corneille, advanced in some important respects upon the +example and lead of that great original master; but in prose, when +Pascal published his "Provincial Letters," French style reached at once +a point of perfection beyond which it never since has gone. Bossuet, +Bourdaloue, Fénelon, Massillon, Molière, La Fontaine, Boileau, La +Rochefoucauld, La Bruyère--what a constellation of names are these to +glorify the age of Louis XIV.! And Louis XIV. himself, royal embodiment +of a literary good sense carried to the pitch of something very like +real genius in judgment and taste--what a sun was he (with that talent +of his for kingship, probably never surpassed), to balance and to sway, +from his unshaken station, the august intellectual system of which he +alone constituted the despotic center to attract and repel! Seventy-two +years long was this sole individual reign. Louis XIV. still sat on the +throne of France when the seventeenth century became the eighteenth. + +The eighteenth century was an age of universal reaction in France. +Religion, or rather ecclesiasticism--for, in the France of those times, +religion was the Church, and the Church was the Roman Catholic +hierarchy--had been the dominant fashion under Louis XIV. Infidelity was +a broad literary mark, written all over the face of the eighteenth +century. It was the hour and power of the Encyclopædists and the +Philosophers--of Voltaire, of Diderot, of D'Alembert, of Rousseau. +Montesquieu, though contemporary, belongs apart from these writers. More +really original, more truly philosophical, he was far less +revolutionary, far less destructive, than they. Still, his influence +was, on the whole, exerted in the direction, if not of infidelity, at +least of religious indifferentism. The French Revolution was laid in +train by the great popular writers whom we have now named, and by their +fellows. It needed only the spark, which the proper occasion would be +sure soon to strike out, and the awful earthshaking explosion would +follow. After the Revolution, during the First Empire, so called--the +usurpation, that is, of Napoleon Bonaparte--literature was well-nigh +extinguished in France. The names, however, then surpassingly brilliant, +of Chateaubriand and Madame de Stael, belong to this period. + +Three centuries have now elapsed since the date of "The Pleiades." +Throughout this long period, French literature has been chiefly under +the sway of that spirit of classicism in style which the reaction +against Ronsardism, led first by Malherbe and afterward by Boileau, had +established as the national standard in literary taste and aspiration. +But Rousseau's genius acted as a powerful solvent of the classic +tradition. Chateaubriand's influence was felt on the same side, +continuing Rousseau's. George Sand, too, and Lamartine, were forces that +strengthened this component. Finally, the great personality of Victor +Hugo proved potent enough definitively to break the spell that had been +so long and so heavily laid on the literary development of France. The +bloodless warfare was fierce between the revolutionary Romanticists and +the conservative Classicists in literary style, but the victory seemed +at last to remain with the advocates of the new romantic revival. It +looked, on the face of the matter, like a signal triumph of originality +over prescription, of genius over criticism, of power over rule. We +still live in the midst of the dying echoes of this resonant strife. +Perhaps it is too early, as yet, to determine on which side, by the +merit of the cause, the advantage truly belongs. But, by the merit of +the respective champions, the result was, for a time at least, +triumphantly decided in favor of the Romanticists, against the +Classicists. The weighty authority, however, of Sainte-Beuve, at first +thrown into the scale that was destined to sink, was thence withdrawn, +and at last, if not resolutely cast upon the opposite side of the +balance, was left wavering in a kind of equipoise between the one and +the other. + +But our preliminary sketch already reaches the limit within which our +choice of authors for representation is necessarily confined. + +With first a few remarks, naturally suggested, that may be useful, on +the general subject thus rather touched merely than handled, the present +writer gives way to let now the representative authors themselves, +selected for the purpose, supply to the reader a just and lively idea of +French literature. + +The first thing, perhaps, to strike the thoughtful mind in a +comprehensive view of the subject is not so much the length--though this +is remarkable--as the long _continuity_ of French literary history. From +its beginning down to the actual moment, French literature has suffered +no serious break in the course of its development. There have been +periods of greater and periods of less prosperity and fruit; but wastes +of marked suspension and barrenness there have been none. + +The second thing noticeable is, that French literature has, to a +singular degree, lived an independent life of its own. It has found +copious springs of health and growth within its own bosom. + +But then a third thing to be also observed is that, on the other hand, +the touch of foreign influence, felt and acknowledged by this most +proudly and self-sufficiently national of literatures, has proved to it, +at various epochs, a sovereign force of revival and elastic expansion. +Thus, the great renascence in the sixteenth century of ancient Greek and +Latin letters was new life to French literature. So, again, Spanish +literature, brought into contact with French through Corneille and +Molière, with others, gave to the national mind of France a new literary +launch. But the most recent and perhaps the most remarkable example of +foreign influence quickening French literature to make it freshly +fruitful is supplied in the great romanticizing movement under the lead +of Victor Hugo. English literature--especially Shakespeare--was largely +the pregnant cause of this attempted emancipation of the French literary +mind from the bondage of classicism. + +A fourth very salient trait in French literary history consists in the +self-conscious, elaborate, persistent efforts put forth from time to +time by individuals, and by organizations, both public and private, in +France, to improve the language and to elevate the literature of the +nation. We know of nothing altogether comparable to this anywhere else +in the literature of the world. + +A fifth striking thing about French literature is, that it has, to a +degree as we believe beyond parallel, exercised a real and vital +influence on the character and the fortune of the nation. The social, +the political, the moral, the religious, history of France is from age +to age a faithful reflex of the changing phases of its literature. Of +course, a reciprocal influence has been constantly reflected back and +forth from the nation upon its literature, as well as from its +literature upon the nation. But where else in the world has it ever been +so extraordinarily, we may say so appallingly, true as in France, that +the nation was such because such was its literature? + +French literature, it will at once be seen, is a study possessing, +beyond the literary, a social, a political, and even a religious, +interest. + +Readers desiring to push their conversance with the literary history of +France further into the catalogue of its less important names than the +present volume will enable them to do will consult with profit either +the Primer, or the Short History, of French Literature, by Mr. George +Saintsbury. Mr. Saintsbury is a well-informed writer, who diffuses +himself perhaps too widely to do his best possible work. But he has made +French literature a specialty, and he is in general a trustworthy +authority on the subject. + +Another writer on the subject is Mr. H. Van Laun. Him, although a +predecessor of his own in the field, Mr. Saintsbury severely ignores, by +claiming that he is himself the first to write in English a history of +French literature based on original and independent reading of the +authors. We are bound to say that Mr. Van Laun's work is of very poor +quality. It offers, indeed, to the reader one advantage not afforded by +either of Mr. Saintsbury's works--the advantage, namely, of illustrative +extracts from the authors treated extracts, however, not unfrequently +marred by wretched translation. + +A noteworthy book of the year 1889 is "A History of French Literature" +by Charles Woodward Hutson, Professor of Modern Languages in the +University of Mississippi. This is an intelligent, well-studied, +well-written, carefully conscientious, comprehensive account of French +letters from the beginning down to the present day. It has, as a +concluding chapter, a notice of the "French Writers of Louisiana." An +admirable series of books, translated from the French, on the great +French writers, has recently been brought out in Chicago. These two last +mentions, by the way, strikingly suggest how wide, territorially, the +bounds of the republic of letters are becoming in our country. + +The cyclopædias are, some of them, both in articles on particular +authors and in their sketches of French literary history as a whole, +good sources of general information on the subject. Readers who command +the means of comparing several different cyclopædias, or several +successive editions of some one cyclopædia, as, for example, the +"Encyclopædia Britannica," will find enlightening and stimulating the +not always harmonious views presented on the same topics. Hallam's +"History of Literature in Europe" is an additional authority by no means +to be overlooked. And, finally, it is to be remembered that any good +general history of France will almost certainly contain notices of the +more important literary events co-ordinately with those of political, +social, economic, or scientific moment. + + + + +II. + +FROISSART. + +1337-1410. + + +French literature, for the purposes of the present volume, may be said +to commence with Froissart. Froissart is a kind of mediæval Herodotus. +His time is, indeed, almost this side the Middle Ages; but by character +and by sympathy he belongs rather to the mediæval than to the modern +world. He is delightfully like Herodotus in the style and the spirit of +his narrative. Like Herodotus, he became a traveler in order to become +an historian. Like Herodotus, he was cosmopolite enough not to be +narrowly patriotic. Frenchman though he was, he took as much pleasure in +recounting English victories as he did in recounting French. His +countrymen have even accused him of unpatriotic partiality for the +English. His Chronicles have been, perhaps, more popular in their +English form than in their original French. Two prominent English +translations have been made, of which the later, that by Thomas Johnes, +is now most read. Sir Walter Scott thought the earlier excelled in charm +of style. + +Jehan or Jean Froissart was a native of Valenciennes. His father meant +to make a priest of him, but the boy had tastes of his own. Before he +was well out of his teens he began writing history. This was under the +patronage of a great noble. Froissart was all his life a natural +courtier. He throve on the patronage of the great. It was probably not a +fawning spirit in him that made him this kind of man; it was rather an +innate love of splendor and high exploit. He admired chivalry, then in +its last days, and he painted it with the passion of an idealizer. His +father had been an heraldic painter, so it was perhaps an hereditary +strain in the son that naturally attached him to rank and royalty. The +people--that is, the promiscuous mass of mankind--hardly exist to +Froissart. His pages, spacious as they are, have scarcely room for more +than kings and nobles, and knights and squires. He is a picturesque and +romantic historian, in whose chronicles the glories of the world of +chivalry--a world, as we have said, already dying, and so soon to +disappear--are fixed forever on an ample canvas, in moving form and +shifting color, to delight the backward-looking imagination of mankind. + +Froissart, besides being chronicler, was something of a poet. It would +still be possible to confront one who should call this in question with +thirty thousand surviving verses from the chronicler's pen. Quantity, +indeed, rather than quality, is the strong point of Froissart as poet. + +He had no sooner finished the first part of his Chronicles, a +compilation from the work of an earlier hand, than he posted to England +for the purpose of formally presenting his work to the queen, a princess +of Hainault. She rewarded him handsomely. Woman enough, too, she was, +woman under the queen, duly to despatch him back again to his native +land, where the young fellow's heart, she saw, was lost to a noble lady, +whom, from his inferior station, he could woo only as moth might woo the +moon. He subsequently returned to Great Britain, and rode about on +horseback gathering materials of history. He visited Italy under +excellent auspices, and, together with Chaucer and with Petrarch, +witnessed a magnificent marriage ceremonial in Milan. Froissart +continued to travel far and wide, always a favorite with princes, but +always intent on achieving his projected work. He finally died at +Chimay, where he had spent his closing years in rounding out to their +completeness his "Chronicles of England, France, and the Adjoining +Countries." + +Froissart is the most leisurely of historians, or, rather, he is a +writer who presupposes the largest allowance of leisure at the command +of his readers. He does not seek proportion and perspective. He simply +tells us all he has been able to find out respecting each transaction +in its turn as it successively comes up in the progress of his +narrative. If he goes wrong to-day, he will perhaps correct himself +to-morrow, or day after to-morrow--this not by changing the first record +where it stands, to make it right, but by inserting a note of his +mistake at the point, whatever it may be, which he shall chance to have +reached in the work of composition when the new and better light breaks +in on his eyes. The student is thus never quite certain but that what he +is at one moment reading in his author may be an error of which at some +subsequent moment he will be faithfully advised. A little discomposing, +this, but such is Froissart; and it is the philosophical way to take +your author as he is, and make the best of him. + +Of such an historian, an historian so diffuse, and so little selective, +it would obviously be difficult to give any suitably brief specimen that +should seem to present a considerable historic action in full. We go to +Froissart's account of the celebrated battle of Poitiers (France). This +was fought in 1356, between Edward the Black Prince on the English side, +and King John on the side of the French. King John, as a result of the +battle, fell into the hands of the enemy. + +The king of the French was, of course, a great prize to be secured by +the victorious English. There was eager individual rivalry as to what +particular warrior should be adjudged his true captor. Froissart thus +describes the strife and the issue: + + There was much pressing at this time, through eagerness to take the + king; and those who were nearest to him, and knew him, cried out, + "Surrender yourself, surrender yourself, or you are a dead man!" In + that part of the field was a young knight from St. Omer, who was + engaged by a salary in the service of the king of England; his name + was Denys de Morbeque, who for five years had attached himself to the + English, on account of having been banished in his younger days from + France, for a murder committed in an affray at St. Omer. It + fortunately happened for this knight, that he was at the time near to + the king of France, when he was so much pulled about. He, by dint of + force, for he was very strong and robust, pushed through the crowd, + and said to the king, in good French, "Sire, sire, surrender + yourself!" The king, who found himself very disagreeably situated, + turning to him, asked, "To whom shall I surrender myself? to whom? + Where is my cousin, the Prince of Wales? If I could see him, I would + speak to him." "Sire," replied Sir Denys, "he is not here; but + surrender yourself to me, and I will lead you to him." "Who are you?" + said the king. "Sire, I am Denys de Morbeque, a knight from Artois; + but I serve the king of England because I cannot belong to France, + having forfeited all I possessed there." The king then gave him his + right-hand glove, and said, "I surrender myself to you." There was + much crowding and pushing about; for every one was eager to cry out, + "I have taken him!" Neither the king nor his youngest son Philip were + able to get forward, and free themselves from the throng.... + + The Prince [of Wales] asked them [his marshals] if they knew any thing + of the king of France; they replied, "No, sir, not for a certainty; + but we believe he must be either killed or made prisoner, since he has + never quitted his batallion." The prince then, addressing the Earl of + Warwick and Lord Cobham, said: "I beg of you to mount your horses, and + ride over the field so that on your return you may bring me some + certain intelligence of him." The two barons, immediately mounting + their horses, left the prince, and made for a small hillock, that they + might look about them. From their stand they perceived a crowd of + men-at-arms on foot, who were advancing very slowly. The king of + France was in the midst of them, and in great danger; for the English + and Gascons had taken him from Sir Denys de Morbeque, and were + disputing who should have him, the stoutest bawling out, "It is I that + have got him." "No, no," replied the others, "we have him." The king, + to escape from this peril, said: "Gentlemen, gentlemen, I pray you + conduct me and my son in a courteous manner to my cousin the prince; + and do not make such a riot about my capture, for I am so great a lord + that I can make all sufficiently rich." These words, and others which + fell from the king, appeased them a little; but the disputes were + always beginning again, and they did not move a step without rioting. + When the two barons saw this troop of people, they descended from the + hillock, and, sticking spurs into their horses, made up to them. On + their arrival, they asked what was the matter. They were answered, + that it was the king of France, who had been made prisoner, and that + upward of ten knights and squires challenged him at the same time, as + belonging to each of them. The two barons then pushed through the + crowd by main force, and ordered all to draw aside. They commanded, in + the name of the prince, and under pain of instant death, that every + one should keep his distance, and not approach unless ordered or + desired so to do. They all retreated behind the king; and the two + barons, dismounting, advanced to the king with profound reverences, + and conducted him in a peaceable manner to the Prince of Wales. + +We continue our citation from Froissart with the brief chapter in which +the admiring chronicler tells the gallant story of the Black Prince's +behavior as host toward his royal captive, King John of France (it was +the evening after the battle): + + When evening was come, the Prince of Wales gave a supper in his + pavilion to the king of France, and to the greater part of the princes + and barons who were prisoners. The prince seated the king of France, + and his son the Lord Philip, at an elevated and well-covered table; + with them were Sir James de Bourbon, the Lord John d'Artois, the Earls + of Tancarville, of Estampes, of Dammartin, of Graville, and the Lord + of Partenay. The other knights and squires were placed at different + tables. The prince himself served the king's table, as well as the + others, with every mark of humility, and would not sit down at it, in + spite of all his entreaties for him so to do, saying that "he was not + worthy of such an honor, nor did it appertain to him to seat himself + at the table of so great a king, or of so valiant a man as he had + shown himself by his actions that day." He added, also, with a noble + air, "Dear sir, do not make a poor meal because the Almighty God has + not gratified your wishes in the event of this day; for be assured + that my lord and father will show you every honor and friendship in + his power, and will arrange your ransom so reasonably, that you will + henceforward always remain friends. In my opinion, you have cause to + be glad that the success of this battle did not turn out as you + desired; for you have this day acquired such high renown for prowess + that you have surpassed all the best knights on your side. I do not, + dear sir, say this to flatter you: for all those of our side who have + seen and observed the actions of each party, have unanimously allowed + this to be your due, and decree you the prize and garland for it." At + the end of this speech, there were murmurs of praise heard from every + one; and the French said the prince had spoken nobly and truly, and + that he would be one of the most gallant princes in Christendom if God + should grant him life to pursue his career of glory. + +A splendid and a gracious figure the Black Prince makes in the pages of +Froissart. It was great good fortune for the posthumous fame of chivalry +that the institution should have come by an artist so gifted and so +loyal as this Frenchman, to deliver its features in portrait to +after-times, before the living original vanished forever from the view +of history. How much the fiction of Sir Walter Scott owes to Froissart, +and to Philip de Comines after Froissart, those only can understand who +have read both the old chronicles and the modern romances. + +It was one of the congenial labors of Sidney Lanier--pure flame of +genius that late burned itself out so swiftly among us!--to edit a +reduction or abridgment of Froissart's Chronicles dedicated especially +to the use of the young. "The Boy's Froissart," he called it. This book +is enriched with a wise and genial appreciation of Froissart's quality +by his American editor. + +Whoever reads Froissart needs to remember that the old chronicler is too +much enamored of chivalry, and is too easily dazzled by splendor of +rank, to be a rigidly just censor of faults committed by knights and +nobles and kings. Froissart, in truth, seems to have been nearly +destitute of the sentiment of humanity. War to him was chiefly a game +and a spectacle. + +Our presentation of Froissart must close with a single passage +additional, a picturesque one, in which the chronicler describes the +style of living witnessed by him at the court--we may so not unfitly +apply a royal word--of the Count de Foix. The reader must understand, +while he reads what we here show, that Froissart himself, in close +connection, relates at full, in the language of an informant of his, how +this magnificent Count de Foix had previously killed, with a knife at +his throat, his own and his only son. "I was truly sorry," so, at the +conclusion of the story, Froissart, with characteristic direction of his +sympathy, says, "for the count his father, whom I found a magnificent, +generous, and courteous lord, and also for the country that was +discontented for want of an heir." Here is the promised passage; it +occurs in the ninth chapter of the third volume: + + Count Gaston Phoebus de Foix, of whom I am now speaking, was at that + time fifty-nine years old; and I must say, that although I have seen + very many knights, kings, princes, and others, I have never seen any + so handsome, either in the form of his limbs and shape, or in + countenance, which was fair and ruddy, with gray and amorous eyes, + that gave delight whenever he chose to express affection. He was so + perfectly formed, one could not praise him too much. He loved + earnestly the things he ought to love, and hated those which it was + becoming him so to hate. He was a prudent knight, full of enterprise + and wisdom. He had never any men of abandoned character with him, + reigned prudently, and was constant in his devotions. There were + regular nocturnals from the Psalter, prayers from the rituals to the + Virgin, to the Holy Ghost, and from the burial service. He had every + day distributed as alms, at his gate, five florins in small coin, to + all comers. He was liberal and courteous in his gifts, and well knew + how to take when it was proper, and to give back where he had + confidence. He mightily loved dogs above all other animals, and during + the summer and winter amused himself much with hunting.... + + When he quitted his chamber at midnight for supper, twelve servants + bore each a lighted torch before him, which were placed near his + table, and gave a brilliant light to the apartment. The hall was full + of knights and squires, and there were plenty of tables laid out for + any person who chose to sup. No one spoke to him at his table, unless + he first began a conversation. He commonly ate heartily of poultry, + but only the wings and thighs; for in the day-time, he neither ate nor + drank much. He had great pleasure in hearing minstrels; as he himself + was a proficient in the science, and made his secretaries sing songs, + ballads, and roundelays. He remained at table about two hours, and was + pleased when fanciful dishes were served up to him, which having seen, + he immediately sent them to the tables of his knights and squires. + + In short, every thing considered, though I had before been in several + courts of kings, dukes, princes, counts, and noble ladies, I was never + at one that pleased me more, nor was I ever more delighted with feats + of arms, than at this of the Count de Foix. There were knights and + squires to be seen in every chamber, hall, and court, going backward, + and forward, and conversing on arms and amours. Every thing honorable + was there to be found. All intelligence from distant countries was + there to be learnt, for the gallantry of the count had brought + visitors from all parts of the world. It was there I was informed of + the greater part of those events which had happened in Spain, + Portugal, Arragon, Navarre, England, Scotland, and on the borders of + Languedoc; for I saw, during my residence, knights and squires arrive + from every nation. I therefore made inquiries from them, or from the + count himself, who cheerfully conversed with me. + +The foregoing is one of the most celebrated passages of description in +Froissart. At the same time that it discloses the form and spirit of +those vanished days, which will never come again to the world, it +discloses likewise the character of the man, who must indeed have loved +it all well, to have been able so well to describe it. + +We take now a somewhat long forward step, in going, as we do, at once +from Froissart to Rabelais. Comines, an historian intervening, we must +reluctantly pass, with thus barely mentioning his name. + + + + +III. + +RABELAIS. + +1495-1553. + + +Rabelais is one of the most famous of writers. But he is, at the same +time, of famous writers perhaps quite incomparably the coarsest. + +The real quality of such a writer it is evidently out of the question to +exhibit at all adequately here. But equally out of the question it is to +omit Rabelais altogether from an account of French literature. + +Of the life of François Rabelais, the man, these few facts will be +sufficient to know. In early youth he joined the monastic order of +Franciscans. That order hated letters; but Rabelais loved them. He, in +fact, conceived a voracious ambition of knowledge. He became immensely +learned. This fact, with what it implies of long labor patiently +achieved, is enough to show that Rabelais was not without seriousness of +character. But he was much more a merry-andrew than a pattern monk. He +made interest enough with influential friends to get himself transferred +from the Franciscans to the Benedictines, an order more favorable to +studious pursuits. But neither among the Benedictines was this +roistering spirit at ease. He left them irregularly, but managed to +escape punishment for his irregularity. At last, after various +vicissitudes of occupation, he settled down as curate of Meudon, where +(the place, however, is doubtful, as also the date) in 1553 he died. He +was past fifty years of age before he finished the work which has made +him famous. + +This work is "The Life of Gargantua and Pantagruel," a grotesque and +nondescript production, founded, probably, on some prior romance or +traditionary tale of giants. The narrative of Rabelais is a tissue of +adventures shocking every idea of verisimilitude, and serving only as a +vehicle for the strange humor of the writer. The work is replete with +evidences of Rabelais's learning. It would be useless to attempt giving +any abstract or analysis of a book which is simply a wild chaos of +material jumbled together with little regard to logic, order, or method +of whatever sort. We shall better represent its character by giving a +few specimen extracts. + +Rabelais begins his romance characteristically. According as you +understand him here, you judge the spirit of the whole work. Either he +now gives you a clew by which, amid the mazes of apparent sheer +frivolity on his part, you may follow till you win your way to some +veiled serious meaning that he had all the time, but never dared frankly +avow; or else he is playfully misleading you on a false scent, which, +however long held to, will bring you out nowhere--in short, is quizzing +you. Let the reader judge for himself. Here is the opening passage--the +"Author's Prologue," it is called in the English translation executed by +Sir Thomas Urquhart and Motteaux; a version, by the way, which, with +whatever faults of too much freedom, is the work of minds and +consciences singularly sympathetic with the genius of the original; the +English student is perhaps hardly at all at disadvantage, in comparison +with the French, for the full appreciation of Rabelais: + + Most noble and illustrious drinkers, and you thrice precious pockified + blades (for to you, and none else, do I dedicate my writings), + Alcibiades, in that dialogue of Plato's which is entitled "The + Banquet," whilst he was setting forth the praises of his schoolmaster + Socrates (without all question the prince of philosophers), amongst + other discourses to that purpose said that he resembled the Sileni. + Sileni of old were little boxes, like those we now may see in the + shops of apothecaries, painted on the outside with wanton toyish + figures, as harpies, satyrs, bridled geese, horned hares, saddled + ducks, flying goats, thiller harts, and other such counterfeited + pictures, at pleasure, to excite people unto laughter, as Silenus + himself, who was the foster-father of good Bacchus, was wont to do; + but within those capricious caskets called Sileni, were carefully + preserved and kept many rich and fine drugs, such as balm, + ambergreese, amomon, musk, civet, with several kinds of precious + stones, and other things of great price. Just such another thing was + Socrates; for to have eyed his outside, and esteemed of him by his + exterior appearance, you would not have given the peel of an onion for + him, so deformed he was in body, and ridiculous in his gesture.... + Opening this box you would have found within it a heavenly and + inestimable drug, a more than human understanding, an admirable + virtue, matchless learning, invincible courage, inimitable sobriety, + certain contentment of mind, perfect assurance, and an incredible + disregard of all that for which men commonly do so much watch, run, + sail, fight, travel, toil and turmoil themselves. + + Whereunto (in your opinion) doth this little flourish of a preamble + tend? For so much as you, my good disciples, and some other jolly + fools of ease and leisure, ... are too ready to judge, that there is + nothing in them [Rabelais's writings] but jests, mockeries, lascivious + discourse, and recreative lies; ... therefore is it, that you must + open the book, and seriously consider of the matter treated in it. + Then shall you find that it containeth things of far higher value than + the box did promise; that is to say, that the subject thereof is not + so foolish, as by the title at the first sight it would appear to be. + + ... Did you ever see a dog with a marrow-bone in his mouth? ... Like + him, you must, by a sedulous lecture [reading], and frequent + meditation, break the bone, and suck out the marrow; that is, my + allegorical sense, or the things I to myself propose to be signified + by these Pythagorical symbols; ... the most glorious doctrines and + dreadful mysteries, as well in what concerneth our religion, as + matters of the public state and life economical. + +Up to this point the candid reader has probably been conscious of a +growing persuasion that this author must be at bottom a serious if also +a humorous man--a man, therefore, excusably intent not to be +misunderstood as a mere buffoon. But now let the candid reader proceed +with the following, and confess, upon his honor, if he is not +scandalized and perplexed. What shall be said of a writer who thus plays +with his reader? + + Do you believe, upon your conscience, that Homer, whilst he was + couching his Iliad and Odyssey, had any thought upon those allegories + which Plutarch, Heraclides Ponticus, Eustathius, Phornutus, squeezed + out of him, and which Politian filched again from them? If you trust + it, with neither hand nor foot do you come near to my opinion, which + judgeth them to have been as little dreamed of by Homer, as the + gospel sacraments were by Ovid, in his Metamorphoses; though a certain + gulligut friar, and true bacon-picker, would have undertaken to prove + it if, perhaps, he had met with as very fools as himself, and, as the + proverb says, "a lid worthy of such a kettle." + + If you give any credit thereto, why do not you the same to these + jovial new Chronicles of mine? Albeit, when I did dictate them, I + thought thereof no more than you, who possibly were drinking the + whilst, as I was. For, in the composing of this lordly book, I never + lost nor bestowed any more, nor any other time, than what was + appointed to serve me for taking of my bodily refection; that is, + whilst I was eating and drinking. And, indeed, that is the fittest and + most proper hour, wherein to write these high matters and deep + sentences; as Homer knew very well, the paragon of all philologues, + and Ennius, the father of the Latin poets, as Horace calls him, + although a certain sneaking jobbernol alleged that his verses smelled + more of the wine than oil. + +Does this writer quiz his reader, or, in good faith, give him a needed +hint? Who shall decide? + +We have let our first extract thus run on to some length, both for the +reason that the passage is as representative as any we could properly +offer of the quality of Rabelais, and also for the reason that the key +of interpretation is here placed in the hand of the reader, for +unlocking the enigma of this remarkable book. The extraordinary +horse-play of pleasantry, which makes Rabelais unreadable for the +general public of to-day, begins so promptly, affecting the very +prologue, that we could not present even that piece of writing entire in +our extract. We are informed that the circulation in England of the +works of Rabelais, in translation, has been interfered with by the +English government, on the ground of their indecency. We are bound to +admit that, if any writings whatever were to be suppressed on that +ground, the writings of Rabelais are certainly entitled to be of the +number. It is safe to say that never, no, not even in the boundless +license of the comedy of Aristophanes, was more flagrant indecency, and +indecency proportionately more redundant in volume, perpetrated in +literature, than was done by Rabelais. Indecency, however, it is, rather +than strict lasciviousness. Rabelais sinned against manners more than he +sinned against morals. But his obscenity is an ocean, without bottom or +shore. Literally, he sticks at nothing that is coarse. Nay, this is +absurdly short of expressing the fact. The genius of Rabelais teems with +invention of coarseness, beyond what any one could conceive as possible, +who had not taken his measure of possibility from Rabelais himself. And +his diction was as opulent as his invention. + +Such is the character of Rabelais the author. What, then, was it, if not +fondness for paradox, that could prompt Coleridge to say, "I could write +a treatise in praise of the moral elevation of Rabelais's works, which +would make the church stare and the conventicle groan, and yet would be +truth, and nothing but the truth?" If any thing besides fondness for +paradox inspired Coleridge in saying this, it must, one would guess, +have been belief on his part in an allegorical sense hidden deep +underneath the monstrous mass of the Rabelaisian buffoonery. A more +judicious sentence is that of Hallam, the historian of the literature of +Europe: "He [Rabelais] is never serious in a single page, and seems to +have had little other aim, in his first two volumes, than to pour out +the exuberance of his animal gayety." + +The supply of animal gayety in this man was something portentous. One +cannot, however, but feel that he forces it sometimes, as sometimes did +Dickens those exhaustless animal spirits of his. A very common trick of +the Rabelaisian humor is to multiply specifications, or alternative +expressions, one after another, almost without end. From the second book +of his romance--an afterthought, probably, of continuation to his +unexpectedly successful first book--we take the last paragraph of the +prologue, which shows this. The veracious historian makes obtestation of +the strict truth of his narrative, and imprecates all sorts of evil upon +such as do not believe it absolutely. We cleanse our extract a little: + + And, therefore, to make an end of this Prologue, even as I give myself + to an hundred thousand panniers-full of fair devils, body and soul, + ... in case that I lie so much as one single word in this whole + history; after the like manner, St. Anthony's fire burn you, Mahoom's + disease whirl you, the squinance with a stitch in your side, and the + wolf in your stomach truss you, the bloody flux seize upon you, the + cursed sharp inflammations of wild fire, as slender and thin as cow's + hair strengthened with quicksilver, enter into you, ... and, like + those of Sodom and Gomorrha, may you fall into sulphur, fire, and + bottomless pits, in case you do not firmly believe all that I shall + relate unto you in this present Chronicle. + +So much for Rabelais's prologues. Our readers must now see something of +what, under pains and penalties denounced so dire, they are bound to +believe. We condense and defecate for this purpose the thirty-eighth +chapter of the first book, which is staggeringly entitled, "How +Gargantua did eat up Six Pilgrims in a Sallad:" + + The story requireth that we relate that which happened unto six + pilgrims, who came from Sebastian near to Nantes; and who, for shelter + that night, being afraid of the enemy, had hid themselves in the + garden upon the chickling peas, among the cabbages and lettuces. + Gargantua, finding himself somewhat dry, asked whether they could get + any lettuce to make him a sallad; and, hearing that there were the + greatest and fairest in the country--for they were as great as plum + trees, or as walnut trees--he would go thither himself, and brought + thence in his hand what he thought good, and withal carried away the + six pilgrims, who were in so great fear that they did not dare to + speak nor cough. Washing them, therefore, first at the fountain, the + pilgrims said one to another, softly, "What shall we do? We are almost + drowned here amongst these lettuce: shall we speak? But if we speak, + he will kill us for spies." And, as they were thus deliberating what + to do, Gargantua put them, with the lettuce, into a platter of the + house, as large as the huge tun of the White Friars of the Cistercian + order; which done, with oil, vinegar, and salt, he ate them up to + refresh himself a little before supper, and had already swallowed up + five of the pilgrims, the sixth being in the platter, totally hid + under a lettuce, except his bourdon, or staff, that appeared, and + nothing else. Which Grangousier [Gargantua's father] seeing, said to + Gargantua, "I think that is the horn of a shell snail: do not eat it." + "Why not?" said Gargantua; "they are good all this month:" which he no + sooner said, but, drawing up the staff, and therewith taking up the + pilgrim, he ate him very well, then drank a terrible draught of + excellent white wine. The pilgrims, thus devoured, made shift to save + themselves, as well as they could, by drawing their bodies out of the + reach of the grinders of his teeth, but could not escape from thinking + they had been put in the lowest dungeon of a prison. And, when + Gargantua whiffed the great draught, they thought to have drowned in + his mouth, and the flood of wine had almost carried them away into + the gulf of his stomach. Nevertheless, skipping with their bourdons, + as St. Michael's palmers used to do, they sheltered themselves from + the danger of that inundation under the banks of his teeth. But one of + them, by chance, groping, or sounding the country with his staff, to + try whether they were in safety or no, struck hard against the cleft + of a hollow tooth, and hit the mandibulary sinew or nerve of the jaw, + which put Gargantua to very great pain, so that he began to cry for + the rage that he felt. To ease himself, therefore, of his smarting + ache, he called for his tooth-picker, and, rubbing towards a young + walnut-tree, where they lay skulking, unnestled you, my gentleman + pilgrims. For he caught one by the legs, another by the scrip, another + by the pocket, another by the scarf, another by the band of the + breeches; and the poor fellow that had hurt him with the bourdon, him + he hooked to by [another part of his clothes].... The pilgrims, thus + dislodged, ran away. + +Rabelais closes his story with jocose irreverent application of +Scripture--a manner of his which gives some color to the tradition of a +biblical pun made by him on his death-bed. + +The closest English analogue to Rabelais is undoubtedly Dean Swift. We +probably never should have had "Gulliver's Travels" from Swift if we had +not first had Gargantua and Pantagruel from Rabelais. Swift, however, +contrasts Rabelais as well as resembles him. Whereas Rabelais is simply +monstrous in invention, Swift in invention submits himself loyally to +law. Give Swift his world of Lilliput and Brobdingnag respectively, and +all, after that, is quite natural and probable. The reduction or the +exaggeration is made upon a mathematically calculated scale. For such +verisimilitude Rabelais cares not a straw. His various inventions are +recklessly independent one of another. A characteristic of Swift thus is +scrupulous conformity to whimsical law. Rabelais is remarkable for +whimsical disregard of even his own whimseys. Voltaire put the matter +with his usual felicity--Swift is Rabelais in his senses. + +One of the most celebrated--justly celebrated--of Rabelais's +imaginations is that of the Abbey of Thélème [Thelema]. This constitutes +a kind of Rabelaisian Utopia. It was proper of the released monk to give +his Utopian dream the form of an abbey, but of an abbey in which the +opposite should obtain of all that he had so heartily hated in his own +monastic experience. A humorously impossible place and state was the +Abbey of Thélème--a kind of sportive Brook Farm set far away in a world +unrealized. How those Thelemites enjoyed life, to be sure! It was like +endless plum pudding--for every body to eat, and nobody to prepare: + + 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 offer to constrain them to eat, drink, nor to 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, + + DO WHAT THOU WILT. + + ... By this liberty they entered into a very laudable emulation, to do + all of them what they saw did please one. If any of the gallants or + ladies should say, Let us drink, they would all drink. If any one of + them said, Let us play, they all played. If one said, Let us go + a-walking into the fields, they went all.... There was neither he nor + she amongst them but could read, write, sing, play upon several + musical instruments, speak five or six several languages, and compose + in them all very quaintly, both in verse and prose. Never were seen so + valiant knights, so noble and worthy, so dextrous and skilful both on + foot and a horseback, more brisk and lively, more nimble and quick, or + better handling all manner of weapons than were there. Never were seen + ladies so proper and handsome, so miniard and dainty, less forward, or + more ready with their hand and with their needle, in every honest and + free action belonging to that sex, than were there. For this reason, + when the time came, that any man of the said abbey, either at the + request of his parents, or for some other cause, had a mind to go out + of it, he carried along with him one of the ladies, namely her who had + before that accepted him as her lover, and they were married together. + +The foregoing is one of the most purely sweet imaginative passages in +Rabelais's works. The representation, as a whole, sheathes, of course, a +keen satire on the religious houses. Real religion Rabelais nowhere +attacks. + +The same colossal Gargantua who had that eating adventure with the six +pilgrims is made, in Rabelais's second book, to write his youthful son +Pantagruel--also a giant, but destined to be, when mature, a model of +all princely virtues--a letter on education, in which the most pious +paternal exhortation occurs. The whole letter reads like some learned +Puritan divine's composition. Here are a few specimen sentences:-- + + Fail not most carefully to peruse the books of the Greek, Arabian, and + Latin physicians, not despising the Talmudists and Cabalists; and by + frequent anatomies get thee the perfect knowledge of that other world, + called the microcosm, which is man. And at some of the hours of the + day apply thy mind to the study of the Holy Scriptures: first, in + Greek, the New Testament, with the Epistles of the Apostles; and then + the Old Testament in Hebrew. In brief, let me see thee an abyss and + bottomless pit of knowledge.... + + ... It behooveth thee to serve, to love, to fear God, and on him to + cast all thy thoughts and all thy hope, and, by faith formed in + charity, to cleave unto him, so that thou mayest never be separated + from him by thy sins. Suspect the abuses of the world. Set not thy + heart upon vanity, for this life is transitory; but the Word of the + Lord endureth forever. + +"Friar John" is a mighty man of valor, who figures equivocally in the +story of Gargantua and Pantagruel. The Abbey of Thélème is given him in +reward of his services. Some have identified this fighting monk with +Martin Luther. The representation is, on the whole, so conducted as to +leave the reader's sympathies at least half enlisted in favor of the +fellow, rough and roistering as he is. + +Panurge is the hero of the romance of Pantagruel,--almost more than +Pantagruel himself. It would be unpardonable to dismiss Rabelais without +first making our readers know Panurge by, at least, a few traits of his +character and conduct. Panurge was a shifty but unscrupulous adventurer, +whom Pantagruel, pious prince as he was, coming upon him by chance, took +and kept under his patronage. Panurge was an arch-imp of +mischief---mischief indulged in the form of obscene and malicious +practical jokes. Rabelais describes his accomplishments in a long strain +of discourse, from which we purge our selection to follow--thereby +transforming Panurge into a comparatively proper and virtuous person: + + He had threescore and three tricks to come by it [money] at his need + of which the most honorable and most ordinary was in manner of + thieving, secret purloining, and filching, for he was a wicked, lewd + rogue, a cozener, drinker, roisterer, rover, and a very dissolute and + debauched fellow, if there were any in Paris; otherwise, and in all + matters else, the best and most virtuous man in the world; and he was + still contriving some plot, and devising mischief against the + sergeants and the watch. + + At one time he assembled three or four especial good hacksters and + roaring boys; made them in the evening drink like Templars, afterward + led them till they came under St. Genevieve, or about the college of + Navarre, and, at the hour that the watch was coming up that way--which + he knew by putting his sword upon the pavement, and his ear by it, + and, when he heard his sword shake, it was an infallible sign that the + watch was near at that instant--then he and his companions took a + tumbrel or garbage-cart, and gave it the brangle, hurling it with all + their force down the hill, and then ran away upon the other side; for + in less than two days he knew all the streets, lanes, and turnings in + Paris as well as his _Deus det_. + + At another time he laid, in some fair place where the said watch was + to pass, a train of gunpowder, and, at the very instant that they went + along, set fire to it, and then made himself sport to see what good + grace they had in running away, thinking that St. Anthony's fire had + caught them by the legs.... In one of his pockets he had a great many + little horns full of fleas and lice, which he borrowed from the + beggars of St. Innocent, and cast them, with small canes or quills to + write with, into the necks of the daintiest gentlewomen that he could + find, yea, even in the church; for he never seated himself above in + the choir, but always in the body of the church amongst the women, + both at mass, at vespers, and at sermon. + +Coleridge, in his metaphysical way, keen at the moment on the scent of +illustrations for the philosophy of Kant, said, "Pantagruel is the +Reason; Panurge the Understanding." Rabelais himself, in the fourth book +of his romance, written in the last years of his life, defines the +spirit of the work. This fourth book, the English translator says, is +"justly thought his masterpiece." The same authority adds with +enthusiasm, "Being wrote with more spirit, salt, and flame than the +first part." Here, then, is Rabelais's own expression, sincere or +jocular, as you choose to take it, for what constitutes the essence of +his writing. We quote from the "Prologue:" + + By the means of a little Pantagruelism (which, you know, is _a certain + jollity of mind, pickled in the scorn of fortune_), you see me now + ["at near seventy years of age," his translator says], hale and + cheery, as sound as a bell, and ready to drink, if you will. + +It is impossible to exaggerate the mad, rollicking humor, sticking at +nothing, either in thought or in expression, with which especially this +last book of Rabelais's work is written. But we have no more space for +quotation. + +Coleridge's theory of interpretation for Rabelais's writings is hinted +in his "Table Talk," as follows: "After any particularly deep thrust ... +Rabelais, as if to break the blow and to appear unconscious of what he +has done, writes a chapter or two of pure buffoonery." + +The truth seems to us to be, that Rabelais's supreme taste, like his +supreme power, lay in the line of humorous satire. He hated monkery, and +he satirized the system as openly as he dared--this, however, not so +much in the love of truth and freedom as in pure fondness for exercising +his wit. That he was more than willing to make his ribald drollery the +fool's mask from behind which he might aim safely his shafts of ridicule +at what he despised and hated is, indeed, probable. But in this is +supplied to him no sufficient excuse for his obscene and blasphemous +pleasantry. Nor yet are the manners of the age an excuse sufficient. +Erasmus belonged to the same age, and he disliked the monks not less. +But what a contrast, in point of decency, between Rabelais and Erasmus. + + + + +IV. + +MONTAIGNE. + +1533-1592. + + +Montaigne is signally the author of one book. His "Essays" are the whole +of him. He wrote letters, to be sure, and he wrote journals of travel +undertaken in quest of health and pleasure. But these are chiefly void +of interest. Montaigne the Essayist alone is emphatically the Montaigne +that survives. "Montaigne the Essayist"--that has become, as it were, a +personal name in literary history. + +The "Essays" are one hundred and seven in number, distributed in three +books. They are very unequal in length: and they are on the most various +topics--topics often the most whimsical in character. We give a few of +his titles, taking them as found in Cotton's translation: + + That men by various ways arrive at the same end; Whether the governor + of a place ought himself to go out to parley; Of liars; Of quick or + slow speech; A proceeding of some ambassadors; Various events from the + same counsel; Of cannibals; That we laugh and cry from the same thing; + Of smell; That the mind hinders itself; Of thumbs; Of virtue; Of + coaches; Of managing the will; Of cripples; Of experience. + +Montaigne's titles cannot be trusted to indicate the nature of the +essays to which they belong. The author's pen will not be bound. It runs +on at its own pleasure. Things the most unexpected are incessantly +turning up in Montaigne--things, probably, that were as unexpected to +the writer when he was writing as they will be to the reader when he is +reading. The writing, on whatever topic, in whatever vein, always +revolves around the writer for its pivot. Montaigne, from no matter what +apparent diversion, may constantly be depended upon to bring up in due +time at himself. The tether is long and elastic, but it is tenacious, +and it is securely tied to Montaigne. This, as we shall presently let +the author himself make plain, is no accident of which Montaigne was +unconscious. It is the express idea on which the "Essays" were written. +Montaigne, in his "Essays," is a pure and perfect egotist, naked and not +ashamed. Egotism is Montaigne's note, his _differentia_, in the world of +literature. Other literary men have been egotists--since. But Montaigne +may be called the first, and he is the greatest; by no means the most +monstrous, but the greatest. + +Montaigne was a Gascon, and Gasconisms adulterate the purity of his +French. But his style--a little archaic now, and never finished to the +nail--had virtues of its own which have exercised a wholesome influence +on classic French prose. It is simple, direct, manly, genuine. It is +fresh and racy of the writer. It is flexible to every turn, it is +sensitive to every rise or fall, of the thought. It is a steadfast +rebuke to rant and fustian. It quietly laughs to scorn the folly of that +style which writhes in an agony of expression, with neither thought nor +feeling present to be expressed. Montaigne's "Essays" have been a great +and a beneficent formative force in the development of prose style in +French. + +For substance, Montaigne is rich in practical wisdom, his own by +original reflection or by discreet purveyal. He had read much, he had +observed much, he had experienced much. The result of all, digested in +brooding thought, he put into his "Essays." These grew as he grew. He +got himself transferred whole into them. Out of them, in turn, the world +has been busy ever since dissolving Montaigne. + +Montaigne's "Essays" are, as we have said, himself. Such is his own way +of putting the fact. To one admiring his essays to him, he frankly +replied, "You will like me if you like my essays, for they are myself." +The originality, the creative character and force of the "Essays" lies +in this autobiographical quality in them. Their fascination, too, +consists in the revelation they contain. This was, first, +self-revelation on the part of the writer; but no less it becomes, in +each case, self-revelation in the experience of the reader. For, as face +answereth to face in the glass, so doth the heart of man to man--from +race to race and from generation to generation. If Montaigne, in his +"Essays," held the mirror up to himself, he, in the same act, held up +the mirror to you and to me. The image that we, reading, call Montaigne, +is really ourselves. We never tire of gazing on it. We are all of us +Narcissuses. This is why Montaigne is an immortal and a universal +writer. + +Here is Montaigne's preface to his "Essays"--"The Author to the Reader," +it is entitled: + + Reader, thou hast here an honest book; it doth at the outset forewarn + thee that, in contriving the same, I have proposed to myself no other + than a domestic and private end: I have had no consideration at all + either to thy service or to my glory. My powers are not capable of any + such design. I have dedicated it to the particular commodity of my + kinsfolk and friends, so that, having lost me (which they must do + shortly), they may therein recover some traits of my conditions and + humours, and by that means preserve more whole, and more life-like, + the knowledge they had of me. Had my intention been to seek the + world's favor, I should surely have adorned myself with borrowed + beauties. I desire therein to be viewed as I appear in mine own + genuine, simple, and ordinary manner, without study and artifice; for + it is myself I paint. My defects are therein to be read to the life, + and my imperfections and my natural form, so far as public reverence + hath permitted me. If I had lived among those nations which (they say) + yet dwell under the sweet liberty of nature's primitive laws, I assure + thee I would most willingly have painted myself quite fully, and quite + naked. Thus, reader, myself am the matter of my book. There's no + reason thou shouldst employ thy leisure about so frivolous and vain a + subject. Therefore, farewell. + + From Montaigne, the 12th of June, 1580. + +Michel Eyquem de Montaigne, our author, as the foregoing date will have +suggested, derived his most familiar name from the place at which he was +born and at which he lived. Readers are not to take too literally +Montaigne's notice of his dispensing with "borrowed beauties." He was, +in fact, a famous borrower. He himself warns his readers to be careful +how they criticise him; they may be flouting unawares Seneca, Plutarch, +or some other, equally redoubtable, of the reverend ancients. Montaigne +is perhaps as signal an example as any in literature of the man of +genius exercising his prescriptive right to help himself to his own +wherever he may happen to find it. But Montaigne has in turn been freely +borrowed from. Bacon borrowed from him, Shakespeare borrowed from him, +Dryden, Pope, Hume, Burke, Byron--these, with many more, in England; +and, in France, Pascal, La Rochefoucauld, Voltaire, Rousseau--directly +or indirectly, almost every writer since his day. No modern writer, +perhaps, has gone in solution into subsequent literature more widely +than Montaigne. But no writer remains more solidly and insolubly entire. + +We go at once to chapter twenty-five of the first book of the "Essays," +entitled, in the English translation, "On the Education of Children." +The translation we use henceforth throughout is the classic one of +Charles Cotton, in a text of it edited by Mr. William Carew Hazlitt. The +"preface," already given, Cotton omitted to translate. We have allowed +Mr. Hazlitt to supply the deficiency. Montaigne addresses his +educational views to a countess. Several others of his essays are +similarly inscribed to women. Mr. Emerson's excuse of Montaigne for his +coarseness--that he wrote for a generation in which women were not +expected to be readers--is thus seen to be curiously impertinent to the +actual case that existed. Of a far worse fault in Montaigne than his +coarseness--we mean his outright immorality--Mr. Emerson makes no +mention, and for it, therefore, provides no excuse. We shall ourselves, +in due time, deal more openly with our readers on this point. + +It was for a "boy of quality" that Montaigne aimed to adapt his +suggestions on the subject of education. In this happy country of ours +all boys are boys of quality; and we shall go nowhere amiss in selecting +from the present essay: + + For a boy of quality, then, I say, I would also have his friends + solicitous to find him out a tutor who has rather a well-made than a + well-filled head, seeking, indeed, both the one and the other, but + rather of the two to prefer manners and judgment to mere learning, and + that this man should exercise his charge after a new method. + + 'Tis the custom of pedagogues to be eternally thundering in their + pupil's ears, as they were pouring into a funnel, whilst the business + of the pupil is only to repeat what the others have said: now, I + would have a tutor to correct this error, and that, at the very first, + he should, according to the capacity he has to deal with, put it to + the test, permitting his pupil himself to taste things, and of himself + to discern and choose them, sometimes opening the way to him, and + sometimes leaving him to open it for himself; that is, I would not + have him alone to invent and speak, but that he should also hear his + pupil speak in turn.... Let him make him put what he has learned into + a hundred several forms, and accommodate it to so many several + subjects, to see if he yet rightly comprehends it, and has made it his + own.... 'Tis a sign of crudity and indigestion to disgorge what we eat + in the same condition it was swallowed: the stomach has not performed + its office, unless it have altered the form and condition of what was + committed to it to concoct.... + + Let him make him examine and thoroughly sift every thing he reads and + lodge nothing in his fancy upon simple authority and upon trust, + Aristotle's principles will then be no more principles to him than + those of Epicurus and the stoics: let this diversity of opinions be + propounded to, and laid before, him; he will himself choose, if he be + able; if not, he will remain in doubt. + + "Che, non men che saper, dubbiar m'aggrata." + + DANTE, _Inferno_, xl, 93. + + ["That doubting pleases me, not less than knowing." + + LONGFELLOW'S _Translation_.] + + For, if he embrace the opinions of Xenophon and Plato, by his own + reason they will no more be theirs, but become his own. Who follows + another follows nothing, finds nothing, nay, is inquisitive after + nothing. "Non sumus sub rege; sibi quisque se vindicet." ["We are + under no king; let each look to himself."--SENECA, _Ep._ 33.] Let him, + at least, know that he knows. It will be necessary that he imbibe + their knowledge, not that he be corrupted with their precepts; and no + matter if he forget where he had his learning, provided he know how to + apply it to his own use. Truth and reason are common to every one, and + are no more his who spake them first, than his who speaks them after; + 'tis no more according to Plato, than according to me, since both he + and I equally see and understand them. Bees cull their several sweets + from this flower and that blossom, here and there where they find + them; but themselves afterward make the honey, which is all and purely + their own, and no more thyme and marjoram: so the several fragments he + borrows from others he will transform and shuffle together, to compile + a work that shall be absolutely his own; that is to say, his judgment: + his instruction, labor, and study tend to nothing else but to form + that.... Conversation with men is of very great use, and travel into + foreign countries, ... to be able chiefly to give an account of the + humors, manners, customs, and laws of those nations where he has been, + and that we may whet and sharpen our wits by rubbing them against + those of others.... + + In this conversing with men, I mean also, and principally, those who + live only in the records of history: he shall, by reading those books, + converse with the great and heroic souls of the best ages. + +It is difficult to find a stopping-place in discourse so wise and so +sweet. We come upon sentences like Plato for height and for beauty. An +example: "The most manifest sign of wisdom is a continual cheerfulness; +her state is like that of things in the regions above the moon, always +clear and serene." But the genius of Montaigne does not often soar, +though even one little flight like that shows that it has wings. +Montaigne's garnishes of quotation from foreign tongues are often a +cold-blooded device of afterthought with him. His first edition was +without them in many places where subsequently they appear. Readers +familiar with Emerson will be reminded of him in perusing Montaigne. +Emerson himself said, "It seemed to me [in reading the 'Essays' of +Montaigne], as if I myself had written the book in some former life, so +sincerely it spoke to my thoughts and experience." The rich old English +of Cotton's translation had evidently a strong influence on Emerson, to +mold his own style of expression. Emerson's trick of writing "'tis," was +apparently caught from Cotton. The following sentence, from the present +essay of Montaigne, might very well have served Mr. Emerson for his own +rule of writing: "Let it go before, or come after, a good sentence, or a +thing well said, is always in season; if it neither suit well with what +went before, nor has much coherence with what follows after, it is good +in itself." Montaigne, at any rate, wrote his "Essays" on that easy +principle. The logic of them is the logic of mere chance association in +thought. But, with Montaigne--whatever is true of Emerson--the +association at least is not occult; and it is such as pleases the reader +not less than it pleased the writer. So this Gascon gentleman of the +olden time never tires us, and never loses us out of his hand. We go +with him cheerfully where he so blithely leads. + +Montaigne tells us how he was himself trained under his father. The +elder Montaigne, too, had his ideas on education--the subject which his +son, in this essay, so instructively treats. The essayist leads up to +his autobiographical episode by an allusion to the value of the +classical languages, and to the question of method in studying them. He +says: + + In my infancy, and before I began to speak, he [my father] committed + me to the care of a German,... totally ignorant of our language, but + very fluent, and a great critic, in Latin. This man, whom he had + fetched out of his own country, and whom he entertained with a very + great salary, for this only end, had me continually with him: to him + there were also joined two others, of inferior learning, to attend me, + and to relieve him, who all of them spoke to me in no other language + but Latin. As to the rest of his family, it was an inviolable rule, + that neither himself nor my mother, man nor maid, should speak any + thing in my company but such Latin words as every one had learned only + to gabble with me. It is not to be imagined how great an advantage + this proved to the whole family: my father and my mother by this means + learned Latin enough to understand it perfectly well, and to speak it + to such a degree as was sufficient for any necessary use, as also + those of the servants did who were most frequently with me. In short, + we Latined it at such a rate that it overflowed to all the neighboring + villages, where there yet remain, that have established themselves by + custom, several Latin appellations of artisans and their tools. As for + what concerns myself, I was above six years of age before I understood + either French or Perigordin ["Perigordin" is Montaigne's name for the + dialect of his province, Perigord (Gascony)], any more than Arabic; + and, without art, book, grammar, or precept, whipping, or the expense + of a tear, I had, by that time, learned to speak as pure Latin as my + master himself, for I had no means of mixing it up with any other. + +We are now to see how, helped by his wealth, the father was able to +gratify a pleasant whimsey of his own in the nurture of his boy. Highly +æsthetic was the matin _réveille_ that broke the slumbers of this +hopeful young heir of Montaigne: + + Some being of opinion that it troubles and disturbs the brains of + children suddenly to wake them in the morning, and to snatch them + violently and over-hastily from sleep, wherein they are much more + profoundly involved than we, he [the father] caused me to be wakened + by the sound of some musical instrument, and was never unprovided of a + musician for that purpose.... The good man, being extremely timorous + of any way failing in a thing he had so wholly set his heart upon, + suffered himself at last to be overruled by the common opinions:... + he sent me, at six years of age, to the College of Guienne, at that + time the best and most flourishing in France. + +In short, as in the case of Mr. Tulliver, the world was "too many" for +Eyquem _père_; and, in the education of his son, the stout Gascon, +having started out well as dissenter, fell into dull conformity at last. + +We ought to give some idea of the odd instances, classic and other, with +which Montaigne plentifully bestrews his pages. He is writing of the +"Force of Imagination." He says: + + A woman, fancying she had swallowed a pin in a piece of bread, cried + and lamented as though she had an intolerable pain in her throat, + where she thought she felt it stick; but an ingenious fellow that was + brought to her, seeing no outward tumor nor alteration, supposing it + to be only a conceit taken at some crust of bread that had hurt her as + it went down, caused her to vomit, and, unseen, threw a crooked pin + into the basin, which the woman no sooner saw, but, believing she had + cast it up, she presently found herself eased of her pain.... + + Such as are addicted to the pleasures of the field have, I make no + question, heard the story of the falconer, who, having earnestly fixed + his eyes upon a kite in the air, laid a wager that he would bring her + down with the sole power of his sight, and did so, as it was said; for + _the tales I borrow, I charge upon the consciences of those from whom + I have them_. + +We italicize the last foregoing words, to make readers see that +Montaigne is not to be read for the truth of his instances. He uses what +comes to hand. He takes no trouble to verify. "The discourses are my +own," he says; but even this, as we have hinted, must not be pressed too +hard in interpretation. Whether a given reflection of Montaigne's is +strictly his own, in the sense of not having been first another's, who +gave it to him, is not to be determined except upon very wide reading, +very well remembered, in all the books that Montaigne could have got +under his eye. That was full fairly his own, he thought, which he had +made his own by intelligent appropriation. And this, perhaps, expresses +in general the sound law of property in the realm of mind. At any rate, +Montaigne will wear no yoke of fast obligation. He will write as pleases +him. Above all things else, he likes his freedom. + +Here is one of those sagacious historical scepticisms, in which +Montaigne was so fond of poising his mind between opposite views. It +occurs in his essay entitled, "Of the Uncertainty of our Judgments:" + + Amongst other oversights Pompey is charged withal at the battle of + Pharsalia, he is condemned for making his army stand still to receive + the enemy's charge, "by reason that" (I shall here steal Plutarch's + own words, which are better than mine) "he by so doing deprived + himself of the violent impression the motion of running adds to the + first shock of arms, and hindered that clashing of the combatants + against one another, which is wont to give them greater impetuosity + and fury, especially when they come to rush in with their utmost + vigor, their courages increasing by the shouts and the career; 'tis to + render the soldiers' ardor, as a man may say, more reserved and cold." + This is what he says. But, if Cæsar had come by the worse, why might + it not as well have been urged by another, that, on the contrary, the + strongest and most steady posture of fighting is that wherein a man + stands planted firm, without motion; and that they who are steady upon + the march, closing up, and reserving their force within themselves for + the push of the business, have a great advantage against those who are + disordered, and who have already spent half their breath in running on + precipitately to the charge? Besides that, an army is a body made up + of so many individual members, it is impossible for it to move in this + fury with so exact a motion as not to break the order of battle, and + that the best of them are not engaged before their fellows can come on + to help them. + +The sententiousness of Montaigne may be illustrated by transferring here +a page of brief excerpts from the "Essays," collected by Mr. Bayle St. +John in his biography of the author. The apothegmatic or proverbial +quality in Montaigne had a very important sequel of fruitful influence +on subsequent French writers, as chapters to follow in this volume will +abundantly show. In reading the sentences sub-joined, you will have the +sensation of coming suddenly upon a treasure-trove of coined proverbial +wisdom: + + Our minds are never at home, but ever beyond home. + + I will take care, if possible, that my death shall say nothing that my + life has not said. + + Life in itself is neither good nor bad: it is the place of what is + good or bad. + + Knowledge should not be stuck on to the mind, but incorporated in it. + + Irresolution seems to me the most common and apparent vice of our + nature. + + Age wrinkles the mind more than the face. + + Habit is a second nature. + + Hunger cures love. + + It is easier to get money than to keep it. + + Anger has often been the vehicle of courage. + + It is more difficult to command than to obey. + + A liar should have a good memory. + + Ambition is the daughter of presumption. + + To serve a prince, you must be discreet and a liar. + + We learn to live when life has passed. + + The mind is ill at ease when its companion has the colic. + + We are all richer than we think, but we are brought up to go + a-begging. + + The greatest masterpiece of man is ... to be born at the right time. + +We append a saying of Montaigne's not found in Mr. St. John's +collection: + + There is no so good man, who so squares all his thoughts and actions + to the laws, that he is not faulty enough to deserve hanging ten times + in his life. + +Montaigne was too intensely an egotist, in his character as man no less +than in his character as writer, to have many personal relations that +exhibit him in aspects engaging to our love. But one friendship of his +is memorable--is even historic. The name of La Boëtie is forever +associated with the name of Montaigne. La Boëtie is remarkable for +being, as we suppose, absolutely the first voice raised in France +against the idea of monarchy. His little treatise _Contr' Un_ +(literally, "Against One"), or "Voluntary Servitude," is by many +esteemed among the most important literary productions of modern times. +Others, again, Mr. George Saintsbury, for example, consider it an +absurdly overrated book. For our own part, we are inclined to give it +conspicuous place in the history of free thought in France. La Boëtie +died young; and his _Contr' Un_ was published posthumously--first by the +Protestants, after the terrible day of St. Bartholomew. Our readers may +judge for themselves whether a pamphlet in which such passages as the +following could occur must not have had an historic effect upon the +inflammable sentiment of the French people. We take Mr. Bayle St. John's +translation, bracketing a hint or two of correction suggested by +comparison of the original French. The treatise of La Boëtie is +sometimes now printed with Montaigne's "Essays," in French editions of +our author's works; La Boëtie says: + + You sow your fruits [crops] that he [the king] may ravage them; you + furnish and fill your houses that he may have something to steal; you + bring up your daughters that he may slake his luxury; you bring up + your sons that he may take them to be butchered in his wars, to be the + ministers of his avarice, the executors of his vengeance; you + disfigure your forms by labor [your own selves you inure to toil] that + he may cocker himself in delight, and wallow in nasty and disgusting + pleasure. + +Montaigne seems really to have loved this friend of his, whom he +reckoned the greatest man in France. His account of La Boëtie's death, +Mr. St. John boldly, and not presumptuously, parallels with the "Phædon" +of Plato. Noble writing, it certainly is, though its stateliness is a +shade too self-conscious, perhaps. + +We have thus far presented Montaigne in words of his own such as may +fairly be supposed likely to prepossess the reader in his favor. We +could multiply our extracts indefinitely in a like unexceptionable vein +of writing. But to do so, and to stop with these, would misrepresent +Montaigne. Montaigne is very far from being an innocent writer. His +moral tone generally is low, and often it is execrable. He is coarse, +but coarseness is not the worst of him. Indeed, he is cleanliness itself +compared with Rabelais. But Rabelais is morality itself compared with +Montaigne. Montaigne is corrupt and corrupting. This feature of his +writings we are necessarily forbidden to illustrate. In an essay +written in his old age--which we will not even name, its general tenor +is so evil--Montaigne holds the following language: + + I gently turn aside, and avert my eyes from the stormy and cloudy sky + I have before me, which, thanks be to God, I regard without fear, but + not without meditation and study, and amuse myself in the remembrance + of my better years: + + "Animus quod perdidit, optat, + Atque in præterita se totus imagine versat."--_Petronius_, c. 128. + + ["The mind desires what it has lost, and in fancy flings itself wholly + into the past."] + + Let childhood look forward, and age backward; is not this the + signification of Janus' double face? Let years haul me along if they + will, but it shall be backward; as long as my eyes can discern the + pleasant season expired, I shall now and then turn them that way; + though it escape from my blood and veins, I shall not, however, root + the image of it out of my memory: + + "Hoc est + Vivere bis, vita posse priore frui."--_Martial_, x. 23, 7. + + ["'Tis to live twice to be able to enjoy former life again."] + +Harmlessly, even engagingly, pensive seems the foregoing strain of +sentiment. Who could suppose it a prelude to detailed reminiscence on +the author's part of sensual pleasures--the basest--enjoyed in the past? +The venerable voluptuary keeps himself in countenance for his lascivious +vein by writing as follows: + + I have enjoined myself to dare to say all that I dare to do; even + thoughts that are not to be published displease me; the worst of my + actions and qualities do not appear to me so evil, as I find it evil + and base not to dare to own them.... + + ... I am greedy of making myself known, and I care not to how many, + provided it be truly.... Many things that I would not say to a + particular individual, I say to the people; and, as to my most secret + thoughts, send my most intimate friends to my book.... For my part, if + any one should recommend me as a good pilot, as being very modest, or + very chaste, I should owe him no thanks [because the recommendation + would be false]. + +We must leave it--as, however, Montaigne himself is far enough from +leaving it--to the imagination of readers to conjecture what "pleasures" +they are, of which this worn-out debauchee (nearing death, and thanking +God that he nears it "without fear") speaks in the following sentimental +strain: + + In farewells, we oftener than not heat our affections toward the + things we take leave of: I take my last leave of the pleasures of this + world; these are our last embraces. + +Mr. Emerson, in his "Representative Men," makes Montaigne stand for The +Skeptic. Skeptic, Montaigne was. He questioned, he considered, he +doubted. He stood poised in equilibrium, in indifference, between +contrary opinions. He saw reasons on this side, but he saw reasons also +on that, and he did not clear his mind. "_Que sçai-je?_" was his motto +("What know I?"), a question as of hopeless ignorance--nay, as of +ignorance also void of desire to know. His life was one long +interrogation, a balancing of opposites, to the end. + +Such, speculatively, was Montaigne. Such, too, speculatively, was +Pascal. The difference, however, was greater than the likeness, between +these two minds. Pascal, doubting, gave the world of spiritual things +the benefit of his doubt. Montaigne, on the other hand, gave the benefit +of his doubt to the world of sense. He was a sensualist, he was a +glutton, he was a lecher. He, for his portion, chose the good things of +this life. His body he used, to get him pleasures of the body. In +pleasures of the body he sunk and drowned his conscience, if he ever had +a conscience. But his intelligence survived. He became, at last--if he +was not such from the first--almost pure sense, without soul. + +Yet we have no doubt Montaigne was an agreeable gentleman. We think we +should have got on well with him as a neighbor of ours. He was a +tolerably decent father, provided the child were grown old enough to be +company for him. His own lawful children, while infants, had to go out +of the house for their nursing; so it not unnaturally happened that all +but one died in their infancy. Five of such is the number that you can +count in his own journalistic entries of family births and deaths. But, +in his "Essays," speaking as "moral philosopher," he says, carelessly, +that he had lost "two or three" "without repining." This, perhaps, is +affectation. But what affectation! + +Montaigne was well-to-do; and he ranked as a gentleman, if not as a +great nobleman. He lived in a castle, bequeathed to him, and by him +bequeathed--a castle still standing, and full of personal association +with its most famous owner. He occupied a room in the tower, fitted up +as a library. Over the door of this room may still, we believe, be read +Montaigne's motto, "_Que sçai-je?_" Votaries of Montaigne perform their +pious pilgrimages to this shrine of their idolatry, year after year, +century after century. + +For, remember, it is now three centuries since Montaigne wrote. He was +before Bacon and Shakespeare. He was contemporary with Charles IX., and +with Henry of Navarre. But date has little to do with such a writer as +Montaigne. His quality is sempiternal. He overlies the ages, as the long +hulk of a great steamship overlies the waves of the sea, stretching from +summit to summit. Not that, in the form of his literary work, he was +altogether independent of time and of circumstance. Not that he was +uninfluenced by his historic place, in the essential spirit of his work. +But, more than often happens, Montaigne may fairly be judged out of +himself alone. His message he might, indeed, have delivered differently; +but it would have been substantially the same message, had he been +differently placed, in the world, and in history. We need hardly, +therefore, add any thing about Montaigne's outward life. His true life +is in his book. + +Montaigne the Essayist is the consummate, the ideal, expression, +practically incapable of improvement, of the spirit and wisdom of the +world. This characterization, we think, fairly and sufficiently sums up +the good and the bad of Montaigne. We might seem to describe no very +mischievous thing. But to have the spirit and wisdom of this world +expressed, to have it expressed as in a last authoritative form, a form +to commend it, to flatter it, to justify it, to make it seem sufficient, +to erect it into a kind of gospel--that means much. It means hardly less +than to provide the world with a new Bible--a Bible of the world's own, +a Bible that shall approve itself as better than the Bible of the Old +and New Testaments. Montaigne's "Essays" constitute, in effect, such a +book. The man of the world may--and, to say truth, does--in this volume, +find all his needed texts. Here is _viaticum_--daily manna--for him, to +last the year round, and to last year after year; an inexhaustible +breviary for the church of this world! It is of the gravest historical +significance that Rabelais and Montaigne, but especially that Montaigne, +should, to such an extent, for now three full centuries, have been +furnishing the daily intellectual food of Frenchmen. + +Pascal, in an interview with M. de Saci (carefully reported by the +latter), in which the conversation was on the subject of Montaigne and +Epictetus contrasted--these two authors Pascal acknowledged to be the +ones most constantly in his hand--said gently of Montaigne, "Montaigne +is absolutely pernicious to those who have any inclination toward +irreligion, or toward vicious indulgences." We, for our part, are +disposed, speaking more broadly than Pascal, to say that, to a somewhat +numerous class of naturally dominant minds, Montaigne's "Essays" in +spite of all that there is good in them--nay, greatly because of so much +good in them--are, by their subtly insidious persuasion to evil, upon +the whole quite the most powerfully pernicious book known to us in +literature either ancient or modern. + + + + +V. + +LA ROCHEFOUCAULD: 1613-1680; La Bruyère: 1646(?)-1696; Vauvenargues: +1715-1747. + + +In La Rouchefoucauld we meet another eminent example of the author of +one book. "Letters," "Memoirs," and "Maxims," indeed name productions in +three kinds, productions all of them notable, and all still extant, from +La Rochefoucauld's pen. But the "Maxims" are so much more famous than +either the "Letters" or the "Memoirs" that their author may be said to +be known only by those. If it were not for the "Maxims," the "Letters" +and "Memoirs" would probably now be forgotten. We here may dismiss these +from our minds and concentrate our attention exclusively upon the +"Maxims." Voltaire said, "The 'Memoirs' of the Duc de La Rochefoucauld +are read, but we know his 'Maxims' by heart." + +La Rochefoucauld's "Maxims" are detached sentences of reflection and +wisdom on human character and conduct. They are about seven hundred in +number, but they are all comprised in a very small volume; for they +generally are each only two or three lines in length, and almost never +does a single maxim occupy more than the half of a moderate-sized page. +The "Maxims," detached, as we have described them, have no very marked +logical sequence in the order in which they stand. They all, however, +have a profound mutual relation. An unvarying monotone of sentiment, in +fact, runs through them. They are so many different expressions, +answering to so many different observations taken at different angles, +of one and the same persisting estimate of human nature. Self-love is +the mainspring and motive of every thing we do, or say, or feel, or +think--that is the total result of the "Maxims" of La Rochefoucauld. + +The writer's qualifications for treating his theme were unsurpassed. He +had himself the right character, moral and intellectual; his scheme of +conduct in life corresponded; he wrote in the right language--French; +and he was rightly situated in time, in place, and in circumstance. He +needed but to look closely within him and without him--which he was +gifted with eyes to do--and then report what he saw, in the language to +which he was born. This he did, and his "Maxims" are the fruit. His +method was largely the skeptical method of Montaigne. His result, too, +was much the same result as his master's. But the pupil surpassed the +master in the quality of his work. There is a fineness, an +exquisiteness, in the literary form of La Rochefoucauld, which Montaigne +might indeed have disdained to seek, but which he could never, even with +seeking, have attained. Each maxim of La Rochefoucauld is a "gem of +purest ray serene," wrought to the last degree of perfection in form +with infinite artistic pains. Purity, precision, clearness, density, +point, are perfectly reconciled in La Rochefoucauld's style with ease, +grace and brilliancy of expression. The influence of such literary +finish, well bestowed on thought worthy to receive it, has been +incalculably potent in raising the standard of French production in +prose. It was Voltaire's testimony, "One of the works which has most +contributed to form the national taste, and give it a spirit of accuracy +and precision, was the little collection of 'Maxims' by François, Duc de +La Rochefoucauld." + +There is a high-bred air about La Rochefoucauld the writer, which well +accords with the rank and character of the man La Rochefoucauld. He was +of one of the noblest families in France. His instincts were all +aristocratic. His manners and his morals were those of his class. Brave, +spirited, a touch of chivalry in him, honorable and amiable as the world +reckons of its own, La Rochefoucauld ran a career consistent throughout +with his own master-principle--self-love. He had a wife whose conjugal +fidelity her husband seems to have thought a sufficient supply in that +virtue for both himself and her. He behaved himself accordingly. His +illicit relations with other women were notorious. But they unhappily +did not make La Rochefoucauld in that respect at all peculiar among the +distinguished men of his time. His brilliant female friends collaborated +with him in working out his "Maxims." These were the labor of years. +They were published in successive editions, during the lifetime of the +author; and some final maxims were added from his manuscripts after his +death. + +Using for the purpose a very recent translation, that of A. S. Bolton +(which, in one or two places, we venture to conform more exactly to the +sense of the original), we give almost at hazard a few specimens of +these celebrated apothegms. We adopt the numbering given in the best +Paris edition of the "Maxims": + + No. 11. The passions often beget their contraries. Avarice sometimes + produces prodigality, and prodigality avarice: we are often firm from + weakness, and daring from timidity. + + No. 13. Our self-love bears more impatiently the condemnation of our + tastes than of our opinions. + +How much just such detraction from all mere natural human greatness is +contained in the following penetrative maxim: + + No. 18. Moderation is a fear of falling into the envy and contempt + which those deserve who are intoxicated with their good fortune; it is + a vain parade of the strength of our mind; and, in short, the + moderation of men in their highest elevation is a desire to appear + greater than their fortune. + +What effectively quiet satire in these few words: + + No. 19. We have strength enough to bear the ills of others. + +This man had seen the end of all perfection in the apparently great of +this world. He could not bear that such should flaunt a false plume +before their fellows: + + No. 20. The steadfastness of sages is only the art of locking up their + uneasiness in their hearts. + +Of course, had it lain in the author's chosen line to do so, he might, +with as much apparent truth, have pointed out, that to lock up +uneasiness in the heart requires steadfastness no less--nay, more--than +not to feel uneasiness. + +The inflation of "philosophy" vaunting itself is thus softly eased of +its painful distention: + + No. 22. Philosophy triumphs easily over troubles passed and troubles + to come, but present troubles triumph over it. + +When Jesus once rebuked the fellow-disciples of James and John for +blaming those brethren as self-seekers, he acted on the same profound +principle with that disclosed in the following maxim: + + No. 34. If we had no pride, we should not complain of that of others. + +How impossible it is for that Proteus, self-love, to elude the presence +of mind, the inexorable eye, the fast hand, of this incredulous +Frenchman: + + No. 39. Interest [self-love] speaks all sorts of languages, and plays + all sorts of parts, even that of disinterestedness. + + No. 49. We are never so happy, or so unhappy, as we imagine. + + No. 78. The love of justice is, in most men, only the fear of + suffering injustice. + +What a subtly unsoldering distrust the following maxim introduces into +the sentiment of mutual friendship: + + No. 83. What men have called friendship is only a partnership, a + mutual accommodation of interests, and an exchange of good offices: it + is, in short, only a traffic, in which self-love always proposes to + gain something. + + No. 89. Every one complains of his memory and no one complains of his + judgment. + +How striking, from its artful suppression of strikingness, is the first +following, and what a wide, easy sweep of well-bred satire it contains: + + No. 93. Old men like to give good advice, to console themselves for + being no longer able to give bad examples. + + No. 119. We are so much accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, + that, at last, we disguise ourselves to ourselves. + + No. 127. The true way to be deceived is to think one's self sharper + than others. + +The plain-spoken proverb, "A man that is his own lawyer has a fool for +his client," finds a more polished expression in the following: + + No. 132. It is easier to be wise for others, than to be so for one's + self. + +How pitilessly this inquisitor pursues his prey, the human soul, into +all its useless hiding-places: + + No. 138. We would rather speak ill of ourselves, than not talk of + ourselves. + +The following maxim, longer and less felicitously phrased than is usual +with La Rochefoucauld, recalls that bitter definition of the bore--"One +who insists on talking about himself all the time that you are wishing +to talk about yourself": + + No. 139. One of the causes why we find so few people who appear + reasonable and agreeable in conversation, is that there is scarcely + any one who does not think more of what he wishes to say, than of + replying exactly to what is said to him. The cleverest and the most + compliant think it enough to show an attentive air; while we see in + their eyes and in their mind a wandering from what is said to them, + and a hurry to return to what they wish to say, instead of considering + that it is a bad way to please or to persuade others, to try so hard + to please one's self, and that to listen well is one of the greatest + accomplishments we can have in conversation. + +If we are indignant at the maxims following, it is probably rather +because they are partly true than because they are wholly false: + + No. 144. We are not fond of praising, and, without interest, we never + praise any one. Praise is a cunning flattery, hidden and delicate, + which, in different ways, pleases him who gives and him who receives + it. The one takes it as a reward for his merit: the other gives it to + show his equity and his discernment. + + No. 146. We praise generally only to be praised. + + No. 147. Few are wise enough to prefer wholesome blame to treacherous + praise. + + No. 149. Disclaiming praise is a wish to be praised a second time. + + No. 152. If we did not flatter ourselves, the flattery of others could + not hurt us. + + No. 184. We acknowledge our faults in order to atone, by our + sincerity, for the harm they do us in the minds of others. + + No. 199. The desire to appear able often prevents our becoming so. + + No. 201. Whoever thinks he can do without the world, deceives himself + much; but whoever thinks the world cannot do without him, deceives + himself much more. + +With the following, contrast Ruskin's noble paradox, that the soldier's +business, rightly conceived, is self-sacrifice; his ideal purpose being, +not to kill, but to be killed: + + No. 214. Valor, in private soldiers, is a perilous calling, which they + have taken to in order to gain their living. + +Here is, perhaps, the most current of all La Rochefoucauld's maxims: + + No. 218. Hypocrisy is a homage which vice renders to virtue. + +Of the foregoing maxim it may justly be said, that its truth and point +depend upon the assumption, implicit, that there is such a thing as +virtue--an assumption which the whole tenor of the "Maxims" in general +contradicts. + +How incisive the following: + + No. 226. Too great eagerness to requite an obligation is a kind of + ingratitude. + + No. 298. The gratitude of most men is only a secret desire to receive + greater favors. + + No. 304. We often forgive those who bore us, but we cannot forgive + those whom we bore. + + No. 313. Why should we have memory enough to retain even the smallest + particulars of what has happened to us, and yet not have enough to + remember how often we have told them to the same individual? + +The first following maxim satirizes both princes and courtiers. It might +be entitled, "How to insult a prince, and not suffer for your +temerity": + + No. 320. To praise princes for virtues they have not, is to insult + them with impunity. + + No. 347. We find few sensible people, except those who are of our way + of thinking. + + No. 409. We should often be ashamed of our best actions, if the world + saw the motives which cause them. + + No. 424. We boast of faults the reverse of those we have: when we are + weak, we boast of being stubborn. + +Here, at length, is a maxim that does not depress--that animates you: + + No. 432. To praise noble actions heartily is in some sort to take part + in them. + +The following is much less exhilarating: + + No. 454. There are few instances in which we should make a bad + bargain, by giving up the good that is said of us, on condition that + nothing bad be said. + +This, also: + + No. 458. Our enemies come nearer to the truth, in the opinions they + form of us, than we do ourselves. + +Here is a celebrated maxim, vainly "suppressed" by the author, after +first publication: + + No. 583. In the adversity of our best friends, we always find + something which does not displease us. + +Before La Rochefoucauld, Montaigne had said, "Even in the midst of +compassion we feel within us an unaccountable bitter-sweet titillation +of ill-natured pleasure in seeing another suffer;" and Burke, after +both, wrote (in his "Sublime and Beautiful") with a heavier hand, "I am +convinced that we have a degree of delight, and that no small one, in +the real misfortunes and pains of others." + +La Rochefoucauld is not fairly cynical, more than is Montaigne. But as a +man he wins upon you less. His maxims are like hard and sharp crystals, +precipitated from the worldly wisdom blandly solute and dilute in +Montaigne. + +The wise of this world reject the dogma of human depravity, as taught in +the Bible. They willingly accept it--nay, accept it complacently, +hugging themselves for their own penetration--as taught in the "Maxims" +of La Rochefoucauld. + +JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE is personally almost as little known as if he were an +ancient of the Greek or Roman world surviving, like Juvenal, only in his +literary production. Bossuet got him employed to teach history to a +great duke, who became his patron, and settled a life-long annuity upon +him. He published his one book, the "Characters," in 1687, was made +member of the French Academy in 1693, and died in 1696. That, in short, +is La Bruyère's biography. + +His book is universally considered one of the most finished products of +the human mind. It is not a great work--it lacks the unity and the +majesty of design necessary for that. It consists simply of detached +thoughts and observations on a variety of subjects. It shows the author +to have been a man of deep and wise reflection, but especially a +consummate master of style. The book is one to read in, rather than to +read. It is full of food to thought. The very beginning exhibits a +self-consciousness on the writer's part very different from that +spontaneous simplicity in which truly great books originate. La Bruyère +begins: + + Every thing has been said; and one comes too late, after more than + seven thousand years that there have been men, and men who have + thought. + +La Bruyère has something to say, and that to length unusual for him, of +pulpit eloquence. We select a few specimen sentences: + + Christian eloquence has become a spectacle. That gospel sadness, which + is its soul, is no longer to be observed in it; its place is supplied + by advantages of facial expression, by inflections of the voice, by + regularity of gesticulation, by choice of words, and by long + categories. The sacred word is no longer listened to seriously; it is + a kind of amusement, one among many; it is a game in which there is + rivalry, and in which there are those who lay wagers. + + Profane eloquence has been transferred, so to speak, from the bar ... + where it is no longer employed, to the pulpit where it ought not to be + found. + + Matches of eloquence are made at the very foot of the altar, and in + the presence of the mysteries. He who listens sits in judgment on him + who preaches, to condemn or to applaud, and is no more converted by + the discourse which he praises than by that which he pronounces + against. The orator pleases some, displeases others, and has an + understanding with all in one thing--that as he does not seek to + render them better, so they do not think of becoming better. + +The almost cynical acerbity of the preceding is ostensibly relieved of +an obvious application to certain illustrious contemporary examples +among preachers by the following open allusion to Bossuet and +Bourdaloue: + + The Bishop of Meaux [Bossuet] and Father Bourdaloue make me think of + Demosthenes and Cicero. Both of them, masters of pulpit eloquence, + have had the fortune of great models; the one has made bad critics, + the other bad imitators. + +Here is a happy instance of La Bruyère's successful pains in redeeming a +commonplace sentiment by means of a striking form of expression; the +writer is disapproving the use of oaths in support of one's testimony: + + An honest man who says Yes, or No, deserves to be believed; his + character swears for him. + +Highly satiric in his quiet way, La Bruyère knew how to be. Witness the +following thrust at a contemporary author, not named by the satirist, +but, no doubt, recognized by the public of the time: + + He maintains that the ancients, however unequal and negligent they may + be, have fine traits; he points these out; and they are so fine that + they make his criticism readable. + +How painstakingly, how self-consciously, La Bruyère did his literary +work is evidenced by the following: + + A good author, and one who writes with care, often has the experience + of finding that the expression which he was a long time in search of + without reaching it, and which at length he has found, is that which + was the most simple, the most natural, and that which, as it would + seem, should have presented itself at first, and without effort. + +We feel that the quality of La Bruyère is such as to fit him for the +admiration and enjoyment of but a comparatively small class of readers. +He was somewhat over-exquisite. His art at times became +artifice--infinite labor of style to make commonplace thought seem +valuable by dint of perfect expression. We dismiss La Bruyère with a +single additional extract--his celebrated parallel between Corneille and +Racine: + + Corneille subjects us to his characters and to his ideas; Racine + accommodates himself to ours. The one paints men as they ought to be; + the other paints them as they are. There is more in the former of what + one admires, and of what one ought even to imitate; there is more in + the latter of what one observes in others, or of what one experiences + in one's self. The one inspires, astonishes, masters, instructs; the + other pleases, moves, touches, penetrates. Whatever there is most + beautiful, most noble, most imperial, in the reason is made use of by + the former; by the latter whatever is most seductive and most delicate + in passion. You find in the former maxims, rules, and precepts; in the + latter, taste and sentiment. You are more absorbed in the plays of + Corneille; you are more shaken and more softened in those of Racine. + Corneille is more moral; Racine, more natural. The one appears to make + Sophocles his model; the other owes more to Euripides. + +Less than half a century after La Rochefoucauld and La Bruyère had shown +the way, VAUVENARGUES followed in a similar style of authorship, +promising almost to rival the fame of his two predecessors. This writer, +during his brief life (he died at thirty-two), produced one not +inconsiderable literary work more integral and regular in form, +entitled, "Introduction to the Knowledge of the Human Mind;" but it is +his disconnected thoughts and observations chiefly that continue to +preserve his name. + +Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de Vauvenargues, though nobly born, was poor. +His health was frail. He did not receive a good education in his youth. +Indeed, he was still in his youth when he went to the wars. His culture +always remained narrow. He did not know Greek and Latin, when to know +Greek and Latin was, as it were, the whole of scholarship. To crown his +accidental disqualifications for literary work, he fell a victim to the +small-pox, which left him wrecked in body. This occurred almost +immediately after he abandoned a military career which had been fruitful +to him of hardship, but not of promotion. In spite of all that was thus +against him, Vauvenargues, in those years, few and evil, that were his, +thought finely and justly enough to earn for himself a lasting place in +the literary history of his nation. He was in the eighteenth century of +France without being of it. You have to separate him in thought from the +infidels and the "philosophers" of his time. He belongs in spirit to an +earlier age. His moral and intellectual kindred was with such as Pascal, +far more than with such as Voltaire. Vauvenargues is, however, a writer +for the few, instead of for the many. His fame is high but it is not +wide. Historically, he forms a stepping-stone of transition to a +somewhat similar nineteenth-century name, that of Joubert. A very few +sentences of his will suffice to indicate to our readers the quality of +Vauvenargues. Self-evidently, the following antithesis drawn by him +between Corneille and Racine is subtly and ingeniously thought, as well +as very happily expressed--this, whatever may be considered to be its +aptness in point of literary appreciation: + + Corneille's heroes often say great things without inspiring them; + Racine's inspire them without saying them. + +Here is a good saying: + + It is a great sign of mediocrity always to be moderate in praising. + +There is worldly wisdom also here: + + He who knows how to turn his prodigalities to good account practices a + large and noble economy. + +Virgil's "They are able, because they seem to themselves to be able," is +recalled by this: + + The consciousness of our strength makes our strength greater. + +So much for Vauvenargues. + +And so much for what--considering that, logically, though not quite +chronologically, Vauvenargues belongs with them--we may call the +seventeenth-century group of French _pensée_-writers. A +nineteenth-century group of the same literary class will form the +subject of a chapter in due course to follow. + + + + +VI. + +LA FONTAINE. + +1621-1695. + + +La Fontaine enjoys a unique fame. He has absolutely "no fellow in the +firmament" of literature. He is the only fabulist, of any age or any +nation, that, on the score simply of his fables, is admitted to be poet +as well as fabulist. There is perhaps no other literary name whatever +among the French by long proof more secure than is La Fontaine's, of +universal and of immortal renown. Such a fame is, of course, not the +most resplendent in the world; but to have been the first, and to remain +thus far the only, writer of fables enjoying recognition as true +poetry--this, surely, is an achievement entitling La Fontaine to +monumental mention in any sketch, however summary, of French literature. + +Jean de La Fontaine was humbly born, at Château-Thierry, in Champagne. +His early education was sadly neglected. At twenty years of age he was +still phenomenally ignorant. About this time, being now better situated, +he developed a taste for the classics and for poetry. With La Fontaine +the man, it is the sadly familiar French story of debauchee manners in +life and in literary production. We cannot acquit him, but we are to +condemn him only in common with the most of his age and of his nation. +As the world goes, La Fontaine was a "good fellow," never lacking +friends. These were held fast in loyalty to the poet, not so much by any +sterling worth of character felt in him as by an exhaustless, +easy-going good-nature that, despite his social insipidity, made La +Fontaine the most acceptable of every-day companions. It would be easy +to repeat many stories illustrative of this personal quality in La +Fontaine, while to tell a single story illustrative of any lofty trait +in his character would be perhaps impossible. Still, La Fontaine seemed +not ungrateful for the benefits he received from others; and gratitude, +no commonplace virtue, let us accordingly reckon to the credit of a man +in general so slenderly equipped with positive claims to admiring +personal regard. The mirror of _bonhomie_ (easy-hearted +good-fellowship), he always was. Indeed, that significant, almost +untranslatable, French word might have been coined to fit La Fontaine's +case. On his amiable side--a full hemisphere or more of the man--it sums +him up completely. Twenty years long this mirror of _bonhomie_ was +domiciliated, like a pet animal, under the hospitable roof of the +celebrated Madame de la Sablière. There was truth as well as humor +implied in what she said one day: "I have sent away all my domestics; I +have kept only my dog, my cat, and La Fontaine." + +But La Fontaine had that in him which kept the friendship of serious +men. Molière, a grave, even melancholy spirit, however gay in his +comedies; Boileau and Racine, decorous both of them, at least in +manners, constituted, together with La Fontaine, a kind of private +"Academy," existing on a diminutive scale, which was not without its +important influence on French letters. La Fontaine seems to have been a +sort of Goldsmith in this club of wits, the butt of many pleasantries +from his colleagues, called out by his habit of absent-mindedness. St. +Augustine was one night the subject of an elaborate eulogy, which La +Fontaine lost the benefit of, through a reverie of his own indulged +meantime on a quite different character. Catching, however, at the name, +La Fontaine, as he came to himself for a moment, betrayed the secret of +his absent thought by asking, "Do you think St. Augustine had as much +wit as Rabelais?" "Take care, Monsieur La Fontaine: you have put one of +your stockings on wrong side out"--he had actually done so--was the only +answer vouchsafed to his question. The speaker in this case was a doctor +of the Sorbonne (brother to Boileau), present as guest. The story is +told of La Fontaine, that egged on to groundless jealousy of his wife--a +wife whom he never really loved, and whom he soon would finally +abandon,--he challenged a military friend of his to combat with swords. +The friend was amazed, and, amazed, reluctantly fought with La Fontaine, +whom he easily put at his mercy. "Now, what is this for?" he demanded. +"The public says you visit my house for my wife's sake, not for mine," +said La Fontaine. "Then I never will come again." "Far from it," +responds La Fontaine, seizing his friend's hand. "I have satisfied the +public. Now you must come to my house every day, or I will fight you +again." The two went back in company, and breakfasted together in mutual +good humor. + +A trait or two more and there will have been enough of the man La +Fontaine. It is said that when, on the death of Madame de la Sablière, +La Fontaine was homeless, he was met on the street by a friend, who +exclaimed, "I was looking for you; come to my house, and live with me!" +"I was on the way there," La Fontaine characteristically replied. At +seventy, La Fontaine went through a process of "conversion," so called, +in which he professed repentance of his sins. On the genuineness of this +inward experience of La Fontaine, it is not for a fellow-creature of +his, especially at this distance of time, to pronounce. When he died, at +seventy-three, Fénelon could say of him (in Latin), "La Fontaine is no +more! He is no more; and with him have gone the playful jokes, the merry +laugh, the artless graces, and the sweet Muses!" La Fontaine's earliest +works were "Contes," so styled; that is, tales, or romances. These are +in character such that the subsequent happy change in manners, if not in +morals, has made them unreadable, for their indecency. We need concern +ourselves only with the Fables, for it is on these that La Fontaine's +fame securely rests. The basis of story in them was not generally +original with La Fontaine. He took whatever fittest came to his hand. +With much modesty he attributed all to Æsop and Phædrus. But invention +of his own is not altogether wanting to his books of fables. Still, it +is chiefly the consummate artful artlessness of the form that +constitutes the individual merit of La Fontaine's productions. With +something, too, of the air of real poetry, he has undoubtedly invested +his verse. + +We give, first, the brief fable which is said to have been the prime +favorite of the author himself. It is the fable of "The Oak and the +Reed." Of this fable French critics have not scrupled to speak in terms +of almost the very highest praise. Chamfort says, "Let one consider, +that, within the limit of thirty lines, La Fontaine, doing nothing but +yield himself to the current of his story, has taken on every tone, that +of poetry the most graceful, that of poetry the most lofty, and one will +not hesitate to affirm, that, at the epoch at which this fable appeared, +there was nothing comparable to it in the French language." There are, +to speak precisely, thirty-two lines in the fable. In this one case let +us try representing La Fontaine's compression by our English form. For +the rest of our specimens, after a single further exception, introduced, +we confess, partly because it could be given in a graceful version by +Bryant, we shall use Elizur Wright's translation--a meritorious one, +still master of the field which, about fifty years ago, it entered as +pioneer. Mr. Wright here expands La Fontaine's thirty-two verses to it +forty-four. The additions are not ill-done, but they encumber somewhat +the Attic neatness and simplicity of the original. We ought to say, that +La Fontaine boldly broke with the tradition which had been making +Alexandrines--lines of six feet--obligatory in French verse. He rhymes +irregularly, at choice, and makes his verses long or short, as pleases +him. The closing verse of the present piece is, in accordance with the +intended majesty of the representation, an Alexandrine: + + The Oak one day said to the Reed, + "Justly might you dame Nature blame. + A wren's weight would bow down your frame; + The lightest wind that chance may make + Dimple the surface of the lake + Your head bends low indeed, + The while, like Caucasus, my front + To meet the branding sun is wont, + Nay, more, to take the tempest's brunt. + A blast you feel, I feel a breeze. + Had you been born beneath my roof, + Wide-spread, of leafage weather-proof, + Less had you known your life to tease; + I should have sheltered you from storm. + But oftenest you rear your form + On the moist limits of the realm of wind. + Nature, methinks, against you sore has sinned." + + "Your pity," answers him the Reed, + "Bespeaks you kind; but spare your pain; + I more than you may winds disdain. + I bend, and break not. You, indeed, + Against their dreadful strokes till now + Have stood, nor tamed your back to bow: + But wait we for the end." + + Scarce had he spoke, + When fiercely from the far horizon broke + The wildest of the children, fullest fraught + With terror, that till then the North had brought. + The tree holds good; the reed it bends. + The wind redoubled might expends, + And so well works that from his bed + Him it uproots who nigh to heaven his head + Held, and whose feet reached to the kingdom of the dead. + +Here is that fable of La Fontaine's graced by the hand of Bryant upon it +as translator. It is entitled "Love and Folly:" + + Love's worshipers alone can know + The thousand mysteries that are his; + His blazing torch, his twanging bow, + His blooming age are mysteries. + A charming science--but the day + Were all too short to con it o'er; + So take of me this little lay, + A sample of its boundless lore. + + As once, beneath the fragrant shade + Of myrtles fresh, in heaven's pure air, + The children, Love and Folly, played-- + A quarrel rose betwixt the pair. + Love said the gods should do him right-- + But Folly vowed to do it then, + And struck him, o'er the orbs of sight, + So hard he never saw again. + + His lovely mother's grief was deep, + She called for vengeance on the deed; + A beauty does not vainly weep, + Nor coldly does a mother plead. + A shade came o'er the eternal bliss + That fills the dwellers of the skies; + Even stony-hearted Nemesis + And Rhadamanthus wiped their eyes. + + "Behold," she said, "this lovely boy," + While streamed afresh her graceful tears, + "Immortal, yet shut out from joy + And sunshine all his future years. + The child can never take, you see + A single step without a staff-- + The harshest punishment would be + Too lenient for the crime by half." + + All said that Love had suffered wrong, + And well that wrong should be repaid; + When weighed the public interest long, + And long the party's interest weighed, + And thus decreed the court above-- + "Since Love is blind from Folly's blow, + Let Folly be the guide of Love, + Where'er the boy may choose to go." + +In the fable of the "Rat Retired from the World," La Fontaine rallies +the monks. With French _finesse_ he hits his mark by expressly avoiding +it. "What think you I mean by my disobliging rat? A monk? No, but a +Mahometan devotee; I take it for granted that a monk is always ready +with his help to the needful!" + + The sage Levantines have a tale + About a rat that weary grew + Of all the cares which life assail, + And to a Holland cheese withdrew. + His solitude was there profound, + Extending through his world so round. + Our hermit lived on that within; + And soon his industry had been + With claws and teeth so good, + That in his novel hermitage + He had in store, for wants of age, + Both house and livelihood. + What more could any rat desire? + He grew fat, fair, and round. + God's blessings thus redound + To those who in his vows retire. + One day this personage devout, + Whose kindness none might doubt, + Was asked, by certain delegates + That came from Rat-United-States, + For some small aid, for they + To foreign parts were on their way, + For succor in the great cat-war: + Ratopolis beleaguered sore, + Their whole republic drained and poor, + No morsel in their scrips they bore. + Slight boon they craved, of succor sure + In days at utmost three or four. + "My friends," the hermit said, + "To worldly things I'm dead. + How can a poor recluse + To such a mission be of use? + What can he do but pray + That God will aid it on its way? + And so, my friends, it is my prayer + That God will have you in his care." + His well-fed saintship said no more + But in their faces shut the door. + What think you, reader, is the service, + For which I use this niggard rat? + To paint a monk? No, but a dervise. + A monk, I think, however fat, + Must be more bountiful than that. + +The fable entitled "Death and the Dying," is much admired for its union +of pathos with wit. "The Two Doves," is another of La Fontaine's more +tender inspirations. "The Mogul's Dream" is a somewhat ambitious flight +of the fabulist's muse. On the whole, however, the masterpiece among the +fables of La Fontaine is that of "The Animals Sick of the Plague." Such +at least is the opinion of critics in general. The idea of this fable is +not original with La Fontaine. The homilists of the middle ages used a +similar fiction to enforce on priests the duty of impartiality in +administering the sacrament, so called, of confession. We give this +famous fable as our closing specimen of La Fontaine: + + The sorest ill that Heaven hath + Sent on this lower world in wrath-- + The plague (to call it by its name), + One single day of which + Would Pluto's ferryman enrich, + Waged war on beasts, both wild and tame. + They died not all, but all were sick: + No hunting now, by force or trick, + To save what might so soon expire. + No food excited their desire: + Nor wolf nor fox now watched to slay + The innocent and tender prey. + The turtles fled, + So love and therefore joy were dead. + The lion council held, and said, + "My friends, I do believe + This awful scourge, for which we grieve, + Is for our sins a punishment + Most righteously by Heaven sent. + Let us our guiltiest beast resign + A sacrifice to wrath divine. + Perhaps this offering, truly small, + May gain the life and health of all. + By history we find it noted + That lives have been just so devoted. + Then let us all turn eyes within, + And ferret out the hidden sin. + Himself let no one spare nor flatter, + But make clean conscience in the matter. + For me, my appetite has played the glutton + Too much and often upon mutton. + What harm had e'er my victims done? + I answer, truly, None. + Perhaps, sometimes, by hunger pressed, + I've eat the shepherd with the rest. + I yield myself if need there be; + And yet I think, in equity, + Each should confess his sins with me; + For laws of right and justice cry, + The guiltiest alone should die." + "Sire," said the fox, "your majesty + Is humbler than a king should be, + And over-squeamish in the case. + What! eating stupid sheep a crime? + No, never, sire, at any time. + It rather was an act of grace, + A mark of honor to their race. + And as to shepherds, one may swear, + The fate your majesty describes + Is recompense less full than fair + For such usurpers o'er our tribes." + + Thus Renard glibly spoke, + And loud applause from listeners broke + Of neither tiger, boar, nor bear, + Did any keen inquiry dare + To ask for crimes of high degree; + The fighters, biters, scratchers, all + From every mortal sin were free; + The very dogs, both great and small, + Were saints, as far as dogs could be. + + The ass, confessing in his turn, + Thus spoke in tones of deep concern: + "I happened through a mead to pass; + The monks, its owners, were at mass: + Keen hunger, leisure, tender grass, + And, add to these the devil, too, + All tempted me the deed to do. + I browsed the bigness of my tongue: + Since truth must out, I own it wrong." + On this, a hue and cry arose, + As if the beasts were all his foes. + A wolf, haranguing lawyer-wise, + Denounced the ass for sacrifice-- + The bald-pate, scabby, ragged lout, + By whom the plague had come, no doubt. + His fault was judged a hanging crime. + What! eat another's grass? Oh, shame! + The noose of rope, and death sublime, + For that offense were all too tame! + And soon poor Grizzle felt the same. + Thus human courts acquit the strong, + And doom the weak as therefore wrong. + +It is suitable to add, in conclusion, that La Fontaine is a crucial +author for disclosing the irreconcilable difference that exists, at +bottom, between the Englishman's and the Frenchman's idea of poetry. No +English-speaker, heir of Shakespeare and Milton, will ever be able to +satisfy a Frenchman with admiration such as he can conscientiously +profess for the poetry of La Fontaine. + + + + +VII. + +MOLIÈRE. + +1623-1673. + + +Molière is confessedly the greatest writer of comedy in the world. Greek +Menander might have disputed the palm; but Menander's works have +perished, and his greatness must be guessed. Who knows but we guess him +too great? Molière's works survive, and his greatness may be measured. + +We have stinted our praise. Molière is not only the foremost name in a +certain department of literature; he is one of the foremost names in +literature. The names are few on which critics are willing to bestow +this distinction. But critics generally agree in bestowing this +distinction on Molière. + +Molière's comedy is by no means mere farce. Farces he wrote, +undoubtedly; and some element of farce, perhaps, entered to qualify +nearly every comedy that flowed from his pen. But it is not for his +farce that Molière is rated one of the few greatest producers of +literature. Molière's comedy constitutes to Molière the patent that it +does, of high degree in genius, not because it provokes laughter, but +because, amid laughter provoked, it not seldom reveals, as if with +flashes of lightning--lightning playful, indeed, but lightning that +might have been deadly--the "secrets of the nethermost abyss" of human +nature. Not human manners merely, those of a time, or a race, but human +attributes, those of all times, and of all races, are the things with +which, in his higher comedies, Molière deals. Some transient whim of +fashion may in these supply to him the mould of form that he uses, but +it is human nature itself that supplies to Molière the substance of his +dramatic creations. Now and again, if you read Molière wisely and +deeply, you find your laughter at comedy fairly frozen in your throat, +by a gelid horror seizing you, to feel that these follies or these +crimes displayed belong to that human nature, one and the same +everywhere and always, of which also you yourself partake. Comedy, +Dante, too, called his poem, which included the _Inferno_. And a +Dantesque quality, not of method, but of power, is to be felt in +Molière. + +This character in Molière the writer accords with the character of the +man Molière. It might not have seemed natural to say of Molière, as was +said of Dante, "There goes the man that has been in hell." But Molière +was melancholy enough in temper and in mien to have well inspired an +exclamation such as, "There goes the man that has seen the human heart." + +A poet as well as a dramatist, his own fellow-countrymen, at least, +feel Molière to be. In Victor Hugo's list of the eight greatest poets of +all time, two are Hebrews (Job and Isaiah), two Greeks (Homer and +Æschylus), one is a Roman (Lucretius), one an Italian (Dante), one an +Englishman (Shakespeare)--seven. The eighth could hardly fail to be a +Frenchman, and that Frenchman is Molière. Mr. Swinburne might perhaps +make the list nine, but he would certainly include Victor Hugo himself. + +Curiously enough, Molière is not this great writer's real name. It is a +stage name. It was assumed by the bearer when he was about twenty-four +years of age, on occasion of his becoming one in a strolling band of +players--in 1646 or thereabout. This band, originally composed of +amateurs, developed into a professional dramatic company, which passed +through various transformations, until, from being at first +grandiloquently self-styled, L'Illustre Théâtre, it was, twenty years +after, recognized by the national title of Théâtre Français. Molière's +real name was Jean Baptiste Poquelin. + +Young Poquelin's bent, early encouraged by seeing plays and ballets, was +strongly toward the stage. The drama, under the quickening patronage of +Louis XIII.'s lordly minister, Cardinal Richelieu, was a great public +interest of those times in Paris. Molière's evil star, too, it was +perhaps in part that brought him back to Paris, from Orleans. He admired +a certain actress in the capital. She became the companion--probably not +innocent companion--of his wandering life as actor. A sister of this +actress--a sister young enough to be daughter, instead of +sister--Molière finally married. She led her jealous husband a wretched +conjugal life. A peculiarly dark tradition of shame, connected with +Molière's marriage, has lately been to a good degree dispelled. But it +is not possible to redeem this great man's fame to chastity and honor. +He paid heavily, in like misery of his own, for whatever pangs of +jealousy he inflicted. There was sometimes true tragedy for himself +hidden within the comedy that he acted for others. (Molière, to the very +end of his life, acted in the comedies that he wrote.) When some play of +his represented the torments of jealousy in the heart of a husband, it +was probably not so much acting, as it was real life, that the +spectators saw proceeding on the stage between Molière and his wife, +confronted with each other in performing the piece. + +Despite his faults, Molière was cast in a noble, generous mold, of +character as well as of genius. Expostulated with for persisting to +appear on the stage when his health was such that he put his life at +stake in so doing, he replied that the men and women of his company +depended for their bread on the play's going through, and appear he +would. He actually died an hour or so after playing the part of the +Imaginary Invalid in his comedy of that name. That piece was the last +work of his pen. + +Molière produced in all some thirty dramatic pieces, from among which we +select a few of the most celebrated for brief description and +illustration. + +The "Bourgeois Gentilhomme" ("Shopkeeper turned Gentleman") partakes of +the nature of the farce quite as much as it does of the comedy. But it +is farce such as only a man of genius could produce. In it Molière +ridicules the airs and affectations of a rich man vulgarly ambitious to +figure in a social rank too exalted for his birth, his breeding, or his +merit. Jourdain is the name under which Molière satirizes such a +character. We give a fragment from one of the scenes. M. Jourdain is in +process of fitting himself for that higher position in society to which +he aspires. He will equip himself with the necessary knowledge. To this +end he employs a professor of philosophy to come and give him lessons at +his house: + + _M. Jourdain._ I have the greatest desire in the world to be learned; + and it vexes me more than I can tell, that my father and mother did + not make me learn thoroughly all the sciences when I was young. + + _Professor of Philosophy._ This is a praiseworthy feeling. _Nam sine + doctrina vita est quasi mortis imago._ You understand this, and you + have, no doubt, a knowledge of Latin? + + _M. Jour._ Yes; but act as if I had none. Explain to me the meaning of + it-- + + _Prof. Phil._ The meaning of it is, that, without science, life is an + image of death. + + _M. Jour._ That Latin is quite right. + + _Prof. Phil._ Have you any principles, any rudiments, of science? + + _M. Jour._ Oh, yes! I can read and write. + + _Prof. Phil._ With what would you like to begin? Shall I teach you + logic? + + _M. Jour._ And what may this logic be? + + _Prof. Phil._ It is that which teaches us the three operations of the + mind. + + _M. Jour._ What are they--these three operations of the mind? + + _Prof. Phil._ The first, the second, and the third. The first is to + conceive well by means of universals; the second, to judge well by + means of categories; and the third, to draw a conclusion aright by + means of the figures Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio, Baralipton, etc. + + _M. Jour._ Pooh! what repulsive words! This logic does not by any + means suit me. Teach me something more enlivening. + + _Prof. Phil._ Will you learn moral philosophy? + + _M. Jour._ Moral philosophy? + + _Prof. Phil._ Yes. + + _M. Jour._ What does it say, this moral philosophy? + + _Prof. Phil._ It treats of happiness, teaches men to moderate their + passions, and-- + + _M. Jour._ No, none of that. I am devilishly hot-tempered, and, + morality or no morality, I like to give full vent to my anger whenever + I have a mind to it. + + _Prof. Phil._ Would you like to learn physics? + + _M. Jour._ And what have physics to say for themselves? + + _Prof. Phil._ Physics is that science which explains the principles of + natural things and the properties of bodies; which discourses of the + nature of the elements, of metals, minerals, stones, plants, and + animals; which teaches us the cause of all the meteors, the rainbow, + the _ignis fatuus_, comets, lightning, thunder, thunderbolts, rain, + snow, hail, and whirlwinds. + + _M. Jour._ There is too much hullaballoo in all that, too much riot + and rumpus. + + _Prof. Phil._ Very good. + + _M. Jour._ And now I want to intrust you with a great secret. I am in + love with a lady of quality; and I should be glad if you would help me + to write something to her in a short letter which I mean to drop at + her feet. + + _Prof. Phil._ Very well. + + _M. Jour._ That will be gallant, will it not? + + _Prof. Phil._ Undoubtedly. Is it verse you wish to write to her? + + _M. Jour._ Oh, no! not verse. + + _Prof. Phil._ You only wish prose? + + _M. Jour._ No. I wish for neither verse nor prose. + + _Prof. Phil._ It must be one or the other. + + _M. Jour._ Why? + + _Prof. Phil._ Because, sir, there is nothing by which we can express + ourselves except prose or verse. + + _M. Jour._ There is nothing but prose or verse? + + _Prof. Phil._ No, sir. Whatever is not prose, is verse; and whatever + is not verse, is prose. + + _M. Jour._ And when we speak, what is that, then? + + _Prof. Phil._ Prose. + + _M. Jour._ What! when I say, "Nicole, bring me my slippers, and give + me my nightcap," is that prose? + + _Prof. Phil._ Yes, sir. + + _M. Jour._ Upon my word, I have been speaking prose these forty years + without being aware of it; and I am under the greatest obligation to + you for informing me of it. Well, then, I wish to write to her in a + letter, "Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of love"; + but I would have this worded in a gallant manner, turned genteelly. + + _Prof. Phil._ Say that the fire of her eyes has reduced your heart to + ashes; that you suffer day and night for her the torments of a-- + + _M. Jour._ No, no, no, I don't wish any of that. I simply wish what I + tell you--"Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of love." + + _Prof. Phil._ Still, you might amplify the thing a little. + + _M. Jour._ No, I tell you, I will have nothing but these very words in + the letter; but they must be put in a fashionable way, and arranged as + they should be. Pray show me a little, so that I may see the different + ways in which they can be put. + + _Prof. Phil._ They may be put first of all, as you have said, "Fair + Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of love;" or else, "Of + love die make me, fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes;" or, "Your + beautiful eyes of love make me, fair Marchioness, die;" or, "Die of + love your beautiful eyes, fair Marchioness, make me;" or else, "Me + make your beautiful eyes die, fair Marchioness, of love." + + _M. Jour._ But of all these ways, which is the best? + + _Prof. Phil._ The one you said--"Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes + make me die of love." + + _M. Jour._ Yet I have never studied, and I did all right off at the + first shot. + +The "Bourgeois Gentilhomme" is a very amusing comedy throughout. + +From "Les Femmes Savantes" ("The Learned Women")--"The Blue-Stockings," +we might perhaps freely render the title--we present one scene to +indicate the nature of the comedy. There had grown to be a fashion in +Paris, among certain women high in social rank, of pretending to the +distinction of skill in literary criticism, and of proficiency in +science. It was the Hôtel de Rambouillet reduced to absurdity. That +fashionable affectation Molière made the subject of his comedy, "The +Learned Women." + +In the following extracts, Molière satirizes, under the name of +Trissotin, a contemporary writer, one Cotin. The poem which Trissotin +reads, for the learned women to criticise and admire, is an actual +production of this gentleman. Imagine the domestic _coterie_ assembled, +and Trissotin, the poet, their guest. He is present, prepared to regale +them with what he calls his sonnet. We need to explain that the original +poem is thus inscribed: "To Mademoiselle de Longueville, now Duchess of +Namur, on her Quartan Fever." The conceit of the sonneteer is that the +fever is an enemy luxuriously lodged in the lovely person of its victim, +and there insidiously plotting against her life: + + _Trissotin._ Sonnet to the Princess Urania on her Fever. + + Your prudence sure is fast asleep, + That thus luxuriously you keep + And lodge magnificently so + Your very hardest-hearted foe. + + _Bélise._ Ah! what a pretty beginning! + + _Armande._ What a charming turn it has! + + _Philaminte._ He alone possesses the talent of making easy verses. + + _Arm._ We must yield to _prudence fast asleep_. + + _Bél._ _Lodge one's very hardest-hearted foe_ is full of charms for + me. + + _Phil._ I like _luxuriously_ and _magnificently_: these two adverbs + joined together sound admirably. + + _Bél._ Let us hear the rest. + + _Triss._ Your prudence sure is fast asleep, + That thus luxuriously you keep + And lodge magnificently so + Your very hardest-hearted foe. + + _Arm._ _Prudence fast asleep._ + + _Bél._ _To lodge one's foe._ + + _Phil._ _Luxuriously_ and _magnificently_. + + _Triss._ Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say, + From out your chamber, decked so gay, + Where, ingrate vile, with murderous knife, + Bold she assails your lovely life. + + _Bél._ Ah! gently. Allow me to breathe, I beseech you. + + _Arm._ Give us time to admire, I beg. + + _Phil._ One feels, at hearing these verses, an indescribable something + which goes through one's inmost soul, and makes one feel quite faint. + + _Arm._ Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say, + From out your chamber, decked so gay-- + + How prettily _chamber, decked so gay_, is said here! And with what wit + the metaphor is introduced! + + _Phil._ Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say. + + Ah! in what an admirable taste that _whate'er men say_ is! To my mind, + the passage is invaluable. + + _Arm._ My heart is also in love with _whate'er men say_. + + _Bél._ I am of your opinion: _whate'er men say_ is a happy expression. + + _Arm._ I wish I had written it. + + _Bél._ It is worth a whole poem. + + _Phil._ But do you, like me, thoroughly understand the wit of it? + + _Arm. and Bél._ Oh! Oh! + + _Phil._ Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say. + + Although another should take the fever's part, pay no attention; laugh + at the gossips. + + Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say, + Whate'er men say, whate'er men say. + + This _whate'er men say_, says a great deal more than it seems. I do + not know if every one is like me, but I discover in it a hundred + meanings. + + _Bél._ It is true that it says more than its size seems to imply. + + _Phil._ (_to Trissotin._) But when you wrote this charming _whate'er + men say_, did you yourself understand all its energy? Did you realize + all it tells us? And did you then think that you were writing + something so witty? + + _Triss._ Ah! ah! + + _Arm._ I have likewise the _ingrate_ in my head--this ungrateful, + unjust, uncivil fever that ill-treats people who entertain her. + + _Phil._ In short, both the stanzas are admirable. Let us come quickly + to the triplets, I pray. + + _Arm._ Ah! once more, _what'er men say_, I beg. + + _Triss._ Drive forth that foe, whate'er men say-- + + _Phil., Arm., and Bél._ _Whate'er men say!_ + + _Triss._ From out your chamber, decked so gay-- + + _Phil., Arm. and Bél._ _Chamber decked so gay!_ + + _Triss._ Where, ingrate vile, with murderous knife-- + + _Phil., Arm., and Bél._ That _ingrate_ fever! + + _Triss._ Bold she assails your lovely life. + + _Triss._ _Your lovely life!_ + + _Arm. and Bél._ Ah! + + _Triss._ What! reckless of your ladyhood, + Still fiercely seeks to shed your blood-- + + _Phil., Arm. and Bél._ Ah! + + _Triss._ And day and night to work you harm. + When to the baths sometime you've brought her, + No more ado, with your own arm + Whelm her and drown her in the water. + + _Phil._ Ah! It is quite overpowering. + + _Bél._ I faint. + + _Arm._ I die from pleasure. + + _Phil._ A thousand sweet thrills seize one. + + _Arm._ _When to the baths sometime you've brought her._ + + _Bél._ _No more ado, with your own arm._ + + _Phil._ _Whelm her and drown her in the water._ + + With your own arm, drown her there in the baths. + + _Arm._ In your verses we meet at each step with charming beauty. + + _Bél._ One promenades through them with rapture. + + _Phil._ One treads on fine things only. + + _Arm._ They are little lanes all strewn with roses. + + _Triss._ Then, the sonnet seems to you-- + + _Phil._ Admirable, new; and never did any one make any thing more + beautiful. + + _Bél._ (_to Henriette_). What! my niece, you listen to what has been + read without emotion! You play there but a sorry part! + + _Hen._ We each of us play the best part we can, my aunt; and to be a + wit does not depend on our will. + + _Triss._ My verses, perhaps, are tedious to you. + + _Hen._ No. I do not listen. + + _Phil._ Ah! Let us hear the epigram. + +But our readers, we think, will consent to spare the epigram. They will +relish, however, a fragment taken from a subsequent part of the same +protracted scene. The conversation has made the transition from literary +criticism to philosophy, in Moliére's time a fashionable study, rendered +such by the contemporary genius and fame of Descartes. Armande resents +the limitations imposed upon her sex: + + _Arm._ It is insulting our sex too grossly to limit our intelligence + to the power of judging of a skirt, of the make of a garment, of the + beauties of lace, or of a new brocade. + + _Bél._ We must rise above this shameful condition, and bravely + proclaim our emancipation. + + _Triss._ Every one knows my respect for the fairer sex, and that, if I + render homage to the brightness of their eyes, I also honor the + splendor of their intellect. + + _Phil._ And our sex does you justice in this respect; but we will show + to certain minds who treat us with proud contempt, that women also + have knowledge; that, like men, they can hold learned + meetings--regulated, too, by better rules; that they wish to unite + what elsewhere is kept apart, join noble language to deep learning, + reveal nature's laws by a thousand experiments; and, on all questions + proposed, admit every party, and ally themselves to none. + + _Triss._ For order, I prefer peripateticism. + + _Phil._ For abstractions, I love platonism. + + _Arm._ Epicurus pleases me, for his tenets are solid. + + _Bél._ I agree with the doctrine of atoms; but I find it difficult to + understand a vacuum, and I much prefer subtile matter. + + _Triss._ I quite agree with Descartes about magnetism. + + _Arm._ I like his vortices. + + _Phil._ And I, his falling worlds. + + _Arm._ I long to see our assembly opened, and to distinguish ourselves + by some great discovery. + + _Triss._ Much is expected from your enlightened knowledge, for nature + has hidden few things from you. + + _Phil._ For my part, I have, without boasting, already made one + discovery; I have plainly seen men in the moon. + + _Bél._ I have not, I believe as yet, quite distinguished men, but I + have seen steeples as plainly as I see you. + + _Arm._ In addition to natural philosophy, we will dive into grammar, + history, verse, ethics, and politics. + + _Phil._ I find in ethics charms which delight my heart; it was + formerly the admiration of great geniuses; but I give the preference + to the Stoics, and I think nothing so grand as their founder. + +"Les Précieuses Ridicules" is an earlier and lighter treatment of the +same theme. The object of ridicule in both these pieces was a lapsed and +degenerate form of what originally was a thing worthy of respect, and +even of praise. At the Hôtel de Rambouillet, conversation was cultivated +as a fine art. There was, no doubt, something overstrained in the +standards which the ladies of that circle enforced. Their mutual +communication was all conducted in a peculiar style of language, the +natural deterioration of which was into a kind of euphuism, such as +English readers will remember to have seen exemplified in Walter Scott's +Sir Piercie Shafton. These ladies called each other, with demonstrative +fondness, "Ma précieuse." Hence at last the term _précieuse_ as a +designation of ridicule. Madame de Sévigné was a _précieuse_. But she, +with many of her peers, was too rich in sarcastic common sense to be a +_précieuse ridicule_. Molière himself, thrifty master of policy that he +was, took pains to explain that he did not satirize the real thing, but +only the affectation. + +"Tartuffe, or the Impostor," is perhaps the most celebrated of all +Molière's plays. Scarcely comedy, scarcely tragedy, it partakes of both +characters. Like tragedy, serious in purpose, it has a happy ending like +comedy. Pity and terror are absent; or, if not quite absent, these +sentiments are present raised only to a pitch distinctly below the +tragic. Indignation is the chief passion excited, or detestation, +perhaps, rather than indignation. This feeling is provided at last with +its full satisfaction in the condign punishment visited on the impostor. + +The original "Tartuffe," like the most of Molière's comedies, is written +in rhymed verse. We could not, with any effort, make the English-reading +student of Molière sufficiently feel how much is lost when the form is +lost which the creations of this great genius took, in their native +French, under his own master hand. A satisfactory metrical rendering is +out of the question. The sense, at least, if not the incommunicable +spirit, of the original, is very well given in Mr. C. H. Wall's version, +which we use. + +The story of "Tartuffe" is briefly this: Tartuffe, the hero, is a pure +villain. He mixes no adulteration of good in his composition. He is +hypocrisy itself, the strictly genuine article. Tartuffe has completely +imposed upon one Orgon, a man of wealth and standing. Orgon, with his +wife, and with his mother, in fact, believes in him absolutely. These +people have received the canting rascal into their house, and are about +to bestow upon him their daughter in marriage. The following scene from +act first shows the skill with which Molière could exhibit, in a few +strokes of bold exaggeration, the infatuation of Orgon's regard for +Tartuffe. Orgon has been absent from home. He returns, and meets +Cléante, his brother, whom, in his eagerness, he begs to excuse his not +answering a question just addressed to him: + + _Orgon (to Cléante)._ Brother, pray excuse me: you will kindly allow + me to allay my anxiety by asking news of the family. (_To Dorine, a + maid-servant._) Has every thing gone on well these last two days? What + has happened? How is every body? + + _Dor._ The day before yesterday our mistress was very feverish from + morning to night, and suffered from a most extraordinary headache. + + _Org._ And Tartuffe? + + _Dor._ Tartuffe! He is wonderfully well, stout, and fat with blooming + cheeks and ruddy lips. + + _Org._ Poor man! + + _Dor._ In the evening she felt very faint, and the pain in her head + was so great that she could not touch any thing at supper. + + _Org._ And Tartuffe? + + _Dor._ He ate his supper by himself before her, and very devoutly + devoured a brace of partridges and half a leg of mutton hashed. + + _Org._ Poor man! + + _Dor._ She spent the whole of the night without getting one wink of + sleep: she was very feverish, and we had to sit up with her until the + morning. + + _Org._ And Tartuffe? + + _Dor._ Overcome by a pleasant sleepiness, he passed from the table to + his room and got at once into his warmed bed, where he slept + comfortably till the next morning. + + _Org._ Poor man! + + _Dor._ At last, yielding to our persuasions, she consented to be bled, + and immediately felt relieved. + + _Org._ And Tartuffe? + + _Dor._ He took heart right valiantly, and fortifying his soul against + all evils, to make up for the blood which our lady had lost, drank at + breakfast four large bumpers of wine. + + _Org._ Poor man! + + _Dor._ Now, at last, they are both well: and I will go and tell our + lady how glad you are to hear of her recovery. + +Tartuffe repays the trust and love of his benefactor by making improper +advances to that benefactor's wife. Orgon's son, who does not share his +father's confidence in Tartuffe, happens to be an unseen witness of the +man's infamous conduct. He exposes the hypocrite to Orgon, with the +result of being himself expelled from the house for his pains; while +Tartuffe, in recompense for the injury done to his feelings, is +presented with a gift-deed of Orgon's estate. But now Orgon's wife +contrives to let her husband see and hear for himself the vileness of +Tartuffe. This done, Orgon confronts the villain, and, with just +indignation, orders him out of his house. Tartuffe reminds Orgon that +the shoe is on the other foot; that he is himself now owner there, and +that it is Orgon, instead of Tartuffe, who must go. Orgon has an +interview with his mother, who is exasperatingly sure still that +Tartuffe is a maligned good man: + + _Madame Pernelle._ I can never believe, my son, that he would commit + so base an action. + + _Org._ What? + + _Per._ Good people are always subject to envy. + + _Org._ What do you mean, mother? + + _Per._ That you live after a strange sort here, and that I am but too + well aware of the ill-will they all bear him. + + _Org._ What has this ill-will to do with what I have just told you? + + _Per._ I have told it you a hundred times when you were young, that in + this world virtue is ever liable to persecution, and that, although + the envious die, envy never dies. + + _Org._ But what has this to do with what has happened to-day? + + _Per._ They have concocted a hundred foolish stories against him. + + _Org._ I have already told you that I saw it all myself. + + _Per._ The malice of evil-disposed persons is very great. + + _Org._ You would make me swear, mother! I tell you that I saw his + audacious attempt with my own eyes. + + _Per._ Evil tongues have always some venom to pour forth; and here + below, there is nothing proof against them. + + _Org._ You are maintaining a very senseless argument. I saw it, I tell + you--saw it with my own eyes! what you can call s-a-w, saw! Must I din + it over and over into your ears, and shout as loud as half a dozen + people? + + _Per._ Gracious goodness! appearances often deceive us! We must not + always judge by what we see. + + _Org._ I shall go mad! + + _Per._ We are by nature prone to judge wrongly, and good is often + mistaken for evil. + + _Org._ I ought to look upon his desire of seducing my wife as + charitable? + + _Per._ You ought to have good reasons before you accuse another, and + you should have waited till you were quite sure of the fact. + + _Org._ Heaven save the mark! how could I be more sure? I suppose, + mother, I ought to have waited till--you will make me say something + foolish. + + _Per._ In short, his soul is possessed with too pure a zeal; and I + cannot possibly conceive that he would think of attempting what you + accuse him of. + + _Org._ If you were not my mother, I really don't know what I might now + say to you, you make me so savage. + +The short remainder of the scene has for its important idea the +suggestion that, under the existing circumstances, some sort of peace +ought to be patched up between Orgon and Tartuffe. Meantime one _Loyal_ +is observed coming, whereupon the fourth scene of act fifth opens: + + _Loy. (to Dorine at the farther part of the stage)._ Good-day, my dear + sister; pray let me speak to your master. + + _Dor._ He is with friends, and I do not think he can see any one just + now. + + _Loy._ I would not be intrusive. I feel sure that he will find nothing + unpleasant in my visit; in fact, I come for something which will be + very gratifying to him. + + _Dor._ What is your name? + + _Loy._ Only tell him that I come from Mr. Tartuffe for his benefit. + + _Dor. (to Orgon)._ It is a man who comes in a civil way from Mr. + Tartuffe, on some business which will make you glad, he says. + + _Clé. (to Orgon)._ You must see who it is and what the man wants. + + _Org. (to Cléante)._ He is coming, perhaps, to settle matters between + us in a friendly way. How, in this case, ought I to behave to him? + + _Clé._ Don't show any resentment, and, if he speaks of an agreement, + listen to him. + + _Loy. (to Orgon)._ Your servant, sir. May heaven punish whoever wrongs + you; and may it be as favorable to you, sir, as I wish! + + _Org. (aside to Cléante)._ This pleasant beginning agrees with my + conjectures, and argues some sort of reconciliation. + + _Loy._ All your family was always dear to me, and I served your + father. + + _Org._ I am sorry and ashamed to say that I do not know who you are, + neither do I remember your name. + + _Loy._ My name is Loyal; I was born in Normandy, and am a royal + bailiff in spite of envy. For the last forty years I have had the good + fortune to fill the office, thanks to heaven, with great credit; and I + come, sir, with your leave, to serve you the writ of a certain order. + + _Org._ What! you are here-- + + _Loy._ Gently, sir, I beg. It is merely a summons--a notice for you to + leave this place, you and yours; to take away all your goods and + chattels, and make room for others, without delay or adjournment, as + hereby decreed. + + _Org._ I! leave this place? + + _Loy._ Yes, sir, if you please. The house incontestably belongs, as + you are well aware, to the good Mr. Tartuffe. He is now lord and + master of your estates, according to a deed I have in my keeping. It + is in due form, and cannot be challenged. + + _Damis (to Mr. Loyal)._ This great impudence is, indeed, worthy of all + admiration. + + _Loy. (to Damis.)_ Sir, I have nothing at all to do with you. + (_Pointing to Orgon._) My business is with this gentleman. He is + tractable and gentle, and knows too well the duty of a gentleman to + try to oppose authority. + + _Org._ But-- + + _Loy._ Yes, sir; I know that you would not, for any thing, show + contumacy; and that you will allow me, like a reasonable man, to + execute the orders I have received. + +The scene gives in conclusion some spirited byplay of asides and +interruptions from indignant members of the family. Then follows scene +fifth, one exchange of conversation from which will sufficiently +indicate the progress of the plot: + + _Org._ Well, mother, you see whether I am right; and you can judge of + the rest by the writ. Do you at last acknowledge his rascality? + + _Per._ I am thunderstruck, and can scarcely believe my eyes and ears. + +The next scene introduces Valère, the noble lover of that daughter whom +the infatuated father was bent on sacrificing to Tartuffe. Valère comes +to announce that Tartuffe, the villain, has accused Orgon to the king. +Orgon must fly. Valère offers him his own carriage and money--will, in +fact, himself keep him company till he reaches a place of safety. As +Orgon, taking hasty leave of his family, turns to go, he is encountered +by--the following scene will show whom: + + _Tar. (stopping Orgon.)_ Gently, sir, gently; not so fast, I beg. You + have not far to go to find a lodging, and you are a prisoner in the + king's name. + + _Org._ Wretch! you had reserved this shaft for the last; by it you + finish me, and crown all your perfidies. + + _Tar._ Your abuse has no power to disturb me, and I know how to suffer + every thing for the sake of heaven. + + _Clé._ Your moderation is really great, we must acknowledge. + + _Da._ How impudently the infamous wretch sports with heaven! + + _Tar._ Your anger cannot move me. I have no other wish but to fulfill + my duty. + + _Marianne._ You may claim great glory from the performance of this + duty: it is a very honorable employment for you. + + _Tar._ The employment cannot be otherwise than glorious, when it comes + from the power that sends me here. + + _Org._ But do you remember that my charitable hand, ungrateful + scoundrel, raised you from a state of misery? + + _Tar._ Yes, I know what help I have received from you; but the + interest of my king is my first duty. The just obligation of this + sacred duty stifles in my heart all other claims; and I would + sacrifice to it friend, wife, relations, and myself with them. + + _Elmire._ The impostor! + + _Dor._ With what treacherous cunning he makes a cloak of all that men + revere!... + + _Tar. (to the Officer)._ I beg of you, sir, to deliver me from all + this noise, and to act according to the orders you have received. + + _Officer._ I have certainly put off too long the discharge of my duty, + and you very rightly remind me of it. To execute my order, follow me + immediately to the prison in which a place is assigned to you. + + _Tar._ Who? I, sir? + + _Officer._ Yes, you. + + _Tar._ Why to prison? + + _Officer._ To you I have no account to render. (_To Orgon._) Pray, + sir, recover from your great alarm. We live under a king [Louis XIV.] + who is an enemy to fraud--a king who can read the heart, and whom all + the arts of impostors cannot deceive. His great mind, endowed with + delicate discernment, at all times sees things in their true light.... + He annuls, by his sovereign will, the terms of the contract by which + you gave him [Tartuffe] your property. He moreover forgives you this + secret offense in which you were involved by the flight of your + friend. This to reward the zeal which you once showed for him in + maintaining his rights, and to prove that his heart, when it is least + expected, knows how to recompense a good action. Merit with him is + never lost, and he remembers good better than evil. + + _Dor._ Heaven be thanked! + + _Per._ Ah! I breathe again. + + _El._ What a favorable end to our troubles! + + _Mar._ Who would have foretold it? + + _Org. (to Tartuffe as the Officer leads him off)._ Ah, wretch! now you + are-- + +Tartuffe thus disposed of, the play promptly ends with a vanishing +glimpse afforded us of a happy marriage in prospect for Valère with the +daughter. + +"The Tartuffian Age" is the title of a late Italian book admirably +translated into English by an American, Mr. W. A. Nettleton. That such +should be the Italian author's chosen title for his work incidentally +shows how cosmopolitan is our French dramatist's fame. The book is a +kindly-caustic satire on the times in which we live, found by the +satirist to be abundant in the quality of Tartuffe, that leaven of the +Pharisees which is hypocrisy. + +Molière is said to have had a personal aim in drawing the character of +Tartuffe. This, at least, was like Dante. There is not much sweet +laughter in such a comedy. But there is a power that is dreadful. + +Each succeeding generation of Frenchmen supplies its bright and +ingenious wits who produce comedy. But as there is no second +Shakespeare, so there is but one Molière. + + + + +VIII. + +PASCAL. + +1623-1662. + + +Pascal's fame is distinctly the fame of a man of genius. He achieved +notable things. But it is what he might have done, still more than what +he did, that fixes his estimation in the world of mind. Blaise Pascal is +one of the chief intellectual glories of France. + +Pascal, the boy, had a strong natural bent toward mathematics. The story +is that his father, in order to turn his son's whole force on the study +of languages, put out of the lad's reach all books treating his favorite +subject. Thus shut up to his own resources the masterful little fellow, +about his eighth year, drawing charcoal diagrams on the floor, made +perceptible progress in working out geometry for himself. At sixteen he +produced a treatise on conic sections that excited the wonder and +incredulity of Descartes. Later he experimented in barometry, and +pursued investigations in mechanics. Later still he made what seemed to +be approaches toward Newton's binomial theorem. + +Vivid religious convictions meantime deeply affected Pascal's mind. His +health, never robust, began to give way. His physicians prescribed +mental diversion, and forced him into society. That medicine, taken at +first with reluctance, proved dangerously delightful to Pascal's +vivacious and susceptible spirit. His pious sister Jacqueline warned her +brother that he was going too far. But he was still more effectively +warned by an accident, in which he almost miraculously escaped from +death. Withdrawing from the world, he adopted a course of ascetic +practices, in which he continued till he died--in his thirty-ninth year. +He wore about his waist an iron girdle armed with sharp points; and this +he would press smartly with his elbow when he detected himself at fault +in his spirit. + +Notwithstanding what Pascal did or attempted worthy of fame, in science, +it was his fortune to become chiefly renowned by literary achievement. +His, in fact, would now be a half-forgotten name if he had not written +the "Provincial Letters" and the "Thoughts." + +The "Provincial Letters" is an abbreviated title. The title in full +originally was, "Letters written by Louis de Montalte to a Provincial, +one of his friends, and to the Reverend Fathers, the Jesuits, on the +subject of the morality and the policy of those Fathers." + +Of the "Provincial Letters," several English translations have been +made. No one of these that we have been able to find seems entirely +satisfactory. There is an elusive quality to Pascal's style, and in +losing this you seem to lose something of Pascal's thought. For with +Pascal the thought and the style penetrate each other inextricably and +almost indistinguishably. You cannot print a smile, an inflection of the +voice, a glance of the eye, a French shrug of the shoulders. And such +modulations of the thought seem everywhere to lurk in the turns and +phrases of Pascal's inimitable French. To translate them is impossible. + +Pascal is beyond question the greatest modern master of that +indescribably delicate art in expression, which, from its illustrious +ancient exemplar, has received the name of the Socratic irony. With this +fine weapon, in great part, it was, wielded like a magician's invisible +wand, that Pascal did his memorable execution on the Jesuitical system +of morals and casuistry, in the "Provincial Letters." In great part, we +say; for the flaming moral earnestness of the man could not abide only +to play with his adversaries to the end of the famous dispute. His +lighter cimeter blade he flung aside before he had done, and, toward the +last, brandished a sword that had weight as well as edge and temper. The +skill that could halve a feather in the air with the sword of Saladin +was proved to be also strength that could cleave a suit of mail with the +brand of Richard the Lion-hearted. + +It is generally acknowledged that the French language has never in any +hands been a more obedient instrument of intellectual power than it was +in the hands of Pascal. He is rated the earliest writer to produce what +may be called the final French prose. "The creator of French style," +Villemain boldly calls him. Pascal's style remains to this day almost +perfectly free from adhesions of archaism in diction and in +construction. Pascal showed, as it were at once, what the French +language was capable of doing in response to the demands of a master. It +was the joint achievement of genius, of taste, and of skill, working +together in an exquisite balance and harmony. + +But let us be entirely frank. The "Provincial Letters" of Pascal are +now, to the general reader, not so interesting as from their fame one +would seem entitled to expect. You cannot read them intelligently +without considerable previous study. You need to have learned, +imperfectly, with labor, a thousand things that every contemporary +reader of Pascal perfectly knew as if by simply breathing--the necessary +knowledge being then, so to speak, abroad in the air. Even thus you +cannot possibly derive that vivid delight from perusing in bulk the +"Provincial Letters" now, which the successive numbers of the series, +appearing at brief irregular intervals, communicated to the eagerly +expecting French public, at a time when the topics discussed were topics +of a present and pressing practical interest. Still, with whatever +disadvantage unavoidably attending, we must give our readers a taste of +the quality of Pascal's "Provincial Letters." + +We select a passage at the commencement of the "Seventh Letter." We use +the translation of Mr. Thomas M'Crie. This succeeds very well in +conveying the sense, though it necessarily fails to convey either the +vivacity or the eloquence, of the incomparable original. The first +occasion of the "Provincial Letters" was a championship proposed to +Pascal to be taken up by him on behalf of his beleaguered and endangered +friend Arnauld, the Port-Royalist. (Port Royal was a Roman Catholic +abbey situated some eight miles to the south-west of Versailles, and +therefore not very remote from Paris.) Arnauld was "for substance of +doctrine" really a Calvinist, though he quite sincerely disclaimed being +such; and it was for his defense of Calvinism (under its ancient form of +Augustinianism) that he was threatened, through Jesuit enmity, with +condemnation for heretical opinion. The problem was to enlist the +sentiment of general society in his favor. The friends in council at +Port Royal said to Pascal, "You must do this." Pascal said, "I will +try." In a few days the first letter of a series destined to such fame +was submitted for judgment to Port Royal, and approved. It was +printed--anonymously. The success was instantaneous and brilliant. A +second letter followed, and a third. Soon, from strict personal defense +of Arnauld, the writer went on to take up a line of offense and +aggression. He carried the war into Africa. He attacked the Jesuits as +teachers of immoral doctrine. + +The plan of these later letters was to have a Paris gentleman write to a +friend of his in the country (the "provincial"), detailing interviews +held by him with a Jesuit priest of the city. The supposed Parisian +gentleman in his interviews with the supposed Jesuit father affects the +air of a very simple-hearted seeker after truth. He represents himself +as, by his innocent-seeming docility, leading his Jesuit teacher on to +make the most astonishingly frank exposures of the secrets of the +casuistical system held and taught by his order. + +The "Seventh Letter" tells the story of how Jesuit confessors were +instructed to manage their penitents in a matter made immortally famous +by the wit and genius of Pascal, the matter of "directing the +intention." There is nothing in the "Provincial Letters" better suited +than this at the same time to interest the general reader, and to +display the quality of these renowned productions. (We do not scruple to +change our chosen translation a little at points where it seems to us +susceptible of some easy improvement.) Remember it is an imaginary +Parisian gentleman who now writes to a friend of his in the country. Our +extract introduces first the Jesuit father speaking: + + "You know," he said, "that the ruling passion of persons in that rank + of life [the rank of gentleman] is 'the point of honor,' which is + perpetually driving them into acts of violence apparently quite at + variance with Christian piety; so that, in fact, they would be almost + all of them excluded from our confessionals, had not our fathers + relaxed a little from the strictness of religion, to accommodate + themselves to the weakness of humanity. Anxious to keep on good terms, + both with the gospel, by doing their duty to God, and with the men of + the world, by showing charity to their neighbor, they needed all the + wisdom they possessed to devise expedients for so nicely adjusting + matters as to permit these gentlemen to adopt the methods usually + resorted to for vindicating their honor without wounding their + consciences, and thus reconcile things apparently so opposite to each + other as piety and the point of honor."... + + "I should certainly [so replies M. Montalte, with the most exquisite + irony crouched under a cover of admiring simplicity]--I should + certainly have considered the thing perfectly impracticable, if I had + not known, from what I have seen of your fathers, that they are + capable of doing with ease what is impossible to other men. This led + me to anticipate that they must have discovered some method for + meeting the difficulty--a method which I admire, even before knowing + it, and which I pray you to explain to me." + + "Since that is your view of the matter," replied the monk, "I cannot + refuse you. Know, then, that this marvelous principle is our grand + method of _directing the intention_--the importance of which, in our + moral system, is such, that I might almost venture to compare it with + the doctrine of _probability_. You have had some glimpses of it in + passing, from certain maxims which I mentioned to you. For example, + when I was showing you how servants might execute certain troublesome + jobs with a safe conscience, did you not remark that it was simply by + diverting their intention from the evil to which they were accessory, + to the profit which they might reap from the transaction? Now, that is + what we call _directing the intention_. You saw, too, that, were it + not for a similar divergence of _the mind_, those who give money for + benefices might be downright simoniacs. But I will now show you this + grand method in all its glory, as it applies to the subject of + homicide--a crime which it justifies in a thousand instances--in order + that, from this startling result, you may form an idea of all that it + is calculated to effect. + + "I foresee already," said I, "that, according to this mode, every + thing will be permitted: it will stick at nothing." + + "You always fly from the one extreme to the other," replied the monk; + "prithee, avoid that habit. For just to show you that we are far from + permitting every thing, let me tell you that we never suffer such a + thing as a formal intention to sin, with the sole design of sinning; + and, if any person whatever should persist in having no other end but + evil in the evil that he does, we break with him at once; such conduct + is diabolical. This holds true, without exception of age, sex, or + rank. But when the person is not of such a wretched disposition as + this, we try to put in practice our method of _directing the + intention_, which consists in his proposing to himself, as the end of + his actions, some allowable object. Not that we do not endeavor, as + far as we can, to dissuade men from doing things forbidden; but, when + we cannot prevent the action, we at least purify the motive, and thus + correct the viciousness of the means by the goodness of the end. Such + is the way in which our fathers have contrived to permit those acts of + violence to which men usually resort in vindication of their honor. + They have no more to do than to turn off their intention from the + desire of vengeance, which is criminal, and direct it to a desire to + defend their honor, which, according to us, is quite warrantable. And + in this way our doctors discharge all their duty toward God and + toward man. By permitting the action, they gratify the world and by + purifying the intention, they give satisfaction to the gospel. This is + a secret, sir, which was entirely unknown to the ancients; the world + is indebted for the discovery entirely to our doctors. You understand + it now, I hope?" + + "Perfectly," was my reply. "To men you grant the outward material + effect of the action, and to God you give the inward and spiritual + movement of the intention; and, by this equitable partition, you form + an alliance between the laws of God and the laws of men. But, my dear + sir, to be frank with you, I can hardly trust your premises, and I + suspect that your authors will tell another tale." + + "You do me injustice," rejoined the monk; "I advance nothing but what + I am ready to prove, and that by such a rich array of passages, that + altogether their number, their authority, and their reasonings, will + fill you with admiration. To show you, for example, the alliance which + our fathers have formed between the maxims of the gospel and those of + the world, by thus regulating the intention, let me refer you to + Reginald. (_In Praxi._, liv. xxi., num. 62, p. 260.) [These, and all + that follow, are verifiable citations from real and undisputed Jesuit + authorities, not to this day repudiated by that order.] 'Private + persons are forbidden to avenge themselves; for St. Paul says to the + Romans (ch. 12th), "Recompense to no man evil for evil;" and + Ecclesiasticus says (ch. 28th), "He that taketh vengeance shall draw + on himself the vengeance of God, and his sins will not be forgotten." + Besides all that is said in the gospel about forgiving offenses, as in + the 6th and 18th chapters of St. Matthew.'" + + "Well, father, if after that, he [Reginald] says any thing contrary to + the Scripture, it will, at least, not be from lack of scriptural + knowledge. Pray, how does he conclude?" + + "You shall hear," he said. "From all this it appears that a military + man may demand satisfaction on the spot from the person who has + injured him--not, indeed, with the intention of rendering evil for + evil, but with that of preserving his honor--_non ut malum pro malo + reddat, sed ut conservat honorem_. See you how carefully, because the + Scripture condemns it, they guard against the intention of rendering + evil for evil? This is what they will tolerate on no account. Thus + Lessius observes (_De Just._, liv. ii., c. 9, d. 12, n. 79), that, 'If + a man has received a blow on the face, he must on no account have an + intention to avenge himself; but he may lawfully have an intention to + avert infamy, and may, with that view, repel the insult immediately, + even at the point of the sword--_etiam cum gladio_.' So far are we + from permitting any one to cherish the design of taking vengeance on + his enemies, that our fathers will not allow any even to _wish their + death_--by a movement of hatred. 'If your enemy is disposed to injure + you,' says Escobar, 'you have no right to wish his death, by a + movement of hatred; though you may, with a view to save yourself from + harm.' So legitimate, indeed, is this wish, with such an intention, + that our great Hurtado de Mendoza says that 'we may _pray God_ to + visit with speedy death those who are bent on persecuting us, if there + is no other way of escaping from it.'" (In his book, _De Spe_, vol. + ii., d. 15, sec. 4, 48.) + + "May it please your reverence," said I, "the Church has forgotten to + insert a petition to that effect among her prayers." + + "They have not put every thing into the prayers that one may lawfully + ask of God," answered the monk. "Besides, in the present case, the + thing was impossible, for this same opinion is of more recent standing + than the Breviary. You are not a good chronologist, friend. But, not + to wander from the point, let me request your attention to the + following passage, cited by Diana from Gaspar Hurtado (_De Sub. + Pecc._, diff. 9; Diana, p. 5; tr. 14, r. 99), one of Escobar's + four-and-twenty fathers: 'An incumbent may, without any mortal sin, + desire the decease of a life-renter on his benefice, and a son that of + his father, and rejoice when it happens; provided always it is for the + sake of the profit that is to accrue from the event, and not from + personal aversion.'" + + "Good," cried I. "That is certainly a very happy hit, and I can easily + see that the doctrine admits of a wide application. But yet there are + certain cases, the solution of which, though of great importance for + gentlemen, might present still greater difficulties." + + "Propose such, if you please, that we may see," said the monk. + + "Show me, with all your directing of the intention," returned I, "that + it is allowable to fight a duel." + + "Our great Hurtado de Mendoza," said the father, "will satisfy you on + that point in a twinkling. 'If a gentleman,' says he, in a passage + cited by Diana, 'who is challenged to fight a duel, is well known to + have no religion, and if the vices to which he is openly and + unscrupulously addicted are such as would lead people to conclude, in + the event of his refusing to fight, that he is actuated, not by the + fear of God, but by cowardice, and induce them to say of him that he + was a _hen_, and not a man--_gallina, et non vir_; in that case he + may, to save his honor, appear at the appointed spot--not, indeed, + with the express intention of fighting a duel, but merely with that of + defending himself, should the person who challenged him come there + unjustly to attack him. His action in this case, viewed by itself, + will be perfectly indifferent; for what moral evil is there in one's + stepping into a field, taking a stroll in expectation of meeting a + person, and defending one's self in the event of being attacked? And + thus the gentleman is guilty of no sin whatever; for, in fact, it + cannot be called accepting a challenge at all, his intention being + directed to other circumstances, and the acceptance of a challenge + consisting in an express intention to fight, which we are supposing + the gentleman never had.'" + +The humorous irony of Pascal, in the "Provincial Letters," plays like +the diffusive sheen of an aurora borealis over the whole surface of the +composition. It does not often deliver itself startlingly in sudden +discharges as of lightning. You need to school your sense somewhat, not +to miss a fine effect now and then. Consider the broadness and +coarseness in pleasantry, that, before Pascal, had been common, almost +universal, in controversy, and you will better understand what a +creative touch it was of genius, of feeling, and of taste, that brought +into literature the far more than Attic, the ineffable Christian, purity +of that wit and humor in the "Provincial Letters" which will make these +writings live as long as men anywhere continue to read the productions +of past ages. Erasmus, perhaps, came the nearest of all modern +predecessors to anticipating the purified pleasantry of Pascal. + +It will be interesting and instructive to see Pascal's own statement of +his reasons for adopting the bantering style which he did in the +"Provincial Letters," as well as of the sense of responsibility to be +faithful and fair, under which he wrote. Pascal says: + + I have been asked why I employed a pleasant, jocose, and diverting + style. I reply ... I thought it a duty to write so as to be + comprehended by women, and men of the world, that they might know the + danger of their maxims and propositions which were then universally + propagated.... I have been asked, lastly, if I myself read all the + books, which I quoted. I answer, No. If I had done so, I must have + passed a great part of my life in reading very bad books; but I read + Escobar twice through, and I employed some of my friends in reading + the others. But I did not make use of a single passage without having + myself read it in the book from which it is cited, without having + examined the subject of which it treats, and without having read what + went before and followed, so that I might run no risk of quoting an + objection as an answer which would have been blameworthy and unfair. + +Of the wit of the "Provincial Letters," their wit and their +controversial effectiveness, the specimens given will have afforded +readers some approximate idea. We must deny ourselves the gratification +of presenting a brief passage, which we had selected and translated for +the purpose, to exemplify from the same source Pascal's serious +eloquence. It was Voltaire who said of these productions: "Molière's +best comedies do not excel them in wit, nor the compositions of Bossuet +in sublimity." Something of Bossuet's sublimity, or of a sublimity +perhaps finer than Bossuet's, our readers will discover in citations to +follow from the "Thoughts." + +Pascal's "Thoughts," the printed book, has a remarkable history. It was +a posthumous publication. The author died, leaving behind him a +considerable number of detached fragments of composition, first jottings +of thought on a subject that had long occupied his mind. These precious +manuscripts were almost undecipherable. The writer had used for his +purpose any chance scrap of paper--old wrapping, for example, or margin +of letter--that, at the critical moment of happy conception, was nearest +his hand. Sentences, words even, were often left unfinished. There was +no coherence, no sequence, no arrangement. It was, however, among his +friends perfectly well understood that Pascal for years had meditated a +work on religion designed to demonstrate the truth of Christianity. For +this he had been thinking arduously. Fortunately he had even, in a +memorable conversation, sketched his project at some length to his Port +Royal friends. With so much, scarcely more, in the way of clew, to guide +their editorial work, these friends prepared and issued a volume of +Pascal's "Thoughts." With the most loyal intentions, the Port-Royalists +unwisely edited too much. They pieced out incompletenesses, they +provided clauses or sentences of connection, they toned down expressions +deemed too bold, they improved Pascal's style! After having suffered +such things from his friends, the posthumous Pascal, later, fell into +the hands of an enemy. The infidel Condorcet published an edition of the +"Thoughts." Whereas the Port-Royalists had suppressed to placate the +Jesuits, Condorcet suppressed to please the "philosophers." Between +those on the one side and these on the other, Pascal's "Thoughts" had +experienced what might well have killed any production of the human mind +that could die. It was not till near the middle of the present century +that Cousin called the attention of the world to the fact that we had +not yet, but that we still might have, a true edition of Pascal's +"Thoughts." M. Faugère took the hint, and, consulting the original +manuscripts, preserved in the national library at Paris, produced, with +infinite editorial labor, almost two hundred years after the thinker's +death, the first satisfactory edition of Pascal's "Thoughts." Since +Faugère, M. Havet has also published an edition of Pascal's works +entire, by him now first adequately annotated and explained. The +arrangement of the "Thoughts" varies in order, according to the varying +judgment of editors. We use, for our extracts, a current translation, +which we modify at our discretion by comparison of the original text as +given in M. Havet's elaborate work. + +Our first extract is a passage in which the writer supposes a skeptic of +the more shallow, trifling sort, to speak. This skeptic represents his +own state of mind in the following strain as of soliloquy: + + "I do not know who put me into the world, nor what the world is, nor + what I am myself. I am in a frightful ignorance of all things. I do + not know what my body is, what my senses are, what my soul is, and + that very part of me which thinks what I am saying, which reflects + upon every thing and upon itself, and is no better acquainted with + itself than with any thing else. I see these appalling spaces of the + universe which inclose me, and I find myself tethered in one corner of + this immense expansion without knowing why I am stationed in this + place rather than in another, or why this moment of time which is + given me to live is assigned me at this point rather than at another + of the whole eternity that has preceded me, and of that which is to + follow me. + + "I see nothing but infinities on every side, which inclose me like an + atom, and like a shadow which endures but for an instant, and returns + no more. + + "All that I know is, that I am soon to die; but what I am most + ignorant of is, that very death which I am unable to avoid. + + "As I know not whence I came, so I know not whither I go; and I know + only, that in leaving this world I fall forever either into + nothingness or into the hands of an angry God, without knowing which + of these two conditions is to be eternally my lot. Such is my + state--full of misery, of weakness, and of uncertainty. + + "And from all this I conclude that I ought to pass all the days of my + life without a thought of trying to learn what is to befall me + hereafter. Perhaps in my doubts I might find some enlightenment; but I + am unwilling to take the trouble, or go a single step in search of it; + and, treating with contempt those who perplex themselves with such + solicitude, my purpose is to go forward without forethought and + without fear to try the great event, and passively to approach death + in uncertainty of the eternity of my future condition." + + Who would desire to have for a friend a man who discourses in this + manner? Who would select such a one for the confidant of his affairs? + Who would have recourse to such a one in his afflictions? And, in + fine, for what use of life could such a man be destined? + +The central thought on which the projected apologetic of Pascal was to +revolve as on a pivot is, the contrasted greatness and wretchedness of +man--with Divine Revelation, in its doctrine of a fall on man's part +from original nobleness, supplying the needed link, and the only link +conceivable, of explanation, to unite the one with the other, the human +greatness with the human wretchedness. This contrast of dignity and +disgrace should constantly be in the mind of the reader of the +"Thoughts" of Pascal. It will often be found to throw a very necessary +light upon the meaning of the separate fragments that make up the +series. + +We now present a brief fragment asserting, with vivid metaphor, at the +same time the fragility of man's frame and the majesty of man's nature. +This is a very famous "Thought": + + Man is but a reed, the weakest in nature, but he is a thinking reed. + It is not necessary that the entire universe arm itself to crush him. + An exhalation, a drop of water, suffices to kill him. But were the + universe to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which + kills him, because he knows that he is dying, and knows the advantage + that the universe has over him. The universe knows nothing of it. + + Our whole dignity consists, then, in thought. + +One is reminded of the memorable saying of a celebrated philosopher: "In +the universe there is nothing great but man; in man there is nothing +great but mind." + +What a sudden, almost ludicrous, reduction in scale, the greatness of +Cæsar, as conqueror, is made to suffer when looked at in the way in +which Pascal asks you to look at it in the following "Thought"! +(Remember that Cæsar, when he began fighting for universal empire, was +fifty-one years of age:) + + Cæsar was too old, it seems to me, to amuse himself with conquering + the world. This amusement was well enough for Augustus or Alexander; + they were young people, whom it is difficult to stop; but Cæsar ought + to have been more mature. + +That is as if you should reverse the tube of your telescope, with the +result of seeing the object observed made smaller instead of larger. + +The following sentence might be a "Maxim" of La Rochefoucauld. Pascal +was, no doubt, a debtor to him as well as to Montaigne: + + I lay it down as a fact, that, if all men knew what others say of them + there would not be four friends in the world. + +Here is one of the most current of Pascal's sayings: + + Rivers are highways that move on and bear us whither we wish to go. + +The following "Thought" condenses the substance of the book proposed +into three short sentences: + + The knowledge of God without that of our misery produces pride. The + knowledge of our misery without that of God gives despair. The + knowledge of Jesus Christ is intermediate, because therein we find God + and our misery. + +The prevalent seeming severity and intellectual coldness of Pascal's +"Thoughts" yield to a touch from the heart, and become pathetic, in such +utterances as the following, supposed to be addressed by the Saviour to +the penitent seeking to be saved: + + Console thyself; thou wouldst not seek me if thou hadst not found me. + + I thought on thee in my agony; such drops of blood I shed for thee. + +It is austerity again, but not unjust austerity, that speaks as follows: + + Religion is a thing so great that those who would not take the pains + to seek it if it is obscure, should be deprived of it. What do they + complain of, then, if it is such that they could find it by seeking + it? + +But we must take our leave of Pascal. His was a suffering as well as an +aspiring spirit. He suffered because he aspired. But, at least, he did +not suffer long. He aspired himself quickly away. Toward the last he +wrought at a problem in his first favorite study, that of mathematics, +and left behind him, as a memorial of his later life, a remarkable +result of investigation on the curve called the cycloid. During his +final illness he pierced himself through with many sorrows--unnecessary +sorrows, sorrows, too, that bore a double edge, hurting not only him, +but also his kindred--in practicing, from mistaken religious motives, a +hard repression upon his natural instinct to love, and to welcome love. +He thought that God should be all, the creature nothing. The thought was +half true, but it was half false. God should, indeed, be all. But, in +God, the creature also should be something. + +In French history--we may say, in the history of the world--if there are +few brighter, there also are few purer, fames than the fame of Pascal. + + + + +IX. + +MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ. + +1626-1696. + + +Of Madame de Sévigné, if it were permitted here to make a pun and a +paradox, one might justly and descriptively say that she was not a woman +of letters, but only a woman of--letters. For Madame de Sévigné's +addiction to literature was not at all that of an author by profession. +She simply wrote admirable private letters in great profusion, and +became famous thereby. + +Madame de Sévigné's fame is partly her merit, but it is also partly her +good fortune. She was rightly placed to be what she was. This will +appear from a sketch of her life, and still more from specimens to be +exhibited of her own epistolary writing. + +Marie de Rabutin-Chantal was her maiden name. She was born a baroness. +She was married, young, a marchioness. First early left an orphan, she +was afterward early left a widow--not too early, however, to have become +the mother of two children, a son and a daughter. The daughter grew to +be the life-long idol of the widowed mother's heart. The letters she +wrote to this daughter, married and living remote from her, compose the +greater part of that voluminous epistolary production by which Madame de +Sévigné became, without her ever aiming at such a result, or probably +ever thinking of it, one of the classics of the French language. + +Madame de Sévigné was wealthy as orphan heiress, and she should have +been wealthy as widow. But her husband was profligate, and he wasted her +substance. She turned out to be a thoroughly capable woman of affairs +who managed her property well. During her long and stainless +widowhood--her husband fell in a shameful duel when she was but +twenty-five years old, and she lived to be seventy--she divided her +time between her estate, "The Rocks," in Brittany, and her residence in +Paris. This period was all embraced within the protracted reign of Louis +XIV., perhaps upon the whole the most memorable age in the history of +France. + +Beautiful, and, if not brilliantly beautiful, at least, brilliantly +witty, Madame de Sévigné was virtuous--in that chief sense of feminine +virtue--amid an almost universal empire of profligacy around her. Her +social advantages were unsurpassed, and her social success was equal to +her advantages. She had the woman courtier's supreme triumph in being +once led out to dance by the king--her own junior by a dozen years--no +vulgar king, remember, but the "great" Louis XIV. Her cynical cousin, +himself a writer of power, who had been repulsed in dishonorable +proffers of love by the young marchioness during the lifetime of her +husband--we mean Count Bussy--says, in a scurrilous work of his, that +Madame de Sévigné remarked, on returning to her seat after her +dancing-bout with the king, that Louis possessed great qualities, and +would certainly obscure the luster of all his predecessors. "I could not +help laughing in her face," the ungallant cousin declared, "seeing what +had produced this panegyric." Probably, indeed, the young woman was +pleased. But, whatever may have been her faults or her follies, nothing +can rob Madame de Sévigné of the glory that is hers, in having been +strong enough in womanly and motherly honor to preserve, against many +dazzling temptations, amid general bad example, and even under malignant +aspersions, a chaste and spotless name. When it is added that, besides +access to the royal court itself, this gifted woman enjoyed the familiar +acquaintance of La Rochefoucauld--with other high-bred wits, less +famous, not a few--enough will have been said to show that her position +was such as to give her talent its best possible chance. The French +history of the times of Louis XIV. is hinted in glimpses the most vivid +and the most suggestive, throughout the whole series of the letters. + +We owe it to our readers (and to Madame de Sévigné no less) first of all +to let them see a specimen of the affectionate adulation that this +French woman of rank and of fashion, literally in almost every letter of +hers, effuses on her daughter--a daughter who, by the way, seems very +languidly to have responded to such demonstrations: + + THE ROCKS, Sunday, June 28, 1671. + + You have amply made up to me my late losses; I have received two + letters from you which have filled me with transports of joy. The + pleasure I take in reading them is beyond all imagination. If I have + in any way contributed to the improvement of your style, I did it in + the thought that I was laboring for the pleasure of others, not for my + own. But Providence, who has seen fit to separate us so often, and to + place us at such immense distances from each other, has repaid me a + little for the privation in the charms of your correspondence, and + still more in the satisfaction you express in your situation, and the + beauty of your castle; you represent it to me with an air of grandeur + and magnificence that enchants me. I once saw a similar account of it + by the first Madame de Grignan; but I little thought at that time that + all these beauties were to be one day at your command. I am very much + obliged to you for having given me so particular an account of it. If + I could be tired in reading your letters, it would not only betray a + very bad taste in me, but would likewise show that I could have very + little love or friendship for you. Divest yourself of the dislike you + have taken to circumstantial details. I have often told you, and you + ought yourself to feel the truth of this remark, that they are as dear + to us from those we love as they are tedious and disagreeable from + others. If they are displeasing to us, it is only from the + indifference we feel for those who write them. Admitting this + observation to be true, I leave you to judge what pleasure yours + afford me. It is a fine thing truly to play the great lady, as you do + at present. + +Conceive the foregoing multiplied by the whole number of the separate +letters composing the correspondence, and you will have no exaggerated +idea of the display that Madame de Sévigné makes of her regard for her +daughter. This regard was a passion, morbid, no doubt, by excess, and, +even at that, extravagantly demonstrated; but it was fundamentally +sincere. Madame de Sévigné idealized her absent daughter, and literally +"loved but only her." We need not wholly admire such maternal +affection. But we should not criticise it too severely. + +We choose next a marvelously vivid "instantaneous view" in words, of a +court afternoon and evening at Versailles. This letter, too is addressed +to the daughter--Madame de Grignan, by her married name. It bears date, +"Paris, Wednesday, 29th July." The year is 1676, and the writer is just +fifty: + + I was at Versailles last Saturday with the Villarses.... At three the + king, the queen, Monsieur [eldest brother to the king], Madame [that + brother's wife], Mademoiselle [that brother's eldest unmarried + daughter], and every thing else which is royal, together with Madame + de Montespan [the celebrated mistress of the king] and train, and all + the courtiers, and all the ladies--all, in short, which constitutes + the court of France, is assembled in the beautiful apartment of the + king's, which you remember. All is furnished divinely, all is + magnificent. Such a thing as heat is unknown; you pass from one place + to another without the slightest pressure. A game at _reversis_ [the + description is of a gambling scene, in which Dangeau figures as a cool + and skillful gamester] gives the company a form and a settlement. The + king and Madame de Montespan keep a bank together; different tables + are occupied by Monsieur, the queen, and Madame de Soubise, Dangeau + and party, Langlée and party. Everywhere you see heaps of louis d'ors; + they have no other counters. I saw Dangeau play, and thought what + fools we all were beside him. He dreams of nothing but what concerns + the game; he wins where others lose: he neglects nothing, profits by + every thing, never has his attention diverted; in short his science + bids defiance to chance. Two hundred thousand francs in ten days, a + hundred thousand crowns in a month, these are the pretty memorandums + he puts down in his pocket-book. He was kind enough to say that I was + partners with him, so that I got an excellent seat. I made my + obeisance to the king, as you told me; and he returned it as if I had + been young and handsome.... The duke said a thousand kind things + without minding a word he uttered. Marshal de Lorgnes attacked me in + the name of the Chevalier de Grignan; in short, _tutti quanti_ [the + whole company]. You know what it is to get a word from every body you + meet. Madame de Montespan talked to me of Bourbon, and asked me how I + liked Vichi, and whether the place did me good. She said that Bourbon, + instead of curing a pain in one of her knees, injured both.... Her + size is reduced by a good half, and yet her complexion, her eyes, and + her lips, are as fine as ever. She was dressed all in French point, + her hair in a thousand ringlets, the two side ones hanging low on her + cheeks, black ribbons on her head, pearls (the same that belonged to + Madame de l'Hôpital), the loveliest diamond earrings, three or four + bodkins--nothing else on the head; in short a triumphant beauty, + worthy the admiration of all the foreign embassadors. She was accused + of preventing the whole French nation from seeing the king; she has + restored him, you see, to their eyes; and you cannot conceive the joy + it has given everybody, and the splendor it has thrown upon the court. + This charming confusion, without confusion, of all which is the most + select, continues from three till six. If couriers arrive, the king + retires a moment to read the despatches and returns. There is always + some music going on, to which he listens, and which has an excellent + effect. He talks with such of the ladies as are accustomed to enjoy + that honor.... At six the carriages are at the door. The king is in + one of them with Madame de Montespan, Monsieur and Madame de Thianges, + and honest d'Hendicourt in a fool's paradise on the stool. You know + how these open carriages are made; they do not sit face to face, but + all looking the same way. The queen occupies another with the + princess; and the rest come flocking after, as it may happen. There + are then gondolas on the canal, and music; and at ten they come back, + and then there is a play; and twelve strikes, and they go to supper; + and thus rolls round the Saturday. If I were to tell you how often you + were asked after, how many questions were put to me without waiting + for answers, how often I neglected to answer, how little they cared, + and how much less I did, you would see the _iniqua corte_ [wicked + court] before you in all its perfection. However, it never was so + pleasant before, and everybody wishes it may last. + +There is your picture. Picture, pure and simple, it is--comment none, +least of all, moralizing comment. The wish is sighed by "everybody," +that such pleasant things may "last." Well, they did last the writer's +time. But meanwhile the French revolution was a-preparing. A hundred +years later it will come, with its terrible reprisals. + +We have gone away from the usual translations to find the foregoing +extract in an article published forty years ago and more, in the +"Edinburgh Review." Again we draw from the same source--this time, the +description of a visit paid by a company of grand folks, of whom the +writer of the letter was one, to an iron-foundery: + + FRIDAY, _1st Oct._ (1677). + + Yesterday evening at Cone we descended into a veritable hell, the true + forges of Vulcan. Eight or ten Cyclops were at work, forging, not arms + for Æneas, but anchors for ships. You never saw strokes redoubled so + justly nor with so admirable a cadence. We stood in the midst of four + furnaces; and the demons came passing about us, all melting in sweat, + with pale faces, wild-staring eyes, savage mustaches, and hair long + and black--a sight enough to frighten less well-bred folks than + ourselves. As for me, I could not comprehend the possibility of + refusing any thing which these gentlemen, in their hell, might have + chosen to exact. We got out at last, by the help of a shower of + silver, with which we took care to refresh their souls, and facilitate + our exit. + +Once more: + + PARIS, _29th November_ (1679). + + I have been to the wedding of Madame de Louvois. How shall I describe + it? Magnificence, illuminations, all France, dresses all gold and + brocade, jewels, braziers full of fire, and stands full of flowers, + confusions of carriages, cries out of doors, lighted torches, pushings + back, people run over; in short, a whirlwind, a distraction; questions + without answers, compliments without knowing what is said, civilities + without knowing who is spoken to, feet entangled in trains. From the + midst of all this issue inquiries after your health, which not being + answered as quick as lightning, the inquirers pass on, contented to + remain in the state of ignorance and indifference in which they [the + inquiries] were made. O vanity of vanities! Pretty little De Mouchy + has had the small-pox. O vanity, _et cætera_! + +Yet again. The gay writer has been sobered, perhaps hurt, by a friend's +frankly writing to her, "You are old." To her daughter: + + So you were struck with the expression of Madame de la Fayette, + blended with so much friendship. 'Twas a truth, I own, which I ought + to have borne in mind; and yet I must confess it astonished me, for I + do not yet perceive in myself any such decay. Nevertheless, I cannot + help making many reflections and calculations, and I find the + conditions of life hard enough. It seems to me that I have been + dragged, against my will, to the fatal period when old age must be + endured; I see it; I have come to it; and I would fain, if I could + help it, not go any farther; not advance a step more in the road of + infirmities, of pains, of losses of memory, of _disfigurements_ ready + to do me outrage; and I hear a voice which says, "You must go on in + spite of yourself; or, if you will not go on, you must die;" and this + is another extremity from which nature revolts. Such is the lot, + however, of all who advance beyond middle life. What is their + resource? To think of the will of God and of universal law, and so + restore reason to its place, and be patient. Be you, then, patient + accordingly, my dear child, and let not your affection soften into + such tears as reason must condemn. + +She dates a letter, and recalls that the day was the anniversary of an +event in her life: + + + PARIS, _Friday, Feb._ 5, 1672. + + This day thousand years I was married. + +Here is a passage with power in it. The great war minister of Louis has +died. Madame de Sévigné was now sixty-five years old. The letter is to +her cousin Coulanges: + + I am so astonished at the news of the sudden death of M. de Louvois, + that I am at a loss how to speak of it. Dead, however, he is, this + great minister, this potent being, who occupied so great a place; + whose personality [_le moi_], as M. Nicole says, had so wide a sway; + who was the center of so many orbs. What affairs had he not to manage! + what designs, what projects! what secrets! what interests to unravel, + what wars to undertake, what intrigues, what noble games at chess to + play and to direct! Ah! my God, grant me a little time; I want to give + check to the Duke of Savoy--checkmate to the Prince of Orange. No, no, + you shall not have a moment, not a single moment. Are events like + these to be talked of? Not they. We must reflect upon them in our + closets. + +A glimpse of Bourdaloue: + + Ah, that Bourdaloue! his sermon on the Passion was, they say, the most + perfect thing of the kind that can be imagined; it was the same he + preached last year, but revised and altered with the assistance of + some of his friends, that it might be wholly inimitable. How can one + love God if one never hears him properly spoken of? You must really + possess a greater portion of grace than others. + +A distinguished caterer or steward, a gentleman described as possessing +talent enough to have governed a province, commits suicide on a +professional point of honor: + + PARIS, _Sunday, April_ 26, 1671. + + I have just learned from Moreuil of what passed at Chantilly with + regard to poor Vatel. I wrote to you last Friday that he had stabbed + himself--these are the particulars of the affair: The king arrived + there on Thursday night; the walk, and the collation, which was served + in a place set apart for the purpose, and strewed with jonquils, were + just as they should be. Supper was served; but there was no roast meat + at one or two of the tables, on account of Vatel's having been obliged + to provide several dinners more than were expected. This affected his + spirits; and he was heard to say several times, "I have lost my + honor! I cannot bear this disgrace!" "My head is quite bewildered," + said he to Gourville. "I have not had a wink of sleep these twelve + nights; I wish you would assist me in giving orders." Gourville did + all he could to comfort and assist him, but the failure of the roast + meat (which, however, did not happen at the king's table, but at some + of the other twenty-five) was always uppermost with him. Gourville + mentioned it to the prince [Condé, the great Condé, the king's host], + who went directly to Vatel's apartment and said to him, "Every thing + is extremely well conducted, Vatel; nothing could be more admirable + than his majesty's supper." "Your highness's goodness," replied he, + "overwhelms me; I am sensible that there was a deficiency of roast + meat at two tables." "Not at all," said the prince; "do not perplex + yourself, and all will go well." Midnight came; the fireworks did not + succeed; they were covered with a thick cloud; they cost sixteen + thousand francs. At four o'clock in the morning Vatel went round and + found every body asleep. He met one of the under-purveyors, who was + just come in with only two loads of fish. "What!" said he, "is this + all?" "Yes, sir," said the man, not knowing that Vatel had despatched + other people to all the seaports around. Vatel waited for some time; + the other purveyors did not arrive; his head grew distracted; he + thought there was no more fish to be had. He flew to Gourville: "Sir," + said he, "I cannot outlive this disgrace." Gourville laughed at him. + Vatel, however, went to his apartment, and setting the hilt of his + sword against the door, after two ineffectual attempts, succeeded, in + the third, in forcing his sword through his heart. At that instant the + couriers arrived with the fish; Vatel was inquired after to distribute + it. They ran to his apartment, knocked at the door, but received no + answer; upon which they broke it open, and found him weltering in his + blood. A messenger was immediately dispatched to acquaint the prince + with what had happened, who was like a man in despair. The duke wept, + _for his Burgundy journey depended upon Vatel_. + +The italics here are our own. We felt that we must use them. + +Is it not all pathetic? But how exquisitely characteristic of the nation +and of the times! "Poor Vatel," is the extent to which Madame de Sévigné +allows herself to go in sympathy. Her heart never bleeds very +freely--for anybody except her daughter. Madame de Sévigné's heart, +indeed, we grieve to fear, was somewhat hard. + +In another letter, after a long strain as worldly as any one could wish +to see, this lively woman thus touches, with a sincerity as +unquestionable as the levity is, on the point of personal religion: + + But, my dear child, the greatest inclination I have at present is to + be a little religious. I plague La Mousse about it every day. I belong + neither to God nor to the devil. I am quite weary of such a situation; + though, between you and me, I look upon it as the most natural one in + the world. I am not the devil's, because I fear God, and have at the + bottom a principle of religion; then, on the other hand, I am not + properly God's, because his law appears hard and irksome to me, and I + cannot bring myself to acts of self-denial; so that altogether I am + one of those called lukewarm Christians, the great number of whom does + not in the least surprise me, for I perfectly understand their + sentiments, and the reasons that influence them. However, we are told + that this is a state highly displeasing to God; if so, we must get out + of it. Alas! this is the difficulty. Was ever any thing so mad as I + am, to be thus eternally pestering you with my rhapsodies? + +Madame de Sévigné involuntarily becomes a maxim-maker: + + The other day I made a maxim off-hand without once thinking of it; and + I liked it so well that I fancied I had taken it out of M. de la + Rochefoucauld's. Pray tell me whether it is so or not, for in that + case my memory is more to be praised than my judgment. I said, with + all the ease in the world, that "ingratitude begets reproach, as + acknowledgment begets new favors." Pray, where did this come from? + Have I read it? Did I dream it? Is it my own idea? Nothing can be + truer than the thing itself, nor than that I am totally ignorant how I + came by it. I found it properly arranged in my brain, and at the end + of my tongue. + +The partial mother lets her daughter know whom the maxim was meant for. +She says, "It is intended for your brother." This young fellow had, we +suspect, been first earning his mother's "reproaches" for spendthrift +habits, and then getting more money from her by "acknowledgment." + +She hears that son of hers read "some chapters out of Rabelais," "which +were enough," she declares, "to make us die with laughing." "I cannot +affect," she says, "a prudery which is not natural to me." No, indeed, a +prude this woman was not. She had the strong æsthetic stomach of her +time. It is queer to have Rabelais rubbing cheek and jowl with Nicole +("We are going to begin a moral treatise of Nicole's"), a severe +Port-Royalist, in one and the same letter. But this is French; above +all, it is Madame de Sévigné. By the way, she and her friends, first and +last, "die" a thousand jolly deaths "with laughing." + +A contemporary allusion to "Tartuffe," with more French manners implied: + + The other day La Biglesse played Tartuffe to the life. Being at table, + she happened to tell a fib about some trifle or other, which I + noticed, and told her of it; she cast her eyes to the ground, and with + a very demure air, "Yes, indeed, madam," said she, "I am the greatest + liar in the world; I am very much obliged to you for telling me of + it." We all burst out a-laughing, for it was exactly the tone of + Tartuffe--"Yes, brother, I am a wretch, a vessel of iniquity." + +M. de la Rochefoucauld appears often by name in the letters. Here he +appears anonymously by his effect: + + "Warm affections are never tranquil;" _a maxim_. + +Not a very sapid bit of gnomic wisdom, certainly. We must immediately +make up to our readers, on Madame de Sévigné's behalf, for the +insipidity of the foregoing "maxim" of hers, by giving here two or three +far more sententious excerpts from the letters, excerpts collected by +another: + + There may be so great a weight of obligation that there is no way of + being delivered from it but by ingratitude. + + Long sicknesses wear out grief, and long hopes wear out joy. + + Shadow is never long taken for substance; you must be, if you would + appear to be. The world is not unjust long. + +Madame de Sévigné makes a confession which will comfort readers who may +have experienced the same difficulty as that of which she speaks: + + I send you M. de Rochefoucauld's "Maxims," revised and corrected, with + additions; it is a present to you from himself. Some of them I can + make shift to guess the meaning of; but there are others, that, to my + shame be it spoken, I cannot understand at all. God knows how it will + be with you. + +What was it changed this woman's mood to serious? She could not have +been hearing Massillon's celebrated sermon on the "Fewness of the +Elect," for Massillon was yet only a boy of nine years; she may have +been reading Pascal's "Thoughts"--Pascal had been dead ten years, and +the "Thoughts" had been published; or she may have been listening to one +of those sifting, heart-searching discourses of Bourdaloue--the date of +her letter is March 16, 1672, and during the Lent of that year +Bourdaloue preached at Versailles--when she wrote somberly as follows: + + You ask me if I am as fond of life as ever. I must own to you that I + experience mortifications, and severe ones too; but I am still unhappy + at the thoughts of death; I consider it so great a misfortune to see + the termination of all my pursuits, that I should desire nothing + better, if it were practicable, than to begin life again. I find + myself engaged in a scene of confusion and trouble; I was embarked in + life without my own consent, and know I must leave it again; this + distracts me, for how shall I leave it? In what manner? By what door? + At what time? In what disposition? Am I to suffer a thousand pains and + torments that will make me die in a state of despair? Shall I lose my + senses? Am I to die by some sudden accident? How shall I stand with + God? What shall I have to offer to him? Will fear and necessity make + my peace with him? Shall I have no other sentiment but that of fear? + What have I to hope? Am I worthy of heaven? Or have I deserved the + torments of hell? Dreadful alternative! Alarming uncertainty! Can + there be greater madness than to place our eternal salvation in + uncertainty? Yet what is more natural, or can be more easily accounted + for, than the foolish manner in which I have spent my life? I am + frequently buried in thoughts of this nature, and then death appears + so dreadful to me that I hate life more for leading me to it, than I + do for all the thorns that are strewed in its way. You will ask me, + then, if I would wish to live forever? Far from it; but if I had been + consulted, I would very gladly have died in my nurse's arms; it would + have spared me many vexations, and would have insured heaven to me at + a very easy rate; but let us talk of something else. + +A memorable sarcasm saved for us by Madame de Sévigné, at the very close +of one of her letters: + + Guilleragues said yesterday that Pelisson abused the privilege men + have of being ugly. + +Readers familiar with Dickens's "Tale of Two Cities" will recognize in +the following narrative a state of society not unlike that described by +the novelist as immediately preceding the French Revolution: + + The Archbishop of Rheims, as he returned yesterday from St. Germain, + met with a curious adventure. He drove at his usual rate, like a + whirlwind. If he thinks himself a great man, his servants think him + still greater. They passed through Nanterre, when they met a man on + horseback, and in an insolent tone bid him clear the way. The poor man + used his utmost endeavors to avoid the danger that threatened him, but + his horse proved unmanageable. To make short of it, the coach-and-six + turned them both topsy-turvy; but at the same time the coach, too, was + completely overturned. In an instant the horse and the man, instead of + amusing themselves with having their limbs broken, rose almost + miraculously; the man remounted, and galloped away, and is galloping + still, for aught I know; while the servants, the archbishop's + coachman, and the archbishop himself at the head of them, cried out, + "Stop that villain! stop him! thrash him soundly!" The rage of the + archbishop was so great, that afterward, in relating the adventure, he + said if he could have caught the rascal he would have broke all his + bones, and cut off both his ears. + +If such things were done by the aristocracy--and the spiritual +aristocracy at that!--in the green tree, what might not be expected from +them in the dry? The writer makes no comment--draws no moral. "Adieu, my +dear, delightful child. I cannot express my eagerness to see you," are +her next words. She rattles along, three short sentences more, and +finishes her letter. + +We should still not have done with these letters were we to go on a +hundred pages, or two hundred, farther. Readers have already seen truly +what Madame de Sévigné is. They have only not seen fully all that she +is. And that they would not see short of reading her letters entire. +Horace Walpole aspired to do in English for his own time something like +what Madame de Sévigné had done in French for hers. In a measure he +succeeded. The difference is, that he was imitative and affected, where +she was original and genuine. + +Lady Mary Wortley Montagu must, of course, also be named, as, by her +sex, her social position, her talent, and the devotion of her talent, +an English analogue to Madame de Sévigné. But these comparisons, and all +comparison, leave the French woman without a true parallel, alone in her +rank, the most famous letter-writer in the world. + + + + +X. + +CORNEILLE. + +1606-1684. + + +The two great names in French tragedy are Corneille and Racine. French +tragedy is a very different affair from either modern tragedy in English +or ancient tragedy in Greek. It comes nearer being Roman epic, such as +Lucan wrote Roman epic, dramatized. + +Drama is everywhere and always, and this from the nature of things, a +highly conventional literary form. But the convention under which French +tragedy should be judged, differs, on the one hand, from that which +existed for Greek tragedy, and, on the other hand, from that existing +for the English. The atmosphere of real life present in English tragedy +is absent in French. The quasi-supernatural religious awe that reigned +over Greek tragedy, French tragedy does not affect. You miss also in +French tragedy the severe simplicity, the self-restraint, the statuesque +repose, belonging to the Greek model. Loftiness, grandeur, a loftiness +somewhat strained, a grandeur tending to be tumid, an heroic tone +sustained at sacrifice of ease and nature--such is the element in which +French tragedy lives and flourishes. You must grant your French +tragedists this their conventional privilege, or you will not enjoy +them. You must grant them this, or you cannot understand them. Resolve +that you will like grandiloquence, requiring only that the +grandiloquence be good, and on this condition we can promise that you +will be pleased with Corneille and Racine. In fact, our readers, we are +sure, will find the grandiloquence of these two tragedy-writers so very +good that a little will suffice them. + +Voltaire in his time impressed himself strongly enough on his countrymen +to get accepted by his own generation as an equal third in tragedy with +Corneille and Racine. There was then a French triumvirate of tragedists +to be paralleled with the triumvirate of the Greeks. Corneille was +Æschylus; Racine was Sophocles; and, of course, Euripides had his +counterpart in Voltaire. Voltaire has since descended from the tragic +throne, and that neat symmetry of trine comparison is spoiled. There is, +however, some trace of justice in making Corneille as related to Racine +resemble Æschylus as related to Sophocles. Corneille was first, more +rugged, loftier; Racine was second, more polished, more severe in taste. +Racine had, too, in contrast with Corneille, more of the Euripidean +sweetness. In fact, La Bruyère's celebrated comparison of the two +Frenchmen--made, of course, before Voltaire--yoked them, Corneille with +Sophocles, Racine with Euripides. Mr. John Morley, however, in his +elaborate monograph on Voltaire, remarks: "He [Voltaire] is usually +considered to hold the same place relatively to Corneille and Racine +that Euripides held relatively to Æschylus and Sophocles." + +It was perhaps not without its influence on the style of Corneille, that +a youthful labor of his in authorship was to translate, wholly or +partially, the "Pharsalia" of Lucan. His fondness for Lucan, Corneille +always retained. This taste on his part, and the rhymed Alexandrines in +which he wrote tragedy, may together help account for the hyperheroic +style which is Corneille's great fault. A lady criticised his tragedy, +"The Death of Pompey," by saying: "Very fine, but too many heroes in +it." Corneille's tragedies generally have, if not too many heroes, at +least too much hero, in them. Concerning the historian Gibbon's habitual +pomp of expression, it was once wittily said that nobody could possibly +tell the truth in such a style as that. It would be equally near the +mark if we should say of Corneille's chosen mold of verse, that nobody +could possibly be simple and natural in that. Molière's comedy, however, +would almost confute us. + +Pierre Corneille was born in Rouen. He studied law, and he was admitted +to practice as an advocate, like Molière; but, like Molière, he heard +and he heeded an inward voice summoning him away from the bar to the +stage. Corneille did not, however, like Molière, tread the boards as an +actor. He had a lively sense of personal dignity. He was eminently the +"lofty, grave tragedian," in his own esteem. "But I am Pierre Corneille +notwithstanding," he self-respectingly said once, when friends were +regretting to him some deficiency of grace in his personal carriage. One +can imagine him taking off his hat to himself with unaffected deference. + +But this serious genius began dramatic composition with writing comedy. +He made several experiments of this kind with no commanding success; but +at thirty he wrote the tragedy of "The Cid," and instantly became +famous. His subsequent plays were chiefly on classical subjects. The +subject of "The Cid" was drawn from Spanish literature. This was +emphatically what has been called an "epoch-making" production. +Richelieu's "Academy," at the instigation, indeed almost under the +dictation, of Richelieu, who was jealous of Corneille, tried to write it +down. They succeeded about as Balaam succeeded in prophesying against +Israel. "The Cid" triumphed over them, and over the great minister. It +established not only Corneille's fame, but his authority. The man of +genius taken alone proved stronger than the men of taste taken together. + +For all this, however, our readers would hardly relish "The Cid." Let us +go at once to that tragedy of Corneille's which, by the general consent +of French critics, is the best work of its author, the "Polyeuctes." The +following is the rhetorical climax of praise in which Gaillard, one of +the most enlightened of Corneille's eulogists, arranges the different +masterpieces of his author: "'The Cid' raised Corneille above his +rivals; the 'Horace' and the 'Cinna' above his models; the 'Polyeuctes' +above himself." This tragedy will, we doubt not, prove to our readers +the most interesting of all the tragedies of Corneille. + +"The great Corneille"--to apply the traditionary designation which, +besides attributing to our tragedian his conceded general eminence in +character and genius, serves also to distinguish him by merit from his +younger brother, who wrote very good tragedy--was an illustrious figure +at the Hôtel de Rambouillet, that focus of the best literary criticism +in France. Corneille reading a play of his to the _coterie_ of wits +assembled there under the presidency of ladies whose eyes, as in a kind +of tournament of letters, rained influence on authors, and judged the +prize of genius, is the subject of a striking picture by a French +painter. Corneille read "Polyeuctes" at the Hôtel Rambouillet, and that +awful court decided against the play. Corneille, like Michael Angelo, +had to a good degree the courage of his own productions: but, in the +face of adverse decision so august on his work, he needed encouragement, +which happily he did not fail to receive, before he would allow his +"Polyeuctes" to be represented. The theatre crowned it with the laurels +of victory. It thus fell to Corneille to triumph successively, +single-handed, over two great adversary courts of critical +appreciation--the Academy of Richelieu and the not less formidable Hôtel +de Rambouillet. + +The objection raised by the Hôtel de Rambouillet against the +"Polyeuctes" was that it made the stage encroach on the prerogative of +the pulpit, and preach instead of simply amusing. And, indeed, never, +perhaps, since the Greek tragedy, was the theatre made so much to serve +the solemn purposes of religion. (We except the miracle and passion +plays and the mysteries of the Middle Ages, as not belonging within the +just bounds of a comparison like that now made.) Corneille's final +influence was to elevate and purify the French theatre. In his early +works, however, he made surprising concessions to the lewd taste in the +drama that he found prevailing when he began to write. With whatever +amount of genuine religious scruple affecting his conscience--on that +point we need not judge the poet--Corneille used, before putting them +on the stage, to take his plays to the "Church"--that is, to the +priestly hierarchy who constituted the "Church"--that they might be +authoritatively judged as to their possible influence on the cause of +Christian truth. + +In the "Polyeuctes" the motive is religion. Polyeuctes is historic or +traditional saint of the Roman Catholic church. His conversion from +paganism is the theme of the play. Polyeuctes has a friend Nearchus who +is already a Christian convert, and who labors earnestly to make +Polyeuctes a proselyte to the faith. Polyeuctes has previously married a +noble Roman lady, daughter of Felix, governor of Armenia, in which +province the action of the story occurs. (The persecuting Emperor Decius +is on the throne of the Roman world.) Paulina married Polyeuctes against +her own choice, for she loved Roman Severus better. Her father had put +his will upon her, and Paulina had filially obeyed in marrying +Polyeuctes. Such are the relations of the different persons of the +drama. It will be seen that there is ample room for the play of elevated +and tragic passions. Paulina, in fact, is the lofty, the impossible, +ideal of wifely and daughterly truth and devotion. Pagan though she is, +she is pathetically constant, both to the husband that was forced upon +her, and to the father that did the forcing; while still she loves, and +cannot but love, the man whom, in spite of her love for him, she, with +an act like prolonged suicide, stoically separates from her torn and +bleeding heart. + +But Severus on his part emulates the nobleness of the woman whom he +vainly loves. Learning the true state of the case, he rises to the +height of his opportunity for magnanimous behavior, and bids the married +pair be happy in a long life together. + +A change in the situation occurs, a change due to the changed mood of +the father, Felix. Felix learns that Severus is high in imperial favor, +and he wishes now that Severus, instead of Polyeuctes, were his +son-in-law. A decree of the emperor makes it possible that this +preferable alternative may yet be realized. For the emperor has decreed +that Christians must be persecuted to the death, and Polyeuctes has been +baptized a Christian--though of this Felix will not hear till later. + +A solemn sacrifice to the gods is to be celebrated in honor of imperial +victories lately won. Felix sends to summon Polyeuctes, his son-in-law. +To Felix's horror, Polyeuctes, with his friend Nearchus, coming to the +temple, proceeds in a frenzy of enthusiasm to break and dishonor the +images of the gods, proclaiming himself a Christian. In obedience to the +imperial decree, Nearchus is hurried to execution, in the sight of his +friend, while Polyeuctes is thrown into prison to repent and recant. + +"Now is my chance," muses Felix. "I dare not disobey the emperor to +spare Polyeuctes. Besides, with Polyeuctes once out of the way, Severus +and Paulina may be husband and wife." + +Polyeuctes in prison hears that his Paulina is coming to see him. With a +kind of altruistic nobleness which seems contagious in this play, +Polyeuctes resolves that Severus shall come too, and he will resign his +wife, soon to be a widow, to the care of his own rival, her Roman lover. +First, Polyeuctes and Paulina are alone together--Polyeuctes having, +before she arrived, fortified his soul for the conflict with her tears, +by singing in his solitude a song of high resolve and of anticipative +triumph over his temptation. + +The scene between Paulina, exerting all her power to detach Polyeuctes +from what she believes to be his folly, and Polyeuctes, on the other +hand, rapt to the pitch of martyrdom, exerting all his power to resist +his wife, and even to convert her--this scene, we say, is full of noble +height and pathos, as pathos and height were possible in the verse which +Corneille had to write. Neither struggler in this tragic strife moves +the other. Paulina is withdrawing when Severus enters. She addresses her +lover severely, but Polyeuctes intervenes to defend him. In a short +scene, Polyeuctes, by a sort of last will and testament, bequeaths his +wife to his rival, and retires with his guard. Now, Severus and Paulina +are alone together. If there was a trace of the false heroic in +Polyeuctes's resignation of his wife to Severus, the effect of that is +finely counteracted by the scene which immediately follows between +Paulina and Severus. Severus begins doubtfully, staggering, as it were, +to firm posture, while he speaks to Paulina. He expresses amazement at +the conduct of Polyeuctes. Christians certainly deport themselves +strangely, he says. He at length finds himself using the following +lover-like language: + + As for me, had my destiny become a little earlier propitious and + honored my devotion by marriage with you, I should have adored only + the splendor of your eyes; of them I should have made my kings; of + them I should have made my gods; sooner would I have been reduced to + dust, sooner would I have been reduced to ashes, than-- + +But here Paulina interrupts, and Severus is not permitted to finish his +protestation. Her reply is esteemed, and justly esteemed, one of the +noblest things in French tragedy--a French critic would be likely to +say, the very noblest in tragedy. She says: + + Let us break off there; I fear listening too long; I fear lest this + warmth which feels your first fires, force on some sequel unworthy of + us both. [Voltaire, who edited Corneille with a feeling of freedom + toward a national idol comparable to the sturdy independence that + animated Johnson in annotating Shakespeare, says of "This warmth which + feels your first fires and which forces on a sequel:" "That is badly + written, agreed; but the sentiment gets the better of the expression, + and what follows is of a beauty of which there had been no example. + The Greeks were frigid declaimers in comparison with this passage of + Corneille."] Severus, learn to know Paulina all in all. + + My Polyeuctes touches on his last hour; he has but a moment to live; + you are the cause of this, though innocently so. I know not if your + heart, yielding to your desires, may have dared build any hope on his + destruction; but know that there is no death so cruel that to it with + firm brow I would not bend my steps, that there are in hell no horrors + that I would not endure, rather than soil a glory so pure, rather than + espouse, after his sad fate, a man that was in any wise the cause of + his death; and if you suppose me of a heart so little sound, the love + which I had for you would all turn to hate. You are generous; be so + even to the end. My father is in a state to yield every thing to you; + he fears you; and I further hazard this saying, that, if he destroys + my husband, it is to you that he sacrifices him. Save this unhappy + man, use your influence in his favor, exert yourself to become his + support. I know that this is much that I ask; but the greater the + effort, the greater the glory from it. To preserve a rival of whom you + are jealous, that is a trait of virtue which appertains only to you. + And if your renown is not motive sufficient, it is much that a woman + once so well beloved, and the love of whom perhaps is still capable of + touching you, will owe to your great heart the dearest possession that + she owns; remember, in short, that you are Severus. Adieu. Decide with + yourself alone what you ought to do; if you are not such as I dare to + hope that you are, then, in order that I may continue to esteem you, I + wish not to know it. + +Voltaire, as editor and commentator of Corneille, is freezingly cold. It +is difficult not to feel that at heart he was unfriendly to the great +tragedist's fame. His notes often are remorselessly grammatical. "This +is not French"; "This is not the right word"; "According to the +construction, this should mean so and so--according to the sense it must +mean so and so"; "This is hardly intelligible"; "It is a pity that such +or such a fault should mar these fine verses"; "An expression for comedy +rather than tragedy"--are the kind of remarks with which Voltaire chills +the enthusiasm of the reader. It is useless, however, to deny that the +criticisms thus made are, many of them, just. Corneille does not belong +to the class of the "faultily faultless" writers. + +Severus proves equal to Paulina's noble hopes of him. With a great +effort of self-sacrifice, he resolves to intercede for Polyeuctes. This +is shown in an interview between Severus and his faithful attendant +Fabian. Fabian warns him that he appeals for Polyeuctes at his own +peril. Severus loftily replies (and here follows one of the most lauded +passages in the play:) + + That advice might be good for some common soul. Though he [the Emperor + Decius] holds in his hands my life and my fortune, I am yet Severus; + and all that mighty power is powerless over my glory, and powerless + over my duty. Here honor compels me, and I will satisfy it; whether + fate afterward show itself propitious or adverse, perishing glorious I + shall perish content. + + I will tell thee further, but under confidence, the sect of Christians + is not what it is thought to be. They are hated, why I know not; and I + see Decius unjust only in this regard. From curiosity I have sought + to become acquainted with them. They are regarded as sorcerers taught + from hell; and, in this supposition, the punishment of death is + visited on secret mysteries which we do not understand. But Eleusinian + Ceres and the Good Goddess have their secrets, like those at Rome and + in Greece; still we freely tolerate everywhere, their God alone + excepted, every kind of god; all the monsters of Egypt have their + temples in Rome; our fathers, at their will, made a god of a man; and, + their blood in our veins preserving their errors, we fill heaven with + all our emperors; but, to speak without disguise of deifications so + numerous, the effect is very doubtful of such metamorphoses. + + Christians have but one God, absolute master of all, whose mere will + does whatever he resolves; but, if I may venture to say what seems to + me true, our gods very often agree ill together; and, though their + wrath crush me before your eyes, we have a good many of them for them + to be true gods. Finally, among the Christians, morals are pure, vices + are hated, virtues flourish; they offer prayers on behalf of us who + persecute them; and, during all the time since we have tormented them, + have they ever been seen mutinous? Have they ever been seen + rebellious? Have our princes ever had more faithful soldiers? Fierce + in war, they submit themselves to our executioners; and, lions in + combat, they die like lambs. I pity them too much not to defend them. + Come, let us find Felix; let us commune with his son-in-law; and let + us thus, with one single action, gratify at once Paulina, and my + glory, and my compassion. + +Such is the high heroic style in which pagan Severus resolves and +speaks. And thus the fourth act ends. + +Felix makes a sad contrast with the high-heartedness which the other +characters, most of them, display. He is base enough to suspect that +Severus is base enough to be false and treacherous in his act of +intercession for Polyeuctes. He imagines he detects a plot against +himself to undermine him with the emperor. Voltaire criticises Corneille +for giving this sordid character to Felix. He thinks the tragedist might +better have let Felix be actuated by zeal for the pagan gods. The mean +selfishness that animates the governor, Voltaire regards as below the +right tragic pitch. It is the poet himself, no doubt, with that high +Roman fashion of his, who, unconsciously to the critic, taught him to +make the criticism. + +Felix summons Polyeuctes to an interview, and adjures to be a prudent +man. Felix at length says, "Adore the gods or die." "I am a Christian," +simply replies the martyr. "Impious! Adore them, I bid you, or renounce +life." (Here again Voltaire offers one of his refrigerant criticisms: +"_Renounce life_ does not advance upon the meaning of _die_; when one +repeats the thought, the expression should be strengthened.") Paulina +meantime has entered to expostulate with Polyeuctes and with her father. +Polyeuctes bids her, "Live with Severus." He says he has revolved the +subject, and he is convinced that another love is the sole remedy for +her woe. He proceeds in the calmest manner to point out the advantages +of the course recommended. Voltaire remarks--justly we are bound to +say--that these maxims are here somewhat revolting; the martyr should +have had other things to say. On Felix's final word, "Soldiers, execute +the order that I have given," Paulina exclaims, "Whither are you taking +him?" "To death," says Felix. "To glory," says Polyeuctes. "Admirable +dialogue, and always applauded," is Voltaire's note on this. + +The tragedy does not end with the martyrdom of Polyeuctes. Paulina +becomes a Christian, but remains pagan enough to call her father +"barbarous," in acrimoniously bidding him finish his work by putting his +daughter also to death. Severus reproaches Felix for his cruelty, and +threatens him with his own enmity. Felix undergoes instantaneous +conversion--a miracle of grace which, under the circumstances provided +by Corneille, we may excuse Voltaire for laughing at. Paulina is +delighted; and Severus asks, "Who would not be touched by a spectacle so +tender?" + +The tragedy thus comes near ending happily enough to be called a comedy. + +Such as the foregoing exhibits him is the father of French tragedy, +Corneille, where at his best; where at his worst, he is something so +different that you would hardly admit him to be the same man. For never +was genius more unequal in different manifestations of itself, than +Corneille in his different works. Molière is reported to have said that +Corneille had a familiar, or a fairy, that came to him at times, and +enabled him to write sublimely; but that, when the poet was left to +himself, he could write as poorly as another man. + +Corneille produced some thirty-three dramatic pieces in all, but of +these not more than six or seven retain their place on the French stage. + +Corneille and Bossuet together constitute a kind of rank by themselves +among the _Dii Majores_ of the French literary Olympus. + + + + +XI. + +RACINE. + +1639-1699. + + +Jean Racine was Pierre Corneille reduced to rule. The younger was to the +elder somewhat as Sophocles or Euripides was to Æschylus, as Virgil was +to Lucretius, as Pope was to Dryden. Nature was more in Corneille, art +was more in Racine. Corneille was a pathfinder in literature. He led the +way even for Molière still more for Racine. But Racine was as much +before Corneille in perfection of art as Corneille was before Racine in +audacity of genius. Racine, accordingly, is much more even and uniform +than Corneille. Smoothness, polish, ease, grace, sweetness--these, and +monotony in these, are the mark of Racine. But if there is, in the +latter poet, less to admire, there is also less to forgive. His taste +and his judgment were surer than the taste and the judgment of +Corneille. He enjoyed, moreover, an inestimable advantage in the +life-long friendship of the great critic of his time, Boileau. Boileau +was a literary conscience to Racine. He kept Racine constantly spurred +to his best endeavors in art. Racine was congratulating himself to his +friends on the ease with which he produced his verse. "Let me teach you +to produce easy verse with difficulty," was the critic's admirable +reply. Racine was a docile pupil. He became as painstaking an artist in +verse as Boileau would have him. + +It will always be a matter of individual taste, and of changing fashion +in criticism, to decide which of the two is, on the whole, to be +preferred to the other. Racine eclipsed Corneille in vogue during the +lifetime of the latter. Corneille's old age was, perhaps, seriously +saddened by the consciousness, which he could not but have, of being +retired from the place of ascendency once accorded to him over all. His +case repeated the fortune of Æschylus in relation to Sophocles. The +eighteenth century, taught by Voltaire, established the precedence of +Racine. But the nineteenth century has restored the crown to the brow of +Corneille. To such mutations is subject the fame of an author. + +Jean Racine was early left an orphan. His grandparents put him, after +preparatory training at another establishment, to school at Port Royal, +where during three years he had the best opportunities of education that +the kingdom afforded. His friends wanted to make a clergyman of him; but +the preferences of the boy prevailed, and he addicted himself to +literature. The Greek tragedists became familiar to him in his youth, +and their example in literary art exercised a sovereign influence over +Racine's development as author. It pained the good Port-Royalists to see +their late gifted pupil, now out of their hands, inclined to write +plays. Nicole printed a remonstrance against the theater, in which +Racine discovered something that he took to slant anonymously at +himself. He wrote a spirited reply, of which no notice was taken by the +Port-Royalists. Somebody, however, on their behalf, rejoined to Racine, +whereupon the young author wrote a second letter to the Port-Royalists, +which he showed to his friend Boileau. "This may do credit to your head, +but it will do none to your heart," was that faithful mentor's comment, +in returning the document. Racine suppressed his second letter, and did +his best to recall the first. But he went on in his course of writing +for the stage. + +Racine's second tragedy, the "Alexander the Great," the youthful author +took to the great Corneille, to get his judgment on it. Corneille was +thirty-three years the senior of Racine, and he was at this time the +undisputed master of French tragedy. "You have undoubted talent for +poetry--for tragedy, not; try your hand in some other poetical line," +was Corneille's sentence on the unrecognized young rival, who was so +soon to supplant him in popular favor. + +It was a pretty, girlish fancy of the brilliant Princess Henriette (that +same daughter of English Charles I., Bossuet's funeral oration on whom, +presently to be spoken of, is so celebrated) to engage the two great +tragedists, Corneille and Racine, both at once, in labor, without their +mutual knowledge, upon the same subject--a subject which she herself, +drawing it from the history of Tacitus, conceived to be eminently fit +for tragical treatment. Corneille produced his "Berenice" and Racine his +"Titus and Berenice." The princess died before the two plays which she +had inspired were produced; but, when they were produced, Racine's work +won the palm. The rivalry created a bitterness between the two authors, +of which, naturally, the defeated one tasted the more deeply. An +ill-considered pleasantry, too, of Racine's, in making out of one of +Corneille's tragic lines in his "Cid," a comic line for "The Suitors," +hurt the old man's pride. That pride suffered a worse hurt still. The +chief Parisian theater, completely occupied with the works of his +victorious rival, rejected tragedies offered by Corneille. + +Still, Racine did not have things all his own way. Some good critics +considered the rage for this younger dramatist a mere passing whim of +fashion. These--Madame de Sévigné was of them--stood by their "old +admiration," and were true to Corneille. + +A memorable mortification and chagrin for our poet was now prepared by +his enemies--he seems never to have lacked enemies--with lavish and +elaborate malice. Racine had produced a play from Euripides, the +"Phædra," on which he had unstintingly bestowed his best genius and his +best art. It was contrived that another poet, one Pradon, should, at the +self-same moment, have a play represented on the self-same subject. At a +cost of many thousands of dollars, the best seats at Racine's theater +were all bought by his enemies, and left solidly vacant. The best seats +at Pradon's theater were all bought by the same interested parties, and +duly occupied with industrious and zealous applauders. This occurred at +six successive representations. The result was the immediate apparent +triumph of Pradon over the humiliated Racine. Boileau in vain bade his +friend be of good cheer, and await the assured reversal of the verdict. +Racine was deeply wounded. + +This discomposing experience of the poet's, joined with conscientious +misgivings on his part as to the propriety of his course in writing for +the stage, led him now, at the early age of thirty-eight, to renounce +tragedy altogether. His son Louis, from whose life of Racine we have +chiefly drawn our material for the present sketch, conceives this change +in his father as a profound and genuine religious conversion. Writers +whose spirit inclines them not to relish a condemnation such as seems +thus to be reflected on the theater take a less charitable view of the +change. They account for it as a reaction of mortified pride. Some of +them go so far as groundlessly to impute sheer hypocrisy to Racine. + +A long interval of silence, on Racine's part, had elapsed, when Madame +de Maintenon, the wife of Louis XIV., asked the unemployed poet to +prepare a sacred play for the use of the high-born girls educated under +her care at St. Cyr. Racine consented, and produced his "Esther." This +achieved a prodigious success; for the court took it up, and an exercise +written for a girls' school became the admiration of a kingdom. A second +similar play followed, the "Athaliah"--the last, and, by general +agreement, the most perfect work of its author. We thus reach that +tragedy of Racine's which both its fame and its character dictate to us +as the one by eminence to be used here in exhibition of the quality of +this Virgil among tragedists. + +Our readers may, if they please, refresh their recollection of the +history on which the drama is founded by perusing Second Kings, chapter +eleven, and Second Chronicles, chapters twenty-two and twenty-three. +Athaliah, whose name gives its title to the tragedy, was daughter to +the wicked king, Ahab. She reigns as queen at Jerusalem over the kingdom +of Judah. To secure her usurped position, she had sought to kill all the +descendants of King David, even her own grandchildren. She had +succeeded, but not quite. Young Joash escaped, to be secretly reared in +the temple by the high-priest. The final disclosure of this hidden +prince, and his coronation as king in place of usurping Athalia, +destined to be fearfully overthrown, and put to death in his name, +afford the action of the play. Action, however, there is almost none in +classic French tragedy. The tragic drama is, with the French, as it was +with the Greeks, after whom it was framed, merely a succession of scenes +in which speeches are made by the actors. Lofty declamation is always +the character of the play. In the "Athalia," as in the "Esther," Racine +introduced the feature of the chorus, a restoration which had all the +effect of an innovation. The chorus in "Athalia" consisted of Hebrew +virgins, who at intervals marking the transitions between the acts, +chanted the spirit of the piece in its successive stages of progress +toward the final catastrophe. The "Athalia" is almost proof against +technical criticism. It is acknowledged to be, after its kind, a nearly +ideal product of art. + +First, in specimen of the choral feature of the drama, we content +ourselves with giving a single chorus from the "Athalia." This we turn +into rhyme, clinging pretty closely all the way to the form of the +original. Attentive readers may, in one place of our rendering, observe +an instance of identical rhyme. This, in a piece of verse originally +written in English, would, of course, be a fault. In translation from +French, it may pass for a merit; since, to judge from the practice of +the national poets, the French ear seems to be even better pleased with +such strict identities of sound, at the close of corresponding lines, +than it is with those definite, mere resemblances to which, in English +versification, rhymes are rigidly limited. + +Suspense between hope and dread, dread preponderating, is the state of +feeling represented in the present chorus. Salomith is the leading +singer: + + SALOMITH. + + The Lord hath deigned to speak, + But what he to his prophet now hath shown-- + Who unto us will make it clearly known? + Arms he himself to save us, poor and weak? + Arms he himself to have us overthrown? + + THE WHOLE CHORUS. + + O promises! O threats! O mystery profound! + What woe, what weal, are each in turn foretold? + How can so much of wrath be found + So much of love to enfold? + + A VOICE. + + Zion shall be no more; a cruel flame + Will all her ornaments devour. + + A SECOND VOICE. + + God shelters Zion; she has shield and tower + In his eternal name. + + FIRST VOICE. + + I see her splendor all from vision disappear. + + SECOND VOICE. + + I see on every side her glory shine more clear. + + FIRST VOICE. + + Into a deep abyss is Zion sunk from sight. + + SECOND VOICE. + + Zion lifts up her brow amid celestial light. + + FIRST VOICE. + + What dire despair! + + SECOND VOICE. + + What praise from every tongue! + + FIRST VOICE. + + What cries of grief! + + SECOND VOICE. + + What songs of triumph sung! + + A THIRD VOICE. + + Cease we to vex ourselves; our God, one day, + Will this great mystery make clear. + + ALL THREE VOICES. + + Let us his wrath revere, + While on his love, no less, our hopes we stay. + +The catastrophe is reached in the coronation of little Joash as king, +and in the destruction of usurping and wicked Athaliah. Little Joash, by +the way, with his rather precocious wisdom of reply, derived to himself +for the moment a certain factitious interest, from the resemblance, +meant by the poet to be divined by spectators, between him and the +little Duke of Burgundy, Louis XIV.'s grandson, then of about the same +age with the Hebrew boy, and of high reputation for mental vivacity. + +The scene in which the high-priest, Jehoiada, for the first time +discloses to his foster-son, Joash, the latter's royal descent from +David, and his true heirship to the throne of Judah, will serve +sufficiently to exhibit what maturity of modest and pious wisdom the +dramatist attributes to this Hebrew boy of nine or ten years. Nine or +ten years of age Racine makes Joash, instead of seven, as Scripture +interpreted without violence would make him. The lad has had his sage +curiosity excited by seeing preparations in progress for some important +ceremonial. That ceremonial is his own coronation, but he does not guess +the secret. Nay, he has just touchingly asked his foster-mother, +observed by him to be in tears: + + What pity touches you? Is it that, in a holocaust to be this day + offered, I, like Jephtha's daughter in other times, must pacify by my + death the anger of the Lord? Alas, a son has nothing that does not + belong to his father! + +The discreet foster-mother refers the lad to her husband, Jehoiada, now +approaching. Joash rushes into the arms of the high-priest, exclaiming, +"My father!" "Well, my son?" the high-priest replies. "What +preparations, then, are these?" asks Joash. The high-priest bids him +prepare himself to listen and learn, the time being now come for him to +pay his debt to God: + + _Joash._ I feel myself ready, if he wishes it, to give to him my life. + + _Jehoiada._ You have often heard read the history of our kings. Do you + remember, my son, what strict laws a king worthy of the crown ought to + impose upon himself? + + _Joash._ A wise and good king, so hath God himself declared, puts not + his reliance upon riches and gold; he fears the Lord his God, has ever + before him his precepts, his laws, his judgments severe, and does not + with unjust burdens overwhelm his brethren. + +Fénelon had already been two years preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy +when this tragedy was written. It is impossible not to feel that Racine +must have had that prince in mind when he put into the mouth of young +Joash sentiments so likely to have been instilled into the heart of his +royal pupil, the great king's grandson, by such a preceptor as Fénelon. +How could the selfish old monarch of France contrive to avoid +recognizing his own portrait suggested by contrast in that description +of the good king from the lips of little Joash? Racine was here treading +on treacherous ground. He will presently find his footing quite give way +under him, to let him down into the "horrible pit" of disgrace with his +king. This not, however, in the present play. + +The tragedist has generously bestowed upon wicked Queen Athaliah a +certain loftiness of spirit which, in its display in the final +catastrophe, almost redeems her to admiration, if not to sympathy. There +is nothing in the play more nearly sublime in declamation than the final +speech in which Athaliah greets her own doom, and blasphemously +forecasts, for young King Joash, a future of apostasy from God. With +this admirable piece of rhetoric, resembling a burst of blasphemy from +Satan in "Paradise Lost," so far as French poetry may be allowed to +resemble English, we conclude our representation of Racine. Athaliah has +now just heard the announcement of things that assure her of the +overthrow of her usurpation. She expresses herself in a speech, the +first words of which were, no doubt, designed by the poet to recall the +celebrated traditional exclamation of Julian the Apostate, uttered at a +moment of irretrievable disaster to his impious hopes--"O Galilean, thou +hast conquered!" as follows: + + God of the Jews, 'tis thou that dost prevail! + Ay, it is Joash; all without avail + Seek I to cheat myself with other thought: + I know the wound my weapon on him wrought; + I see his father Ahaziah's face; + Naught but brings back to me that hated race. + David doth triumph, Ahab only fall-- + Unpitying God, thou only hast done all! + 'Tis thou that, flattering me to hope in vain + For easy vengeance, o'er and o'er again + Hast with myself myself embroiled anew, + Now pangs of conscience rousing, not a few, + Now dazzling me with thy rich treasures rare, + Which I to burn or pillage did not dare. + Let him, then, reign, this son, thy care, thy toil, + And, so to signalize his new-got spoil, + Let him into my bosom plunge the knife, + And take with filial hand his mother's life. + Hearken what wish for him she dying breathes-- + Wish? nay, what hope, assured hope, bequeaths-- + That, disobedient, proud, rebellious, he, + Faithful to Ahab's blood received from me, + To his grandfather, to his father, like, + Abhorrent heir of David, down may strike + Thy worship and thy fane, avenger fell + Of Athaliah, Ahab, Jezebel! + +With words thus rendered into such English verse as we could command for +the purpose, Athaliah disappears from the stage. Her execution follows +immediately. This is not exhibited, but is announced with brief, solemn +comment from Jehoiada. And so the tragedy ends. + +The interest of the piece, to the modern reader, is by no means equal to +its fame. One reproaches one's self, but one yawns in conscientiously +perusing it. Still, one feels the work of the author to be +irreproachably, nay, consummately, good. But fashions in taste change; +and we cannot hold ourselves responsible for admiring, or, at any rate, +for enjoying, according to the judgment of other races and of former +generations. It is--so, with grave concurrence, we say--It is a great +classic, worthy of the praise that it receives. We are glad that we have +read it; and, let us be candid, equally glad that we have not to read it +again. + +As has already been intimated, Racine, after "Athaliah," wrote tragedy +no more. He ceased to interest himself in the fortune of his plays. His +son "Louis," in his Life of his father, testifies that he never heard +his father speak in the family of the dramas that he had written. His +theatrical triumphs seemed to afford him no pleasure. He repented of +them rather than gloried in them. + +While one need not doubt that this regret of Racine's for the devotion +of his powers to the production of tragedy was a sincere regret of his +conscience, one may properly wish that the regret had been more heroic. +The fact is, Racine was somewhat feminine in character as well as in +genius. He could not beat up with stout heart undismayed against an +adverse wind. And the wind blew adverse at length to Racine, from the +principal quarter, the court of Versailles. From being a chief favorite +with his sovereign, Racine fell into the position of an exile from the +royal presence. The immediate occasion was one honorable rather than +otherwise to the poet. + +In conversation with Madame de Maintenon, Racine had expressed views on +the state of France, and on the duties of a king to his subjects, which +so impressed her mind that she desired him to reduce his observations to +writing and confide them to her, she promising to keep them profoundly +secret from Louis. But Louis surprised her with the manuscript in her +hand. Taking it from her, he read in it, and demanded to know the +author. Madame de Maintenon could not finally refuse to tell. "Does M. +Racine, because he is a great poet, think that he knows every thing?" +the despot angrily asked. Louis never spoke to Racine again. The +distressed and infatuated poet still made some paltry request of the +king--to experience the humiliation that he invoked. His request was not +granted. Racine wilted, like a tender plant, under the sultry frown of +his monarch. He could not rally. He soon after died, literally killed by +the mere displeasure of one man. Such was the measureless power wielded +by Louis XIV.; such was the want of virile stuff in Racine. A spirit +partly kindred to the tragedist, Archbishop Fénelon, will presently be +shown to have had at about the same time a partly similar experience. + + + + +XII. + +BOSSUET: 1627-1704; BOURDALOUE: 1632-1704; MASSILLON: 1663-1742; SAURIN: +1677-1730. + + +We group four names in one title, Bossuet, Bourdaloue, Massillon, +Saurin, to represent the pulpit orators of France. There are other great +names--as Fléchier and Claude--but the names we choose are the greatest. + +Bossuet's individual distinction is, that he was a great man as well as +a great orator; Bourdaloue's, that he was priest-and-preacher simply; +Massillon's, that his sermons, regarded quite independently of their +subject, their matter, their occasion, regarded merely as masterpieces +of style, became at once, and permanently became, a part of French +literature; Saurin's, that he was the pulpit theologian of +Protestantism. + +The greatness of Bossuet is an article in the French national creed. No +Frenchman disputes it; no Frenchman, indeed, but proclaims it. +Protestant agrees with Catholic, infidel with Christian, at least in +this. Bossuet, twinned here with Corneille, is to the Frenchman, as +Milton is to the Englishman, his synonym for sublimity. Eloquence, +somehow, seems a thing too near the common human level to answer fully +the need that Frenchmen feel in speaking of Bossuet. Bossuet is not +eloquent, he is sublime. That in French it is in equal part oratory, +while in English it is poetry almost alone, that supplies in literature +its satisfaction to the sentiment of the sublime, very well represents +the difference in genius between the two races. The French idea of +poetry is eloquence; and it is eloquence carried to its height, whether +in verse or in prose, that constitutes for the Frenchman sublimity. The +difference is a difference of blood. English blood is Teutonic in base, +and the imagination of the Teuton is poetic. French blood, in base, is +Celtic; and the imagination of the Celt is oratoric. + +Jacques Bénigne Bossuet was of good _bourgeois_, or middle-class, stock. +He passed a well-ordered and virtuous youth, as if in prophetic +consistency with what was to be his subsequent career. He was brought +forward while a young man in the Hôtel de Rambouillet, where, on a +certain occasion, he preached a kind of show sermon, under the auspices +of his admiring patron. In due time he attracted wide public attention, +not merely as an eloquent orator, but as a profound student and as a +powerful controversialist. His character and influence became in their +maturity such that La Bruyère aptly called him a "Father of the Church." +"The Corneille of the pulpit," was Henri Martin's characterization and +praise. A third phrase, "the eagle of Meaux," has passed into almost an +alternative name for Bossuet. He soared like an eagle in his eloquence, +and he was bishop of Meaux. + +Bossuet and Louis XIV. were exactly suited to each other, in the mutual +relation of subject and sovereign. Bossuet preached sincerely--as every +body knows Louis sincerely practiced--the doctrine of the divine right +of kings to rule absolutely. But the proud prelate compromised neither +his own dignity nor the dignity of the Church in the presence of the +absolute monarch. + +Bossuet threw himself with great zeal, and to prodigious effect, into +the controversy against Protestantism. His "History of the Variations of +the Protestant Churches," in two good volumes, was one of the mightiest +pamphlets ever written. As tutor to the Dauphin (the king's eldest son), +he produced, with other works, his celebrated "Discourse on Universal +History." + +In proceeding now to give, from the four great preachers named in our +title, a few specimen passages of the most famous pulpit oratory in the +world, we need to prepare our readers against a natural disappointment. +That which they are about to see has nothing in it of what will at first +strike them as brilliant. The pulpit eloquence of the Augustan age of +France was distinctly "classic," and not at all "romantic," in style. +Its character is not ornate, but severe. There is little rhetorical +figure in it, little of that "illustration" which our own different +national taste is accustomed to demand from the pulpit. There is plenty +of white light, "dry light" and white, for the reason; but there is +almost no bright color for the fancy, and, it must be added, not a great +deal of melting warmth for the heart. + +The funeral orations of Bossuet are generally esteemed the masterpieces +of this orator's eloquence. He had great occasions, and he was great to +match them. Still, readers might easily be disappointed in perusing a +funeral oration of Bossuet's. The discourse will generally be found to +deal in commonplaces of description, of reflection, and of sentiment. +Those commonplaces, however, are often made very impressive by the +lofty, the magisterial, the imperial manner of the preacher in treating +them. We exhibit a specimen, a single specimen only, and a brief one, in +the majestic exordium to the funeral oration on the Princess Henrietta +of England. + +This princess was daughter to that unfortunate Stuart, King Charles I. +of England. Her mother's death--her mother was of the French house of +Bourbon--had occurred but a short time before, and Bossuet had on that +occasion pronounced the eulogy. The daughter, scarcely returned to +France from a secret mission of state to England, the success of which +made her an object of distinguished regard at Versailles, suddenly fell +ill and died. Bossuet was summoned to preach at her funeral. (We have +not been able to find an English translation of Bossuet, and we +accordingly make the present transfer from French ourselves. We do the +same, for the same reason, in the case of Massillon. In the case of +Bourdaloue, we succeeded in obtaining a printed translation which we +could modify to suit our purpose.) Bossuet: + + It was then reserved for my lot to pay this funereal tribute to the + high and potent princess, Henrietta of England, Duchess of Orleans. + She whom I had seen so attentive while I was discharging a like office + for the queen, her mother, was so soon after to be the subject of a + similar discourse, and my sad voice was predestined to this melancholy + service. O vanity! O nothingness! O mortals! ignorant of their + destiny! Ten months ago would she have believed it? And you, my + hearers, would you have thought, while she was shedding so many tears + in this place, that she was so soon to assemble you here to deplore + her own loss? O princess! the worthy object of the admiration of two + great kingdoms, was it not enough that England should deplore your + absence, without being yet further compelled to deplore your death? + France, who with so much joy beheld you again, surrounded with a new + brilliancy, had she not in reserve other pomps and other triumphs for + you, returned from that famous voyage whence you had brought hither so + much glory, and hopes so fair? "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity." + Nothing is left for me to say but that: that is the only sentiment + which, in presence of so strange a casualty, grief so well-grounded + and so poignant permits me to indulge. Nor have I explored the Holy + Scriptures in order to find therein some text which I might apply to + this princess; I have taken, without premeditation and without choice, + the first expression presented to me by the Preacher with whom vanity, + although it has been so often named, is yet, to my mind, not named + often enough to suit the purpose that I have in view. I wish, in a + single misfortune, to lament all the calamities of the human race, and + in a single death to exhibit the death and the nothingness of all + human greatness. This text, which suits all the circumstances and all + the occurrences of our life, becomes, by a special adaptedness, + appropriate to my mournful theme; since never were the vanities of the + earth either so clearly disclosed or so openly confounded. No, after + what we have just seen, health is but a name, life is but a dream, + glory is but a shadow, charms and pleasures are but a dangerous + diversion. Every thing is vain within us, except the sincere + acknowledgment made before God of our vanity, and the fixed judgment + of the mind, leading us to despise all that we are. + + But did I speak the truth? Man, whom God made in his own image, is he + but a shadow? That which Jesus Christ came from heaven to earth to + seek, that which he deemed that he could, without degrading himself, + ransom with his own blood, is that a mere nothing? Let us acknowledge + our mistake; surely this sad spectacle of the vanity of things human + was leading us astray, and public hope, baffled suddenly by the death + of this princess, was urging us too far. It must not be permitted to + man to despise himself entirely, lest he, supposing, in common with + the wicked, that our life is but a game in which chance reigns, take + his way without rule and without self-control, at the pleasure of his + own blind wishes. It is for this reason that the Preacher, after + having commenced his inspired production by the expression which I + have cited, after having filled all its pages with contempt for things + human, is pleased at last to show man something more substantial by + saying to him, "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the + whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with + every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." Thus + every thing is vain in man, if we regard what he gives to the world: + but, on the contrary, every thing is important, if we consider what he + owes to God. Once again: every thing is vain in man, if we regard the + course of his mortal life; but every thing is of value, every thing is + important, if we contemplate the goal where it ends, and the account + of it which he must render. Let us, therefore, meditate to-day, in + presence of this altar and of this tomb, the first and the last + utterance of the Preacher; of which the one shows the nothingness of + man, the other establishes his greatness. Let this tomb convince us of + our nothingness, provided that this altar, where is daily offered for + us a Victim of price so great, teach us at the same time our dignity. + The princess whom we weep shall be a faithful witness, both of the one + and of the other. Let us survey that which a sudden death has taken + away from her; let us survey that which a holy death has bestowed upon + her. Thus shall we learn to despise that which she quitted without + regret, in order to attach all our regard to that which she embraced + with so much ardor--when her soul, purified from all earthly + sentiments, full of the heaven on whose border she touched, saw the + light completely revealed. Such are the truths which I have to treat, + and which I have deemed worthy to be proposed to so great a prince, + and to the most illustrious assembly in the world. + +It will be felt how removed is the foregoing from any thing like an +effort, on the preacher's part, to startle his audience with the +far-fetched and unexpected. It must, however, be admitted that Bossuet +was not always--as, of our Webster, it has well been said that he always +was--superior to the temptation to exaggerate an occasion by pomps of +rhetoric. Bossuet was a great man, but he was not quite great enough to +be wholly free from pride of self-consciousness in matching himself as +an orator against "the most illustrious assembly in the world." + +The ordinary sermons of Bossuet are less read, and they perhaps less +deserve to be read, than those of Bourdaloue and Massillon. + + +BOURDALOUE was a voice. He was the voice of one crying, not in the +wilderness, but amid the homes and haunts of men, and, by eminence, in +the court of the most powerful and most splendid of earthly monarchs. He +was a Jesuit; one of the most devoted and most accomplished of an order +filled with devoted and accomplished men. It belonged to his Jesuit +character and Jesuit training that Bourdaloue should hold the place that +he did, as ever-successful courtier at Versailles, all the while that, +as preacher, he was using the "holy freedom of the pulpit" to launch +those blank fulminations of his at sin in high places, at sin even in +the highest, and all the briefer while that, as confessor to Madame de +Maintenon, he was influencing the policy of Louis XIV. + +No scandal of any sort attaches to the reputation of Louis Bourdaloue. +He was a man of spotless fame--unless it be a spot on his fame that he +could please the most selfish of sinful monarchs well enough to be that +monarch's chosen preacher during a longer time than any other pulpit +orator whatever was tolerated at Versailles. He is described by all who +knew him as a man of gracious spirit. If he did not reprobate and +denounce the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, that was rather of the +age than of Bourdaloue. + +Sainte-Beuve, in a remarkably sympathetic appreciation of +Bourdaloue--free, contrary to the critic's wont, from hostile +insinuation even--regards it as part of the merit of this preacher that +there is, and that there can be, no biography of him. His public life is +summed up in simply saying that he was a preacher. During thirty-four +laborious and fruitful years he preached the doctrines of the Church; +and this is the sole account to be given of him, except, indeed, that in +the confessional he was, all that time, learning those secrets of the +human heart which he used to such effect in composing his sermons. He +had very suave and winning ways as confessor, though he enjoined great +strictness as preacher. This led a witty woman of his time to say of +him: "Father Bourdaloue charges high in the pulpit, but he sells cheap +in the confessional." How much laxity he allowed as confessor, it is, of +course, impossible to say. But his sermons remain to show that, though +indeed he was severe and high in requirement as preacher, he did not +fail to soften asperity by insisting on the goodness, while he insisted +on the awfulness, of God. Still, it cannot be denied that somehow the +elaborate compliments which, as an established convention of his pulpit, +he not infrequently delivered to Louis XIV., tended powerfully to make +it appear that his stern denunciation of sin, which at first blush might +seem directly leveled at the king, had in reality no application at all, +or but the very gentlest application, to the particular case of his Most +Christian Majesty. + +We begin our citations from Bourdaloue with an extract from a sermon of +his on "A Perverted Conscience." The whole discourse is one well worth +the study of any reader. It is a piece of searching psychological +analysis, and pungent application to conscience. Bourdaloue, in his +sermons, has always the air of a man seriously intent on producing +practical results. There are no false motions. Every swaying of the +preacher's weapon is a blow, and every blow is a hit. There is hardly +another example in homiletic literature of such compactness, such +solidity, such logical consecutiveness, such cogency, such freedom from +surplusage. Tare and tret are excluded. Every thing counts. You meet +with two or three adjectives, and you at first naturally assume, that, +after the usual manner of homilists, Bourdaloue has thrown these in +without rigorously definite purpose, simply to heighten a general +effect. Not at all. There follows a development of the preacher's +thought, constituting virtually a distinct justification of each +adjective employed. You soon learn that there is no random, no waste, in +this man's words. But here is the promised extract from the sermon on "A +Perverted Conscience." In it Bourdaloue depresses his gun, and +discharges it point-blank at the audience before him. You can almost +imagine you see the ranks of "the great" laid low. Alas! one fears that, +instead of biting the dust, those courtiers, with the king in the midst +of them to set the example, only cried bravo in their hearts at the +skill of the gunner: + + I have said more particularly that in the world in which you live---I + mean the court--the disease of a perverted conscience is far more + common, and far more difficult to be avoided; and I am sure that in + this you will agree with me. For it is at the court that the passions + bear sway, that desires are more ardent, that self-interest is keener, + and that, by infallible consequence, self-blinding is more easy, and + consciences, even the most enlightened and the most upright, become + gradually perverted. It is at the court that the goddess of the world, + I mean fortune, exercises over the minds of men, and in consequence + over their consciences, a more absolute dominion. It is at the court + that the aim to maintain one's self, the impatience to raise one's + self, the frenzy to push one's self, the fear of displeasing, the + desire of making one's self agreeable, produce consciences which + anywhere else would pass for monstrous, but which, finding themselves + there authorized by custom, seem to have acquired a right of + possession and of prescription. People, from living at court, and from + no other cause than having lived there, are filled with these errors. + Whatever uprightness of conscience they may have brought thither, by + breathing its air and by hearing its language they are habituated to + iniquity, they come to have less horror of vice, and, after having + long blamed it, a thousand times condemned it, they at last behold it + with a more favorable eye, tolerate it, excuse it; that is to say, + without observing what is happening, they make over their consciences, + and, by insensible steps, from Christian, which they were, by little + and little become quite worldly, and not far from pagan. + +What could surpass the adaptedness of such preaching as that to the need +of the moment for which it was prepared? And how did the libertine +French monarch contrive to escape the force of truth like the following, +with which the preacher immediately proceeds? + + You would say, and it really seems, that for the court there are other + principles of religion than for the rest of the world, and that the + courtier has a right to make for himself a conscience different in + kind and in quality from that of other men; for such is the prevailing + idea of the matter--an idea well sustained, or rather unfortunately + justified, by experience.... Nevertheless, my dear hearers, St. Paul + assures us, that there is but one God and one faith; and woe to the + man who dividing him, this one God, shall represent him as at court + less an enemy to human transgressions than he is outside of the court; + or, severing this one faith, shall suppose it in the case of one class + more indulgent than in the case of another. + +Bourdaloue, as Jesuit, could not but feel the power of Pascal, in his +"Provincial Letters," constantly undermining the authority of his order. +His preaching, as Sainte-Beuve well says, may be considered to have +been, in the preacher's intention, one prolonged confutation of Pascal's +immortal indictment. We borrow of Sainte-Beuve a short extract from +Bourdaloue's sermon on slander, which may serve as an instance to show +with what adroitness the Jesuit retorted anonymously upon the Jansenist: + + Behold one of the abuses of our time. Means have been found to + consecrate slander, to change it into a virtue, and even into one of + the holiest virtues---that means is, zeal for the glory of God.... We + must humble those people, is the cry; and it is for the good of the + Church to tarnish their reputation and to diminish their credit. That + idea becomes, as it were, a principle; the conscience is fashioned + accordingly, and there is nothing that is not permissible to a motive + so noble. You fabricate, you exaggerate, you give things a poisonous + taint, you tell but half the truth; you make your prejudices stand for + indisputable facts; you spread abroad a hundred falsehoods; you + confound what is individual with what is general; what one man has + said that is bad, you pretend that all have said; and what many have + said that is good, you pretend that nobody has said; and all that once + again for the glory of God. For such direction of the intention + justifies all that. Such direction of the intention will not suffice + to justify a prevarication, but it is more than sufficient to justify + calumny, provided only you are convinced that you are serving God + thereby. + +In conclusion, we give a passage or two of Bourdaloue's sermon on "An +Eternity of Woe." Stanch orthodoxy the reader will find here. President +Edwards's discourse, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," is not more +unflinching. But what a relief of contrasted sweetness does Bourdaloue +interpose in the first part of the ensuing extract, to set off the grim +and grisly horror of that which is to follow! We draw, for this case, +from a translation, issued in Dublin under Roman Catholic auspices, of +select sermons by Bourdaloue. The translator, throughout his volume, +has been highly loyal in spirit toward the great French preacher; but +this has not prevented much enfeebling by him of the style of his +original, to which we here do what we can to restore the tone: + + There are some just, fervent, perfect souls, who, like children in the + house of the Heavenly Father, strive to please and possess him, in + order only to possess and to love him; and who, incessantly animated + by this unselfish motive, inviolably adhere to his divine precepts, + and lay it down as a rigorous and unalterable rule, to obey the least + intimation of his will. They serve him with an affection entirely + filial. But there are also dastards, worldlings, sinners, terrestrial + and sensual men, who are scarcely susceptible of any other impressions + than those of the judgments and vengeance of God. Talk to them of his + greatness, of his perfections, of his benefits, or even of his + rewards, and they will hardly listen to you; and, if they are + prevailed upon to pay some attention and respect to your words, these + will sound in their ears, but not reach their hearts.... Therefore, to + move them, to stir them up, to awaken them from the lethargic sleep + with which they are overwhelmed, the thunder of divine wrath and the + decree that condemns them to eternal flames must be dinned into their + ears: "Depart from me, ye accursed, into everlasting fire" (Matt. + xxv). Make them consider attentively, and represent to them with all + the force of grace, the consequences and horror of this word + "eternal."... + +It is not imagination, it is pure reason and intelligence, that now in +Bourdaloue goes about the business of impressing the thought of the +dreadfulness of an eternity of woe. The effect produced is not that of +the lightning-flash suddenly revealing the jaws agape of an unfathomable +abyss directly before you. It is rather that of steady, intolerable +pressure gradually applied to crush, to annihilate, the soul: + + ... Struck with horror at so doleful a destiny, I apply to this + eternity all the powers of my mind; I examine and scrutinize it in all + its parts; and I survey, as it were, its whole dimensions. Moreover, + to express it in more lively colors, and to represent it in my mind + more conformably to the senses and the human understanding, I borrow + comparisons from the Fathers of the Church, and I make, if I may so + speak, the same computations. I figure to myself all the stars of the + firmament; to this innumerable multitude I add all the drops of water + in the bosom of the ocean; and if this be not enough, I reckon, or at + least endeavor to reckon, all the grains of sand on its shore. Then I + interrogate myself, I reason with myself, and I put to myself the + question: If I had for as many ages, and a thousand times as many, + undergone torments in that glowing fire which is kindled by the breath + of the Lord in his anger to take eternal vengeance, would eternity be + at an end? No; and why? Because it is eternity, and eternity is + endless. To number up the stars that shine in the heavens, to count + the drops of water that compose the sea, to tell the grains of sand + that lie upon the shore, is not absolutely impossible; but to measure + in eternity the number of days, of years, of ages, is what cannot be + compassed, because the days, the years, and the ages are without + number; or to speak more properly, because in eternity there are + neither days, nor years, nor ages, but a single endless, infinite + duration. + + To this thought I devote my mind. I imagine I see and rove through + this same eternity, and discover no end, but find it to be always a + boundless tract. I imagine that the wide prospect lies open on all + sides, and encompasses me around: that if I rise up or if I sink down, + or what way soever I turn my eyes, this eternity meets them; and that + after a thousand efforts to get forward I have made no progress, but + find it still eternity. I imagine that after long revolutions of time, + I behold in the midst of this eternity a damned soul, in the same + state, in the same affliction, in the same misery still; and putting + myself mentally in the place of this soul, I imagine that in this + eternal punishment I feel myself continually devoured by that fire + which nothing extinguishes; that I continually shed those floods of + tears which nothing can dry up; that I am continually gnawed by the + worm of conscience, which never dies; that I continually express my + despair and anguish by that gnashing of teeth, and those lamentable + cries, which never can move the compassion of God. This idea of + myself, this representation, amazes and terrifies me. My whole body + shudders, I tremble with fear, I am filled with horror, I have the + same feelings as the royal prophet when he cried, "Pierce thou my + flesh with thy fear, for I am afraid of thy judgments." + +That was a touching tribute from the elder to the younger--tribute +touching, whether wrung, perforce, from a proudly humble, or freely +offered by a simply magnanimous heart--when, like John the Baptist +speaking of Jesus, Bourdaloue, growing old, said of Massillon, enjoying +his swiftly crescent renown: "He must increase, and I must decrease." It +was a true presentiment of the comparative fortune of fame that impended +for these two men. It was not, however, in the same path, but in a +different, that Massillon outran Bourdaloue. In his own sphere, that of +unimpassioned appeal to reason and to conscience, Bourdaloue is still +without a rival. No one else, certainly, ever earned, so well as he, +the double title which his epigrammatic countrymen were once fond of +bestowing upon him--"The king of preachers, and the preacher of kings." + + +Jean Baptiste MASSILLON became priest by his own internal sense of +vocation to the office, against the preference of his family that he +should become, like his father, a notary. He seems to have been by +nature sincerely modest in spirit. He had to be forced into the +publicity of a preaching career at Paris. His ecclesiastical superior +peremptorily required at his hands the sacrifice of his wish to be +obscure. He at once filled Paris with his fame. The inevitable +consequence followed. He was summoned to preach before the king at +Versailles. Here he received, as probably he deserved, that celebrated +compliment in epigram from Louis XIV.: "In hearing some preachers, I +feel pleased with them; in hearing you, I feel displeased with myself." + +It must not, however, be supposed that Massillon preached like a prophet +Nathan saying to King David, "Thou art the man"; or like a John the +Baptist saying to King Herod, "It is not lawful for _thee_ to have +_her_"; or like a John Knox denouncing Queen Mary. Massillon, if he was +stern, was suavely stern. He complimented the king. The sword with which +he wounded was wreathed with flowers. It is difficult not to feel that +some unspoken understanding subsisted between the preacher and the king, +which permitted the king to separate the preacher from the man, when +Massillon used that great plainness of speech to his sovereign. The king +did not, however, often invite this master of eloquence to make the +royal conscience displacent with itself. Bourdaloue was ostensibly as +outspoken as Massillon; but somehow that Jesuit preacher contented the +king to be his hearer during as many as ten annual seasons, against the +one or two only that Massillon preached at court before Louis. + +The work of Massillon generally judged, though according to Sainte-Beuve +not wisely judged, to be his choicest, is contained in that volume of +his which goes by the name of "Le Petit Carême"--literally, "The Little +Lent"--a collection of sermons preached during a Lent before the king's +great-grandson and successor, youthful Louis XV. These sermons +especially have given to their author a fame that is his by a title +perhaps absolutely unique in literature. We know no other instance of a +writer, limited in his production strictly to sermons, who holds his +place in the first rank of authorship simply by virtue of supreme +mastership in literary style. + +Still, from the text of his printed discourses--admirable, exquisite, +ideal compositions in point of form as these are--it will be found +impossible to conceive adequately the living eloquence of Massillon. +There are interesting traditions of the effects produced by particular +passages of particular sermons of his. When Louis XIV. died, Massillon +preached his funeral sermon. He began with that celebrated single +sentence of exordium which, it is said, brought his whole audience, by +instantaneous, simultaneous impulse, in a body to their feet. The modern +reader will experience some difficulty in comprehending at once why that +perfectly commonplace-seeming expression of the preacher should have +produced an effect so powerful. The element of the opportune, the +apposite, the fit, is always great part of the secret of eloquence. +Nothing more absolutely appropriate can be conceived than was the +sentiment, the exclamation, with which Massillon opened that funeral +sermon. The image and symbol of earthly greatness, in the person of +Louis XIV., had been shattered under the touch of iconoclast death. "God +only is great!" said the preacher; and all was said. Those four short +words had uttered completely, and with a simplicity incapable of being +surpassed, the thought that usurped every breast. It is not the surprise +of some striking new thought that is the most eloquent thing. The most +eloquent thing is the surprise of that one word, suddenly spoken, which +completely expresses some thought, present already and uppermost, but +silent till now, awaiting expression, in a multitude of minds. This +most eloquent thing it was which, from Massillon's lips that day, moved +his susceptible audience to rise, like one man, and bow in mute act of +submission to the truth of his words. The inventive and curious reader +may exercise his ingenuity at leisure. He will strive in vain to +conceive any other exordium than Massillon's that would have matched the +occasion presented. + +There is an admirable anecdote of the pulpit, which--though since often +otherwise applied--had, perhaps, its first application to Massillon. +Some one congratulating the orator, as he came down from his pulpit, on +the eloquence of the sermon just preached, that wise self-knower fenced +by replying, "Ah, the devil has already apprised me of that!" The +recluse celibate preacher was one day asked whence he derived that +marvelous knowledge which he displayed of the passions, the weaknesses, +the follies, the sins, of human nature. "From my own heart," was his +reply. Source sufficient, perhaps; but from the confessional, too, one +may confidently add. + +There is probably no better brief, quotable passage to represent +Massillon at his imaginative highest in eloquence, than that most +celebrated one of all, occurring toward the close of his memorable +sermon on the "Fewness of the Elect." The effect attending the delivery +of this passage, on both of the two recorded occasions on which the +sermon was preached, is reported to have been remarkable. The manner of +the orator--downcast, as with the inward oppression of the same +solemnity that he, in speaking, cast like a spell on the +audience--indefinitely heightened the magical power of the awful +conception excited. Not Bourdaloue himself, with that preternatural +skill of his to probe the conscience of man to its innermost secret, +could have exceeded the heart-searching rigor with which, in the earlier +part of the discourse, Massillon had put to the rack the quivering +consciences of his hearers. The terrors of the Lord, the shadows of the +world to come, were thus already on all hearts. So much as this, +Bourdaloue, too, with his incomparable dialectic, could have +accomplished. But there immediately follows a culmination in power, such +as was distinctly beyond the height of Bourdaloue. Genius must be +super-added to talent if you would have the supreme, either in poetry or +in eloquence. There was an extreme point in Massillon's discourses at +which mere reason, having done, and done terribly, its utmost, was fain +to confess that it could not go a single step farther. At that extreme +point, suddenly, inexhaustible imagination took up the part of exhausted +reason. Reason had made men afraid; imagination now appalled them. +Massillon said: + + I confine myself to you, my brethren, who are gathered here. I speak + no longer of the rest of mankind. I look at you as if you were the + only ones on the earth; and here is the thought that seizes me, and + that terrifies me. I make the supposition that this is your last hour, + and the end of the world; that the heavens are about to open above + your heads, that Jesus Christ is to appear in his glory in the midst + of this sanctuary, and that you are gathered here only to wait for + him, and as trembling criminals on whom is to be pronounced either a + sentence of grace or a decree of eternal death. For, vainly do you + flatter yourselves; you will die such in character as you are to-day. + All those impulses toward change with which you amuse yourselves, you + will amuse yourselves with them down to the bed of death. Such is the + experience of all generations. The only thing new you will then find + in yourselves will be, perhaps, a reckoning a trifle larger than that + which you would to-day have to render; and according to what you would + be if you were this moment to be judged, you may almost determine what + will befall you at the termination of your life. + + Now I ask you, and I ask it smitten with terror, not separating in + this matter my lot from yours, and putting myself into the same frame + of mind into which I desire you to come--I ask you, then, If Jesus + Christ were to appear in this sanctuary, in the midst of this + assembly, the most illustrious in the world, to pass judgment on us, + to draw the dread line of distinction between the goats and the sheep, + do you believe that the majority of all of us who are here would be + set on his right hand? Do you believe that things would even be equal? + Nay, do you believe there would be found so many as the ten righteous + men whom anciently the Lord could not find in five whole cities? I put + the question to you, but you know not; I know not myself. Thou only, O + my God, knowest those that belong to thee! But if we know not those + who belong to him, at least we know that sinners do not belong to him. + Now, of what classes of persons do the professing Christians in this + assembly consist? Titles and dignities must be counted for naught; of + these you shall be stripped before Jesus Christ. Who make up this + assembly? Sinners, in great number, who do not wish to be converted; + in still greater number, sinners who would like it, but who put off + their conversion; many others who would be converted, only to relapse + into sin; finally, a multitude who think they have no need of + conversion. You have thus made up the company of the reprobate. Cut + off these four classes of sinners from this sacred assembly, for they + will be be cut off from it at the great day! Stand forth now, ye + righteous! where are you? Remnant of Israel, pass to the right hand! + True wheat of Jesus Christ, disengage yourselves from this chaff, + doomed to the fire! O God! where are thine elect? and what remains + there for thy portion? + + Brethren, our perdition is well nigh assured, and we do not give it a + thought. Even if in that dread separation which one day shall be made, + there were to be but a single sinner out of this assembly found on the + side of the reprobate, and if a voice from heaven should come to give + us assurance of the fact in this sanctuary, without pointing out the + person intended, who among us would not fear that he might himself be + the wretch? Who among us would not at once recoil upon his conscience, + to inquire whether his sins had not deserved that penalty? Who among + us would not, seized with dismay, ask of Jesus Christ, as did once the + apostles, "Lord, is it I?" + +What is there wanting in such eloquence as the foregoing? Wherein lies +its deficiency of power to penetrate and subdue? Voltaire avowed that he +found the sermons of Massillon to be among "the most agreeable books we +have in our language. I love," he went on, "to have them read to me at +table." There are things in Massillon that Voltaire should not have +delighted to read, or to hear read--things that should have made him +wince and revolt, if they did not make him yield and be converted. Was +there fault in the preacher? Did he preach with professional, rather +than with personal, zeal? Did his hearers feel themselves secretly +acquitted by the man, at the self-same moment at which they were openly +condemned by the preacher? It is impossible to say. But Massillon's +virtue was not lofty and regal; however it may have been free from just +reproach. He was somewhat too capable of compliance. He was made bishop +of Clermont, and his promotion cost him the anguish of having to help +consecrate a scandalously unfit candidate as archbishop of Cambray. +Massillon's, however, is a fair, if not an absolutely spotless, fame. +Hierarch as he was, and orthodox Catholic, this most elegant of eloquent +orators had a liberal strain in his blood which allied him politically +with the "philosophers" of the time succeeding. He, with Fénelon, and +perhaps with Racine, makes seem less abrupt the transition in France +from the age of absolutism to the age of revolt and final revolution. +There is distinct advance in Massillon, and advance more than is +accounted for by his somewhat later time, toward the easier modern +spirit in Church and in State, from the high, unbending austerity of +that antique pontiff and minister, Bossuet. + + +In dealing with SAURIN we are irresistibly reminded of the train of +historic misfortunes that age after age have visited France. It bears +eloquent, if tragic testimony to the enduring noble qualities of the +French people, that they have survived so splendidly so much national +suicide. What other great nation is there that has continued great and +spilled so often her own best blood? The Revocation of the Edict of +Nantes, with its sequel of frightful hemorrhage in the loss to France of +her Huguenots, the guillotine of the Revolution, the decimations of +Napoleon, the madness of the Franco-German war, the Commune! + +To such reflections we are forced; for Jacques Saurin preached his great +sermons in French as a compulsory exile from France. He had a year or +two's experience as French preacher in London; but from his +twenty-eighth year till he died at fifty-two he was pastor of the French +church at The Hague in Holland. + +Saurin's living renown was great; and his renown has never been less, +though it has been less resounding, since he died. This is as it could +not but be; for the reputation of Saurin as preacher rested from the +first on solid foundations that were not to be shaken. If he had been a +loyal Roman Catholic, he would have been twinned with Bossuet, whom he +somewhat resembles, in the acclamations of general fame. It is far more +in name than in merit that Bossuet surpasses him. Bossuet's +quasi-pontifical relation to the Gallican Church indeed engaged him in +various activities which seemed to display a talent in him +correspondingly more various than that of Saurin, who remained almost +exclusively a preacher. But the difference is probably a difference of +fortune rather than a difference of original gift. The intellect that +expresses itself in Saurin's sermons is certainly a spacious intellect. +Saurin is in mere intellect as distinctly "great" as is Bossuet. In +imagination, however, that attribute of genius as distinguished from +talent, to Bossuet we suppose must be accorded superiority over Saurin. + +Clearness, French clearness; order, French order; solidity of matter; +sobriety of thought; soundness of doctrine; breadth of comprehension; +sagacity and instructedness of interpretation; solemnity of inculcation; +progress and cumulation of effect; strength and elevation, rather than +grace and winningness, of style; address to the understanding, rather +than appeal to the emotions; certitude of logic, rather than play of +imagination; a theological, more than a practical, tendency of +interest--such are the distinguishing characteristics of Saurin as +preacher. + +Sermons are literary products in which change from fashion to fashion of +thought and of form makes itself felt more than in almost any other kind +of literature. The sermons of one age are generally doomed to be +obsolete in the age next following. But to this general rule Saurin's +sermons come near constituting an exception. They might, many of them, +perhaps most of them, still be preached. This, certain pulpit +plagiarists of a generation or two ago, are said to have learned. + +The following extract will give our readers an idea how Saurin, toward +the close of a discourse--having now done, for the occasion, with +dispassionate argument--would follow up and press his hearer with +deliberately vehement, unescapable oratoric harangue and appeal. His +text is: "Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world." +Analyzing this, he states thus his second head of discourse: "Motives +to virtue are superior to motives to vice." + + What [under the first head] I affirmed of all known truth, that its + force is irresistible, I affirm, on the same principle, of all motives + to virtue: the most hardened sinners cannot resist them if they attend + to them; there is no other way of becoming insensible to them than to + turn the eyes away from them.... + + And where is the man so blinded as to digest the falsehoods which the + motives to vice imply? Where is the wretch desperate enough to reason + in this manner: + + "I love to be esteemed; I will, therefore, devote myself exclusively + to acquiring the esteem of those men who, like me, will in a few days + be devoured by worms, and whose ashes will in a few days, like my own, + be mixed with the dust of the earth; but I will not take the least + pains to obtain the approbation of those noble intelligences, of those + sublime spirits, of those angels, of those seraphims, who are without + ceasing around the throne of God; I will not take the least pains to + have a share in those praises with which the great God will one day, + in the sight of heaven and of earth, crown those who have been + faithful to him. + + "I love glory; I will therefore apply myself exclusively to make the + world say of me: That man has a taste quite exceptional in dress, his + table is delicately served, there has never been either base blood or + plebeian marriage in his family, nobody offends him with impunity, he + permits none but a respectful approach; but I will never take the + least pains to make envy itself say of me: That man fears God, he + prefers his duty above all other things, he thinks there is more + magnanimity in forgiving an affront than in revenging it, in being + holy than in being noble in the world's esteem, and so on. + + "I am very fond of pleasure; I will therefore give myself wholly up to + gratify my senses, to lead a voluptuous life, to have the spectacle + follow the feast, debauchery the spectacle, and so on; but I will + never take the least pains to secure that _fullness of joy_ which is + at _God's right hand_, that _river of pleasure_ whereof he gives to + drink to those _who put their trust under the shadow of his wings_. + + "I hate constraint and trouble; I will apply myself therefore + exclusively to escape the idea of emotions of penitence, above all, + the idea of prison cells, of exile, of the rack, of the stake; but I + will brave the chains of darkness with their weight, the demons with + their fury, hell with its torments, eternity with its horrors. I have + made my decision; I consent to curse eternally the day of my birth, to + look eternally upon annihilation as a blessing beyond price, to seek + eternally for death without being able to find it, to vomit eternally + blasphemies against my Creator, to hear eternally the howlings of the + damned, to howl eternally with them, and to be eternally, like them, + the object of that sentence, Depart from me, ye cursed, into + everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." Once more, + Where is the wretch desperate enough to digest these propositions? Yet + these are the motives to vice. + +To illustrate the point-blank directness, the almost excessive fidelity, +amounting to something very like truculence, with which Saurin would +train his guns and fire his broadsides into the faces and eyes of his +hearers, let the following, our final citation, serve; we quote from the +conclusion to a powerful sermon on infidelity: + + Let us here put a period to this discourse. We turn to you, my + brethren.... You congratulate yourselves for the most part,... on + detesting infidelity, and on respecting religion. But shall we tell + you, my brethren, how odious soever the men are whom we have just been + describing, we know of others more odious still. There is a + restriction in the judgment which the prophet pronounces on the first, + when he calls them, in the words of my text, the most foolish and the + most brutish among the people; and there are men who surpass them in + brutality and in extravagance. + + Do not think we exceed the truth of the matter, or that we are + endeavoring to obtain your attention by paradoxes. In all good faith, + I speak as I think, I find more refinement, and even, if I may venture + to say so, a less fund of corruption in men who, having resolved to + abandon themselves to the torrent of their passions, strive to + persuade themselves, either that there is no God in heaven, or that he + pays no attention to what men do on earth; than in those who, + believing in a God who sees them and heeds them, live as if they + believed nothing of the sort. Infidels were not able to support, in + their excesses, the idea of a benefactor outraged, of a Supreme Judge + provoked to anger, of an eternal salvation neglected, of a hell + braved, _a lake burning with fire and brimstone_, and _smoke ascending + up for ever and ever_. It was necessary, in order to give free course + to their passions it was necessary for them to put far away from their + eyes these terrifying objects, and to efface from their minds these + overwhelming truths. + + But you, you who believe that there is a God in heaven, you who + believe yourselves under his eye, and who insult him without remorse + and without repentance, you who believe that this God holds the + thunderbolt in his hand to crush sinners, and who live in sin, you who + believe that there are devouring flames and chains of darkness, and + who brave their horrors, you who believe the soul immortal, and who + concern yourselves only with time; what forehead, what forehead of + brass, is the one you wear! + +One thing in just qualification of the praise due to Saurin for his +pulpit eloquence requires to be added. When he attempts the figure of +apostrophe, as he frequently does, personifying inanimate objects and +addressing them in the way of oratoric appeal, he is very apt to produce +a frigid effect, the absolute opposite of genuine eloquence. Nothing but +imagination white-hot with passion justifies, in the use of the orator, +the expedient of such apostrophe as this which Saurin affects. With +Saurin, both the necessary imagination and the necessary passion seem +somehow to fail; and he possessed neither the perfect judgment nor the +perfect taste, nor yet the fine feeling, that might have chastised the +audacities to which his ambition incited him. His rhetorically bold +things he did in a certain cold-blooded way; so that, with him, what +should have been the climax of oratoric effectiveness, or else not been +at all, produces sometimes instead a reaction and recoil of +disappointment. We thus indicate a shortcoming in Saurin which deposes +this great preacher, one is compelled to admit, despite his remarkable +merits, from the first into the second rank of orators. + +Both the Roman Catholic and the Protestant lines of French pulpit +eloquence are continued down to our own day. Lacordaire, Père Félix, +Père Hyacinthe, of the Catholics, Frédéric Monod, Adolph Monod, +Coquerel, of the Protestants, are names worthy to be here set down; and +it may be added that Eugène Bersier, deceased in 1889, challenges on the +whole not unequal comparison with the men treated in this chapter for +pulpit power. He may be described as a kind of nineteenth-century +Bossuet, tempered to Massillon, among French Protestant preachers. + +But there is no Louis XIV. now to cast over any great preachers, even of +the Roman Catholics, the illusive, factitious, reflected glory of the +person and court, the sentence and seal, of the "most illustrious +sovereign of the world." + +The seventeenth-century sacred eloquence of France, the sacred +eloquence, that is to say, of the "great" French age, will always remain +a unique tradition in the history of the pulpit. + + + + +XIII. + +FÉNELON. + +1651-1715. + + +If Bossuet is to Frenchmen a synonym for sublimity, no less to them is +Fénelon a synonym for saintliness. From the French point of view, one +might say, "the sublime Bossuet," "the saintly Fénelon," somewhat as one +says, "the learned Selden," "the judicious Hooker." It is as much a +French delight to idealize Fénelon an archangel Raphael, affable and +mild, as it is to glorify Bossuet a Michael in majesty and power. + +But saintliness of character was in Fénelon commended to the world by +equal charm of person and of genius. The words of Milton describing Eve +might be applied, with no change but that of gender, to Fénelon, both +the exterior and the interior man: + + Grace was in all his steps, heaven in his eye, + In every gesture dignity and love. + +The consent is general among those who saw Fénelon, and have left behind +them their testimony, that alike in person, in character, and in genius, +he was such as we thus describe him. + +Twice, in his youth, he was smitten to the heart with a feeling of +vocation to be a missionary. Both times he was thwarted by the +intervention of friends. The second time, he wrote disclosing his +half-romantic aspiration in a glowing letter of confidence and +friendship to Bossuet, his senior by many years, but not yet become +famous. Young Fénelon's friend Bossuet was destined later to prove a +bitter antagonist, almost a personal foe. + +Until he was forty-two years old, François Fénelon lived in comparative +retirement, nourishing his genius with study, with contemplation, with +choice society. He experimented in writing verse. Not succeeding to his +mind, he turned to prose composition, and, leading the way, in a new +species of literature, for Rousseau, for Chateaubriand, for Lamartine, +and for many others, to follow, went on writing what, in ceasing to be +verse, did not cease to be poetry. + +The great world will presently involve Fénelon in the currents of +history. Louis XIV., grown old, and become as selfishly greedy now of +personal salvation as all his life he had been selfishly greedy of +personal glory, seeks that object of his soul by serving the Church in +the wholesale conversion of Protestants. He revokes the Edict of Nantes, +which had secured religious toleration for the realm, and proceeds to +dragoon the Huguenots into conformity with the Roman Catholic Church. +The reaction in public sentiment against such rigors grew a cry that had +to be silenced. Fénelon was selected to visit the heretic provinces, and +win them to willing submission. He stipulated that every form of +coercion should cease, and went to conquer all with love. His success +was remarkable. But not even Fénelon quite escaped the infection of +violent zeal for the Church. It seems not to be given to any man to rise +wholly superior to the spirit of the world in which he lives. + +The luster of Fénelon's name, luminous from the triumphs of his mission +among the Protestants, was sufficient to justify the choice of this man, +a man both by nature and by culture so ideally formed for the office as +was he, to be tutor to the heir prospective of the French monarchy. The +Duke of Burgundy, grandson to Louis XIV., was accordingly put under the +charge of Fénelon to be trained for future kingship. Never, probably, in +the history of mankind, has there occurred a case in which the victory +of a teacher could be more illustrious than actually was the victory of +Fénelon as teacher to this scion of the house of Bourbon. We shall be +giving our readers a relishable taste of St. Simon, the celebrated +memoir-writer of the age of Louis XIV., if out of the portrait in +words, drawn by him from life, of Fénelon's princely pupil, we transfer +here a few strong lines to our pages. St. Simon says: + + In the first place, it must be said that Monseigneur the Duke of + Burgundy had by nature a most formidable disposition. He was + passionate to the extent of wishing to dash to pieces his clocks when + they struck the hour which called him to what he did not like, and of + flying into the utmost rage against the rain if it interfered with + what he wanted to do. Resistance threw him into paroxysms of fury. I + speak of what I have often witnessed in his early youth. Moreover, an + ungovernable impulse drove him into whatever indulgence, bodily or + mental, was forbidden him. His sarcasm was so much the more cruel, as + it was witty and piquant, and as it seized with precision upon every + point open to ridicule. All this was sharpened by a vivacity of body + and of mind that proceeded to the degree of impetuosity, and that + during his early days never permitted him to learn any thing except by + doing two things at once. Every form of pleasure he loved with a + violent avidity, and all this with a pride and a haughtiness + impossible to describe; dangerously wise, moreover, to judge of men + and things, and to detect the weak point in a train of reasoning, and + to reason himself more cogently and more profoundly than his teachers. + But at the same time, as soon as his passion was spent, reason resumed + her sway; he felt his faults, he acknowledged them, and sometimes with + such chagrin that his rage was rekindled. A mind lively, alert, + penetrating, stiffening itself against obstacles, excelling literally + in every thing. The prodigy is, that in a very short time piety and + grace made of him a different being, and transformed faults so + numerous and so formidable into virtues exactly opposite. + +St. Simon attributes to Fénelon "every virtue under heaven"; but his way +was to give to God rather than to man the praise of the remarkable +change which, during Fénelon's charge of the Duke of Burgundy, came over +the character of the prince. + +The grandfather survived the grandson; and it was never put to the stern +proof of historical experiment whether Fénelon had indeed turned out one +Bourbon entirely different from all the other members, earlier or later, +of that royal line. + +Before, however, the Duke of Burgundy was thus snatched away from the +perilous prospect of a throne, his beloved teacher was parted from him, +not indeed by death, but by what, to the archbishop's susceptible and +suffering spirit, was worse than death, by "disgrace." The disgrace was +such as has ever since engaged for its subject the interest, the +sympathy, and the admiration of mankind. Fénelon lost the royal favor. +That was all--for the present; but that was much. He was banished from +court, and he ceased to be preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy. The king, +in signal severity, used his own hand to strike Fénelon's name from the +list of the household of his grandson and heir. The archbishop--for +Fénelon had previously been made archbishop of Cambray--returned into +his diocese as into an exile. But his cup of humiliation was by no means +full. Bossuet will stain his own glory by following his exiled former +pupil and friend, with hostile pontifical rage, to crush him in his +retreat. + +The occasion was a woman, a woman with the charm of genius and of +exalted character, a Christian, a saint, but a mystic--it was Madame +Guyon. Madame Guyon taught that it was possible to love God for himself +alone, purely and disinterestedly. Fénelon received the doctrine, and +Madame Guyon was patronized by Madame de Maintenon. Bossuet scented +heresy. He was too much a "natural man" to understand Madame Guyon. The +king was like the prelate, his minister, in spirit, and in consequent +incapacity. It was resolved that Fénelon must condemn Madame Guyon. But +Fénelon would not. He was very gentle, very conciliatory, but in fine he +would not. Controversy ensued, haughty, magisterial, domineering, on the +part of Bossuet; on the part of Fénelon, meek, docile, suasive. The +world wondered, and watched the duel. Fénelon finally did what king +James's translators misleadingly make Job wish that his adversary had +done--he wrote a book, "The Maxims of the Saints." In this book, he +sought to show that the accepted and even canonized teachers of the +Church had taught the doctrine for which, in his own case and in the +case of Madame Guyon, condemnation was now invoked. Bossuet was pope at +Paris: and he, in full presence, denounced to the monarch the heresy of +Fénelon. At this moment of crisis for Fénelon, it happened that news was +brought him of the burning of his mansion at Cambray with all his books +and manuscripts. It will always be remembered that Fénelon only said: +"It is better so than if it had been the cottage of a poor +laboring-man." + +Madame de Maintenon, till now his friend, with perfect frigid facility +separated herself from the side of the accused. The controversy was +carried to Rome, where at length Fénelon's book was condemned--condemned +mildly, but condemned. The pope is said to have made the remark that +Fénelon erred by loving God too much, and Fénelon's antagonists by +loving their fellow-man too little. Fénelon bowed to the authority of +the Church, and meekly in his own cathedral confessed his error. It was +a logical thing for him, as loyal Catholic, to do; and he did it with a +beautiful grace of humility. The Protestant spirit, however, rebels on +his behalf, and finds it difficult even to admire the manner in which +was done by him a thing that seems so unfit to have been done by him at +all. Bossuet did not long survive his inglorious triumph over so much +sanctity of personal character, over so much difficult and beautiful +height of doctrinal and practical instruction to virtue. Fénelon seems +to have been reported as preaching a funeral sermon on the dead prelate. +"I have wept and prayed," he wrote to a friend, "for this old instructor +of my youth; but it is not true that I celebrated his obsequies in my +cathedral, and preached his funeral sermon. Such affectation, you know, +is foreign to my nature." The iron must have gone deep, to wring from +that gentle bosom even so much cry as this of wounded feeling. + +It is hard to tell what might now have befallen Fénelon, in the way of +good fortune--he might even have been recalled to court, and +re-installed in his office of tutor to the prince--had not a sinister +incident, not to have been looked for, at an inopportune moment +occurred. The "Telemachus" appeared in print, and kindled a sudden flame +of popular feeling, which instantly spread in universal conflagration +over the face of Europe. This composition of Fénelon's the author had +written to convey, under a form of quasi-poetical fiction, lessons of +wisdom in government to the mind of his royal pupil. The existence of +the manuscript book would seem to have been intended to be a secret from +the king--indeed, from almost every one, except the pupil himself for +whose use it was made. But a copyist proved false to his trust, and +furnished a copy of "Telemachus" to a printer in Holland, who lost no +time in publishing a book so likely to sell. But the sale of the book +surpassed all expectation. Holland not only, but Belgium, Germany, +France, and England multiplied copies as fast as they could; still +Europe could not get copies as fast as she wanted them. + +The secret of such popularity did not lie simply in the literary merits +of "Telemachus." It lay more in a certain interpretation that the book +was supposed to bear. "Telemachus" was understood to be a covert +criticism of Louis XIV., and of the principle of absolute monarchy +embodied in him. This imputed intention of the book could not fail to +become known at Versailles. The result, of course, was fatal, and +finally fatal, to the prospects, whatever these may have been, of +Fénelon's restoration to favor at court. The archbishop thenceforward +was left to do in comparative obscurity the duties of his episcopal +office in his diocese of Cambray. He devoted himself, with exemplary and +touching fidelity, to the interests of his flock, loving them and loved +by them, until he died. It was an entirely worthy and adequate +employment of his powers. The only abatement needful from the praise to +be bestowed upon his behavior in this pastoral relation is that he +suffered himself sometimes to think of his position as one of +"disgrace." His reputation meantime for holy character and conduct was +European. His palace at Cambray, hospitably open ever to the resort of +suffering need, indeed almost his whole diocese, lying on the frontier +of France, was by mutual consent of contending armies, treated in war as +a kind of mutual inviolable ground, invested with privilege of +sanctuary. It was an instructive example of the serene and beautiful +ascendency sometimes divinely accorded to illustrious personal goodness. + +There had been a moment, even subsequently to the affair of the +"Telemachus" publication, when it looked as if, after long delay, a +complete worldly triumph for Fénelon was assured, and was near. The +father of the Duke of Burgundy died, and nothing then seemed to stand +between Fénelon's late pupil and the throne, nothing but the precarious +life of an aged monarch, visibly approaching the end. The Duke of +Burgundy, through all changes, had remained unchangingly fast in his +affectionate loyalty to Fénelon. Sternly forbidden, by the jealous and +watchful king, his grandfather, to communicate with his old teacher, he +yet had found means to send to Fénelon, from time to time, reassuring +signals of his trust and love. Fénelon was now, in all eyes, the +predestined prime minister of a new reign about to commence. Through +devoted friends of his own, near to the person of the prince at court, +Fénelon sent minutes of advice to his pupil, which outlined a whole +beneficent policy of liberal monarchical rule. A new day seemed dawning +for France. The horrible reaction of the Regency and of Louis XV. might, +perhaps, have been averted, and, with that spared to France, the +revolution itself might have been accomplished without the Revolution. +But it was not to be. The Duke of Burgundy first buried his wife, and +then, within a few days, followed her himself to the grave. He died +sincerely rejoicing that God had taken him away from the dread +responsibility of reigning. + +"All my ties are broken," mourned Fénelon; "there is no longer any thing +to bind me to the earth." In truth, the teacher survived his pupil but +two or three years. When he died, his sovereign, gloomy with +well-grounded apprehension for the future of his realm, said, with tardy +revival of recognition for the virtue that had perished in Fénelon: +"Here was a man who could have served us well under the disasters by +which my kingdom is about to be assailed." + +Fénelon's literary productions are various; but they all have the +common character of being works written for the sake of life, rather +than for the sake of literature. They were inspired each by a practical +purpose, and adapted each to a particular occasion. His treatise on the +"Education of Girls" was written for the use of a mother who desired +instruction on the topic from Fénelon. His argument on the "Being of a +God" was prepared as a duty of his preceptorship to the prince. But the +one book of Fénelon, which was an historical event when it appeared, and +which stands an indestructible classic in literature, is the +"Telemachus." It remains for us briefly to give some idea of this book. + +The first thing to be said is, that those are mistaken who suppose +themselves to have obtained a true idea of "Telemachus" from having +partly read it at school, as an exercise in French. The essence of the +work lies beyond those few opening pages to which the exploration of +school-boys and school-girls is generally limited. This masterpiece of +Fénelon is much more than a charming piece of romantic and sentimental +poetry in prose. It is a kind of epic, indeed, like the "Odyssey," only +written in rhythmical prose instead of rhythmical verse; but, unlike the +"Odyssey," it is an idyllic epic written with an ulterior purpose of +moral and political didactics. It was designed as a manual of +instruction--instruction made delightful to a prince--to inculcate the +duties incumbent on a sovereign. + +Telemachus, our readers will remember, was the son of Ulysses. Fénelon's +story relates the adventures encountered by Telemachus in search for his +father, so long delayed on his return from Troy to Ithaca. Telemachus is +imagined by Fénelon to be attended by Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, +masked from his recognition, as well as from the recognition of others, +under the form of an old man. Minerva, of course, constantly imparts the +wisest counsel to young Telemachus, who has his weaknesses, as had the +young Duke of Burgundy, but who is essentially well-disposed, as Fénelon +hoped his royal pupil would finally turn out to be. Nothing can exceed +the urbanity and grace with which the delicate business is conducted by +Fénelon, of teaching a bad prince, with a very bad example set him by +his grandfather, to be a good king. The style in which the story is +told, and in which the advice is insinuated, is exquisite, is beyond +praise. The "soft delicious" stream of sound runs on, as from a +fountain, and like "linked sweetness long drawn out." Never had prose a +flow of melody more luscious. It is perpetual ravishment to the ear. The +invention, too, of incident is fruitful, while the landscape and +coloring are magical for beauty. We give a few extracts, to be read with +that application in mind to Louis XIV., and to the state of France, +which, when the book was first printed, gave it such an exciting +interest in the eyes of Europe. Telemachus, after the manner of Æneas to +Queen Dido, is relating to the goddess Calypso, into whose island he has +come, the adventures that have previously befallen him. He says that he, +with Mentor (Minerva in disguise), found himself in Crete. Mentor had +been there before, and was ready to tell Telemachus all about the +country. Telemachus was naturally interested to learn respecting the +Cretan monarchy. Mentor, he says, informed him as follows: + + The king's authority over the subject is absolute, but the authority + of the law is absolute over him. His power to do good is unlimited, + but he is restrained from doing evil. The laws have put the people + into his hands, as the most valuable deposit, upon condition that he + shall treat them as his children. It is the intent of the law that the + wisdom and equity of one man shall be the happiness of many, and not + that the wretchedness and slavery of many should gratify the pride and + luxury of one. The king ought to possess nothing more than the + subject, except what is necessary to alleviate the fatigue of his + station, and impress upon the minds of the people a reverence of that + authority by which the laws are executed. Moreover, the king should + indulge himself less, as well in ease as in pleasure, and should be + less disposed to the pomp and the pride of life than any other man. He + ought not to be distinguished from the rest of mankind by the + greatness of his wealth, or the vanity of his enjoyments, but by + superior wisdom, more heroic virtue, and more splendid glory. Abroad + he ought to be the defender of his country, by commanding her armies; + and at home the judge of his people, distributing justice among them, + improving their morals, and increasing their felicity. It is not for + himself that the gods have intrusted him with royalty. He is exalted + above individuals only that he may be the servant of the people. To + the public he owes all his time, all his attention, and all his love; + he deserves dignity only in proportion as he gives up private + enjoyments for the public good. + +Pretty sound doctrine, the foregoing, on the subject of the duties +devolving on a king. The "paternal" idea, to be sure, of government is +in it; but there is the idea, too, of limited or constitutional +monarchy. The spirit of just and liberal political thought had, it +seems, not been wholly extinguished, even at the court, by that +oppression of mind--an oppression seldom, if ever, in human history +exceeded--which was enforced under the unmitigated absolutism of Louis +XIV. The literature that, with Montesquieu, Voltaire, Rousseau, the +Encyclopædists, prepared the Revolution, had already begun virtually to +be written when Fénelon wrote his "Telemachus." It is easy to see why +the fame of Fénelon should by exception have been dear even to the +hottest infidel haters of that ecclesiastical hierarchy to which the +archbishop of Cambray himself belonged. This lover of liberty, this +gentle rebuker of kings, was of the freethinkers, at least in the +sympathy of political thought. Nay, the Revolution itself is foreshown +in a remarkable glimpse of conjectural prophecy which occurs in the +"Telemachus." Idomeneus is a headstrong king, whom Mentor is made by the +author to reprove and instruct for the Duke of Burgundy's benefit. To +Idomeneus--a character taken, and not unplausibly taken, to have been +suggested to Fénelon by the example of Louis XIV.--to this imaginary +counterpart of the reigning monarch of France, Mentor holds the +following language. How could the sequel of Bourbon despotism in +France--a sequel suspended now for a time, but two or three generations +later to be dreadfully visited on the heirs of Louis XIV.--have been +more fully foreshadowed? The "Telemachus": + + Remember that the sovereign who is most absolute is always least + powerful; he seizes upon all, and his grasp is ruin. He is, indeed, + the sole proprietor of whatever his state contains; but, for that + reason, his state contains nothing of value; the fields are + uncultivated, and almost a desert; the towns lose some of their few + inhabitants every day; and trade every day declines. The king, who + must cease to be a king when he ceases to have subjects, and who is + great only in virtue of his people, is himself insensibly losing his + character and his power, as the number of his people, from whom alone + both are derived, insensibly diminishes. His dominions are at length + exhausted of money and of men: the loss of men is the greatest and the + most irreparable he can sustain. Absolute power degrades every subject + to a slave. The tyrant is flattered even to an appearance of + adoration, and every one trembles at the glance of his eye; but, at + the least revolt, this enormous power perishes by its own excess. It + derived no strength from the love of the people; it wearied and + provoked all that it could reach, and rendered every individual of the + state impatient of its continuance. At the first stroke of opposition, + the idol is overturned, broken to pieces, and trodden under foot. + Contempt, hatred, fear, resentment, distrust, and every other passion + of the soul unite against so hateful a despotism. The king who, in his + vain prosperity, found no man bold enough to tell him the truth, in + his adversity finds no man kind enough to excuse his faults, or to + defend him against his enemies. + +So much is perhaps enough to indicate the political drift of the +"Telemachus." That drift is, indeed, observable everywhere throughout +the book. + +We conclude our exhibition of this fine classic, by letting Fénelon +appear more purely now in his character as dreamer and poet. Young +Prince Telemachus has, Ulysses-like, and Æneas-like, his descent into +Hades. This incident affords Fénelon opportunity to exercise his best +powers of awful and of lovely imagining and describing. Christian ideas +are, in this episode of the "Telemachus," superinduced upon pagan, after +a manner hard, perhaps, to reconcile with the verisimilitude required by +art, but at least productive of very noble and very beautiful results. +First, one glimpse of Tartarus as conceived by Fénelon. It is the +spectacle of kings who on earth abused their power that Telemachus is +beholding: + + Telemachus observed the countenance of these criminals to be pale and + ghastly, strongly expressive of the torment they suffered at the + heart. They looked inward with a self-abhorrence now inseparable from + their existence. Their crimes themselves had become their punishment, + and it was not necessary that greater should be inflicted. They + haunted them like hideous specters, and continually started up before + them in all their enormity. They wished for a second death, that might + separate them from these ministers of vengeance, as the first had + separated their spirits from the body--a death that might at once + extinguish all consciousness and sensibility. They called upon the + depths of hell to hide them from the persecuting beams of truth, in + impenetrable darkness; but they are reserved for the cup of vengeance, + which, though they drink of it forever, shall be ever full. The truth, + from which they fled, has overtaken them, an invincible and + unrelenting enemy. The ray which once might have illuminated them, + like the mild radiance of the day, now pierces them like lightning--a + fierce and fatal fire, that, without injury to the external parts, + infixes a burning torment at the heart. By truth, now an avenging + flame, the very soul is melted like metal in a furnace; it dissolves + all, but destroys nothing; it disunites the first elements of life, + yet the sufferer can never die. He is, as it were, divided against + himself, without rest and without comfort; animated by no vital + principle, but the rage that kindles at his own misconduct, and the + dreadful madness that results from despair. + +If the "perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets" that the "Telemachus" +affords is felt at times to be almost cloying, it is not, as our readers +have now seen, for want of occasional contrasts of a bitterness +sufficiently mordant and drastic. But the didactic purpose is never lost +sight of by the author. Here is an aspect of the Elysium found by +Telemachus. How could any thing be more delectably conceived and +described? The translator, Dr. Hawkesworth, is animated to an English +style that befits the sweetness of his original. The "Telemachus:" + + In this place resided all the good kings who had wisely governed + mankind from the beginning of time. They were separated from the rest + of the just; for, as wicked princes suffer more dreadful punishment + than other offenders in Tartarus, so good kings enjoy infinitely + greater felicity than other lovers of virtue, in the fields of + Elysium. + + Telemachus advanced toward these kings, whom he found in groves of + delightful fragrance, reclining upon the downy turf, where the flowers + and herbage were perpetually renewed. A thousand rills wandered + through these scenes of delight, and refreshed the soil with a gentle + and unpolluted wave; the song of innumerable birds echoed in the + groves. Spring strewed the ground with her flowers, while at the same + time autumn loaded the trees with her fruit. In this place the burning + heat of the dog-star was never felt, and the stormy north was + forbidden to scatter over it the frosts of winter. Neither War that + thirsts for blood, nor Envy that bites with an envenomed tooth, like + the vipers that are wreathed around her arms and fostered in her + bosom, nor Jealousy, nor Distrust, nor Fears, nor vain Desires, invade + these sacred domains of peace. The day is here without end, and the + shades of night are unknown. Here the bodies of the blessed are + clothed with a pure and lambent light, as with a garment. The light + does not resemble that vouchsafed to mortals upon earth, which is + rather darkness visible; it is rather a celestial glory than a + light--an emanation that penetrates the grossest body with more + subtilty than the rays of the sun penetrate the purest crystal, which + rather strengthens than dazzles the sight, and diffuses through the + soul a serenity which no language can express. By this ethereal + essence the blessed are sustained in everlasting life; it pervades + them; it is incorporated with them, as food with the mortal body; they + see it, they feel it, they breathe it, and it produces in them an + inexhaustible source of serenity and joy. It is a fountain of delight, + in which they are absorbed as fishes are absorbed in the sea; they + wish for nothing, and, having nothing, they possess all things. This + celestial light satiates the hunger of the soul; every desire is + precluded; and they have a fulness of joy which sets them above all + that mortals seek with such restless ardor, to fill the vacuity that + aches forever in their breast. All the delightful objects that + surround them are disregarded; for their felicity springs up within, + and, being perfect, can derive nothing from without. So the gods, + satiated with nectar and ambrosia, disdain, as gross and impure, all + the dainties of the most luxurious table upon earth. From these seats + of tranquillity all evils fly far away; death, disease, poverty, pain, + regret, remorse, fear, even hope--which is sometimes not less painful + than fear itself--animosity, disgust, and resentment can never enter + there. + +The leaden good sense of Louis XIV. pronounced Fénelon the "most +chimerical" man in France. The founder of the kingdom of heaven would +have been a dreamer, to this most worldly-minded of "Most Christian" +monarchs. Bossuet, who, about to die, read something of Fénelon's +"Telemachus," said it was a book hardly serious enough for a clergyman +to write. A _more_ serious book, whether its purpose be regarded, or its +undoubted actual influence in molding the character of a prospective +ruler of France, was not written by any clergyman of Fénelon's or +Bossuet's time. + +Fénelon was an eloquent preacher as well as an elegant writer. His +influence exerted in both the two functions, that of the writer and that +of the preacher, was powerfully felt in favor of the freedom of nature +in style as against the conventionality of culture and art. He +insensibly helped on that reform from a too rigid classicism, which in +our day we have seen pushed to its extreme in the exaggerations of +romanticism. Few wiser words have ever been spoken on the subject of +oratory than are to be found in his "Dialogues on Eloquence." + +Disappearing space warns us that we must perforce let pass from presence +the gracious spirit of Fénelon. But we should wrong this most engaging +of prelates, and we should wrong our readers, not still to represent a +side of his character and of his literary work, a very important side, +that thus far has been only hinted at in incidental allusion. We mean +that distinctively religious side which belongs alike to the man and to +the writer. + +Fénelon, as priest, was something more than professional preacher, +pastor, theologian. He was a devout soul, the subject of a transcendent +Christian experience, even verging on mysticism. In his capacity of +spiritual director, he wrote what are called "spiritual letters," many +of which survive, included in his published works. These have a very +peculiarly ripe, sweet, chaste, St. John-like quality of tone, and they +are written in a pure, simple, transparent style, that reads as if the +thought found its own form of expression without the smallest trouble on +the part of the writer. The style, in fact, is absolute perfection; you +cannot tell the mere literal truth about it and not thus seem to be +exaggerating its merit. Even in translation some charm of such ultimate +felicity in it cannot fail to be felt. + +Almost any "spiritual" letter that we happen first to strike will be as +good as any other, to illustrate the rare culture of heart, the deep +spiritual wisdom, the perfect urbanity in manner, reconciled with the +perfect frankness in fact, and the circumfluent grace of literary style, +with which this heavenly-minded man conducted, through correspondence, +his cure of individual souls. We pluck out a few specimen sentences from +two different letters, and present them detached, without setting of +context: + + Consent to be humiliated; silence and peace in humiliation are the + true good of the soul. One might be tempted to speak humbly, and one + might find a thousand fine pretexts for doing so; but it is still + better to be silent humbly. The humility which still speaks is still + to be suspected; in speaking, self-love consoles itself a little. + +What now follows, ending our extracts from Fénelon's writings, we give, +not only for its own value, but for the light it throws on the charming +humility of the author: + + It has seemed to me that you needed to enlarge your heart in the + matter of the defects of others.... + + Perfection bears with ease the imperfection of others; it becomes all + things to all men. One must grow accustomed to the idea of the + grossest defects in good souls.... + + I beg of you more than ever not to spare me in respect of my defects. + Should you believe that you see one that I perhaps have not, that will + be no great misfortune. If your hints wound me, that sensitiveness + will show me that you have touched the quick; thus you will always + have conferred on me a great benefit in disciplining me to be little, + and in accustoming me to take reproof. I ought to be more abased that + another in proportion as I am more exalted by my position, and as God + requires of me more complete death to all. I need such simplicity, and + I hope that, far from weakening, it will strengthen our union of + heart. + +It is impossible not to associate with Fénelon, in the thought of this +spiritual life of his, explored and purified so deep, that remarkable +woman, Madame Guyon, to whom in certain religious relations the great +and gentle archbishop ostensibly, and perhaps really, submitted himself, +as one who learns to one who teaches. Her exaltation--how far real, and +how far illusory only, let us leave it for the All-knower to judge--made +Madame Guyon easily equal to the seemingly audacious part of spiritual +guide to a man who was at once one of the most illustrious writers, one +of the most highly placed Church dignitaries, and one of the saintliest +Christians in Europe. It is undoubtedly true that the sage can learn +more from the fool than the fool can from the sage; and therefore if it +could be proved to have been indeed the fact that, of the two, Fénelon +was the greater gainer from the relation existing between himself and +Madame Guyon, that might well be only because he was already a wiser +person than she. + +We have no room here to show Madame Guyon by any of her extant letters +addressed to Fénelon; but we may take the present occasion to introduce +at least a few stanzas from one of those sweet little Christian poems of +hers which a spirit not far alien from Fénelon's own, we mean William +Cowper, has put for us into fairly happy English expression. Madame +Guyon spent ten years in prison--for teaching that souls should love God +unselfishly, for his own sake only!--and it is in prison that this +meekly triumphing song of hers must be imagined as sung by the author. +It bears the title, "The Soul that Loves God Finds Him Everywhere." + + * * * * * + + To me remains nor place nor time; + My country is in every clime; + I can be calm and free from care + On any shore, since God is there. + + While place we seek, or place we shun, + The soul finds happiness in none; + But, with a God to guide our way, + 'Tis equal joy to go or stay. + + Could I be cast where thou art not, + That were indeed a dreadful lot; + But regions none remote I call, + Secure of finding God in all. + + * * * * * + + Ah, then! to his embrace repair; + My soul, thou art no stranger there; + There love divine shall be thy guard, + And peace and safety thy reward. + +French literature, unfortunately, is on the whole such in character as +to need all that it can show to be cast into the scale of moral +elevation and purity. Fénelon alone--he was not alone, as the instance +of Madame Guyon has just freshly been reminding us--but Fénelon alone +were enough, in quality supported by quantity, not indeed to overcome, +but to go far toward overcoming, the perverse inclination of the +balance. + + + + +XIV. + +LE SAGE. + +1668-1747. + + +Le Sage was a fruitful father of literary product, but it is as the +author of "Gil Blas" that he is entitled to his place in these pages. +"The Adventures of Gil Blas" justly enjoys the distinction of being +among the few works of fiction that are read everywhere, and everywhere +acknowledged to be masterpieces in literature. Lapse of time and change +of fashion seem not to tend at all toward making "Gil Blas" obsolete. +With every generation of men it takes as it were a fresh lease of +inexhaustible immortality. + +Of course, there must be something elemental in the quality and merit of +a book, especially a book of fiction, concerning which this can truly be +said. A novel "Gil Blas" is generally called. The name is hardly +descriptive. Le Sage's masterpiece is rather a book of human nature and +of human life. It constitutes already, embraced within the compass of a +single work, that which it was the ambition of the novelist Balzac to +achieve in an Alexandrian library of fiction; "Gil Blas" is the whole +"comedy" of man. The breadth of it is enormous. There is hardly any +thing lacking to it that is human--unless it be some truly noble human +character, some truly noble human action. + +We spoke of it not amiss, when we used Balzac's half-cynical word and +called it the _comedy_ of man. Le Sage involuntarily reveals his own +limitation in the fact that he has converted into comedy the whole +mingled drama of man's earthly condition. Within his proper individual +bounds, this man's dimensions are so large that he has been not unfitly +styled Shakespearean. But Shakespeare exceeds Le Sage in measure by a +whole hemisphere. Shakespeare knows how to be serious, to be tragic; as +Le Sage does not. Matter of tragedy indeed abounds in "Gil Blas," but +it is all treated lightly, in the manner of comedy. You are allured, in +reading, to laugh, when, if you return at all upon yourself, you are +conscious you ought rather to weep. Le Sage is the antithesis of +Rousseau, of Chateaubriand, of Lamartine, of George Sand--writers who +know as little of laughter as Le Sage does of tears. + +But it should at once, and strongly, be said that Le Sage is no cynic. +It is not a sneering, but a smiling, mask that he wears. The smile is of +a worldly-wisdom not ill-pleased with itself, and therefore not +ill-pleased with the world which it rallies. It is a genial smile. But +for all that, if you are yourself at bottom a serious man, you are +disturbed at last. You are vexed to find yourself incessantly brought to +smile at what you know ought to move your shame, your indignation, or +your grief. The moral temper which Le Sage exhibits and which he +engenders is not the "enthusiasm of humanity." It is less the temper to +help your fellow-men than the temper to profit the most that you can by +their weaknesses, by their follies, and even by their crimes. Le Sage's +hero, "Gil Blas," goes through a series of "adventures," in which nearly +every human sin is committed by him and by his fellows, either +unblushingly, or, if with any show of compunction at all, then with such +show of compunction as is almost worse than perfect indifference would +be. The book is not in intention immoral, but only unmoral. It may well +be questioned whether in effect it be not the more immoral for this very +character in it. The abounding gay animal spirits of the narrative go +frisking along as if let loose in a lucky world where moral distinctions +were things that did not exist; the real world indeed, only with the +deepest reality of all left out! + +Verisimilitude seems hardly sought. The situations often waver on the +edge of the ludicrously farcical. The tenor of the production stops +barely short of sheer extravaganza. There is no unity, progressiveness, +culmination of plot. The whole book is a mere concatenation, scarcely +concatenation, succession, say rather, of "adventures," any one of +which is nearly as good a starting-point for the reader as any other +would be. + +The scene of the story and the local color are all Spanish. Le Sage's +previous experience of travel in Spain, as well as his long occupation +in translating from the Spanish into French, probably influenced him to +this choice of medium for his masterpiece; which, by the way, it cost +the author intervals of time covering twenty-two years to bring to its +completion. The fact of its Spanish character gave color to the charge, +deemed now to have been exploded, that "Gil Blas" was plagiarized by Le +Sage from a Spanish original. It may be added that laying the scene and +action of his story in Spain left Le Sage the more free to satirize, as +he undoubtedly does, certain persons and certain manners belonging to +his own country, France. + +Of Alain René Le Sage, the man, there need little be said. He was a +successful writer of comedies for the stage. Of these the most were +ephemeral productions. Two, however, and one especially, the "Turcaret," +have the honor of ranking, in French literature, next to the very +highest in their kind, the comedies of Molière. Never rich, Le Sage was +always independent in spirit. The story is told of him that, arriving +once unavoidably late at a noble mansion where he had made an +appointment to read one of his own productions, he was reproached by the +distinguished hostess for making the company lose an hour in waiting; +whereupon he replied: "I give the company a chance to recover their lost +hour," and refusing to be placated bowed himself out. + +Smollet, the celebrated English novelist--and historian so-called--has +translated "Gil Blas." We make use of his translation in presenting our +extracts from this novel to our readers. There are two passages, both +deservedly famous, which will admirably exemplify Le Sage at his best; +one of these is the immortal episode concerning the illustrious +physician, Doctor Sangrado, and the other is the instructive relation +of Gil Blas's experience in discharging the office of what one might +call literary valet and critic to an archbishop. + +First we introduce Doctor Sangrado. + +Gil Blas is at this time in the Spanish town of Valladolid serving an +ecclesiastic in the capacity of lackey. His master, falling sick, sends +for a physician. Gil Blas--the novel is autobiographic in form--shall +tell his own story: + + I therefore went in search of Dr. Sangrado, and brought him to the + house.... The licentiate having promised to obey him in all things, + Sangrado sent me for a surgeon, whom he named, and ordered him to take + from my master six good porringers of blood, as the first effort, in + order to supply the want of perspiration. Then he said to the surgeon: + "Master Martin Omnez, return in three hours and take as much more; and + repeat the same evacuation to-morrow. It is a gross error to think + that blood is necessary for the preservation of life; a patient cannot + be blooded too much; for as he is obliged to perform no considerable + motion or exercise, but just only to breathe, he has no more occasion + for blood than a man who is asleep--life, in both, consisting in the + pulse and respiration only." The doctor having ordered frequent and + copious evacuations of this kind, he told us that we must make the + canon drink warm water incessantly; assuring us that water, drank in + abundance, was the true specific in all distempers whatever.... We set + about warming water with all despatch; and as the physician had + recommended to us, above all things, not to be too sparing of it, we + made my master drink for the first dose two or three pints, at as many + draughts. An hour after we repeated it, and returning to the charge, + from time to time, overwhelmed his stomach with a deluge of water, the + surgeon seconding us, on the other hand, by the quantity of blood + which he drew from him. In less than two days the old canon was + reduced to extremity. + +Blood-letting, as an expedient of the healing art, has happily gone out +of fashion; but Dr. Sangrado's other master secret, the therapeutic +drinking of hot water, has been rehabilitated in our days. We sincerely +hope that none of our hot-water-drinking readers will let Le Sage laugh +them out of countenance in holding to their habit--if it really does +them good! + +Gil Blas is promoted to be servant, and then professional assistant, to +the famous Dr. Sangrado. Gil Blas and the doctor's maid were warned by +their master against eating much, but, now, however, Gil Blas shall +himself again resume the part of narrator: + + He allowed us, by way of recompense, to drink as much water as we + could swallow: far from restricting us in this particular, he would + sometimes say, "Drink, my children; health consists in the suppleness + and humectation of the parts: drink water in great abundance: it is an + universal menstruum that dissolves all kinds of salt. When the course + of the blood is too languid, this accelerates its motion; and when too + rapid, checks its impetuosity".... "If thou feelest in thyself," said + he to me, "any reluctance to simple element, there are innocent aids + in plenty that will support thy stomach against the insipid taste of + water; sage, for example, and balm will give it an admirable flavor; + and an infusion of corn-poppy, gillyflower, and rosemary, will render + it still more delicious." + + Notwithstanding all he could say in praise of water, and the excellent + beverages he taught me to compose, I drank of it with such moderation, + that perceiving my temperance, he said: "Why, truly, Gil Blas, I am + not at all surprised that thou dost not enjoy good health. Thou dost + not drink enough, my friend. Water taken in small quantities serves + only to disentangle the particles of the bile, and give them more + activity; whereas they should be drowned in a copious dilution: don't + be afraid, my child, that abundance of water will weaken and relax thy + stomach: lay aside that panic fear which perhaps thou entertainest of + plentiful drinking." + +Gil Blas, discouraged, was about to leave Dr. Sangrado's service, when +that distinguished physician said to him--we take up the text of the +story once more: + + "I have a regard for thee, and without further delay will make thy + fortune.... I spare thee the trouble of studying pharmacy, anatomy, + botany, and physic: know, my friend, all that is required is to bleed + the patients and make them drink warm water. This is the secret of + curing all the distempers incident to man".... I assured him that I + would follow his maxims as long as I lived, even if they should be + contrary to those of Hippocrates. But this assurance was not + altogether sincere; for I disapproved of his opinion with regard to + water, and resolved to drink wine every day, when I went out to visit + my patients. + +This resolution Gil Blas carried out, and, returning home drunk in +consequence, gave Dr. Sangrado an artfully heightened account of a +scuffle he had had with a rival physician of his master named Cuchillo. +Let Gil Blas pursue the narrative: + + "Thou hast done well, Gil Blas," said Dr. Sangrado, "in defending the + honor of our remedies against that little abortion of the faculty. He + affirms, then, that aqueous draughts are improper for the dropsy! + Ignorant wretch! I maintain, I do, that a dropsical patient cannot + drink too much."... He perceived that I drank more water that evening + than usual, the wine having made me very thirsty, ... and said, with a + smile, "I see, Gil Blas, thou hast no longer an aversion to water. + Heaven be praised! thou drinkest it now like nectar."... "Sir," I + replied, "there is a time for all things: I would not at present give + a pint of water for an hogshead of wine." The doctor, charmed with + this answer, did not neglect such a fair opportunity of extolling the + excellence of water.... "There are still a few," he exclaimed, "who, + like thou and I, drink nothing but water; and, who, as a preservative + from, or cure of all distempers, trust to hot water unboiled: for I + have observed that boiled water is more heavy and less agreeable to + the stomach." + + ... I entered into the doctor's sentiments, inveighed against the use + of wine, and lamented that mankind had contracted a taste for such a + pernicious liquor. Then (as my thirst was not sufficiently quenched) I + filled a large goblet with water, and having swallowed long draughts + of it: "Come, sir," said I to my master, "let us regale ourselves with + this benevolent liquor." ... He applauded my zeal, and during a whole + quarter of an hour exhorted me to drink nothing but water. In order to + familiarize myself to this prescription, I promised to swallow a great + quantity every evening; and that I might the more easily perform my + promise, went to bed with a resolution of going to the tavern every + day. + +In passing from the humor of Le Sage's Dr. Sangrado, we cannot refrain +from exhorting the reader not to miss that refinement about water made +hot without actually boiling. The present writer seems to himself to +have encountered the same delicacy of hot-water-drinking in his own +personal observation of those who now practice this method of health or +of cure. + +A later fortune of Gil Blas, in his long career of extremely various +"adventures," shaken from change to change as in a kaleidoscope, was to +fall into the service of an archbishop, by whom he was soon advanced to +a post of confidential favor. Gil Blas became in fact the archbishop's +"guide, philosopher, and friend," in the very important matter of that +high dignitary's literary and historical reputation. This happened +through Gil Blas's felicity in copying out with judicious calligraphy--a +calligraphy such as seemed to their author to commend those productions +in some fit proportion to their worth--the venerable archbishop's +homilies. Gil Blas thus relates the immediate, and then the more remote, +result of his submitting to the archbishop his maiden essay in copy-hand +reproduction of that prelate's pulpit rhetoric: + + "Good heaven!" cried he in a transport, when he had surveyed all the + sheets of my copy, "was ever anything seen so correct? You transcribe + so well that you must certainly understand grammar. Tell me + ingenuously, my friend, have you found nothing that shocked you in + writing it over? Some neglect, perhaps, in the style, or improper + term?" "O, sir," answered I, with an air of modesty, "I am not learned + enough to make critical observations; and if I was, I am persuaded + that the works of your grace would escape my censure." The prelate + smiled at my reply; and, though he said nothing, discovered through + all his piety, that he was a downright author. + + By this kind of flattery, I entirely gained his good graces, became + more and more dear to him every day.... One evening he repeated in his + closet, when I was present, with great enthusiasm, an homily which he + intended to pronounce the next day in the cathedral; and, not + satisfied with asking my opinion of it in general, obliged me to + single out the particular passages which I most admired. I had the + good luck to mention those that he himself looked upon to be the best, + his own favorite morceaus: by which means I passed, in his judgment, + for a man who had a delicate knowledge of the true beauties of a work. + "This is," cried he, "what is called having taste and sentiment: well, + friend, I assure thee thou hast not got Boeotian ears." In a word, he + was so well satisfied with me, that he pronounced with some vivacity, + "Gil Blas, henceforth give thyself no uneasiness about thy fortune: I + undertake to make it extremely agreeable; I love thee; and, as a proof + of my affection, make thee my confidant." + + I no sooner heard these words than I fell at his grace's feet, quite + penetrated with gratitude; I heartily embraced his bandy legs, and + looked upon myself as a man on the high way to wealth and opulence. + "Yes, my child," resumed the archbishop, whose discourse had been + interrupted by my prostration, "thou shalt be the repository of my + most secret thoughts. Listen with attention to what I am going to say: + my chief pleasure consists in preaching; the Lord gives a blessing to + my homilies; they touch the hearts of sinners, make them seriously + reflect on their conduct, and have recourse to repentance.... I will + confess my weakness; I propose to myself another reward, a reward + which the delicacy of my virtue reproaches me with in vain! I mean the + esteem that the world shows for fine polished writing. The honor of + being reckoned a perfect orator has charmed my imagination; my + performances are thought equally strong and delicate; but I would, of + all things, avoid the fault of good authors who write too long, and + retire without forfeiting the least tittle of my reputation. + Wherefore, my dear Gil Blas," continued the prelate, "one thing that I + exact of thy zeal is, whenever thou shalt perceive my pen smack of old + age, and my genius flag, don't fail to advertise me of it: for I don't + trust to my own judgment, which may be seduced by self-love." ... + "Thank heaven, sir," said I, "that period is far off: besides, a + genius like that of your grace will preserve its vigor much better + than any other; or, to speak more justly, will be always the same. I + look upon you as another Cardinal Ximenes, whose superior genius, + instead of being weakened by age, seemed to receive new strength from + it." "No flattery, friend," said he, interrupting me. "I know I am + liable to sink all at once: people at my age begin to feel + infirmities, and the infirmities of the body often affect the + understanding. I repeat it to thee again, Gil Blas, as soon as thou + shalt judge mine in the least impaired, be sure to give me notice; and + be not afraid of speaking freely and sincerely, for I shall receive + thy advice as a mark of thy affection. Besides, thy interest is + concerned; if, unhappily for thee, it should come to my ears that the + public says my discourses have no longer their wonted force, and that + it is high time for me to repose myself, I frankly declare that thou + shalt lose my friendship, as well as the fortune I have promised. Such + will be the fruit of thy foolish reserve!" + +Gil Blas was destined soon to be put to the extreme proof of his +fidelity. Himself must tell how: + + In the very zenith of my favor we had a hot alarm in the episcopal + palace: the archbishop was seized with a fit of the apoplexy; he was, + however, succored immediately, and such salutary medicines + administered that in a few days his health was re-established; but his + understanding had received a rude shock, which I plainly perceived in + the very next discourse which he composed. I did not, however, find + the difference between this and the rest so sensible as to make me + conclude that the orator began to flag, and waited for another homily + to fix my resolution. This, indeed, was quite decisive; sometimes the + good old prelate repeated the same thing over and over, sometimes rose + too high or sunk too low; it was a vague discourse, the rhetoric of an + old professor, a mere capucinade. [The word, "capucinade," satirizes + the Capuchin monks.] + + I was not the only person who took notice of this. The greatest part + of the audience when he pronounced it, as if they had been also hired + to examine it, said softly to one another, "This sermon smells strong + of the apoplexy." Come, master homily-critic, said I then to myself, + prepare to do your office; you see that his grace begins to fail; it + is your duty to give him notice of it, not only as the depository of + his thoughts, but, likewise, lest some one of his friends should be + free enough with him to prevent you; in that case you know what would + happen: your name would be erased from his last will.... + + After these reflections I made others of a quite contrary nature. To + give the notice in question, seemed a delicate point. I imagined that + it might be ill-received by an author like him, conceited of his own + works; but, rejecting this suggestion, I represented to myself that he + could not possibly take it amiss after having exacted it of me in so + pressing a manner. Add to this that I depended upon my being able to + mention it with address, and make him swallow the pill without + reluctance. In a word, finding that I ran a greater risk in keeping + silence than in breaking it, I determined to speak. + + The only thing that embarrassed me now was how to break the ice. + Luckily the orator himself extricated me from that difficulty by + asking what people said of him, and if they were satisfied with his + last discourse. I answered that his homilies were always admired, but + in my opinion the last had not succeeded so well as the rest in + affecting the audience. "How, friend!" replied he with astonishment, + "has it met with any Aristarchus?" "No, sir," said I, "by no means; + such works as yours are not to be criticised; everybody is charmed + with them. Nevertheless, since you have laid your injunctions upon me + to be free and sincere, I will take the liberty to tell you that your + last discourse, in my judgment, has not altogether the energy of your + other performances. Are you not of the same opinion?" + + My master grew pale at these words, and said with a forced smile, "So, + then, Mr. Gil Blas, this piece is not to your taste?" "I don't say so, + sir," cried I, quite disconcerted, "I think it excellent, although a + little inferior to your other works." "I understand you," he replied, + "you think I flag, don't you? Come, be plain; you believe it is time + for me to think of retiring." "I should not have been so bold," said + I, "as to speak so freely if your grace had not commanded me; I do no + more, therefore, than obey you, and I most humbly beg that you will + not be offended at my freedom." "God forbid," cried he, with + precipitation, "God forbid that I should find fault with it. In so + doing I should be very unjust. I don't at all take it ill that you + speak your sentiment; it is your sentiment only that I find bad. I + have been most egregiously deceived in your narrow understanding." + + Though I was disconcerted, I endeavored to find some mitigation in + order to set things to rights again; but how is it possible to appease + an incensed author, one especially who has been accustomed to hear + himself praised? "Say no more, my child," said he, "you are yet too + raw to make proper distinctions. Know that I never composed a better + homily than that which you disapprove, for my genius, thank heaven, + hath as yet lost nothing of its vigor. Henceforth I will make a better + choice of a confidant and keep one of greater ability than you. Go," + added he, pushing me by the shoulders out of his closet, "go tell my + treasurer to give you a hundred ducats, and may heaven conduct you + with that sum. Adieu, Mr. Gil Blas, I wish you all manner of + prosperity, with a little more taste." + +It would be hard, we think, to overmatch anywhere in literature the +shrewd but genial satire, the quiet, effective comedy, of the foregoing. +How deep it gently goes, probing and searching into the secret springs +of our common human nature! The cool, the frontless calculation of +self-interest on Gil Blas's part throughout the whole course of his +conduct of the relation between himself and the archbishop is perfectly +characteristic of the impudent easy-heartedness everywhere displayed of +this conscienceless adventurer. It illustrates the consummate art of the +author that the whole is so managed that, while you do not sympathize +with his hero, you still are by no means forced to feel unplesantly +offended at him. This is a great feat of lullaby to the conscience of +the reader; for the character of the work is such that if, in perusing +it, you should throughout keep vigilantly obeying the wholesome +safeguard injunction of the apostle, "Abhor that which is evil," you +would be so busy doing the duty of abhorring as seriously to interfere +with your enjoyment of the comedy. To get the pleasure or the profit, +and at the same time leave the taint, that is the problem often in +studying the masterpieces of literature. As generally, so in the case of +"Gil Blas," it is a problem perhaps best to be solved by being still +more intent on leaving the taint than on getting the pleasure or the +profit. + +On the whole, the reading of "Gil Blas" entire is a task or a diversion +that may safely in most cases be postponed to the leisure of late life. +The whole is such, or is not so good, as the part that has here been +shown. It is an instance in which the building is very fairly +represented by a single specimen brick. Multiply what you have seen by +the necessary factor, and you have the total product with little or no +loss. + +It ought to be added that "Gil Blas," as in local color and in what +might be styled medium not French at all, is also in general character +the least French of French productions. It seems almost as if expressly +written to be part of what Goethe taught his disciples to look for, +namely, a "world-literature." "Gil Blas," though French in form, is in +essence French only because it is human. And for the same reason it is +of every other nation as well. It possesses, therefore, as French +literature a unique and, so to speak, paradoxical importance in not +being French literature; it is, in fact, perhaps quite the only French +book that is less national than universal. + + + + +XV. + +MONTESQUIEU: 1689-1755; DE TOCQUEVILLE: 1805-1859. + + +To Montesquieu belongs the glory of being the founder, or inventor, of +the philosophy of history. Bossuet might dispute this palm with him; but +Bossuet, in his "Discourse on Universal History," only exemplified the +principle which it was left to Montesquieu afterward more consciously to +develop. + +Three books, still living, are associated with the name of +Montesquieu--"The Persian Letters," "The Greatness and the Decline of +the Romans," and "The Spirit of Laws." "The Persian Letters" are a +series of epistles purporting to be written by a Persian sojourning in +Paris and observing the manners and morals of the people around him. The +idea is ingenious; though the ingenuity, we suppose, was not original +with Montesquieu. Such letters afford the writer of them an admirable +advantage for telling satire on contemporary follies. This production of +Montesquieu became the suggestive example to Goldsmith for his "Citizen +of the World; or, Letters of a Chinese Philosopher." We shall have here +no room for illustrative citations from Montesquieu's "Persian Letters." + +The second work, that on the "Greatness and the Decline of the Romans," +is less a history than a series of essays on the history of Rome. It is +brilliant, striking, suggestive. It aims to be philosophical rather than +historical. It deals in bold generalizations. The spirit of it is, +perhaps, too constantly and too profoundly hostile to the Romans. +Something of the ancient Gallic enmity--as if a derivation from that +last and noblest of the Gauls, Vercingetorix--seems to animate the +Frenchman in discussing the character and the career of the great +conquering nation of antiquity. The critical element is the element +chiefly wanting to make Montesquieu's work equal to the demands of +modern historical scholarship. Montesquieu was, however, a full worthy +forerunner of the philosophical historians of to-day. We give a single +extract in illustration--an extract condensed from the chapter in which +the author analyzes and expounds the foreign policy of the Romans. The +generalizations are bold and brilliant,--too bold, probably, for strict +critical truth. (We use, for our extract, the recent translation by Mr. +Jehu Baker, who enriches his volume with original notes of no little +interest and value.) Montesquieu: + + This body [the Roman Senate] erected itself into a tribunal for the + judgment of all peoples, and at the end of every war it decided upon + the punishment and the recompenses which it conceived each to be + entitled to. It took away parts of the lands of the conquered states, + in order to bestow them upon the allies of Rome, thus accomplishing + two objects at once--attaching to Rome those kings of whom she had + little to fear and much to hope, and weakening those of whom she had + little to hope and all to fear. + + Allies were employed to make war upon an enemy, but the destroyers + were at once destroyed in their turn. Philip was beaten with the half + of the Ætolians, who were immediately afterward annihilated for having + joined themselves to Antiochus. Antiochus was beaten with the help of + the Rhodians, who, after having received signal rewards, were + humiliated forever, under the pretext that they had requested that + peace might be made with Perseus. + + When they had many enemies on hand at the same time, they accorded a + truce to the weakest, which considered itself happy in obtaining such + a respite, counting it for much to be able to secure a postponement of + its ruin. + + When they were engaged in a great war, the Senate affected to ignore + all sorts of injuries, and silently awaited the arrival of the proper + time for punishment; when, if it saw that only some individuals were + culpable, it refused to punish them, choosing rather to hold the + entire nation as criminal, and thus reserve to itself a useful + vengeance. + + As they inflicted inconceivable evils upon their enemies, there were + not many leagues formed against them; for those who were most distant + from danger were not willing to draw nearer to it. The consequence of + this was, that they were rarely attacked; whilst, on the other hand, + they constantly made war at such time, in such manner, and against + such peoples, as suited their convenience; and, among the many nations + which they assailed, there were very few that would not have submitted + to every species of injury at their hands if they had been willing to + leave them in peace. + + It being their custom to speak always as masters, the ambassadors whom + they sent to nations which had not yet felt their power were certain + to be insulted; and this was an infallible pretext for a new war. + + As they never made peace in good faith, and as, with the design of + universal conquest, their treaties were, properly speaking, only + suspensions of war, they always put conditions in them which began the + ruin of the states which accepted them. They either provided that the + garrisons of strong places should be withdrawn, or that the number of + troops should be limited, or that the horses or the elephants of the + vanquished party should be delivered over to themselves; and if the + defeated people was powerful on sea, they compelled it to burn its + vessels, and sometimes to remove, and occupy a place of habitation + farther inland. + + After having destroyed the armies of a prince, they ruined his + finances by excessive taxes, or by the imposition of a tribute under + the pretext of requiring him to pay the expenses of the war--a new + species of tyranny, which forced the vanquished sovereign to oppress + his own subjects, and thus to alienate their affection. + + When they granted peace to a king, they took some of his brothers or + children as hostages. This gave them the means of troubling his + kingdom at their pleasure. If they held the nearest heir, they + intimidated the possessor; if only a prince of a remote degree, they + used him to stir up revolts against the legitimate ruler. + + Whenever any people or prince withdrew their obedience from their + sovereign, they immediately accorded to them the title of allies of + the Roman people, and thus rendered them sacred and inviolable; so + that there was no king, however great he might be, who would for a + moment be sure of his subjects, or even of his family. + + Although the title of Roman ally was a species of servitude, it was, + nevertheless, very much sought after; for the possession of this title + made it certain that the recipients of it would receive injuries from + the Romans only, and there was ground for the hope that this class of + injuries would be rendered less grievous than they would otherwise be. + + Thus, there was no service which nations and kings were not ready to + perform, nor any humiliation which they did not submit to, in order to + obtain this distinction.... + + These customs were not merely some particular facts which happened at + hazard. They were permanently established principles, as may be + readily seen; for the maxims which the Romans acted upon against the + greatest powers were precisely those which they had employed in the + beginning of their career against the small cities which surrounded + them.... + + But nothing served Rome more effectually than the respect which she + inspired among all nations. She immediately reduced kings to silence, + and rendered them as dumb. With the latter, it was not a mere question + of the degree of their power; their very persons were attacked. To + risk a war with Rome was to expose themselves to captivity, to death, + and to the infamy of a triumph. Thus it was that kings, who lived in + pomp and luxury, did not dare to look with steady eyes upon the Roman + people, and, losing courage, they hoped, by their patience and their + obsequiousness, to obtain some postponement of the calamities with + which they were menaced. + +The "Spirit of Laws" is probably to be considered the masterpiece of +Montesquieu. It is our duty, however, to say that this work is quite +differently estimated by different authorities. By some, it is praised +in terms of the highest admiration, as a great achievement in wide and +wise political or juridical philosophy. By others, it is dismissed very +lightly, as the ambitious, or, rather, pretentious, effort of a +superficial man, a showy mere sciolist. + +The philosophical aim and ambition of the author at once appear in the +inquiry which he institutes for the three several animating _principles_ +of the several forms of government respectively distinguished by him; +namely, democracy (or republicanism), monarchy, and despotism. What +these three principles are will be seen from the following statement: +"As _virtue_ is necessary in a republic, and in a monarchy _honor_, so +_fear_ is necessary in a despotic government." The meaning is that in +republics virtue possessed by the citizens is the spring of national +prosperity; that under a monarchy the desire of preferment at the hands +of the sovereign is what quickens men to perform services to the State; +that despotism thrives by fear inspired in the breasts of those subject +to its sway. + +To illustrate the freely discursive character of the work, we give the +whole of chapter sixteen--there are chapters still shorter--in Book +VII.: + + AN EXCELLENT CUSTOM OF THE SAMNITES. + + The Samnites had a custom which in so small a republic, and especially + in their situation, must have been productive of admirable effects. + The young people were all convened in one place and their conduct was + examined. He that was declared the best of the whole assembly had + leave given him to take which girl he pleased for his wife; the second + best chose after him, and so on. Admirable institution! The only + recommendation that young men could have on this occasion was their + virtue and the service done their country. He who had the greatest + share of these endowments chose which girl he liked out of the whole + nation. Love, beauty, chastity, virtue, birth, and even wealth itself, + were all, in some measure, the dowry of virtue. A nobler and grander + recompense, less chargeable to a petty state and more capable of + influencing both sexes, could scarce be imagined. + + The Samnites were descended from the Lacedemonians; and Plato, whose + institutes are only an improvement of those of Lycurgus, enacted + nearly the same law. + +The relation of the foregoing chapter to the subject indicated in the +title of the book is sufficiently obscure and remote for a work like +this, purporting to be philosophical. What relation exists seems to be +found in the fact that the custom described tends to produce that +popular virtue by which republics flourish. But the information, at all +events, is curious and interesting. + +The following paragraphs, taken from the second chapter of Book XIV., +contain in germ a large part of the philosophy underlying M. Taine's +essays on the history of literature: + + OF THE DIFFERENCE OF MEN IN DIFFERENT CLIMATES. + + A cold air constringes the extremities of the external fibers of the + body; this increases their elasticity, and favors the return of the + blood from the extreme parts to the heart. It contracts those very + fibers; consequently it increases also their force. On the contrary, a + warm air relaxes and lengthens the extremes of the fibers; of course + it diminishes their force and elasticity. + + People are therefore more vigorous in cold climates. Here the action + of the heart and the reaction of the extremities of the fibers are + better performed, the temperature of the humors is greater, the blood + moves freer toward the heart, and reciprocally the heart has more + power. This superiority of strength must produce various effects; for + instance, a greater boldness--that is, more courage; a greater sense + of superiority--that is, less desire of revenge; a greater opinion of + security--that is, more frankness, less suspicion, policy, and + cunning. In short, this must be productive of very different tempers. + Put a man into a close, warm place, and for the reasons above given he + will feel a great faintness. If under this circumstance you propose a + bold enterprise to him, I believe you will find him very little + disposed towards it; his present weakness will throw him into a + despondency; he will be afraid of every thing, being in a state of + total incapacity. The inhabitants of warm countries are, like old men, + timorous; the people in cold countries are, like young men, brave. + +In the following extract, from chapter five, Book XXIV., the climatic +theory is again applied, this time to the matter of religion, in a style +that makes one think of Buckle's "History of Civilization": + + When the Christian religion, two centuries ago, became unhappily + divided into Catholic and Protestant, the people of the north embraced + the Protestant, and those south adhered still to the Catholic. + + The reason is plain: the people of the north have, and will forever + have, a spirit of liberty and independence, which the people of the + south have not; and therefore a religion which has no visible head is + more agreeable to the independency of the climate than that which has + one. + +Climate is a "great matter" with Montesquieu. In treating of the subject +of a State changing its religion, he says: + + The ancient religion is connected with the constitution of the + kingdom, and the new one is not; the former _agrees with the climate_, + and very often the new one is opposite to it. + +For the Christian religion, Montesquieu professes profound +respect--rather as a pagan political philosopher might do, than as one +intimately acquainted with it by a personal experience of his own. His +spirit, however, is humane and liberal. It is the spirit of Montaigne, +it is the spirit of Voltaire, speaking in the idiom of this different +man, and of this different man as influenced by his different +circumstances. Montesquieu had had practical proof of the importance to +himself of not offending the dominant hierarchy. + +On the whole, concerning Montesquieu it may justly be said, that of all +political philosophers, he, if not the profoundest, is at least one of +the most interesting; if not the most accurate and critical, at least +one of the most brilliant and suggestive. + +As to Montesquieu the man, it is perhaps sufficient to say that he seems +to have been a very good type of the French gentleman of quality. An +interesting story told by Sainte-Beuve reveals, if true, a side at once +attractive and repellent of his personal character. Montesquieu at +Marseilles employed a young boatman, whose manner and speech indicated +more cultivation than was to have been looked for in one plying his +vocation. The philosopher learned his history. The youth's father was at +the time a captive in one of the Barbary States, and this son of his was +now working to earn money for his ransom. The stranger listened +apparently unmoved, and went his way. Some months later, home came the +father, released he knew not how, to his surprised and overjoyed family. +The son guessed the secret, and, meeting Montesquieu a year or so after +in Marseilles, threw himself in grateful tears at his feet, begged the +generous benefactor to reveal his name and to come and see the family he +had blessed. Montesquieu, calmly expressing himself ignorant of the +whole business, actually shook the young fellow off, and turned away +without betraying the least emotion. It was not till after the +cold-blooded philanthropist's death that the fact came out. + +A tranquil, happy temperament was Montesquieu's. He would seem to have +come as near as any one ever did to being the natural master of his part +in life. But the world was too much for him; as it is for all--at last. +Witness the contrast of these two different sets of expressions from +his pen. In earlier manhood he says: + + Study has been for me the sovereign remedy for all the + dissatisfactions of life, having never had a sense of chagrin that an + hour's reading would not dissipate. I wake in the morning with a + secret joy to behold the light. I behold the light with a kind of + ravishment, and all the rest of the day I am happy. + +In late life, the brave, cheerful tone had declined to this: + + I am broken down with fatigue; I must repose for the rest of my life + +Then it took a further fall to this: + + I have expected to kill myself for the last three months, finishing an + addition to my work on the origin and changes of the French civil law. + It will take only three hours to read it; but, I assure you, it has + been such a labor to me, that my hair has turned white under it all. + +Finally it touches nadir: + + It [his work] has almost cost me my life; I must rest; I can work no + more. + + My candles are all burned out; I have set off all my cartridges. + +When Montesquieu died, only Diderot, among Parisian men of letters, +followed him to his tomb. + +Belonging to an entirely different world, literary, social, political, +from that in which Montesquieu flourished--more than one full century, +and that a French century, had intervened--was a man kindred in genius +with him, to whom, for the double reason that his intellectual rank +deserves it, and that the subject of his principal work is one to +command especially the interest of Americans, we feel compelled to +devote serious, though it must be hastening, attention. We refer to +Alexis de TOCQUEVILLE, the author of that famous book, "Democracy in +America." We can most conveniently discharge our duty by letting their +likeness in intellectual character and achievement bridge for us the +chasm of time between the two men, and thus considering the later in +conjunction here with the earlier author. + +"Democracy in America" is a most remarkable book to have been, as in +fact it was, the production of a young man of thirty. It was the fruit +of a tour in the United States undertaken by the writer ostensibly to +visit in an official capacity the prisons of the new nation that France +had helped create, in a kind of counterpoise to England, on this side of +the Atlantic. The inquisitive young French inspector inspected much more +than the prison system of the lusty infant republic. He observed and +studied American institutions and manners at large, in order to lay a +base line for the boldest speculative triangulation into the probable +political future of the world. + +Tocqueville held the belief that democracy, as a system of government, +was destined to prevail universally. He wrote his observations and +reflections, and he made his guesses, primarily for the instruction of +France. So confident was his conviction on the subject of democratic +destiny for his own country at least, that, while as yet the apparently +profound peace was undisturbed of the monarchical reaction under Louis +Philippe, he predicted an impending revolution; predicted in fact the +revolution which actually occurred in 1848. France, after that date, +both during the prophet's life, and subsequently to his death, +experienced her vibrations from, one form of government to another; but +no one can now deny that thus far the resultant tendency is in favor of +Tocqueville's bold speculative forecast of the political future of his +nation. The same thing is true, we think, more broadly, of the world in +general; and of this Brazil apparently furnishes a striking late +instance in confirmation. + +"Democracy in America" is a classic in literature. Its credit is highest +with those best qualified to form a judgment. But its fame is universal. +It associates its author in rank of genius with the foremost political +philosophers of the world--with Machiavelli, with Montesquieu, with +Burke. Every American aiming at a political career, every American +journalist having to discuss political subjects should be familiar with +this book. Mr. Bryce's more recent work on the United States, which has +sprung so suddenly into such commanding fame, by no means supersedes, +though it does most usefully supplement, the monumental treatise of +Tocqueville--a name generally miscalled "De Tocqueville." + +Of Alexis de Tocqueville's life it need only be said that, sprung of a +noble French family, he ran a respectable, though neither a brilliant, +nor a very influential, career in the politics of his country; until, +discontented with the second empire, that of the usurper, Louis +Napoleon, he retired, about 1851, from public service and devoted +himself to labor with the pen. His second chief work was "The Ancient +Régime," published in 1856, three years before his death. + +We cannot probably make a better brief selection, at once more +characteristic and more interesting, from Tocqueville's "Democracy in +America" than by presenting in large part the chapter entitled: "Causes +which render democratic armies weaker than other armies at the outset of +a campaign, and more formidable in a protracted warfare." + +A striking illustrative light was destined to be thrown by momentous +subsequent history in our own land on the sagacity and justness of the +speculations hazarded here by the author on his particular topic. + +It would not be far wrong to consider that Americans, by the great civil +war, furnished, in a single historical case, the double example required +for complete illustration of Tocqueville's point: an example of the +democratic, together with an example of the aristocratic, community +engaging in war after a long peace. Readers may make each his own +comparison of the Frenchman's philosophical speculations with the actual +facts that emerged in the course of our national strife: + + Any army is in danger of being conquered at the outset of a campaign, + after a long peace; any army which has long been engaged in warfare + has strong chances of victory: this truth is peculiarly applicable to + democratic armies. In aristocracies the military profession, being a + privileged career, is held in honor even in time of peace. Men of + great talents, great attainments, and great ambition embrace it; the + army is in all respects on a level with the nation, and frequently + above it. + + We have seen, on the contrary, that among a democratic people the + choicer minds of the nation are gradually drawn away from the + military profession to seek, by other paths, distinction, power, and + especially wealth. After a long peace--and in democratic ages the + periods of peace are long--the army is always inferior to the country + itself. In this state it is called into active service: and until war + has altered it, there is danger for the country as well as for the + army. + + I have shown that in democratic armies, and in time of peace, the rule + of seniority is the supreme and inflexible law of advancement. This is + not only a consequence, as I have before observed, of the constitution + of these armies, but of the constitution of the people, _and it will + always occur_. + +The words italicized by us above illustrate the intrepid firmness of our +author in staking the fortune of an opinion of his upon the risk of +confutation by future fact. He affirms, it will be seen, absolutely, and +does not seek to save himself by a clause. + + Again, as among these nations the officer derives his position in the + country solely from his position in the army, and as he draws all the + distinction and the competency he enjoys from the same source, he does + not retire from his profession or is not superannuated till toward the + extreme close of life. The consequence of these two causes is that + when a democratic people goes to war after a long interval of peace + all the leading officers of the army are old men. I speak not only of + the generals, but of the non-commissioned officers, who have most of + them been stationary, or have only advanced step by step. It may be + remarked with surprise that in a democratic army after a long peace + all the soldiers are mere boys, and all the superior officers in + declining years; so that the former are wanting in experience, the + latter in vigor. This is a strong element of defeat, _for the first + condition of successful generalship is youth_. I should not have + ventured to say so if the greatest captain of modern times had not + made the observation. [The unequaled success of the aged Von Moltke in + the conduct of the Prussian war against France in 1870 is here a + curious comment on the text.] + + * * * * * + + I am therefore of opinion that when a democratic people engages in a + war after a long peace, it incurs much more risk of defeat than any + other nation; but it ought not easily to be cast down by its reverses, + for the chances of success for such an army are increased by the + duration of the war. When a war has at length by its long continuance + roused the whole community from their peaceful occupations and ruined + their minor undertakings the same passions which made them attach so + much importance to the maintenance of peace will be turned to arms. + War, after it has destroyed all modes of speculation, becomes itself + the great and sole speculation, to which all the ardent and ambitious + desires which equality engenders are exclusively directed. Hence it is + that the self-same democratic nations which are so reluctant to engage + in hostilities sometimes perform prodigious achievements when once + they have taken the field. + + As the war attracts more and more of public attention, and is seen to + create high reputations and great fortunes in a short space of time, + the choicest spirits of the nation enter the military profession. All + the enterprising, proud, and martial minds, no longer of the + aristocracy solely, but of the whole country, are drawn in this + direction. As the number of competitors for military honors is + immense, and war drives every man to his proper level, great generals + are always sure to spring up. A long war produces upon a democratic + army the same effects that a revolution produces upon a people; it + breaks through regulations, and allows extraordinary men to rise above + the common level. Those officers whose bodies and minds have grown old + in peace are removed, or superannuated, or they die. In their stead a + host of young men are pressing on whose frames are already hardened, + whose desires are extended and inflamed by active service. They are + bent on advancement at all hazards, and perpetual advancement. They + are followed by others with the same passions and desires, and after + these are others yet, unlimited by aught but the size of the army. The + principle of equality opens the door of ambition to all, and death + provides chances for ambition. Death is constantly thinning the ranks, + making vacancies, closing and opening the career of arms. + + There is, moreover, a secret connection between the military character + and the character of democracies which war brings to light. The men of + democracies are naturally passionately eager to acquire what they + covet, and to enjoy it on easy conditions. They, for the most part, + worship chance, and are much less afraid of death than of difficulty. + This is the spirit which they bring to commerce and manufactures; and + this same spirit, carried with them to the field of battle, induces + them willingly to expose their lives in order to secure in a moment + the rewards of victory. No kind of greatness is more pleasing to the + imagination of a democratic people than military greatness--a + greatness of vivid and sudden luster, obtained without toil, by + nothing but the risk of life. + + Thus, while the interest and the tastes of the members of a democratic + community divert them from war, their habits of mind fit them for + carrying on war well; they soon make good soldiers when they are + roused from their business and their enjoyments. + + If peace is peculiarly hurtful to democratic armies, war secures to + them advantages which no other armies ever possess; and these + advantages, however little felt at first, cannot fail in the end to + give them the victory. An aristocratic nation which, in a contest with + a democratic people, does not succeed in ruining the latter at the + outset of the war always runs a great risk of being conquered by it. + +"Democracy in America" must be credited with a very important teaching +influence on the political thought of mankind. This influence is more +than the impulse of stimulating speculation. It is a practical force +fruitful of solid political result. The present writer remembers hearing +Tocqueville taught to eager audiences of French students in the Collège +de France, at Paris, by M. Laboulaye, a popular professor in that +national institution. This was while in France the second empire +remained as yet apparently firm on its base, and while in this country +the great duel between section and section remained as yet apparently +doubtful. The applause with which the lecturer's praise of free +institutions was greeted signified much. It signified that the leaven of +Tocqueville's ideas was working in those youthful hearts. (M. +Laboulaye's lectures, which possessed original merit of their own, were +finally published in a volume.) Present republican France owes, in no +despicable degree, its existence to the fact that Tocqueville had +visited, and reported, and interpreted the United States to his +countrymen. Perhaps, also, it is true that the American Union is +standing to-day partly because the popular sentiment created by +Tocqueville in France favorable to American democracy was too strong, +too vivid, and too universal, for the emperor safely to disregard it, in +imperial acts, long threatened, hostile to the integrity of the +republic. If Tocqueville's guess is right, if democratic institutions +are indeed ultimately to prevail throughout the world, certainly it +cannot be denied that the prophet himself will have done his part toward +fulfilling his prophecy. + +We feel that we shall have done scant justice to the high and serious +spirit who forms the subject of these concluding pages of the present +chapter, if we do not go from the one work itself, by example out of +which we have shown him, to expressions of his in his correspondence +that may let us a little deeper into the personal secret of the man +himself. Tocqueville, although, as we have intimated, a believer in the +democratic destiny of the world, was not such in virtue of being a +democrat by preference himself. On the contrary, his own aristocratic +blood favoring it perhaps, his individual choice would apparently have +gone, not for, but against, democracy. This seems to be indicated in +what follows, written to a friend concerning the purpose of his work, +"Democracy in America": + + I wished to show what in our days a democratic people really was, and, + by a rigorously accurate picture, to produce a double effect on the + men of my day. To those who have fancied an ideal democracy, as a + brilliant and easily realized dream, I undertook to show that they had + clothed the picture in false colors; that the democratic government + which they desired, though it may procure real benefits to the people + who can bear it, has none of the elevated features with which their + imaginations would endow it; and moreover, that such a government can + only maintain itself under certain conditions of faith, enlightenment, + and private morality, which we have not yet reached, and which we must + labor to attain before grasping their political results. + + To men for whom the word "democracy" is the synonym of overthrow, + spoliation, anarchy, and murder, I have endeavored to prove that it + was possible for democracy to govern society, and yet to respect + property, to recognize rights, to spare liberty, to honor religion; + that if democratic government is less fitted than other forms to + develop some of the finest faculties of the human soul, it has yet its + noble and its lovely features; and that perhaps, after all, it may be + the will of God to distribute a moderate degree of happiness to the + mass of men, and not to concentrate great felicity and great + perfection on a few. I have tried, moreover, to demonstrate that, + whatever might be their opinion upon these points, the time for + discussing them was past; that the world marched onward day by day + towards a condition of social equality, and dragged them and every one + along with it; that their only choice now lay between evils henceforth + inevitable; that the practical question of this day was not whether + you would have an aristocracy or a democracy, but whether you would + have a democratic society, without poetry and without grandeur, but + with morality and order; or a democratic society disorganized and + depraved, delivered over to a furious frenzy, or else bent beneath a + yoke heavier than any that have weighed upon mankind since the fall of + the Roman Empire. + +The "Commune" in France, "Nihilism" in Russia, "Socialism" in Germany, +"Nationalism" in the United States, are all of them, each in its own +different way, remarkable historical commentaries on the prophetic +political forecast contained in the foregoing letter. + +Here is ripe practical wisdom occurring in a letter written by +Tocqueville about two years before his death: + + You know that my most settled principle is, that there is no period of + a man's life at which he is entitled to _rest_; and that effort out of + one's self, and still more above one's self, is as necessary in age as + in youth--nay, even more necessary. Man in this world is like a + traveler who is always walking towards a colder region, and who is + therefore obliged to be more active as he goes farther north. The + great malady of the soul is _cold_. And in order to counteract and + combat this formidable illness, he must keep up the activity of his + mind not only by work, but by contact with his fellow-men and with the + world. Retirement from the great conflicts of the world is desirable + no doubt for those whose strength is on the decline; but absolute + retirement, away from the stir of life, is not desirable for any man, + nor at any age. + +His experience as practical politician made him write thus: + + It is a sad side of humanity that politics uncovers. We may say, + without making any exception, that nothing there is either thoroughly + pure or thoroughly disinterested; nothing really generous, nothing + hearty or spontaneous. There is no _youth_, even among the youngest; + and something cold, selfish, and premeditated may be detected even in + the most apparently passionate proceedings. + +There was so much wholesome reaction in Tocqueville's moral nature that, +notwithstanding the disparaging views, on his part, thus revealed of +human worth, he never became cynical. He could even write as follows to +a friend of his who, he thought, went too far in decrying mankind: + + You make humanity out worse than it is. I have seen many countries, + studied many men, mingled in many public transactions, and the result + of my observation is not what you suppose. Men in general are neither + very good nor very bad; they are simply _mediocre_. I have never + closely examined even the best without discovering faults and + frailties invisible at first. I have always in the end found among the + worst certain elements and _holding-points_ of honesty. There are two + men in every man: it is childish to see only one; it is sad and unjust + to look only at the other.... Man, with all his vices, his weaknesses, + and his virtues, this strange mixture of good and bad, of low and + lofty, of sincere and depraved, is, after all, the object most + deserving of study, interest, pity, affection, and admiration to be + found upon this earth; and since we have no angels, we cannot attach + ourselves to anything greater or worthier than our fellow-creatures. + +On the whole, Alexis de Tocqueville's own practice in life showed that +he wrote not only with sincerity, but with earnestness, when he wrote +those words. It was not of such Frenchmen as was Tocqueville that the +author of that heavy sentence on France could have been thinking--that +the French character was made up without conscience. We, for our part, +cannot but maintain that Tocqueville is as much more solid as he may be +less brilliant than his predecessor and fellow, Montesquieu. They were +both too theoretical; that is, too exclusively French as distinguished, +for instance, from English, in political philosophy. They began to be +deductive, when to be inductive yet longer would have been their wiser +part. In a word--like Guizot, too, the author of the "History of +Civilization," and the minister of Citizen-King Louis Philippe--both +Montesquieu and Tocqueville failed of escaping what the French would +call the defect of their quality. + + + + +XV. + +VOLTAIRE. + +1694-1778. + + +By the volume and the variety, joined to the unfailing brilliancy, of +his production; by his prodigious effectiveness; and by his universal +fame, Voltaire is undoubtedly entitled to rank first, with no fellow, +among the eighteenth-century literary men, not merely of France, but of +the world. He was not a great man, he produced no great single work, but +he must nevertheless be pronounced a great writer. There is hardly any +species of composition to which, in the long course of his activity, he +did not turn his talent. It cannot be said that he succeeded splendidly +in all; but in some he succeeded splendidly, and he failed abjectly in +none. There is not a great thought, and there is not a flat expression, +in the whole bulk of his multitudinous and multifarious works. Read him +wherever you will, in the ninety-seven volumes (equivalent, probably in +the aggregate, to two hundred volumes like the present) which, in one +leading edition, collect his productions, you may often find him +superficial, you may often find him untrustworthy, you will certainly +often find him flippant, but not less certainly you will never find him +obscure, and you will never find him dull. The clearness, the vivacity +of this man's mind were something almost preternatural. So, too, were +his readiness, his versatility, his audacity. He had no distrust of +himself, no awe of his fellow-men, no reverence for God, to deter him +from any attempt with his pen, however presuming. If a state ode were +required, it should be ready to order at twelve to-morrow; if an epic +poem--to be classed with the "Iliad" and the "Æneid "--the "Henriade" +was promptly forthcoming, to answer the demand. He did not shrink from +flouting a national idol, by freely finding fault with Corneille; and he +lightly undertook the task of extinguishing a venerable form of +Christianity, simply with pricks, innumerably repeated, of his +tormenting pen. + +A very large part of the volume of Voltaire's production consists of +letters, written by him to correspondents perhaps more numerous, and +more various in rank, from kings on the throne down to scribblers in the +garret, than ever, in any other case, exchanged such communications with +a literary man. Another considerable proportion of his work in +literature took the form of pamphlets, either anonymously or +pseudonymously published, in which this master-spirit of intellectual +disturbance and ferment found it convenient, or advantageous, or safe, +to promulge and propagate his ideas. A shower of such publications was +incessantly escaping from Voltaire's pen. More formal and regular, more +confessedly ambitious, literary essays of his, were poems in every +kind--heroic, mock-heroic, lyric, elegiac, comic, tragic, +satiric--historical and biographical monographs, and tales or novels of +a peculiar class. + +Voltaire's poetry does not count for very much now. Still, its first +success was so great that it will always remain an important topic in +literary history. Besides this, it really is, in some of its kinds, +remarkable work. Voltaire's epic verse is almost an exception, needful +to be made, from our assertion that this author is nowhere dull. "The +Henriade" comes dangerously near that mark. It is a tasteless +reproduction of Lucan's faults, with little reproduction of Lucan's +virtues. Voltaire's comedies are bright and witty, but they are not +laughter-provoking; and they do not possess the elemental and creative +character of Shakespeare's or Molière's work. His tragedies are better; +but they do not avoid that cast of mechanical which seems necessarily to +belong to poetry produced by talent, however consummate, unaccompanied +with genius. Voltaire's histories are luminous and readable narratives, +but they cannot claim the merit either of critical accuracy or of +philosophic breadth and insight. His letters would have to be read in +considerable volume in order to furnish a full satisfactory idea of the +author. His tales, finally, afford the most available, and, on the +whole, likewise the best means of arriving shortly and easily at a +knowledge of Voltaire. + +But, before coming to these, we owe it to our readers, and perhaps to +ourselves, to justify with example what, a little way back, we said of +Voltaire as epic poet. + +Voltaire was profoundly influenced by his personal observations of what +England was, alike in her literary, her political, and her theological +aspects. Voltairism may, in fact, be pronounced a transplantation from +English soil. It was English deism "mixed with cunning sparks +of"--French wit. A very short passage from the "Henriade" will suffice +the double purpose of showing what in quality of style that poem of +Voltaire's is, and of suggesting its author's sense of debt to the +England which, for its freedom and its free-thinking, he so much +admired. The reader will not fail to note the skill with which Voltaire +manages in praising another country to give a very broad hint to his +own. The old-fashioned formal heroic couplet, with rhyme, in which the +following passage appears translated, is not inapposite to the +artificial cast and style of the original. Various passions, such as +"Fear," are not only personified in the "Henriade," but made to play the +part of veritable characters in the action of the poem. Supernatural +interferences occur. History is boldly fabricated or falsified at the +pleasure of the poet. Of this audacious freedom the passage from which +we take our extract presents an instance. Voltaire sends his hero on a +mythical mission to England to solicit help from Queen Elizabeth. He +here meets every reader's familiar old friend, "a venerable hermit," who +instructs him in English history and manners. Voltaire wrote prefaces +and notes to vindicate his epic practices. He went to Virgil for +precedents. Lucan he censured for not making free enough with his +history. "Eliza" is, of course, Queen Elizabeth, and "Bourbon," is the +hero of the epic, Henry IV. of France, from whose name, it need not be +said, comes the title, "Henriade." We quote from the first canto of the +poem: + + A virgin queen the regal scepter sway'd, + And fate itself her sovereign power obeyed. + The wise Eliza, whose directing hand + Had the great scale of Europe at command; + And ruled a people that alike disdain + Or freedom's ease, or slavery's iron chain. + Of every loss her reign oblivion bred; + There, flocks unnumbered graze each flowery mead. + Britannia's vessels rule the azure seas, + Corn fills her plains, and fruitage loads her trees. + From pole to pole her gallant navies sweep + The waters of the tributary deep. + On Thames's banks each flower of genius thrives, + There sports the Muse, and Mars his thunder gives. + Three different powers at Westminster appear, + And all admire the ties which join them there. + Whom interest parts the laws together bring, + The people's deputies, the peers and king. + One whole they form, whose terror wide extends + To neighboring nations, and their rights defends. + Thrice happy times, when grateful subjects show + That loyal, warm affection which is due! + But happier still, when freedom's blessings spring + From the wise conduct of a prudent king! + O when, cried Bourbon, ravished at the sight, + In France shall peace and glory thus unite? + +A poem flaunting on its front invidious praise like the foregoing of a +foreign government so different from the government of France, could not +be very acceptable to the ruling classes of his time in the author's own +country. But in England, during the poet's two years' stay in that +island, a revised edition of the "Henriade" was issued under auspices +the most august and imposing. Queen Caroline headed the list of +subscribers, and such was the brilliancy of the patronage extended to +the poem that Voltaire, as is with probability said, netted forty +thousand dollars from his English edition--a sum of money equivalent to, +say, one hundred thousand dollars, present value. This early success +laid the foundation of a fortune for Voltaire, which the skill, the +prudence, the servility, the greed, and the unscrupulousness of the +owner subsequently built into proportions that were nothing less than +princely. Voltaire's annual income at his death was about a hundred +thousand dollars. It seems incredible that a man so rich, and, in some +ways, it must be acknowledged, so generous, should have been at the same +time so mean, so sordid, so literally perjured in sordidness, as +Voltaire is demonstrated, and admitted even by his farthest-going +admirers, for instance, Mr. John Morley, to have been. + +Among Voltaire's tales doubtless the one most eligible for use, to serve +our present purpose, is his "Candide." This is a nondescript piece of +fiction, the design of which is, by means of a narrative of travel and +adventure, constructed without much regard to the probability of +particular incidents, to set forth, in the characteristic mocking vein +of Voltaire, the vanity and misery of mankind. The author's invention is +often whimsical enough; but it is constantly so ready, so reckless, and +so abundant, that the reader never tires as he is hurried ceaselessly +forward from change to change of scene and circumstance. The play of +wit is incessant. The style is limpidity itself. Your sympathies are +never painfully engaged, even in recitals of experience that ought to be +the most heart-rending. There is never a touch of noble moral sentiment +to relieve the monotony of mockery that lightly laughs at you and +tantalizes you, page after page, from the beginning to the end of the +book. The banter is not good-natured; though, on the other hand, it +cannot justly be pronounced ill-natured; and it is, in final effect upon +the reader's mind, bewildering and depressing in the extreme. Vanity of +vanities, all is vanity; such is the comfortless doctrine of the book. +The apples are the apples of Sodom, everywhere in the world. There is no +virtue anywhere, no good, no happiness. Life is a cheat, the love of +life is a cruelty, and beyond life there is nothing. At least, there is +no glimpse given of any compensating future reserved for men, a future +to redress the balance of good and ill experienced here and now. Faith +and hope, those two eyes of the soul, are smilingly quenched in their +sockets, and you are left blind, in a whirling world of darkness, with a +whirling world of darkness before you. + +Such is "Candide." We select a single passage for specimen. The passage +we select is more nearly free than almost any other passage as long, in +this extraordinary romance, would probably be found, from impure +implications. It is, besides, more nearly serious in apparent motive +than is the general tenor of the production. Here, however, as +elsewhere, the writer keeps carefully down his mocking mask. At least, +you are left tantalizingly uncertain all the time how much the grin you +face is the grin of the man, and how much the grin of a visor that he +wears. + +Candide, the hero, is a young fellow of ingenuous character brought +successively under the lead of several different persons wise in the +ways of the world, who act toward him, each in his turn, the part of +"guide, philosopher, and friend." Candide, with such a mentor bearing +the name Martin, has now arrived at Venice. Candide speaks: + + "I have heard a great talk of the Senator Pococuranté, who lives in + that fine house at the Brenta, where they say he entertains foreigners + in the most polite manner. They pretend this man is a perfect stranger + to uneasiness." "I should be glad to see so extraordinary a being," + said Martin. Candide thereupon sent a messenger to Signor Pococuranté + desiring permission to wait on him the next day. + + Candide and his friend Martin went into a gondola on the Brenta, and + arrived at the palace of the noble Pococuranté: the gardens were laid + out in elegant taste and adorned with fine marble statues; his palace + was built after the most approved rules of architecture. The master of + the house, who was a man of sixty, and very rich, received our two + travelers with great politeness, but without much ceremony, which + somewhat disconcerted Candide, but was not at all displeasing to + Martin. + + As soon as they were seated two very pretty girls, neatly dressed, + brought in chocolate, which was extremely well frothed. Candide could + not help making encomiums upon their beauty and graceful carriage. + "The creatures are well enough," said the senator. "I make them my + companions, for I am heartily tired of the ladies of the town, their + coquetry, their jealousy, their quarrels, their humors, their + meannesses, their pride, and their folly. I am weary of making + sonnets, or of paying for sonnets to be made, on them; but, after all, + these two girls begin to grow very indifferent to me." + + After having refreshed himself, Candide walked into a large gallery, + where he was struck with the sight of a fine collection of paintings. + + "Pray," said Candide, "by what master are the two first of these?" + "They are Raphael's," answered the senator. "I gave a great deal of + money for them seven years ago, purely out of curiosity, as they were + said to be the finest pieces in Italy: but I cannot say they please + me; the coloring is dark and heavy; the figures do not swell nor come + out enough, and the drapery is very bad. In short, notwithstanding the + encomiums lavished upon them, they are not, in my opinion, a true + representation of nature. I approve of no paintings but where I think + I behold Nature herself; and there are very few, if any, of that kind + to be met with. I have what is called a fine collection, but I take no + manner of delight in them." + + While dinner was getting ready Pococuranté ordered a concert. Candide + praised the music to the skies. "This noise," said the noble Venetian, + "may amuse one for a little time; but if it was to last above half an + hour it would grow tiresome to everybody, though perhaps no one would + care to own it. Music is become the art of executing what is + difficult; now, whatever is difficult cannot be long pleasing. + + "I believe I might take more pleasure in an opera, if they had not + made such a monster of that species of dramatic entertainment as + perfectly shocks me; and I am amazed how people can bear to see + wretched tragedies set to music, where the scenes are contrived for + no other purpose than to lug in, as it were by the ears, three or four + ridiculous songs, to give a favorite actress an opportunity of + exhibiting her pipe. Let who will or can die away in raptures at the + trills of a eunuch quavering the majestic part of Cæsar or Cato, and + strutting in a foolish manner upon the stage. For my part, I have long + ago renounced these paltry entertainments, which constitute the glory + of modern Italy, and are so dearly purchased by crowned heads." + Candide opposed these sentiments, but he did it in a discreet manner. + As for Martin, he was entirely of the old senator's opinion. + + Dinner being served up, they sat down to table, and after a very + hearty repast, returned to the library. Candide, observing Homer + richly bound, commended the noble Venetian's taste. "This," said he, + "is a book that was once the delight of the great Pangloss, the best + philosopher in Germany." "Homer is no favorite of mine," answered + Pococuranté very coolly. "I was made to believe once that I took a + pleasure in reading him; but his continual repetitions of battles must + have all such a resemblance with each other; his gods that are forever + in a hurry and bustle, without ever doing any thing; his Helen, that + is the cause of the war, and yet hardly acts in the whole performance; + his Troy, that holds out so long without being taken; in short, all + these things together make the poem very insipid to me. I have asked + some learned men whether they are not in reality as much tired as + myself with reading this poet. Those who spoke ingenuously assured me + that he had made them fall asleep, and yet that they could not well + avoid giving him a place in their libraries; but that it was merely as + they would do an antique, or those rusty medals which are kept only + for curiosity, and are of no manner of use in commerce." + + "But your excellency does not surely form the same opinion of Virgil?" + said Candide. "Why, I grant," replied Pococuranté, "that the second, + third, fourth, and sixth books of his 'Æneid' are excellent; but as + for his pious Æneas, his strong Cloanthus, his friendly Achates, his + boy Ascanius, his silly King Latinus, his ill-bred Amata, his insipid + Lavinia, and some other characters much in the same strain, I think + there cannot in nature be anything more flat and disagreeable. I must + confess I prefer Tasso far beyond him; nay, even that sleepy + tale-teller Ariosto." + + "May I take the liberty to ask if you do not receive great pleasure + from reading Horace?" said Candide. "There are maxims in this writer," + replied Pococuranté, "from whence a man of the world may reap some + benefit; and the short measure of the verse makes them more easily to + be retained in the memory. But I see nothing extraordinary in his + journey to Brundusium, and his account of his bad dinner; nor in his + dirty, low quarrel between one Rupilius, whose words, as he expresses + it, were full of poisonous filth; and another, whose language was + dipped in vinegar. His indelicate verses against old women and + witches have frequently given me great offense; nor can I discover the + great merit of his telling his friend Mæcenas, that, if he will but + rank him in the class of lyric poets, his lofty head shall touch the + stars. Ignorant readers are apt to advance everything by the lump in a + writer of reputation. For my part, I read only to please myself. I + like nothing but what makes for my purpose." Candide, who had been + brought up with a notion of never making use of his own judgment, was + astonished at what he heard; but Martin found there was a good deal of + reason in the senator's remarks. + + "Oh, here is a Tully!" said Candide; "this great man, I fancy, you are + never tired of reading." "Indeed, I never read him at all," replied + Pococuranté. "What the deuce is it to me whether he pleads for + Rabirius or Cluentius? I try causes enough myself. I had once some + liking to his philosophical works; but when I found he doubted of + everything, I thought I knew as much as himself, and had no need of a + guide to learn ignorance." + + "Ha!" cried Martin, "here are fourscore volumes of the 'Memoirs of the + Academy of Sciences,' perhaps there may be something curious and + valuable in this collection." "Yes," answered Pococuranté; "so there + might, if any one of these compilers of this rubbish had only invented + the art of pin-making. But all these volumes are filled with mere + chimerical systems, without one single article conducive to real + utility." + + "I see a prodigious number of plays," said Candide, "in Italian, + Spanish, and French." "Yes," replied the Venetian; "there are, I + think, three thousand, and not three dozen of them good for anything. + As to those huge volumes of divinity, and those enormous collections + of sermons, they are not all together worth one single page of Seneca; + and I fancy you will readily believe that neither myself nor any one + else ever looks into them." + + Martin, perceiving some shelves filled with English books, said to the + senator: "I fancy that a republican must be highly delighted with + those books, which are most of them written with a noble spirit of + freedom." "It is noble to write as we think," said Pococuranté; "it is + the privilege of humanity. Throughout Italy we write only what we do + not think; and the present inhabitants of the country of the Cæsars + and Antoninuses dare not acquire a single idea without the permission + of a father Dominican. I should be enamored of the spirit of the + English nation did it not utterly frustrate the good effects it would + produce by passion and the spirit of party." + + Candide, seeing a Milton, asked the senator if he did not think that + author a great man. "Who?" said Pococuranté sharply. "That barbarian, + who writes a tedious commentary, in ten books of rambling verse, on + the first chapter of Genesis! That slovenly imitator of the Greeks, + who disfigures the creation by making the Messiah take a pair of + compasses from heaven's armory to plan the world; whereas Moses + represented the Deity as producing the whole universe by his fiat! Can + I think you have any esteem for a writer who has spoiled Tasso's hell + and the devil; who transforms Lucifer, sometimes into a toad, and at + others into a pigmy; who makes him say the same thing over again a + hundred times; who metamorphoses him into a school-divine; and who, by + an absurdly serious imitation of Ariosto's comic invention of + fire-arms, represents the devils and angels cannonading each other in + heaven! Neither I, nor any other Italian, can possibly take pleasure + in such melancholy reveries. But the marriage of Sin and Death, and + snakes issuing from the womb of the former, are enough to make any + person sick that is not lost to all sense of delicacy. This obscene, + whimsical, and disagreeable poem met with the neglect that it deserved + at its first publication; and I only treat the author now as he was + treated in his own country by his contemporaries." + + Candide was sensibly grieved at this speech, as he had a great respect + for Homer, and was very fond of Milton. "Alas!" said he softly to + Martin, "I am afraid this man holds our German poets in great + contempt." "There would be no such great harm in that," said Martin. + "Oh, what a surprising man!" said Candide to himself. "What a + prodigious genius is this Pococuranté! Nothing can please him!" + + After finishing their survey of the library they went down into the + garden, when Candide commended the several beauties that offered + themselves to his view. "I know nothing upon earth laid out in such + bad taste," said Pococuranté; "everything about it is childish and + trifling; but I shall have another laid out to-morrow upon a nobler + plan." + + As soon as our two travelers had taken leave of his excellency, + "Well," said Candide to Martin, "I hope you will own that this man is + the happiest of all mortals, for he is above everything he possesses." + "But do you not see," answered Martin, "that he likewise dislikes + everything he possesses? It was an observation of Plato long since, + that those are not the best stomachs that reject, without distinction, + all sorts of aliments." "True," said Candide; "but still, there must + certainly be a pleasure in criticising everything, and in perceiving + faults where others think they see beauties." "That is," replied + Martin, "there is a pleasure in having no pleasure." "Well, well," + said Candide. "I find that I shall be the only happy man at last, when + I am blessed with the sight of my dear Cunegund." "It is good to + hope," said Martin. + +The single citation preceding sufficiently exemplifies, at their best, +though at their worst not, the style and the spirit of Voltaire's +"Candide;" as his "Candide" sufficiently exemplifies the style and the +spirit of the most characteristic of Voltaire's writings in general. +"Pococurantism" is a word, now not uncommon in English, contributed by +Voltaire to the vocabulary of literature. To readers of the foregoing +extract, the sense of the term will not need to be explained. We +respectfully suggest to our dictionary-makers, that the fact stated of +its origin in the "Candide" of Voltaire would be interesting and +instructive to many. Voltaire coined the name, to suit the character of +his Venetian gentleman, from two Italian words which mean together +"little-caring." Signor Pococuranté is the immortal type of men that +have worn out their capacity of fresh sensation and enjoyment. + +Mr. John Morley's elaborate monograph on Voltaire claims the attention +of readers desirous of exhaustive acquaintance with its subject. This +author writes in sympathy with Voltaire, so far as Voltaire was an enemy +of the Christian religion; but in antipathy to him, so far as Voltaire +fell short of being an atheist. A similar sympathy, limited by a similar +antipathy, is observable in the same author's still more extended +monograph on Rousseau. The sympathy works without the antipathy to limit +it, in Mr. Morley's two volumes on "Diderot and the Encyclopædists"--for +Diderot and his closest fellows were good thorough-going atheists. + +Even in Voltaire and Rousseau, but particularly in Voltaire, Mr. Morley, +though his sympathy with these writers is, as we have said, not +complete, finds far more to praise than to blame. To this eager apostle +of atheism, Voltaire was at least on the right road, although he did, +unfortunately, stop short of the goal. His influence was potent against +Christianity, and potent it certainly was not against atheism. Voltaire +might freely be lauded as on the whole a mighty and a beneficent +liberalizer of thought. + +And we, we who are neither atheists nor deists--let us not deny to +Voltaire his just meed of praise. There were streaks of gold in the base +alloy of that character of his. He burned with magnanimous heat against +the hideous doctrine and practice of ecclesiastical persecution. Carlyle +says of Voltaire, that he "spent his best efforts, and as many still +think, successfully, in assaulting the Christian religion." This, true +though it be, is liable to be falsely understood. It was not against the +Christian religion, as the Christian religion really is, but rather +against the Christian religion as the Roman hierarchy misrepresented it, +that Voltaire ostensibly directed his efforts. "You are right," wrote he +to his henchman D'Alembert, in 1762, "in assuming that I speak of +superstition only; for as to the Christian religion, I respect it and +love it, as you do." This distinction of Voltaire's, with whatever +degree of simple sincerity on his part made, ought to be remembered in +his favor, when his memorable motto, "_Écrasez l'Infâme_," is +interpreted and applied. He did not mean Jesus Christ by _l'Infâme_; he +did not mean the Christian religion by it; he did not even mean the +Christian Church by it; he meant the oppressive despotism and the crass +obscurantism of the Roman Catholic hierarchy. At least, this is what he +would have said that he meant, what in fact he substantially did say +that he meant, when incessantly reiterating, in its various forms, his +watchword, "_Écrasez l'Infâme_," "_Écrasons l'Infâme_"--"Crush the +wretch!" "Let us crush the wretch!" His blows were aimed, perhaps, at +"superstition;" but they really fell, in the full half of their effect, +on Christianity itself. Whether Voltaire regretted this, whether he +would in his heart have had it otherwise, may well, in spite of any +protestation from him of love for Christianity, be doubted. Still, it is +never, in judgment of Voltaire, to be forgotten that the organized +Christianity which he confronted was in large part a system justly +hateful to the true and wise lover, whether of God or of man. That +system he did well in fighting. Carnal indeed were the weapons with +which he fought it; and his victory over it was a carnal victory, +bringing, on the whole, but slender net advantage, if any such advantage +at all, to the cause of final truth and light. The French Revolution, +with its excesses and its horrors, was perhaps the proper, the +legitimate, the necessary, fruit of resistance such as was Voltaire's, +in fundamental spirit, to the evils in Church and in State against +which he conducted so gallantly his life-long campaign. + +But though we thus bring in doubt the work of Voltaire, both as to the +purity of its motive and as to the value of its fruit, we should wrong +our sense of justice to ourselves if we permitted our readers to suppose +us blind to the generous things that this arch-infidel did on behalf of +the suffering and the oppressed. Voltaire more than once wielded that +pen of his, the most dreaded weapon in Europe, like a knight sworn to +take on himself the championship of the forlornest of causes. There is +the historic case of Jean Calas at Toulouse, Protestant, an old man of +near seventy, broken on the wheel, as suspected, without evidence, and +against accumulated impossibilities, of murdering his own son, a young +man of about thirty, by hanging him. Voltaire took up the case and +pleaded it to the common sense, and to the human feeling, of France, +with immense effectiveness. It is, in truth, Voltaire's advocacy of +righteousness, in this instance of incredible wrong, that has made the +instance itself immortal. His part in the case of Calas, though the most +signal, is not the only example of Voltaire's literary knighthood. He +hated oppression, and he loved liberty, for himself and for all men, +with a passion as deep and as constant as any passion of which nature +had made Voltaire capable. If the liberty that he loved was +fundamentally liberty as against God no less than as against men, and if +the oppression that he hated was fundamentally the oppression of being +put under obligation to obey Christ as lord of life and of thought, this +was something of which, probably, Voltaire never had a clear +consciousness. + +We have now indicated what was most admirable in Voltaire's personal +character. On the whole, he was far from being an admirable man. He was +vain, he was shallow, he was frivolous, he was deceitful, he was +voluptuous, he fawned on the great, he abased himself before them, he +licked the dust on which they stood. "_Trajan, est-il content?_" ("Is +Trajan satisfied?")--this, asked, in nauseous adulation, and nauseous +self-abasement, by Voltaire of Louis XV., so little like Trajan in +character--is monumental. The occasion was the production of a piece of +Voltaire's written at the instance of Louis XV.'s mistress, the infamous +Madame de Pompadour. The king, for answer, simply gorgonized the poet +with a stony Bourbon stare. + +But, taken altogether, Voltaire's life was a great success. He got on in +the world, was rich, was fortunate, was famous, was gay, if he was not +happy. He had his friendship with the great Frederick of Prussia, who +filled for his false French flatterer a return cup of sweetness, +cunningly mixed with exceeding bitterness. His death was an appropriate +_coup de théâtre_, a felicity of finish to such a life quite beyond the +reach of art. He came back to Paris, whence he had been an exile, +welcomed with a triumph transcending the triumph of a conqueror. They +made a great feast for him, a feast of flattery, in the theater. The old +man was drunk with delight. The delight was too much for him. It +literally killed him. It was as if a favorite actress should be quite +smothered to death on the stage under flowers thrown in excessive +profusion at her feet. + +Let Carlyle's sentence be our epigraph on Voltaire: + +"No great Man.... Found always at the top, less by power in swimming +than by lightness in floating." + + + + +XVII + +ROUSSEAU: 1712-1778; St. Pierre: 1737-1814. + + +There are two Rousseaus in French literature. At least there was a +first, until the second effaced him, and became the only. + +We speak, of course, in comparison, and hyperbolically. J. B. Rousseau +is still named as a lyric poet of the time of Louis XIV. But when +Rousseau, without initials, is spoken of, it is always Jean Jacques +Rousseau that is meant. + +Jean Jacques Rousseau is perhaps the most squalid, as it certainly is +one of the most splendid, among French literary names. The squalor +belongs chiefly to the man, but the splendor is wholly the writer's. +There is hardly another example in the world's literature of a union so +striking of these opposites. + +Rousseau's life he has himself told, in the best, the worst, and the +most imperishable of his books, the "Confessions." This book is one to +which the adjective charming attaches, in a peculiarly literal sense of +the word. The spell, however, is repellent as well as attractive. But +the attraction of the style asserts and pronounces itself only the more, +in triumph over the much there is in the matter to disgust and revolt. +It is quite the most offensive, and it is well-nigh the most +fascinating, book that we know. + +The "Confessions" begin as follows: + + I purpose an undertaking that never had an example, and whose + execution never will have an imitator. I would exhibit to my fellows a + man, in all the truth of nature, and that man--myself. + + Myself alone. I know my own heart, and I am acquainted with men. I am + made unlike any one I have ever seen--I dare believe unlike any living + being. If no better than, I am at least different from, others. + Whether nature did well or ill in breaking the mold wherein I was + cast, can be determined only after having read me. + + Let the last trumpet sound when it will, I will come, with this book + in my hand, and present myself before the Sovereign Judge. I will + boldly proclaim: Thus have I acted, thus have I thought, such was I. + With equal frankness have I disclosed the good and the evil. I have + omitted nothing bad, added nothing good; and if I have happened to + make use of some unimportant ornament, it has, in every case, been + simply for the purpose of filling up a void occasioned by my lack of + memory. I may have taken for granted as true what I knew to be + possible, never what I knew to be false. Such as I was, I have + exhibited myself--despicable and vile, when so; virtuous, generous, + sublime, when so. I have unveiled my interior being, such as Thou, + Eternal Existence, hast beheld it. Assemble around me the numberless + throng of my fellow-mortals; let them listen to my confessions, let + them blush at my depravities, let them shrink appalled at my miseries. + Let each of them, in his turn, with equal sincerity, lay bare his + heart at the foot of thy throne, and then let a single one tell thee, + if he dare, _I was better than that man_. + +Notwithstanding our autobiographer's disavowal of debt to example for +the idea of his "Confessions," it seems clear that Montaigne here was at +least inspiration, if not pattern, to Rousseau. But Rousseau resolved to +do what Montaigne had done, more ingenuously and more courageously than +Montaigne had done it. This writer will make himself his subject, and +then treat his subject with greater frankness than any man before him +ever used about himself, or than any man after him would ever use. He +undoubtedly succeeded in his attempt. His frankness, in fact, is so +forward and eager that it is probably even inventive of things +disgraceful to himself. Montaigne makes great pretense of telling his +own faults, but you observe that he generally chooses rather amiable +faults of his own to tell. Rousseau's morbid vulgarity leads him to +disclose traits in himself of character or of behavior, that, despite +whatever contrary wishes on your part, compel your contempt of the man. +And it is for the man who confesses, almost more than for the man who is +guilty, that you feel the contempt. + +The "Confessions" proceed: + + I was born at Geneva, in 1712, of Isaac Rousseau and Susannah Bernard, + citizens.... I came into the world weak and sickly. I cost my mother + her life, and my birth was the first of my misfortunes. + + I never learned how my father supported his loss, but I know that he + remained ever after inconsolable.... When he used to say to me, "Jean + Jacques, let us speak of your mother," my usual reply was, "Well, + father, we'll cry then," a reply which would instantly bring the tears + to his eyes. "Ah!" he would exclaim with agitation, "give me her back, + console me for her loss, fill up the void she has left in my soul. + Could I love thee thus wert thou but _my_ son?" Forty years after + having lost her he expired in the arms of a second wife, but with the + name of the first on his lips, and her image engraven on his heart. + + Such were the authors of my being. Of all the gifts Heaven had + allotted them, a feeling heart was the only one I had inherited. + While, however, this had been the source of their happiness, it became + the spring of all my misfortunes. + +"A feeling heart!" That expression tells the literary secret of +Rousseau. It is hardly too much to say that Rousseau was the first +French writer to write with his heart; but heart's blood was the ink in +which almost every word of Rousseau's was written. This was the spring +of his marvelous power. Rousseau: + + My mother had left a number of romances. These father and I betook us + to reading during the evenings. At first the sole object was, by means + of entertaining books, to improve me in reading; but, ere long, the + charm became so potent, that we read turn about without intermission, + and passed whole nights in this employment. Never could we break up + till the end of the volume. At times my father, hearing the swallows + of a morning, would exclaim, quite ashamed of himself, "Come, let's to + bed; I'm more of a child than you are!" + +The elder Rousseau was right respecting himself. And such a father would +almost necessarily have such a child. Jean Jacques Rousseau is to be +judged tenderly for his faults. What birth and what breeding were his! +The "Confessions" go on: + + I soon acquired, by this dangerous course, not only an extreme + facility in reading and understanding, but, for my age, a quite + unprecedented acquaintance with the passions. I had not the slightest + conception of things themselves at a time when the whole round of + sentiments was already perfectly familiar to me. I had apprehended + nothing--I had felt all. + +Some hint now of other books read by the boy: + + .... Plutarch especially became my favorite reading. The pleasure + which I found in incessantly reperusing him cured me in some measure + of the romance madness: and I soon came to prefer Agesilaus, Brutus, + and Aristides to Orondates, Artemenes, and Juba. From these + interesting studies, joined to the conversations to which they gave + rise with my father, resulted that free, republican spirit, that + haughty and untamable character, fretful of restraint or subjection, + which has tormented me my life long, and that in situations the least + suitable for giving it play. Incessantly occupied with Rome and + Athens, living, so to speak, with their great men, born myself the + citizen of a republic [Geneva], the son of a father with whom + patriotism was the ruling passion, I caught the flame from him--I + imagined myself a Greek or a Roman, and became the personage whose + life I was reading. + +On such food of reading and of reverie, young Rousseau's imagination and +sentiment battened, while his reason and his practical sense starved and +died within him. Unconsciously thus in part were formed the dreamer of +the "Émile" and of "The Social Contract." Another glimpse of the home +life--if home life such experience can be called--of this half-orphan, +homeless Genevan boy: + + I had a brother, my elder by seven years.... He fell into the ways of + debauchery, even before he was old enough to be really a libertine. + ... I remember once when my father was chastising him severely and in + anger, that I impetuously threw myself between them, clasping him + tightly. I thus covered him with my body, receiving the blows that + were aimed at him; and I held out so persistently in this position, + that whether softened by my cries and tears, or fearing that I should + get the worst of it, my father was forced to forgive him. In the end + my brother turned out so bad that he ran away and disappeared + altogether. + +It is pathetic--Rousseau's attempted contrast following, between the +paternal neglect of his older brother and the paternal indulgence of +himself: + + If this poor lad was carelessly brought up, it was quite otherwise + with his brother.... My desires were so little excited, and so little + crossed, that it never came into my head to have any. I can solemnly + aver, that till the time when I was bound to a master I never knew + what it was to have a whim. + +Poor lad! "Never knew what it was to have a whim!" It well might be, +however--his boy's life all one whim uncrossed, unchecked; no contrast +of saving restraint, to make him know that he was living by whim alone! + +Young Jean Jacques was at length apprenticed to an engraver. He +describes the contrast of his new situation and the effect of the +contrast upon his own character and career: + + I learned to covet in silence, to dissemble, to dissimulate, to lie, + and at last to steal, a propensity for which I had never hitherto had + the slightest inclination, and of which I have never since been able + quite to cure myself.... + + My first theft was the result of complaisance, but it opened the door + to others which had not so laudable a motive. + + My master had a journeyman named M. Verrat.... [He] took it into his + head to rob his mother of some of her early asparagus and sell it, + converting the proceeds into some extra good breakfasts. As he did not + wish to expose himself, and not being very nimble, he selected me for + this expedition. Long did I stickle, but he persisted. I never could + resist kindness, so I consented. I went every morning to the garden, + gathered the best of the asparagus, and took it to "the Molard," where + some good creature, perceiving that I had just been stealing it, would + insinuate that little fact, so as to get it the cheaper. In my terror + I took whatever she chose to give me and carried it to M. Verrat. + + This little domestic arrangement continued for several days before it + came into my head to rob the robber, and tithe M. Verrat for the + proceeds of the asparagus.... I thus learned that to steal was, after + all, not so very terrible a thing as I had conceived, and ere long I + turned this discovery to so good an account, that nothing I had an + inclination for could safely be left within my reach.... + + And now, before giving myself over to the fatality of my destiny, let + me, for a moment, contemplate what would naturally have been my lot + had I fallen into the hands of a better master. Nothing was more + agreeable to my tastes, nor better calculated to render me happy, than + the calm and obscure condition of a good artisan, more especially in + certain lines, such as that of an engraver at Geneva.... In my native + country, in the bosom of my religion, of my family, and my friends, I + should have led a life gentle and uncheckered as became my character, + in the uniformity of a pleasing occupation and among connections dear + to my heart. I should have been a good Christian, a good citizen, a + good father, a good friend, a good artisan, and a good man in every + respect. I should have loved my station; it may be I should have been + an honor to it; and after having passed an obscure and simple, though + even and happy, life, I should peacefully have departed in the bosom + of my kindred. Soon, it may be, forgotten, I should at least have been + regretted as long as the remembrance of me survived. + + Instead of this ... what a picture am I about to draw! + +Thus ends the first book of the "Confessions." + +The picture Rousseau is "about to draw" has in it a certain Madame de +Warens for a principal figure. This lady, a Roman Catholic convert from +Protestantism, had forsaken a husband, not loved, and was living on a +bounty from King Victor Amadeus of Sardinia. For Annecy, the home of +Madame de Warens, our young Jean Jacques, sent thither by a Roman +Catholic curate, sets out on foot. The distance was but one day's walk; +which one day's walk, however, the humor of the wanderer stretched into +a saunter of three days. The man of fifty-four, become the biographer of +his own youth, finds no lothness of self-respect to prevent his +detailing the absurd adventures with which he diverted himself on the +way. For example: + + Not a country-seat could I see, either to the right or left, without + going after the adventure which I was certain awaited me. I could not + muster courage to enter the mansion, nor even to knock, for I was + excessively timid; but I sang beneath the most inviting window, very + much astonished to find, after wasting my breath, that neither lady + nor miss made her appearance, attracted by the beauty of my voice, or + the spice of my songs--seeing that I knew some capital ones that my + comrades had taught me, and which I sang in the most admirable manner. + +Rousseau describes the emotions he experienced in his first meeting with +Madame de Warens: + + I had pictured to myself a grim old devotee--M. de Pontverre's "worthy + lady" could, in my opinion, be none other. But lo, a countenance + beaming with charms, beautiful, mild blue eyes, a complexion of + dazzling fairness, the outline of an enchanting neck! Nothing escaped + the rapid glance of the young proselyte; for that instant I was hers, + sure that a religion preached by such missionaries could not fail to + lead to paradise! + +This abnormally susceptible youth had remarkable experiences, all within +his own soul, during his sojourn, of a few days only, on the present +occasion, under Madame de Warens's hospitable roof. These experiences, +the autobiographer, old enough to call himself "old dotard," has, +nevertheless, not grown wise enough to be ashamed to be very detailed +and psychological in recounting. It was a case of precocious love at +first sight. One could afford to laugh at it as ridiculous, but that it +had a sequel full of sin and of sorrow. Jean Jacques was now forwarded +to Turin, to become inmate of a sort of charity school for the +instruction of catechumens. The very day after he started on foot, his +father, with a friend of his, reached Annecy on horseback, in pursuit of +the truant boy. They might easily have overtaken him, but they let him +go his way. Rousseau explains the case on behalf of his father as +follows: + + My father was not only an honorable man, but a person of the most + reliable probity, and endowed with one of those powerful minds that + perform deeds of loftiest heroism. I may add, he was a good father, + especially to me. Tenderly did he love me, but he loved his pleasures + also, and, since our living apart, other ties had, in a measure, + weakened his paternal affection. He had married again, at Nyon; and + though his wife was no longer of an age to present me with brothers, + yet she had connections; another family circle was thus formed, other + objects engrossed his attention, and the new domestic relations no + longer so frequently brought back the remembrance of me. My father was + growing old, and had nothing on which to rely for the support of his + declining years. My brother and I had something coming to us from my + mother's fortune; the interest of this my father was to receive during + our absence. This consideration did not present itself to him + directly, nor did it stand in the way of his doing his duty; it had, + however, a silent, and to himself imperceptible, influence, and at + times slackened his zeal, which, unacted upon by this, would have been + carried much farther. This, I think, was the reason, that, having + traced me as far as Annecy, he did not follow me to Chamberi, where he + was morally certain of overtaking me. This will also explain why, in + visiting him many times after my flight, I received from him on every + occasion a father's kindness, though unaccompanied by any very + pressing efforts to retain me. + +Rousseau's filial regard for his father was peculiar. It did not lead +him to hide, it only led him to account for, his father's sordidness. +The son generalized and inferred a moral maxim for the conduct of life +from this behavior of the father's--a maxim, which, as he thought, had +done him great good. He says: + + This conduct on the part of a father of whose affection and virtue I + have had so many proofs, has given rise within me to reflections on my + own character which have not a little contributed to maintain my heart + uncorrupted. I have derived therefrom this great maxim of morality, + perhaps the only one of any use in practice; namely, to avoid such + situations as put our duty in antagonism with our interest, or + disclose our own advantage in the misfortunes of another, certain that + in such circumstances, however sincere the love of virtue we bring + with us, it will sooner or later, and whether we perceive it or not, + become weakened, and we shall come to be unjust and culpable in our + acts without having ceased to be upright and blameless in our + intentions. + +The fruitful maxim thus deduced by Rousseau, he thinks he tried +faithfully to put in practice. With apparent perfect assurance +concerning himself, he says: + + I have sincerely desired to do what was right. I have, with all the + energy of my character, shunned situations which set my interest in + opposition to the interest of another, thus inspiring me with a secret + though involuntary desire prejudicial to that man. + +Jean Jacques at Turin made speed to convert himself, by the abjurations +required, into a pretty good Catholic. He was hereon free to seek his +fortune in the Sardinian capital. This he did by getting successively +various situations in service. In one of these he stole, so he tells us, +a piece of ribbon, which was soon found in his possession. He said a +maid-servant, naming her, gave it to him. The two were confronted with +each other. In spite of the poor girl's solemn appeal, Jean Jacques +persisted in his lie against her. Both servants were discharged. The +autobiographer protests that he has suffered much remorse for this lie +of his to the harm of the innocent maid. He expresses confident hope +that his suffering sorrow, already experienced on his behalf, will stand +him in stead of punishment that might be his due in a future state. +Remorse is a note in Rousseau that distinguishes him from Montaigne. +Montaigne reviews his own life to live over his sins, not to repent of +them. + +The end of several vicissitudes is, that young Rousseau gets back to +Madame de Warens. She welcomes him kindly. He says: + + From the first day, the most affectionate familiarity sprang up + between us, and that to the same degree in which it continued during + all the rest of her life. _Petit_--Child--was my name, + _Maman_--Mamma--hers; and _Petit_ and _Maman_ we remained, even when + the course of time had all but effaced the difference of our ages. + These two names seem to me marvelously well to express our tone toward + each other, the simplicity of our manners, and, more than all, the + relation of our hearts. She was to me the tenderest of mothers, never + seeking her own pleasure, but ever my welfare; and if the senses had + anything to do with my attachment for her, it was not to change its + nature, but only to render it more exquisite, and intoxicate me with + the charm of having a young and pretty mamma whom it was delightful + for me to caress. I say quite literally, to caress; for it never + entered into her head to deny me the tenderest maternal kisses and + endearments, nor into my heart to abuse them. Some may say that, in + the end, quite other relations subsisted between us. I grant it; but + have patience--I cannot tell everything at once. + +With Madame de Warens, Rousseau's relations, as is intimated above, +became licentious. This continued until, after an interval of years +(nine years, with breaks), in a fit of jealousy he forsook her. +Rousseau's whole life was a series of self-indulgences, groveling, +sometimes, beyond what is conceivable to any one not learning of it all +in detail from the man's own pen. The reader is fain at last to seek the +only relief possible from the sickening story, by flying to the +conclusion that Jean Jacques Rousseau, with all his genius, was wanting +in that mental sanity which is a condition of complete moral +responsibility. + +We shall, of course, not follow the "Confessions" through their +disgusting recitals of sin and shame. We should do wrong, however, to +the literary, and even to the moral, character of the work, were we not +to point out that there are frequent oases of sweetness and beauty set +in the wastes of incredible foulness which overspread so widely the +pages of Rousseau's "Confessions." Here, for example, is an idyll of +vagabondage that might almost make one willing to play tramp one's self, +if one by so doing might have such an experience: + + I remember, particularly, having passed a delicious night without the + city on a road that skirted the Rhone or the Saône, for I cannot + remember which. On the other side were terraced gardens. It had been a + very warm day; the evening was charming; the dew moistened the faded + grass; a calm night, without a breeze; the air was cool without being + cold; the sun in setting had left crimson vapors in the sky, which + tinged the water with its roseate hue, while the trees along the + terrace were filled with nightingales gushing out melodious answers to + each other's song. I walked along in a species of ecstasy, giving up + heart and senses to the enjoyment of the scene, only slightly sighing + with regret at enjoying it alone. Absorbed in my sweet reverie, I + prolonged my walk far into the night, without perceiving that I was + wearied out. At length I discovered it. I lay voluptuously down on the + tablet of a sort of niche or false door sunk in the terrace wall. The + canopy of my couch was formed by the over-arching boughs of the trees; + a nightingale sat exactly above me; its song lulled me to sleep; my + slumber was sweet, and my awaking still more so. It was broad day; my + eyes, on opening, fell on the water, the verdure, and the admirable + landscape spread out before me. I arose and shook off dull sleep; and, + growing hungry, I gayly directed my steps toward the city, bent on + transforming two _pieces de six blancs_, that I had left, into a good + breakfast. I was so cheerful that I went singing along the whole way. + +This happy-go-lucky, vagabond, grown-up child, this sentimentalist of +genius, had now and then different experiences--experiences to which the +reflection of the man grown old attributes important influence on the +formation of his most controlling beliefs: + + One day, among others, having purposely turned aside to get a closer + view of a spot that appeared worthy of all admiration, I grew so + delighted with it, and wandered round it so often, that I at length + lost myself completely. After several hours of useless walking, weary + and faint with hunger and thirst, I entered a peasant's hut which did + not present a very promising appearance, but it was the only one I saw + around. I conceived it to be here as at Geneva and throughout + Switzerland, where all the inhabitants in easy circumstances are in + the situation to exercise hospitality. I entreated the man to get me + some dinner, offering to pay for it. He presented me with some skimmed + milk and coarse barley bread, observing that that was all he had. I + drank the milk with delight, and ate the bread, chaff and all; but + this was not very restorative to a man exhausted with fatigue. The + peasant, who was watching me narrowly, judged of the truth of my story + by the sincerity of my appetite. All of a sudden, after having said + that he saw perfectly well that I was a good and true young fellow + that did not come to betray him, he opened a little trap-door by the + side of his kitchen, went down and returned a moment afterward with a + good brown loaf of pure wheat, the remains of a toothsome ham, and a + bottle of wine, the sight of which rejoiced my heart more than all the + rest. To these he added a good thick omelette, and I made such a + dinner as none but a walker ever enjoyed. When it came to pay, lo! his + disquietude and fears again seized him; he would none of my money, and + rejected it with extraordinary manifestations of disquiet. The + funniest part of the matter was, that I could not conceive what he was + afraid of. At length, with fear and trembling, he pronounced those + terrible words, _Commissioners_ and _Cellar-rats_. He gave me to + understand that he concealed his wine because of the excise, and his + bread on account of the tax, and that he was a lost man if they got + the slightest inkling that he was not dying of hunger. Everything he + said to me touching this matter, whereof, indeed, I had not the + slightest idea, produced an impression on me that can never be + effaced. It became the germ of that inextinguishable hatred that + afterward sprang up in my heart against the vexations to which these + poor people are subject, and against their oppressors. This man, + though in easy circumstances, dared not eat the bread he had gained by + the sweat of his brow, and could escape ruin only by presenting the + appearance of the same misery that reigned around him. + +A hideously false world, that world of French society was, in Rousseau's +time. The falseness was full ripe to be laid bare by some one; and +Rousseau's experience of life, as well as his temperament and his +genius, fitted him to do the work of exposure that he did. What one +emphatically calls character was sadly wanting in Rousseau--how sadly, +witness such an acted piece of mad folly as the following: + + I, without knowing aught of the matter, ... gave myself out for a + [musical] composer. Nor was this all: having been presented to M. de + Freytorens, law professor, who loved music, and gave concerts at his + house, nothing would do but I must give him a sample of my talent; so + I set about composing a piece for his concert quite as boldly as + though I had really been an adept in the science. I had the constancy + to work for fifteen days on this fine affair, to copy it fair, write + out the different parts, and distribute them with as much assurance as + though it had been a masterpiece of harmony. Then, what will scarcely + be believed, but which yet is gospel truth, worthily to crown this + sublime production I tacked to the end thereof a pretty minuet which + was then having a run on the streets.... I gave it as my own just as + resolutely as though I had been speaking to inhabitants of the moon. + + They assembled to perform my piece. I explain to each the nature of + the movement, the style of execution, and the relations of the + parts--I was very full of business. For five or six minutes they were + tuning; to me each minute seemed an age. At length, all being ready, I + rap with a handsome paper _bâton_ on the leader's desk the five or six + beats of the "_Make ready_." Silence is made--I gravely set to beating + time--they commence! No, never since French operas began, was there + such a _charivari_ heard. Whatever they might have thought of my + pretended talent, the effect was worse than they could possibly have + imagined. The musicians choked with laughter; the auditors opened + their eyes and would fain have closed their ears. But that was an + impossibility. My tormenting set of symphonists, who seemed rather to + enjoy the fun, scraped away with a din sufficient to crack the + tympanum of one born deaf. I had the firmness to go right ahead, + however, sweating, it is true, at every pore, but held back by shame; + not daring to retreat, and glued to the spot. For my consolation I + heard the company whispering to each other, quite loud enough for it + to reach my ear: "It is not bearable!" said one. "What music gone + mad!" cried another. "What a devilish din!" added a third. Poor Jean + Jacques, little dreamedst thou, in that cruel moment, that one day + before the king of France and all the court, thy sounds would excite + murmurs of surprise and applause, and that in all the boxes around + thee the loveliest ladies would burst forth with, "What charming + sounds! what enchanting music! every strain reaches the heart!" + + But what restored every one to good humor was the minuet. Scarcely had + they played a few measures than I heard bursts of laughter break out + on all hands. Every one congratulated me on my fine musical taste; + they assured me that this minuet would make me spoken about, and that + I merited the louded praises. I need not attempt depicting my agony, + nor own that I well deserved it. + +Readers have now had an opportunity to judge for themselves, by +specimen, of the style, both of the writer and of the man Jean Jacques +Rousseau. The writer's style they must have felt even through the medium +of imperfect anonymous translation, to be a charming one. If they have +felt the style of the man to be contrasted, as squalor is contrasted +with splendor, that they must not suppose to be a contrast of which Jean +Jacques himself, the confessor, was in the least displacently conscious. +Far from it. In the latter part of his "Confessions," a part that deals +with the author as one already now acknowledged a power in the world of +letters, though with all his chief works still to write, Rousseau speaks +thus of himself (he was considering at the time the ways and means +available to him of obtaining a livelihood): + + I felt that writing for bread would soon have extinguished my genius, + and destroyed my talents, which were less in my pen than in my heart, + and solely proceeded from an elevated and noble manner of thinking.... + It is too difficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood. + +Is not that finely said? And one need not doubt that it was said with +perfect sincerity. For our own part, paradoxical though it be to declare +it, we are wholly willing to insist that Rousseau did think on a lofty +plane. The trouble with him was, not that he thus thought with his +heart, rather than with his head--which, however, he did--but that he +thought with his heart alone, and not at all with his conscience and his +will. In a word, his thought was sentiment rather than thought. He was a +sentimentalist instead of a thinker. One illustration of the divorce +that he decreed for himself, or rather--for we have used too positive a +form of expression--that he allowed to subsist, between sentiment and +conduct, will suffice. It was presently to be his fortune, as author of +a tract on education (the "Emile"), to change the habit of a nation in +the matter of the nurture for babes. French mothers of the higher social +class in Rousseau's time almost universally gave up their infants to be +nursed at alien bosoms. Rousseau so eloquently denounced the +unnaturalness of this, that from his time it became the fashion for +French mothers to suckle their children themselves. Meantime, the +preacher himself of this beautiful humanity, living in unwedded union +with a woman (not Madame de Warens, but a woman of the laboring class, +found after Madame de Warens was abandoned), sent his illegitimate +children, against the mother's remonstrance, one after another, to the +number of five, to be brought up unknown at the hospital for foundlings! +He tells the story himself in his "Confessions." This course on his own +part he subsequently laments with many tears and many self-upbraidings. +But these, alas, he intermingles with self-justifications, nearly as +many--so that at last it is hard to say whether the balance of his +judgment inclines for or against himself in the matter. A paradox of +inconsistencies and self-contradictions, this man--a problem in human +character, of which the supposition of partial insanity in him, long +working subtly in the blood, seems the only solution. The occupation +finally adopted by Rousseau for obtaining subsistence was the copying of +music. It extorts from one a measure of involuntary respect for +Rousseau, to see patiently toiling at this slavish work, to earn its +owner bread, the same pen which had lately set all Europe in ferment +with the "Emile" and "The Social Contract." + +From Rousseau's "Confessions," we have not room to purvey further. It is +a melancholy book--written under monomaniac suspicion on the part of the +author that he was the object of a wide-spread conspiracy against his +reputation, his peace of mind, and even his life. The poor, shattered, +self-consumed sensualist and sentimentalist paid dear in the agonies of +his closing years for the indulgences of an unregulated life. The +tender-hearted, really affectionate, and loyal friend came at length to +live in a world of his own imagination, full of treachery to himself. +David Hume, the Scotchman, tried to befriend him; but the monomaniac was +incapable of being befriended. Nothing could be more pitiful than were +the decline and the extinction that occurred of so much brilliant +genius, and so much lovable character. It is even doubtful whether +Rousseau did not at last take his own life. The voice of accusation is +silenced in the presence of an earthly retribution so dreadful. One may +not indeed approve, but one may at least be free to pity, more than he +blames, in judging Rousseau. + +Accompanying, and in some sort complementing the "Confessions," are +often published several detached pieces called "Reveries," or "Walks." +These are very peculiar compositions, and very characteristic of the +author. They are dreamy meditations or reveries, sad, even somber, in +spirit, but "beautiful exceedingly," in form of expression. Such works +as the "René" of Chateaubriand, works but too abundant since in French +literature, must all trace their pedigree to Rousseau's "Walks." + +This author's books in general are now little read. They worked their +work and ceased. But there are in some of them passages that continue to +live. Of these, perhaps quite the most famous is the "Savoyard Curate's +Confession of Faith," a document of some length, incorporated into the +"Émile." This, taken as a whole, is the most seductively eloquent +argument against Christianity that perhaps ever was written. It +contains, however, concessions to the sublime elevation of Scripture and +to the unique virtue and majesty of Jesus, which are often quoted, and +which will bear quoting here. The Savoyard Curate is represented +speaking to a young friend as follows:-- + + I will confess to you further, 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 Scripture! 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 manners! What an + affecting gracefulness in his delivery! What sublimity in his maxims! + What profound wisdom in his discourses! What presence of mind, what + subtilty, what truth, in his replies! How great the command over his + passions! Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could so live + and die, without weakness and without ostentation? When Plato + described his imaginary good man loaded with all the shame of guilt, + yet meriting the highest reward of virtue, he described 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 + Sophroniscus 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 practice; he had only to say what they had done, + and reduce their examples to precepts. Aristides had been _just_ + before Socrates defined justice; Leonidas gave 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 compatriots, that pure and sublime + morality of which he only has given us both precept and example? The + greatest wisdom was made known amidst the most bigoted fanaticism, and + the simplicity of the most heroic virtues did honor to the vilest + people on the 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, cursed by a whole nation, is the most horrible that could be + feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of poison, blessed indeed the + weeping executioner who administered it; but Jesus, in the midst of + excruciating tortures, prayed for his merciless tormentors. Yes, if + the life and death of Socrates are 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 removing 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. + +So far in eloquent ascription of incomparable excellence to the Bible +and to the Founder of Christianity. But then immediately Rousseau's +Curate proceeds:-- + + And yet, with all this, the same Gospel abounds with incredible + relations, with circumstances repugnant to reason, and which it is + impossible for a man of sense either to conceive or admit. + +The compliment to Christianity almost convinces you--until suddenly you +are apprised that the author of the compliment was not convinced +himself! + +Jean Jacques Rousseau, in the preface to his "Confessions," appealed +from the judgment of men to the judgment of God. This judgment it was +his habit, to the end of his days, thanks to the effect of his early +Genevan education, always to think of as certainly impending. Let us +adjourn our final sentence upon him until we hear that Omniscient award. + + +In pendant to what we have said and have shown of Rousseau, some notice +may here properly be given of another celebrated writer, or writer +perhaps we should say of a celebrated book, who stands to Rousseau in +the relation of sequel and echo. We mean ST. PIERRE, the author of "Paul +and Virginia." + +This is a very famous little classic. It is a kind of prose idyll, a +pastoral of lowly and simple life, a life lived by the subjects of it in +the spirit of return to the conditions of nature, such as Jean Jacques +Rousseau idealized the conditions of nature to be. The author's own +personal experience furnished him the hint, the ground, and the +material, of his bucolic romance. It had happened to St. Pierre, in the +course of a somewhat fruitless and vagabond life, to be sent in an +official capacity to Mauritius, or the Isle of France. In this remote +island, as in a kind of Utopia, the scene of the story of "Paul and +Virginia" is laid. + +St. Pierre was already thirty-one years old when he took his distant +voyage; he stayed three years in Mauritius, and then he waited sixteen +years, becoming therefore, fifty years old, before he made use of what +he had experienced in publishing his romance of "Paul and Virginia." He +had meantime seen a great deal of Rousseau during the latter's declining +years, and from him had learned that art of writing by virtue of which +he was destined to constitute the second of succession in a literary +line to be continued after him in Chateaubriand and Lamartine, in Madame +de Stael and George Sand. + +It is the historical importance thus attaching to St. Pierre's name, +even more perhaps than it is the merit and the fame of his books, or of +his book--for of his books other than "Paul and Virginia," we need not +trouble our readers with even the titles--that warrants us in listing +him, as we do, among the select "immortals" of French literature. St. +Pierre's distinguishing note was the supposed return to nature and to +natural unsophisticated sentiment accomplished in his writings. + +But the return, with him, was by no means completely satisfactory. There +was always something unreal in St. Pierre's passion for nature; and the +feeling with which he wrote seems, to us of to-day, to have been neither +very deep nor very sincere. Still, all was accepted and was highly +effective in its time; Europe was flooded with tears in reading "Paul +and Virginia," much as afterward it was flooded with tears in reading an +equally notable, but far less wholesome book, that prose masterpiece of +the youthful Goethe, "The Sorrows of Werther." The "Corinne" of Madame +de Stael afterward, later the "Jocelyn" of Lamartine, later again the +passionate earlier novels of George Sand, served to their respective +fresh generations of readers a somewhat similar office, that of +stimulating and of expressing the vague longing and aspiration of youth. + +The plot of "Paul and Virginia" is simplicity itself. Two young French +widows--widows we may euphemistically call the women both, though the +mother of Paul had never been married--meet, strangers to each other, in +Mauritius, and their children, Paul and Virginia respectively, grow up +from babyhood together, as if brother and sister, in a state of nature +such as never was anywhere in the world outside of a romance, until at +last, Virginia undertaking a vain voyage to France to bring round a rich +alienated aunt of her mother's, perishes by shipwreck on her return; in +prompt sequel of which calamity, all the remaining personages of the +tale, down to the very dog, naturally and sentimentally, one after +another, die. The story is represented as told to a traveler in the Isle +of France by a sympathetic old man who had been an eye-witness of all. + +Two extracts, one from the beginning, and one from the end, of the +romance, will sufficiently indicate its quality. + +Paul and Virginia being now about twelve years of age, Virginia goes, +accompanied by Paul, to restore to the master a runaway female slave to +whom he had been cruel, and to intercede with him on the sufferer's +behalf. She has accomplished her purpose, and the two have set out to +return. They lose their way. This is the state of the case at the point +at which our first extract begins, as follows: + + "God will have pity on us," replied Virginia; "he listens to the voice + of the little birds which ask him for food." She had scarcely uttered + these words when they heard the noise of water falling from a + neighboring rock. They hastened to it, and, after having quenched + their thirst at this spring clearer than crystal, they gathered and + ate a few cresses which grew on its banks. As they were looking around + them to find some more substantial nourishment, Virginia descried a + young palm-tree among the trees of the wood. The cabbage which is + found at the top of this tree, inclosed within its leaves, is an + excellent food; but although its stalk is not thicker than a man's leg + it was more than sixty feet high. The wood of this tree is indeed + composed only of a collection of filaments; but its internal bark is + so hard that it blunts the sharpest hatchets, and Paul had not even a + knife. He thought of setting fire to this palm-tree at its foot. + Another difficulty--he had no steel to strike fire with, and besides, + in this island so covered with rocks, I do not believe it would be + possible to find a single flint. Necessity inspires industry, and + often the most useful inventions have come from men reduced to + extremity. Paul resolved to light a fire after the manner of the + negroes. With the sharp end of a stone he made a small hole in the + branch of a tree that was very dry, which he placed under his feet; he + then with the edge of the stone made a point to another branch + equally dry, but of a different kind of wood. He next placed the piece + of pointed wood in the small hole of the branch which was under his + feet, and turning it rapidly round in his hands, as one turns a mill + to froth chocolate, he in a few moments perceived smoke and sparks + arise from the point of contact. He collected together dry herbs and + other branches of trees, and set fire to the foot of the palm-tree, + which soon afterward fell with a violent noise. The fire served him + also in stripping the cabbage of the long woody and prickly leaves + which enclosed it. Virginia and he ate a part of this cabbage raw, and + the rest cooked in the ashes, and they found them equally agreeable to + the taste.... After their meal ... an hour of walking brought them to + the banks of a large river, which barred their way.... The noise of + its waters terrified Virginia; she dared not try to ford it. Paul + accordingly took Virginia on his back, and passed thus laden over the + slippery rocks of the river, regardless of the turbulence of the + waters. "Fear not," said he to her; "I feel myself very strong with + you." ... When Paul had passed over, and was on the bank, he wished to + continue his journey laden with his sister, flattering himself that he + could ascend in that manner the mountain of the Three Peaks, which he + saw before him at the distance of half a league; but his strength soon + began to fail, and he was obliged to set her on the ground and to + throw himself down beside her.... Virginia plucked from an old tree, + which hung over the banks of the river, some long leaves of hart's + tongue which hung down from its trunk. She made of these a kind of + buskins with which she bound her feet, which the stones of the way had + caused to bleed, for in her hurry to do good she had forgotten to put + on her shoes. Feeling herself relieved by the freshness of the leaves + she broke off a branch of bamboo and began to walk, leaning with one + hand on the cane and with the other on her brother. + + In this manner they walked on slowly through the woods; but the height + of the trees and the thickness of their foliage made them soon lose + sight of the mountain of the Three Peaks, by which they had directed + themselves, and even of the sun, which was already setting. After some + time they quitted, without perceiving it, the beaten path which they + had till then followed, and found themselves in a labyrinth of trees, + shrubs, and rocks, which had no farther outlet. Paul made Virginia sit + down, and ran almost distracted in search of a path out of this thick + wood; but he wearied himself in vain. He climbed to the top of a lofty + tree, to discover at least the mountain of the Three Peaks, but he + could perceive nothing around him but tops of trees, some of which + were illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. Already the + shadow of the mountains covered the forests in the valleys; the wind + was going down, as is usual at sunset; a profound silence reigned in + these solitudes, and no noise was heard but the cry of the stags who + came to seek repose in these unfrequented recesses. Paul, in the hope + that some hunter might hear him, cried out as loud as he could: + "Come! Come! and help Virginia!" But only the echoes of the forest + answered to his voice and repeated several times successively: + "Virginia! Virginia!" + + Paul now descended from the tree, overcome with fatigue and + disappointment; ... he began to weep. Virginia said to him: "Do not + weep, my dear, unless you wish to overwhelm me with grief.... O! I + have been very imprudent." And she began to shed tears. Nevertheless, + she said to Paul, "Let us pray to God, my brother, and he will have + pity on us." Scarcely had they finished their prayer when they heard + the barking of a dog.... "I believe," said Virginia, "it is Fidèle, + our house-dog." + +Of course all turned out happily. A rescue party had come in search of +the estray, and they were soon brought with rejoicing home. + +Such as the foregoing passage will have served to show is the charm of +unfallen simplicity and innocence represented by St. Pierre to have been +cast, forming as if an Eden in the wilderness, about these happy +children of nature on whom society had had no chance to exercise its +baneful power. True, they suffered, though in Eden. True, others sinned, +as well as suffered, about them, for there was slavery and there was +cruelty; but that was in the wilderness outside; in Eden they did not +sin. It was all Rousseauism in experiment and reduced to absurdity. By +Rousseauism we indicate the doctrinal dream of that dreamer; by no means +the actual waking practice of the man that dreamed. + +It may seem a strange marring of the idea of a sufficiency in nature, +let nature but be unhindered by society, to renew the world in the +purity of paradise, that the end of the idyll of Paul and Virginia +should have come about through an effort on the part of Virginia's +mother, made quite in the spirit of the present artificial order of +things, to secure a bequest from an aunt of hers in France, whom the +niece had offended by marrying as she did; but so it was. Virginia +undertakes the necessary voyage, and, as we have already said, perishes +by shipwreck on the coast of Mauritius in returning. The heart-rending +agony of the final catastrophe we have no space to exhibit. The author +seems to hint that Virginia might have been saved, could she have +brought herself to assent to the desire of an entreating honest +stalwart seaman that she should disembarrass her person of her clothes. +It is almost the step taken from the sublime to the ridiculous for the +author to make his heroine perish thus as a martyr to her own invincible +modesty. + +The bereaved mother has visions of her departed daughter's accomplished +felicity in the world unseen. These she describes to the neighbor, who, +a venerable old man, tells the traveler the tale. Now for the final +extract from the text of the book: + + "O my worthy neighbor!" said she [Paul's mother] to me [the old man + who tells the whole story]: "I thought last night I beheld Virginia + clothed in white, in the midst of groves and delicious gardens. She + said to me: 'I enjoy the most desirable happiness.' Then she + approached Paul with a smiling air and bore him away with her. As I + endeavored to retain my son I felt that I myself was quitting the + earth, and that I was following him with inexpressible pleasure. I + then wished to bid my friend farewell, when I perceived her following + us with Mary and Domingo. [These are negro slaves of the two mothers.] + But what seems still more strange is, that Madame de la Tour + [Virginia's mother] had the same night a dream attended with similar + circumstances." + + I replied to her, "My friend, I believe that nothing happens in the + world without the permission of God. Dreams do sometimes foretell the + truth." + + Madame de la Tour related to me that the same night she had also had a + dream entirely similar. I had never observed in these two ladies the + least propensity to superstition; I was therefore struck with the + resemblance of their dreams, and I had no doubt but that they would be + soon realized. This opinion, that truth sometimes presents itself to + us during our sleep, is generally spread among all the nations of the + earth. The most illustrious men of antiquity have entertained it, + amongst others, Alexander, Cæsar, the Scipios, the two Catos, and + Brutus, who were by no means inclined to superstition. The Old and the + New Testament supply us with a variety of examples of dreams that have + been realized.... + + But whether this opinion concerning dreams be true or not, those of my + unfortunate friends were speedily realized. Paul died two months after + the death of his dear Virginia, whose name he incessantly pronounced. + Margaret [Paul's mother] beheld her end approach a week after that of + her son with a joy which virtue only can feel. She bade Madame de la + Tour the most tender farewell, "in the hope," she said, "of a sweet + and eternal reunion. Death is the greatest of all blessings," added + she; "we ought to desire it. If life be a punishment we ought to wish + for its end; if it be a trial, we should wish it short." + + The governor took care of Domingo and Mary, who were no longer able to + labor, and who did not long survive their mistresses. As for poor + Fidèle, he pined away about the same time as he lost his master. + + I conducted Madame de la Tour to my house. She bore up under these + heavy afflictions with an incredible fortitude of mind. She had + comforted Paul and Margaret up to their last moments, as if she had + only their misfortune to support. When she no longer beheld them, she + spoke of them every day as of beloved friends who were in the + neighborhood. She survived them, however, but a month.... + + The body of Paul was placed by the side of Virginia, at the foot of + the same bamboos; and near the same spot the remains of their tender + mothers and their faithful servants were laid. No marble was raised + over their humble turf, no inscription engraved to celebrate their + virtues; but their memory remains indelible in the hearts of those + whom they have assisted. + +If we have treated somewhat lightly this romance of sentimentalism and +of naturalism it is because of the taint of ungenuineness--that is, of +unreality more or less conscious on the author's part--that we seem to +ourselves to discover in its pages. But the masterpiece of Bernardin de +St. Pierre is after all a serious literary fact. For instance, if "Paul +and Virginia" had never been written it is doubtful if we should ever +have had that series of romantico-realistic little pieces of fiction +from the pen of George Sand, out of one of which we shall presently +exemplify this woman of genius to our readers. A production in +literature is to be judged not only by its own inherent quality, but +also, perhaps not less by its entail of influence. + +"Paul and Virginia," in becoming a school-book for the learning of +French, may be said to have bought increase of celebrity at the price of +some diminution in fame. In our own opinion, however, which, after all +that we have said, hardly needs to be thus expressly stated, the book +still remains quite as famous as its intrinsic merits entitle it to be. +Its chief security of renown in the future lies, and will continue more +and more to lie, in the striking fact of its renown in the past. + +We formally part with Rousseau and with his first literary foster-child. +But we shall trace their features still, again and again, persisting in +authors to follow who could not escape a tell-tale impress, open to all +to see, stamped from that singularly fecund, and singularly potent, +literary paternity. + + + + +XVIII. + +THE ENCYCLOPÆDISTS. + + +A cenotaph is a monument erected to the memory of one dead, but not +marking the spot in which his remains rest. The present chapter is a +cenotaph to the French Encyclopædists. It is in the nature of a memorial +of their literary work, but it will be found to contain no specimen +extracts from their writings. + +Everybody has heard of the Encyclopædists of France. Who are they? They +are a group of men who, during the eighteenth century, associated +themselves together for the production of a great work to be the +repository of all human knowledge,--in one word, of an encyclopædia. The +project was a laudable one; and the motive to it was laudable--in part. +For there was mixture of motive in the case. In part, the motive was +simple desire to advance the cause of human enlightenment; in part, +however, the motive was desire to undermine Christianity. This latter +end the encyclopædist collaborators may have thought to be an +indispensable means subsidiary to the former end. They probably did +think so--with such imperfect sincerity as is possible to those who set +themselves, consciously or unconsciously, against God. The fact is, that +the Encyclopædists came at length to be nearly as much occupied in +extinguishing Christianity as in promoting public enlightenment. They +went about this their task of destroying in a way as effective as has +ever been devised for accomplishing a similar work. They gave a vicious +turn of insinuation against Christianity to as many articles as +possible. In the most unexpected places, throughout the entire work, +pitfalls were laid of anti-Christian implication, awaiting the unwary +feet of the explorer of its pages. You were nowhere sure of your ground. +The world has never before seen, it has never seen since, an example of +propagandism altogether so adroit and so alert. It is not too much to +say further that history can supply few instances of propagandism so +successful. The Encyclopædists might almost be said to have given the +human mind a fresh start and a new orbit. The fresh start is, perhaps, +spent; the new orbit has at length, to a great extent, returned upon the +old; but it holds true, nevertheless, that the Encyclopædists of France +were for a time, and that not a short time, a prodigious force of +impulsion and direction to the Occidental mind. It ought to be added +that the aim of the Encyclopædists was political also, not less than +religious. In truth, religion and politics, Church and State, in their +day, and in France, were much the same thing. The "Encyclopædia" was as +revolutionary in politics as it was atheistic in religion. + +The leader in this movement of insurrectionary thought was Denis +DIDEROT. Diderot (1713-1784) was born to be an encyclopædist, and a +captain of encyclopædists. Force inexhaustible, and inexhaustible +willingness to give out force; unappeasable curiosity to know; +irresistible impulse to impart knowledge; versatile capacity to do every +thing, carried to the verge, if not carried beyond the verge, of +incapacity to do anything thoroughly well; quenchless zeal and +quenchless hope; levity enough of temper to keep its subject free from +those depressions of spirit and those cares of conscience which weigh +and wear on the overearnest man; abundant physical health--gifts such as +these made up the manifold equipment of Diderot for rowing and steering +the gigantic enterprise of the "Encyclopædia" triumphantly to the port +of final completion, through many and many a zone of stormy adverse wind +and sea, traversed on the way. Diderot produced no signal independent +and original work of his own; probably he could not have produced such a +work. On the other hand, it is simply just to say that hardly anybody +but Diderot could have achieved the "Encyclopædia." That, indeed, may +be considered an achievement not more to the glory than to the shame of +its author; but whatever its true moral character, in whatever +proportion shameful or glorious, it is inalienably and peculiarly +Diderot's achievement--at least in this sense, that without Diderot the +"Encyclopædia" would never have been achieved. + +We have already, in discussing Voltaire, adverted sufficiently to Mr. +John Morley's volumes in honor of Diderot and his compeers. Diderot is +therein ably presented in the best possible light to the reader; and we +are bound to say that, despite Mr. Morley's friendly endeavors, Diderot +therein appears very ill. He married a young woman whose simple and +touching self-sacrifice on her husband's behalf he presently requited by +giving himself away, body and soul, to a rival. In his writings he is so +easily insincere that not unfrequently it is a problem, even for his +biographer, to decide when he is expressing his sentiments truly and +when not, insomuch that, once and again, Mr. Morley himself is obliged +to say, "This is probably hypocritical on Diderot's part," or something +to that effect. As for filthy communication out of his mouth and from +his pen--not, of course, habitual, but occasional--the subject will not +bear more than this mention. These be thy gods, O Atheism! one, in +reading Mr. Morley on Diderot, is tempted again and again to exclaim. To +offset such lowness of character in the man it must in justice be added +that Diderot was, notwithstanding, of a generous, uncalculating turn of +mind, not grudging, especially in intellectual relations, to give of his +best to others, expecting nothing again. Diderot, too, as well as +Voltaire, had his royal or imperial friends, in the notorious Empress +Catherine of Russia, and in King Stanislaus of Poland. He visited +Catherine once in her capital, and was there munificently entertained by +her. She was regally pleased to humor this gentleman of France, +permitting him to bring down his fist in gesture violently on the +redoubtable royal knee, according to a pleasant way Diderot had of +emphasizing a point in familiar conversation. His truest claim to +praise for intellectual superiority is, perhaps, that he was a prolific +begetter of wit in other men. + +D'ALEMBERT (Jean le Rond, 1717-1783) was an eminent mathematician. He +wrote especially, though not at first exclusively, on mathematical +subjects for the "Encyclopædia." He was, indeed, at the outset, +published as mathematical editor of the work. His European reputation in +science made his name a tower of strength to the "Encyclopædia,"--even +after he ceased to be an editorial coadjutor in the enterprise. For +there came a time when D'Alembert abdicated responsibility as editor and +left the undertaking to fall heavily on the single shoulder, Atlantean +shoulder it proved to be, of Diderot. The celebrated "Preliminary +Discourse," prefixed to the "Encyclopædia," proceeded from the hand of +D'Alembert. This has always been esteemed a masterpiece of comprehensive +grasp and lucid exposition. A less creditable contribution of +D'Alembert's to the "Encyclopædia" was his article on "Geneva," in the +course of which, at the instance of Voltaire, who wanted a chance to +have his plays represented in that city, he went out of his way to +recommend to the Genevans that they establish for themselves a theater. +This brought out Rousseau in an eloquent harangue against the theater as +exerting influence to debauch public morals. D'Alembert, in the contest, +did not carry off the honors of the day. D'Alembert's "Éloges," so +called, a series of characterizations and appreciations written by the +author in his old age, of members of the French Academy, enjoy deserved +reputation for sagacious intellectual estimate, and for clear, though +not supremely elegant, style of composition. + +Diderot and D'Alembert are the only men whose names appear on the +title-page of the "Encyclopædia;" but Voltaire, Rousseau, Turgot, +Helvétius, Duclos, Condillac, Buffon, Grimm, Holbach, with many besides +whom we must not stay even to mention, contributed to the work. + +The influence of the "Encyclopædia," great during its day, is by no +means yet exhausted. But it is an influence indirectly exerted, for the +"Encyclopædia" itself has long been an obsolete work. + +There is a legal maxim that the laws are silent when a state of war +exists. Certainly, amid the madness of a revolution such as, during the +closing years of the eighteenth century, the influence of Voltaire, +Rousseau, and the Encyclopædists, with Beaumarchais, reacting against +the accumulated political and ecclesiastical oppressions of ages, +precipitated upon France, it might safely be assumed that letters would +be silent. But the nation meantime was portentously preparing material +for a literature which many wondering centuries to follow would occupy +themselves with writing. + + + + +XIX. + +MADAME DE STAEL. + +1766-1817. + + +In Madame de Stael we encounter a truly redoubtable figure in +literature. + +But Madame de Stael in her day seemed more than a writer, more even than +a writer of what the Germans would call world-importance; she was, or +she seemed, a prodigious living personal force. For her tongue was not +less formidable than her pen. In truth, the fame of Madame de Stael is +due to the twofold power which, during her life-time, she exercised, and +exercised in very uncertain proportions, first perhaps as a talker and +second as a writer. She is generally allowed, and that upon the most +incontestable authority, to have been one of the most brilliant and most +effective talkers in the history of the human race. + +This power in Madame de Stael of personal impression you are not free to +ascribe to any charm that she owned of physical beauty; for Madame de +Stael was not a beautiful woman. By her friend, Madame Récamier, that +charm was exercised to the full, and that charm Madame de Stael, did +not despise. So far from it, she is said once (thus at least the present +writer seems to remember, but he has been unable to verify his +impression) passionately to have exclaimed that she would give all her +genius for one evening of Madame Récamier's beauty. This was not the +vanity on her part of wish to be admired. It was the pathos of longing +to be loved. "Never, never," she cried out in anguish, "I shall never be +loved as I love." She was true woman after all; and it would be +inexpiable wrong against her not to say this also, and say it with +emphasis, however sharply we may be just in pronouncing the masculine +strength of her character. The contrast was so obvious between Madame de +Stael and Madame Récamier in point of mere personal charm that, in a +moment evil for him, a gentleman once seated between them permitted +himself the awkwardness of saying, in ill-advised intention of +compliment to both, but with most unhappy chief effect to the contrary, +alike on this side and on that, "How fortunate! I sit between Wit and +Beauty." "Yes, and without possessing either the one or the other," +retorted Wit, amply avenging herself for being reminded that she was not +also Beauty. Madame de Stael had certainly justified one half of the +gentleman's compliment; and Madame Récamier, with her serene ineffable +charm, did not need to speak in order to justify the other. + +It was, then, by the pure dry light of her intellect and her wit that +Madame de Stael dazzled so in conversation--dazzled so, and so +attracted. Wherever she was, there was the center. She made a _salon_ +anywhere, by simply being there. And Madame de Stael's _salon_ was felt +by the ruler of Europe to be a formidable political power implacably +hostile to himself. "Somehow," said Napoleon, "I observe that, whatever +is talked about at Madame de Stael's, those who go there come away +thinking less favorably of me." It seems to have been in part because +she said nothing, and would say nothing, of Napoleon in her "Germany," +that he finally suppressed that book. "You will speak ill of me when you +get back to your academy," said to Plato the tyrant of Syracuse. "In +the academy we shall not have time to speak of you at all," was the +philosopher's reply. + +Madame de Stael was singularly fortunate in heredity on both sides of +her parentage. Her father was an eminent banker and minister of finance, +who enjoyed the noblest and clearest renown as a man both of talent and +of character. Her mother was that beautiful and gifted daughter of a +Swiss pastor whom the historian Gibbon once thought he loved, but whom +he dutifully gave up at the will of his father. "I sighed as a lover and +obeyed as a son," Gibbon says in his "Autobiography." This was after +years had passed with him--"years that bring the philosophic mind!" The +obese but famous English historian, still a bachelor, was a frequent +guest at the house of M. Necker, where he had the opportunity gallantly +to admire the brilliant daughter of the woman who might have been his +wife. + +We have said enough to show that, with the exception of personal beauty, +Madame de Stael enjoyed every external advantage that could help to give +her a shining career. Her wealth was something more than a mere +accessory advantage; she needed it to sustain her in the waste of money +made necessary by her wanderings through Europe to escape the tyrannous +hand of Napoleon. Her exile was agony to her, for she loved France, and +she loved Paris with inextinguishable affection. It is impossible to +deny to the obstinacy that refused to burn even a pinch of incense to +the god of her nation's idolatry, for the sake of permission to return +to every thing that she loved--it is impossible, we say, to deny to this +obstinacy in Madame de Stael the title of a true and heroic virtue. + +How costly-brave was the attitude that Madame de Stael steadfastly kept +toward Napoleon, during the fifteen years of his unparalleled sway, may +be guessed from the account that she gives of the unnerving, the +prostrating effect upon her of the presence, the character, and the +genius of that extraordinary man. In her "Reflections on the French +Revolution" she has the following passage, almost equally striking +whether taken as a description or as a confession: + + Far from gaining re-assurance in meeting Buonaparte oftener, he + intimidated me daily more and more. I confusedly felt that no emotion + of the heart could possibly take effect upon him. He looks upon a + human being as a fact or as a thing, but not as a fellow-creature. He + does not hate any more than he loves; there is nothing for him but + himself; all other beings are so many ciphers. The force of his will + lies in the imperturbable calculation of his selfishness.... His + successes are as much to be credited to the qualities which he lacks + as to the talents which he possesses. Neither pity, nor attraction, + nor religion, nor attachment to any idea whatsoever, could make him + swerve from the main path he had chosen. Every time I heard him talk I + was struck with his superiority; this, however, had no resemblance to + the superiority of men trained and cultivated by study or by society, + a class of which England and France can offer examples. But his + courses of remark indicated a tact for seizing upon circumstances like + that which the hunter has for seizing upon his prey. Sometimes he + recounted the political and military incidents of his life in a manner + to interest greatly; he had even, in narrations that admitted gayety, + a trace of Italian imagination. Still, nothing could get the better of + my revulsion for what I perceived in him. I felt, in his soul, a + sword, cold and cutting, that froze while it wounded; I felt, in his + mind, a fundamental irony from which nothing great, nothing beautiful, + not his own glory even, could escape; for he despised the nation whose + suffrages he sought; and no single spark of enthusiasm mixed with his + wish to astonish mankind. + + It was during the interval between the return of Buonaparte (from + Italy), and his setting out for Egypt toward the end of 1787, that I + several times saw him in Paris; and never could I overcome the + difficulty which I experienced in breathing in his presence. I was one + day seated at table between him and the Abbé Sieyès; singular + situation, could I have foreseen the future! [Sieyès, two years later, + became one in a triumvirate of "consuls," of whom Napoleon was + another.] I scrutinized carefully the face of Napoleon; but every time + he detected my observing glances he had the art to rob his eyes of all + expression, as if they were changed to marble. His countenance was + then immobile, save a vague smile that he brought upon his lips at a + venture, in order to throw out any one who might wish to mark the + external signs of his thought. + +It was not a light thing, and Madame de Stael did not feel it a light +thing, to hold out as she did, never once dipping her colors, against +the will and the power of the man whom she thus describes. + +This passionate woman of genius, twice linked by marriage in a union +marked by violent and opposite disparities of age--for the second +husband was as much younger as the first was older than she--sought +satisfaction for her hungry desire of love in "relations," if not +ambiguous, at least apparently ambiguous, with men other than her +husbands. One of these men was Benjamin Constant, whose conversational +powers, exercised in partnership, never in rivalship, with Madame de +Stael, helped make the society in which they shone as twin stars +together, the admiration, the envy, the despair, of cultivated Europe. +Benjamin Constant, as Madame de Stael's companion of travel in Germany, +was no doubt part, though August Wilhelm Schlegel was part still +greater, of the vitalizing intellectual influence that helped her +produce her work on that country. Schlegel, by the way, had previously +accompanied Madame de Stael in that Italian tour and sojourn of hers, +the fruit of which was the novel, or the book of travels, or both in +one, entitled "Corinne." This book was the first of her books to give +its author a European fame. Besides being studied as a text-book in the +schools, "Corinne" is still read as a production important in literary +history. + +The "De l'Allemagne" (literally "Concerning Germany") is generally +esteemed the masterpiece of its author. From this we draw our +illustrations by specimen of the literary quality of Madame de Stael. +The "Germany" may be said to have first introduced that country to +France, almost to Europe in general. Its scope is comprehensive. It +describes Germany in a great variety of aspects; but it is on the +literature of Germany that it expends its strength. + +Madame de Stael's "Preface" to her "Germany," written in England, where, +after its arbitrary suppression in France, the volume was finally +published, is an interesting bit of reading. Witness one or two +extracts: + + My bookseller took upon himself the responsibility of the publication + of my book, after submitting it to the censors.... + + At the moment when the work was about to appear, and when the 10,000 + copies of the first edition had been actually printed off, the + minister of the police, known under the name of General Savary, sent + his officers to the bookseller's, with orders to tear the whole + edition in pieces, and to place sentinels at the different entrances + to the warehouse, for fear a single copy of this dangerous writing + should escape. + +What a glimpse is there incidentally afforded of the intolerable +despotism of Napoleon! + +Madame de Stael thinks silently of her lovely and beloved friend Madame +Récamier, who had suffered from Napoleon by her relation with the exiled +woman of letters, when still in her preface she writes: + + Some of my friends were banished, because they had had the generosity + to come and see me; this was too much: to carry with us the contagion + of misfortune, not to dare to associate with those we love, to be + afraid to write to them, or pronounce their names, to be the object by + turns, either of affectionate attentions which make us tremble for + those who show them, or of those refinements of baseness which terror + inspires, is a situation from which every one, who still values life, + would withdraw! + +We advance into the body of the work. + +The German Lessing had himself found in his literary countrymen the same +fault that Madame de Stael, near the beginning of her book, points out +as follows: + + In literature, as in politics, the Germans have too much respect for + foreigners, and not enough of national prejudices. In individuals it + is a virtue, this denial of self, and this esteem of others; but the + patriotism of nations ought to be selfish. + +Bismarck and Moltke in politics and in war, Herman Grimm, for example, +in literature, with his appalling claim for Goethe's "Faust," as the +"greatest work of the greatest poet of all nations and times," have +lately "changed all that." The fault of Germany now is not over-modesty. + +The boundless freedom, nay, audacity, of speculative thought indulged by +the Germans is stimulantly contrasted with their strangely contented +subserviency (which then was) in more material matters. The sentence we +italicize below was canceled by Napoleon's censors, before their master +took the shorter method of canceling the book: + + The enlightened men of Germany dispute vehemently among themselves the + dominion of speculations, and will suffer no shackles in this + department; but they give up, without difficulty, all that is real in + life to the powerful of the earth. _This real in life, so disdained by + them, finds, however, those who make themselves possessors of it, and + these, in the end, carry trouble and constraint even into the empire + of the imagination._ + +The following passage concerning Voltaire and a particular production of +his pen is one of the most trenchantly critical expressions that the +reader would find in the whole course of the "Germany." The German name +of Leibnitz occurring in it will suggest the association of contrast by +which such a criticism of a Frenchman found its way into a book treating +of things German. Leibnitz had propounded a metaphysical theory of +universal optimism, which--like all philosophic hypotheses, even those +apparently least practical, let them once become widely entertained--was +having its influence on national thought and national character. With +Voltaire's "Candide" the readers of this volume will already have +acquired sufficient acquaintance to make Madame de Stael's remarks upon +it here presented additionally interesting: + + Voltaire so well perceived the influence that metaphysics exercise + over the general bias of men's minds that to combat Leibnitz he wrote + _Candide_. He took up a curious whim against final causes, optimism, + free will, in short, against all the philosophical opinions that exalt + the dignity of man; and he composed _Candide_, that work of a + diabolical gayety, for it appears to be written by a being of a + different nature from ourselves, insensible to our condition, well + pleased with our sufferings, and laughing like a demon or an ape at + the miseries of that human species with which he has nothing in + common.... + + _Candide_ brings into action that scoffing philosophy, so indulgent in + appearance, in reality so ferocious; it presents human nature under + the most lamentable point of view, and offers us, in the room of every + consolation, the sardonic grin which frees us from all compassion for + others by making us renounce it for ourselves. + +When Madame de Stael comes in due course to speak of the masterpiece of +Goethe, his "Faust," she prepares her French readers to be shocked with +a first disappointment. She says: + + Certainly we must not expect to find in it either taste, or measure, + or the art that selects and terminates, but if the imagination could + figure to itself an intellectual chaos, such as the material chaos has + often been described, the _Faust_ of Goethe should in propriety have + been composed at that epoch.... The drama of _Faust_ certainly is not + a good model. Whether it be considered as an offspring of the delirium + of the mind, or of the satiety of reason, it is to be wished that such + productions may not be multiplied; but when such a genius as that of + Goethe sets itself free from all restrictions the crowd of thoughts is + so great that on every side they break through and trample down the + barriers of art. + +We close our series of extracts by giving what this most brilliant among +the French women that have been at the same time great talkers and great +writers found to say of that high art of conversation in which her +countrymen surpass the world and in which she surpassed her countrymen: + + The _bon-mots_ of the French have been quoted from one end of Europe + to the other. Always they have displayed the brilliancy of their merit + and solaced their griefs in a lively and agreeable manner; always they + have stood in need of one another, as listeners taking turns in mutual + encouragement; always they have excelled in the art of knowing under + what circumstances to speak, and even under what circumstances to keep + still, when any commanding interest triumphs over their natural + liveliness; always they have possessed the talent of living a quick + life, of cutting short long discourses, of giving way to their + successors who are desirous of speaking in their turn; always, in + short, they have known how to take from thought and feeling no more + than is necessary to animate conversation without overstaking the + feeble interest which men generally feel for one another. + + The French are in the habit of treating their own misfortunes lightly + from the fear of fatiguing their friends; they guess the weariness + which they would occasion by that which they would experience.... The + desire of appearing amiable induces men to assume an expression of + gayety, whatever may be the inward disposition of the soul; the + physiognomy by degrees influences the feelings, and that which we do + for the purpose of pleasing others soon takes off the edge of our own + individual sufferings. + + _A sensible woman has said that Paris is, of all the world, the place + where men can most easily dispense with being happy._ [The foregoing + italicized passage was, Madame de Stael says, "suppressed by the + literary censorship under the pretext that there was so much happiness + in Paris now that there was no need of doing without it."] ... But + nothing can metamorphose a city of Germany into Paris. + + ... To succeed in conversation one must be able clearly to observe the + impression produced at each moment on people, that which they wish to + conceal, that which they seek to exaggerate, the inward satisfaction + of some, the forced smile of others; one may see passing over the + countenances of those who listen half formed censures which may be + evaded by hastening to dissipate them before self-love is engaged on + their side. One may also behold there the first birth of approbation, + which may be strengthened without, however, exacting from it more + than it is willing to bestow. There is no arena in which vanity + displays itself in such a variety of forms as in conversation. + + I once knew a man who was agitated by praise to such a degree that + whenever it was bestowed upon him he exaggerated what he had just said + and took such pains to add to his success that he always ended in + losing it. I never dared to applaud him from the fear of leading him + to affectation and of his making himself ridiculous by the heartiness + of his self-love. Another was so afraid of the appearance of wishing + to display himself that he let fall words negligently and + contemptuously; his assumed indolence only betrayed one more + affectation, that of pretending to have none. When vanity displays + herself, she is good-natured; when she hides herself, the fear of + being discovered renders her sour, and she affects indifference, + satiety, in short, whatever may persuade other men that she has no + need of them. These different combinations are amusing for the + observers, and one is always astonished that self-love does not take + the course, which is so simple, of naturally avowing its desire to + please, and making the utmost possible use of grace and truth to + attain the object. + +There is something in the foregoing strain of ascription from Madame de +Stael to the social virtues of the French which recalls that remarkable +character given by Pericles, in his noble funeral oration reported by +Thucydides, to the national spirit and habit of the Athenians in +contrast with those of their Spartan neighbors and enemies. + +If of Madame de Stael the woman we shall in any respect have failed to +give a just idea, it will be by not having adequately represented the +generosity of her character. Her desire and her ability to shine should +not be permitted, in any one's conception of her, to obscure her +fondness and her fitness for loving and for being loved. Those who knew +her intimately bear touching testimony to this quality of womanliness in +the personal character of Madame de Stael. She was fundamentally an +amiable, as she was conspicuously a strenuous, spirit, and no mutations +in fashion or in taste will ever reduce her to less than a great +tradition in literature. + + + + +XX. + +CHATEAUBRIAND. + +1768-1848. + + +Chateaubriand--his is a faded fame. He was a false brilliant from the +first, but he glittered during his time like a veritable Mountain of +Light. Men hardly found out till he died that instead of being precious +stone he was nothing but paste. + +Our figure misrepresents the fact. Chateaubriand was _not_ thus spurious +through and through. He had streaks of genuine in him. His true symbol +perhaps would be a common rubble-stone flawed splendidly with diamond. + +The reaction of disparagement, which is now the critical vogue as to +Chateaubriand's personal and literary value, meets occasional stout +challenge from redoubtable voices. Mr. Matthew Arnold, for instance, +protests against it, triumphantly citing out of the author for whom he +stands up what certainly would read like the utterance of a mind both +large and noble, could one rid one's self of the feeling that +Chateaubriand in writing it had his own case chiefly in view, as +follows: + + It is a dangerous mistake, sanctioned, like so many other dangerous + mistakes, by Voltaire, to suppose that the best works of imagination + are those which draw the most tears.... The true tears are those which + are called forth by the beauty of poetry; there must be as much + admiration in them as sorrow. + +The author of the foregoing, assuredly, excites with his pathos quite as +much admiration as sorrow. + +Chateaubriand forms an essential link in the chain of literary history +for France. He constitutes almost the sole representative of French +literature for the period of the First Empire, so-called--that is, the +time of the supreme ascendency of Napoleon Bonaparte. Madame de Stael +alone needs to be named as his rival and peer. Chateaubriand, in his +day--and his day was a long one, for he outlived the empire, the +restoration, and the reign of Louis Philippe--was well-nigh an equal +power with Napoleon himself. In his own opinion, he was fully such; for +his self-complacency was unbounded. + +Never in the history of letters did it twice happen to an author to be +better served by opportunity than in two cases was Chateaubriand. The +Encyclopædists, with Voltaire and Rousseau, had had their hour, and a +reaction had set in, when Chateaubriand's "Genius of Christianity" +appeared. It was the exact moment for such a book. It seemed to create +the reactionary movement with which it coincided, and it rendered its +author not merely famous, but powerful. Napoleon saw his account in +making use of a writer who had the secret of such popularity. Besides, +the Napoleonic sagacity was equal to perceiving that return to religious +belief was needful for France. Napoleon made overtures to Chateaubriand, +which Chateaubriand accepted. The author took office at the gift of the +dictator. + +But Chateaubriand was himself too supremely an egotist to be securely +attached to another egotist's interest by any flattery that could be +bestowed upon him. When, at the word of Napoleon, the Duke d'Enghien was +murdered, Chateaubriand--let him have the credit of his high +spirit--resigned his office and separated himself from the tyrant who +had conferred it. Chateaubriand's first happy synchronism with the +course of events was his publishing the "Genius of Christianity" when he +did. His second was his publishing the pamphlet "Bonaparte and the +Bourbons" at the very moment when that restoration impended which raised +Louis XVIII. to the throne of France. The new monarch acknowledged that +Chateaubriand's book had been worth an army to his cause. + +Chateaubriand prolonged his literary career to a great age, enjoying +almost to the end an undisputed supremacy among the authors of France. +There has seldom been a more uncloudedly, more dazzlingly, brilliant +contemporary success achieved by any writer of any age or any nation. +The renown continues, but the splendor of the renown has passed away. +Why? Our answer is, Chateaubriand's writing is vitiated by a vein of +unreality, of falseness, running through it. This character in his +writing but reflected, we fear, a character in the writer. There is +ground for suspecting that Chateaubriand was at heart lacking in +genuineness. It was inseparable defect in the man that gave that hollow +ring to the words. It is but a just reprisal upon Chateaubriand that his +literary fame should suffer by the fault detected in his personal +character. A man's words are seldom in the long run more weighty than +the man. + +Chateaubriand was a kind of continuer and modifier of a celebrated +French writer that preceded him. He was a better-bred, a much purified, +an aristocratic Rousseau. He may be pronounced second greatest in the +succession of the literary sentimentalists of France. + +René François Augustus, Viscount de Chateaubriand, to give him now his +full name and title, lived a life replete with adventure and +vicissitude. At twenty-three years of age he fled from the horrors of +the French Revolution to travel in America and to find a north-west +passage to the Polar Sea. He called, with a letter of introduction, on +President Washington, to whose prudent dissuasion of the young man from +his project of arctic exploration, founded on the difficulty of the +task, Chateaubriand had the French readiness, together with the +necessary egotism, to make the complimentary reply: "But, sir, my task +is not so difficult as yours was, that of creating a state." In his +posthumous biography, the "_Memoirs d'Outre Tombe_" [Memoirs from Beyond +the Tomb], Chateaubriand, alluding to this interview of his with +Washington, said, sententiously and loftily, "There is a virtue in the +look of a great man." + +Our adventurer never found that north-west passage which he came to +seek, but he took impressions of a strange new world, impressions that +he afterward turned to various literary account. His "René" was one +fruit of these experiences of his. The "René" is a romantic and +sentimental tale, the main interest of which, where it possessed +interest, lay in the seductive style of the composition, the idealizing +descriptions occurring in it of American landscape, and the tone of +melancholy reflection that pervaded it. The "noble red man" is made in +it to talk like a Socrates come again, or like a French Christian +philosopher born "the heir of all the ages." Such absurd inconsistency +with the truth of things well illustrates that taint of lurking +falseness which to such a degree vitiates all Chateaubriand's work. + +The French Revolution had made great strides while Chateaubriand was +discovering the north-west passage by musing and dreaming in the woods +and by the streams of the New World. Learning that many members of his +social class, the aristocracy of France, had fled from their homes and +were rallying in other lands to make a stand against their enemies, +Chateaubriand resolved to join them. He was nigh to shipwreck on his +way. In a siege, after his arrival, he was saved from death by the +chance of his having the manuscript of his "Atala" in the right spot on +his person to intercept a ball from the enemy. But he was severely +wounded nevertheless, and, worse still, was attacked with the small-pox. +Thus disabled, he started on foot to make a journey of hundreds of +miles. He, of course, suffered many hardships, and one night gave up to +die in a ditch in which he lay down to rest. He was picked up and +carried to Namur. Here, as he crawled on hands and knees through the +streets, he was befriended by some women who saw his condition. After +many adventures, he found himself in London, where he lived squalidly on +what he could earn by hack-work with his pen. + +His family meantime were suffering in France. Some of them had actually +been guillotined, and some were imprisoned, among them his wife, his +sister, and his mother. The mother died praying for her son's conversion +from infidel error. The sister wrote to her brother the pathetic story, +but she too had died before her letter reached that brother's hand. +"These two voices," Chateaubriand says, "coming up from the grave, ... +struck me with peculiar force.... I wept and believed." The "Genius of +Christianity" was written in the spirit of this sentimental conversion +of the author. + +We pass over, with mere mention of some principal titles, his other +books, not previously named, as his "Itinerary," a volume of travels; +his "Moses," his "Martyrs," his "Essay on English Literature," his +"Translation of the Paradise Lost," to make the brief extracts for which +we have room from the "Genius of Christianity." + +This work is designed as a manual of Christian evidence, an argument for +the truth of the Christian religion. It is written, of course, from a +Roman Catholic point of view, but it may be described as liberal and +literary, rather than strict and ecclesiastical. It is far from being +closely reasoned. There is, in fact, a great deal of digression and +discussion in it. The aim of the author was evidently more to make a +readable book suited to the times than to produce an apologetic work +that would stand four-square against all hostile attack. The author's +question with himself as he wrote seemed to have been, not, Is this +valid, and necessary to the demonstration? but, Will this be +interesting? The consequence is that the "Genius of Christianity" is now +worthy of note rather as a book that has had a history than as a book +that possesses permanent value. It contains, however, writing that will +satisfactorily exhibit the style of Chateaubriand--a clear, pure, +brilliant, harmonious poetic prose. + +Chateaubriand raises and answers the question why the ancients failed in +feeling for the beauties and sublimities of nature, thus: + + It can scarcely be supposed that men endued with such sensibility as + the ancients could have wanted eyes to perceive the charms of nature + and talents for depicting them, had they not been blinded by some + powerful cause. Now, this cause was their established mythology, + which, peopling the universe with elegant phantoms, banished from the + creation its solemnity, its grandeur, and its solitude. It was + necessary that Christianity should expel the whole hosts of fauns, of + satyrs, and of nymphs, to restore to the grottoes their silence, and + to the woods their scope for uninterrupted contemplation. Under our + religion the deserts have assumed a character more pensive, more + vague, and more sublime; the forests have attained a loftier pitch; + the rivers have broken their petty urns, that in future they may only + pour the waters of the abyss from the summit of the mountains; and the + true God, in returning to his work, has imparted his immensity to + nature. + +The foregoing, paradoxical perhaps, is certainly a sharp turning of the +tables upon modern paganizers who mourn the dead Greek and Roman +divinities of grove and stream. + +Here is a passage in description of nature that every reader must +acknowledge to be charming. It is throughout thoroughly characteristic +of the author. The closing sentence is certainly French rather than +Hebrew in spirit--Chateaubriand rather than David: + + Penetrate into those forests of America coeval with the world. What + profound silence pervades these retreats when the winds are hushed! + What unknown voices when they begin to rise! Stand still, and + everything is mute; take but a step, and all nature sighs. Night + approaches; the shades thicken; you hear herds of wild beasts passing + in the dark; the ground murmurs under your feet; the pealing thunder + roars in the deserts; the forest bows; the trees fall; an unknown + river rolls before you. The moon at length bursts forth in the east; + as you proceed at the foot of the trees she seems to move before you + at their tops and solemnly to accompany your steps. The wanderer seats + himself on the trunk of an oak to await the return of day; he looks + alternately at the nocturnal luminary, the darkness, and the river: he + feels restless, agitated, and in expectation of something + extraordinary. A pleasure never felt before, an unusual fear, cause + his heart to throb as if he were about to be admitted to some secret + of the Divinity; he is alone in the depths of the forest, but the mind + of man is equal to the expanse of nature, and all the solitudes of the + earth are less vast than one single thought of his heart. Even did he + reject the idea of a deity, the intellectual being, alone and + unbeheld, would be more august in the midst of a solitary world than + if surrounded by the ridiculous divinities of fabulous times. The + barren desert itself would have some congeniality with his discursive + thoughts, his melancholy feelings, and even his disgust for a life + equally devoid of illusion and of hope. + + There is in man an instinctive melancholy which makes him harmonize + with the scenery of nature. Who has not spent whole hours seated on + the bank of a river contemplating its passing waves? Who has not found + pleasure on the sea-shore in viewing the distant rock whitened by the + billows? How much are the ancients to be pitied, who discovered in the + ocean naught but the palace of Neptune and the cavern of Proteus! It + was hard that they should perceive only the adventures of the Tritons + and the Nereids in the immensity of the seas, which seems to give an + indistinct measure of the greatness of our souls, and which excites a + vague desire to quit this life, that we may embrace all nature and + taste the fullness of joy in the presence of its author. + +How Roman Catholic, rather than catholic, in tone, is the "Genius of +Christianity," the following deliciously written sentiment about the +Virgin Mary will sufficiently show: + + They who see nothing in the chaste queen of angels but an obscure + mystery are much to be pitied. What touching thoughts are suggested by + that mortal woman, become the immortal mother of a Saviour-God! What + might not be said of Mary, who is at once a virgin and a mother, the + two most glorious characters of woman!--of that youthful daughter of + ancient Israel, who presents herself for the relief of human + suffering, and sacrifices a son for the salvation of her paternal + race! This tender mediatrix between us and the Eternal, with a heart + full of compassion for our miseries, forces us to confide in her + maternal aid, and disarms the vengeance of Heaven. What an enchanting + dogma, that allays the terror of a God by causing beauty to intervene + between our nothingness and his Infinite Majesty. + + The anthems of the Church represent the Blessed Mary seated upon a + pure-white throne more dazzling than the snow. We there behold her + arrayed in splendor, as a mystical rose, or as the morning star, + harbinger of the Sun of grace; the brightest angels wait upon her, + while celestial harps and voices form a ravishing concert around her. + In that daughter of humanity we behold the refuge of sinners, the + comforter of the afflicted, who, all good, all compassionate, all + indulgent, averts from us the anger of the Lord. + + Mary is the refuge of innocence, of weakness, and of misfortune. The + faithful clients that crowd our churches to lay their homage at her + feet are poor mariners who have escaped shipwreck under her + protection, aged soldiers whom she has saved from death in the fierce + hour of battle, young women whose bitter griefs she has assuaged. The + mother carries her babe before her image, and this little one, though + it knows not as yet the God of heaven, already knows that divine + mother who holds an infant in her arms. + +Finally, to illustrate the amusing real lack of logic, masking in +logical form, of which Chateaubriand was capable, we give the +syllogistic-looking conclusion that sums up the book: + + Christianity is perfect; men are imperfect. + + Now, a perfect consequence cannot spring from an imperfect principle. + + Christianity, therefore, is not the work of men. + + If Christianity is not the work of men, it can have come from none but + God. + + If it came from God, men cannot have acquired a knowledge of it but by + revelation. + + Therefore, Christianity is a revealed religion. + +Chateaubriand was long a venerated figure, central in the pure and +brilliant _salon_ of Madame Récamier, that later Marchioness Rambouillet +at Paris. His easy airs of patriarchal condescension toward the younger +generation of authors who drew around him there naturally engaged them +to prolong the long days of his triumphs. But his triumphs may be said +to have come to an end when Sainte-Beuve was ready to pronounce, as he +did, that this defender of Christianity was a skeptic at heart, this +preacher and praiser of purity was a libertine in life. We will not say +that we accept this destructive view of Chateaubriand's character. But +we are bound to confess that we wish there were more internal evidence +contained in his writings to throw doubt on the justice of a sentence so +severe. + + +DE MAISTRE (Joseph Marie, 1753-1821), is another author who, like +Chateaubriand, a little earlier than he, took up a polemic for +Christianity as represented in Roman Catholicism. A truly high and nobly +earnest spirit was De Maistre, as such contrasting with Chateaubriand, a +far deeper and far more philosophical thinker than his brilliant +compeer, but wanting in that grace and seductiveness of style which gave +to Chateaubriand his life-long wide supremacy in the empire of French +letters. It would be not incongruous, if there were room for it in our +volume, to prolong this chapter with some brief notice and +exemplification of De Maistre's literary work. We must content ourselves +with this respectful bare mention of his name. + +The proportionately small space in these pages that, in here ending our +notice of him, we allot to Chateaubriand, fails indeed to represent by +symbol to the eye the proportionate space that he occupies in the +literature of his country. But it has afforded us fairly adequate +opportunity to exhibit in description and specimen the characteristic +quality of his literary production. + + + + +XXI. + +BÉRANGER. + +1780-1857. + + +Béranger was a song-writer, the whole of him. He was a song-writer and +nothing else. It is his own word, "My songs, they are myself." + +Béranger was not the rose-crowned lyrist of love and wine; he was not +Anacreon. Béranger was not the hymner of heroes and kings, a maker of +odes; he was not Pindar. Béranger was not the poet of the world, the gay +world and the wise; he was not Horace. Béranger was not by chance the +lowly melodist, who might by chance as well have been a lofty bard; he +was not Robert Burns. Béranger was the song-singer of the people; he +himself elected to be such, and he was by the people elected to be such; +he said himself, "My muse is the people." In one word, Béranger +was--Béranger. There was none like him before, there has been none like +him since; Béranger is alone. We do not thus praise him, we simply +describe him. + +But it is possible to describe him better. We do so by borrowing from +Victor Hugo through Sainte-Beuve. + +Sainte-Beuve, not in his essay on Béranger (which, in appreciating, +somewhat depreciates the poet), but among the interesting things that, +under the title "Chateaubriana," he prints at the close of his monograph +in two volumes on Chateaubriand, has the following personal recollection +of his own, which, given here, will serve a threefold purpose; that of +hinting incidentally the relation of four celebrated French authors to +one another, that of illustrating the ready fecundity and plasticity of +Victor Hugo's genius, and that of setting forth in concrete example +Béranger's master method in his songs, which master method is +essentially Béranger, the song-writer, himself. Sainte-Beuve says--of +course we translate: + + Victor Hugo, returning one morning from the garden of the Luxembourg + (1828 or 1829) said to me: "If I should see Béranger, I would give him + the subject of a pretty song. I just now met M. de Chateaubriand in + the Luxembourg; he did not see me; he was wrapt in thought, intently + observing some children who, seated on the ground, were playing and + tracing figures in the sand. If I were Béranger I would make a song on + the subject: 'I have been minister, I have been ambassador, etc., I + wear the decoration of the Order of the Holy Ghost, that of the Order + of the Golden Fleece, that of the order of St. Andrew, etc.; and one + sole thing at last amuses me: it is to watch children playing in the + sand. I wrote "René," I wrote the "Genius of Christianity," I stood up + against Napoleon, I opened the poetic era of the century, etc.; and I + know only one thing that amuses me: to watch children at play upon the + sand. I have seen America, I have seen Greece and Rome, I have seen + Jerusalem, etc.' And after each enumeration of various experiences, + forms of greatness or of honor, all kept returning still to this: to + watch children playing and tracing circles in the sand." The plan + sketched by Victor Hugo was perfect, far better than I have given it + here; but the motive is plain, the idea of the refrain. Never have I + had better defined to me the difference that separates the song, even + the most elevated in character, from the ode properly so-called. + +There is Béranger, his whole secret, summed up in small by a masterhand. +What Béranger, then, did was to choose wisely, with long heed, some +single, simple, obvious sentiment, appealing to every body's experience, +shut that sentiment up into a short, neat, striking, rememberable form +of words suited to be sung, make of that form of words a refrain to +recur at intervals, and finally on that refrain build up, one after +another to the end, the stanzas of his song. He worked slowly and +painfully. His genius was never very prolific. The time of his chief +fruitfulness was short, covering only fifteen years, the fifteen years +between Waterloo (1815) and the elevation of Louis Philippe to the +throne of France (1830). During this time his largest product hardly +exceeded a dozen songs a year. + +Béranger's first discipline to his art may be considered to have been a +certain favorite diversion of his childhood, the carving of +cherry-stones. This exercise of skill he practiced sedulously with +delight when a boy, and in it learned the long, minute patience of art. +The man's songs were cut gems laboriously finished, like the boy's +carvings in cherry-stones. + +Béranger became immensely popular. He remained so to the end. When he +died, and it was after prolonged silence on his part--if one can call +silence a period marked, indeed, by non-production, but filled with the +singing, from land's end to land's end, of his songs in every +mouth--when he died the empire buried him and the nation attended his +funeral. He had been born poor, and he was reared in poverty. Rich he +would not be, when a man. He took infinite pains to be of the people, +and he succeeded. The people were loving and honoring themselves in +loving and honoring Béranger. Sainte-Beuve, with that critical +incredulity of his, thought that Béranger carried his demonstrative +cultivation of the "people" to the point of something like affectation. +Perhaps; but the affectation, if it was such, had a sound basis in it of +real instinctive popular sympathy. Still, Béranger's emphasized +identification of himself with the people was not all a matter of +instinct with him. It was in part a matter of deliberately adopted +policy. He said: + + The people wanted a man to speak to them the language they love and + understand, and to create imitators to vary and multiply versions of + the same text. _I have been that man._ + +Béranger was quite willing to make any moral descent that might seem to +him necessary in order to reach his audience. He may have been +instinctively, but he was also deliberately, low and lewd in some of his +songs. + + Without their help [said he, that is without the help of such immoral + songs] I am disposed to think that the others would not have been able + to go so far, or so low, or even so high; no offense in this last word + to the virtues of good society. + +Even the best of Béranger's songs lack any thing like lift and +aspiration. They are conceived in a comparatively low tone. The noblest +leaven in them is love of France and of liberty. Béranger hated the +Bourbons; they persecuted him, but that only helped him sing them off +the throne of France. Béranger's songs did more than any other one +individual influence, perhaps they did more than all other individual +influences combined, first to overturn the restored Bourbon dynasty +after Waterloo, and, second, to bring about the elevation of Louis +Napoleon to power. + +For Béranger was a passionate admirer of the great Napoleon. True, he +deprecated the exhaustions visited on France by the wars of glory which +Napoleon waged. But that famous piece of his, "The King of Yvetot," in +which this deprecation found voice, was a protest so lightly conceived +and at bottom so genial, that the jealousy of Napoleon himself could +afford to laugh at it. The pieces in which, on the contrary, he +celebrated the praises of the emperor were written with an emotion +contagiously vivid. Let us now have before us "The King of Yvetot," with +an appropriate contrast to it afterward supplied in one of these +encomiastic pieces. + +"Yvetot" is the name of an ancient French town, situated in a seignory +the lord of which once enjoyed the nominal rank of king. The effect of +Béranger's title to his song is of course humorous. The song-writer's +purpose was to draw, in the king whom he describes, a whimsical contrast +to the restless Napoleon. Thackeray furnishes us with a happily +sympathetic rendering of Béranger's "King of Yvetot," as follows; for +brevity's sake we omit one stanza: + + There was a king of Yvetot, + Of whom renown hath little said, + Who let all thoughts of glory go, + And dawdled half his days a-bed; + And every night, as night came round, + By Jenny with a night-cap crowned, + Slept very sound. + Sing, ho, ho, ho! and he, he, he! + That's the kind of king for me. + + And every day it came to pass + That four lusty meals made he, + And step by step, upon an ass, + Rode abroad his realms to see; + And wherever he did stir, + What think you was his escort, sir? + Why, an old cur. + Sing, ho, ho, ho! and he, he, he! + That's the kind of king for me. + + If e'er he went into excess, + 'Twas from a somewhat lively thirst, + But he who would his subjects bless, + Odd's fish!--must wet his whistle first, + And so from every cask they got, + Our king did to himself allot + At least a pot. + Sing, ho, ho, ho! and he, he, he! + That's the kind of king for me. + + To all the ladies of the land + A courteous king, and kind, was he; + The reason why you'll understand, + They named him _Pater Patriæ._ + Each year he called his fighting-men, + And marched a league from home, and then, + Marched back again. + Sing, ho, ho, ho! and he, he, he! + That's the kind of king for me. + + * * * * * + + The portrait of this best of kings + Is extant still, upon a sign + That on a village tavern swings, + Famed in the country for good wine. + The people in their Sunday trim, + Filling their glasses to the brim, + Look up to him. + Singing, ha, ha, ha! and he, he, he! + That's the sort of king for me. + +In his autobiography, an interesting book, Béranger says that hardly any +other writer equally with himself could have dispensed with the help of +the printer. His songs traveled of themselves from mouth to mouth +without the intervention of printed copies. In fact, Béranger was +already famous before his works went into print. It was this oral +currency of his songs that made them such engines of power. That +brilliant Bohemian wit among Frenchmen, Chamfort, defined, it is said, +before Béranger's time, the government of France to be absolute monarchy +tempered by songs. This celebrated saying does not overstate the degree, +though it may misstate the kind, of influence that Béranger exercised +with his lyre. He was, by conviction and in sympathy, a determined and +ardent republican, and yet, in fact, he founded, or played the chief +part in founding, the imperial usurpation of Louis Napoleon. This he did +by getting the glories of the great emperor sung by Frenchmen throughout +France, until the very name of Napoleon became an irresistible spell to +conjure by. We now give the most celebrated of these Bonaparte songs. +Mr. William Young, an American, has a volume of translations from +Béranger. Of this particular song, Mr. Young's version is so felicitous +that we unhesitatingly choose it for our readers. The title of the song +is, "The Recollections of the People." It was, we believe, founded on an +incident of Béranger's own observation; we shorten again by a stanza: + + Aye, many a day the straw-thatched cot + Shall echo with his glory! + The humblest shed, these fifty years, + Shall know no other story. + There shall the idle villagers + To some old dame resort, + And beg her with those good old tales + To make their evenings short. + "What though they say he did us harm + Our love this cannot dim; + Come, Granny, talk of him to us; + Come, Granny, talk of him." + + "Well, children--with a train of kings + Once he passed by this spot; + 'Twas long ago; I had but just + Begun to boil the pot. + On foot he climbed the hill, whereon + I watched him on his way; + He wore a small three-cornered hat; + His overcoat was gray. + I was half frightened till he spoke; + 'My dear,' says he, 'how do?'" + "O, Granny, Granny, did he speak? + What, Granny! speak to you?" + + * * * * * + + "But when at length our poor Champagne + By foes was overrun, + He seemed alone to hold his ground; + Nor dangers would he shun. + One night--as might be now--I heard + A knock--the door unbarred-- + And saw--good God! 'twas he, himself, + With but a scanty guard. + 'O what a war is this!' he cried, + Taking this very chair." + "What! Granny, Granny, there he sat? + What! Granny, he sat there?" + + "'I'm hungry,' said he: quick I served + Thin wine and hard brown bread; + He dried his clothes, and by the fire + In sleep drooped down his head. + Waking, he saw my tears--'Cheer up, + Good dame!' says he, 'I go + 'Neath Paris' walls to strike for France + One last avenging blow.' + He went; but on the cup he used + Such value did I set-- + It has been treasured." "What! till now? + You have it, Granny, yet?" + + "Here 'tis; but 'twas the hero's fate + To ruin to be led; + He, whom a pope had crowned, alas! + In a lone isle lies dead. + 'Twas long denied: 'No, no,' said they, + 'Soon shall he re-appear; + O'er ocean comes he, and the foe + Shall find his master here.' + Ah, what a bitter pang I felt, + When forced to own 'twas true!" + "Poor Granny! Heaven for this will look, + Will kindly look on you." + +There was not in Béranger's genius much innate and irrepressible +buoyancy toward poetry, as we English-speakers conceive poetry. But he +practiced a severely self-tasking art of verse, which at last yielded a +product sufficiently consummate in form to command the admiration of +qualified critics. He became unquestionably first among the song-writers +of France; he even elevated song-writing, popular song-writing, to the +rank of acknowledged literature. His fashion, and, with his fashion, his +currency, are rapidly becoming things of the past; but the real merit of +his achievement, and, more than that, the fact of his extraordinary +influence make his name securely immortal in the literary history, and +in the literature, of France. + + + + +XXII. + +LAMARTINE. + +1791-1869. + + +Lamartine, the man, was an image incongruously molded of gold and of +clay. Take him at his best, and what is there better? Take him at his +worst, and you would not wish worse. + +The same contrast holds, but not in the same degree, in Lamartine the +author. He is at once one of the most admirable, and one of the least +admirable, of writers. + +There are few figures in history worthier to command the homage of +generous hearts than the figure of Lamartine in 1848, calming and +quelling the mob of Paris by the simple ascendant of genius and of +bravery. There are few figures in history more abject than the figure of +Lamartine, toward the close of his life, in the garb of a beggar +holding out his hat to mankind for the pence and half-pence of wonder, +of sympathy, and of sympathetic shame. + +Perhaps we instinctively fall into some contagious conformity to +Lamartine's own exaggerating rhetoric in expressing ourselves as we do. + +The chief facts of the life of Alphonse Marie Louis de Prat de Lamartine +are briefly these. Well-born, having for mother a woman of more than +Cornelian, of Christian, virtue, who herself mainly educated her son, he +traveled, loved, lost, wept "melodious tears"--mixed much in Parisian +society, until, at thirty, he published under the title "Meditations," a +volume of verse which made him instantly, brilliantly, triumphantly, +famous. Every thing desirable was easy to him now. He married an +Englishwoman of wealth, he wrote and published more poetry, amusing +himself meantime with various diplomatic service, was made member of the +French Academy, and in 1832 went traveling in the East, like an Eastern +prince for lavish splendor of equipage and outlay. His book, "Memories +of the Orient," published three years after, was the fruit of what he +saw and felt and dreamed during this luxurious experience of travel. +Dreamed, we say, for Lamartine drew freely on his imagination to expand +and embellish his memories of the East. Other volumes of verse, his +"Jocelyn," his "Fall of an Angel," and his "Recollections" followed +speedily. + +The Revolution of 1830 had seated Louis Philippe on the throne. +Lamartine under him had been elected to the legislature of France and +had been making reputation as an orator. The poet and orator would now +be historian. Lamartine wrote his celebrated "History of the +Girondists," which, after first appearing in numbers, was issued in +volume in 1847. This book had in it the fermenting principle of a fresh +revolution. In 1848 that revolution came, and Louis Philippe fled from +Paris and from France, in precipitate abdication of his throne. + +Now was the moment of glory and of opportunity for Lamartine. During +the three months following, he may be said to have ruled France. +Eloquence and bravery together never won triumphs more resplendent than +were Lamartine's during this swift interval of his dizzy elevation to +power. He was in title simply minister for foreign affairs, in a +provisional government which he had had himself the decision and the +intrepidity among the first to propose. But his personal popularity, his +serene courage, his magical eloquence, gave him much the authority of +dictator. It cannot be asserted that Lamartine, in this crisis, proved +himself a statesman able to cope with the stern exactions of the hour. +The candidate for such distinction success only can crown, and Lamartine +did not succeed. He fell, as suddenly and as swiftly as he had risen. +Yesterday omnipotent, he was absolutely impotent to-day. + +But nothing can deprive Lamartine of the pacific glory his due from +several extraordinary feats of eloquence achieved by him, at imminent +risk to himself, on behalf of mankind. A mob of forty thousand Parisian +fanatics roared into the street before the Hôtel de Ville to compel the +Provisional Government sitting there to adopt the red flag as the ensign +of the republic. This meant nothing less than a new reign of terror for +France. Lamartine, single-handed, met the wild beast to its teeth, and +with one stroke of the sword that went forth from his mouth laid it +tamed at his feet. "The red flag you bring us," cried the orator to the +mob, he shining the while resplendent in a personal beauty touched with +the gleam of genius and glorified with the consecration of courage--like +a descended Apollo, the rattling quiver borne on his shoulder--"The red +flag you bring us," said he, "has only gone round the Champ de Mars, +trailed in the blood of the people--in 1791 and in 1793; while the +tricolor has gone round the world, with the name, the glory, and the +liberty of our country." This eloquent condensation of history, +untremblingly shot, at close quarters, full in the face of those +wild-eyed insurgents, felled them, as if it had been a ball from a +cannon. But ranks from behind still pressed forward with menacing +cries. "Down with Lamartine!" "Down with the time-server!" "Off with his +head! His head! His head! Lamartine's head!" + +The brandished weapons were in Lamartine's very face. But that gentle +blood never blenched. "My head, citizens? You want my head? Indeed, but +I wish you had it, every one of you. If Lamartine's head were now on +each pair of shoulders among you, you would be wiser than you are, and +the revolution would go on more prosperously." The mob was in +Lamartine's hand again, taken captive with a jest. + +It is generally granted that Lamartine saved the nation from a new reign +of terror. But eloquence is not statesmanship; and Lamartine, weighed in +the balance, was found wanting. He served at last only to hand over the +state to Louis Napoleon, first president, and then emperor. + +Under Napoleon, Lamartine, now and henceforward simply a private +citizen, found his affairs embarrassed. He had been a prodigal spender +of money. He toiled at letters to mend his broken fortunes. But his sun +was past its meridian, and it settled hopelessly in cloud toward its +west. He wrote a pseudo-biography of himself and published it as a +serial in one of the Paris daily newspapers. He almost literally with +his own hands performed the profaneness execrated by the poet, and "tare +his heart before the crowd"--or would have done so, if his production, +the "Confidences," so called, had really been what it purported to be, +the actual story of his life. It was in fact as much imagination as +revelation. But the once overwhelmingly popular author now cheapened +himself before the public in almost every practicable way. He brought +his own personal dignity to market in his works--and did this over and +over again. The public bought their former idol at his own cheapened +price, and he still remained poor. In 1850 a public subscription was +opened for his relief. As a last humiliation, the proud patrician +submitted to accept a pension from the empire of Louis Napoleon. This he +enjoyed but two years, for in two years after he died. A further space +of two years, and the empire itself that granted Lamartine his pension +had met its Sedan and ceased to be. + +Fresh from admiring the radiant pages of Lamartine's rhetoric in prose, +from admiring the iridescent play in color, the deliquescent melody in +sound, of his verse, we feel it painful to admit to ourselves that so +much indisputably fine effect goes for little or nothing, now that the +fashion of that world of taste and feeling for which this writer wrote +has passed returnlessly away. But so it is. Lamartine, like +Chateaubriand, and for substantially the same reason, namely, lack of +fundamental genuineness, has already reached that last pathetic phase, +well-nigh worse than total eclipse, of literary fame, the condition of +an author important in the history of literature, rather than in +literature. + +Poet, orator, historian, statesman, this munificently gifted nature was +most profoundly, most controllingly, poet. But he was French poet, which +is to say that his poetry is removed, if not quite from access to the +English mind, at least from access to the English mind through +translation. He, however, enjoyed at first high English reputation as +poet, and the publication of "Jocelyn," his masterpiece in verse, may be +said to have been even a European event in literary history. + +The story of "Jocelyn" is avouched by the author to be almost a series +of actual occurrences. This assertion, to those familiar with +Lamartine's style in asserting, will not be quite so conclusive as on +its face it appears. At any rate, if "Jocelyn" be truth, Lamartine has +made truth read like fiction, and fiction of a highly improbable sort. +The story, true or fictitious--and which it is, as nobody now knows, so +nobody now cares--we need not detain our readers to report. + +The poet staggered his public by printing on the title-page to his +"Jocelyn" the words, "An Episode," as much as to say that a certain +"Epic of Humanity," which he might finally (but which, as a matter of +fact, he never did) produce, would be large enough to make shrink into +the dimensions of a mere episode this poem of ten thousand lines more or +less! + +Now for an extract or two. In the "Edinburgh Review," of a date not far +from fifty years past now, we find our translation. A day of festival, +followed by a long evening of out-door dancing to music, has just +closed. The breaking-up is described, with the sequel of young Jocelyn's +pensive and yearning emotions: + + Then later, when the fife and hautboy's voice + Began to languish like a failing voice, + And moistened ringlets, by the dance unstrung, + Close to the cheek in drooping tresses clung, + And wearied groups along the darkening green + Gliding, in converse soft and low, were seen, + What sounds enchanting to the ear are muttered! + Adieus, regrets, the kiss, the word half uttered-- + My soul was stirred; my ear with sweet sounds rife + Drank languidly the luscious draught of life; + I followed with my step, my heart, my eye, + Each maiden that with wearied eyes went by, + Thrilled at the rustle of each silken dress, + And felt that each that passed still left a joy the less. + At last the dance is hushed, the din at rest, + The moon is risen above the mountain's crest; + Only some lover, heedless of the hour, + Wends homeward, dreaming, to his distant bower; + Or, where the village paths divide, there stand + Some loitering couples, lingering hand in hand, + Who start to hear the clock's unwelcome knell, + Then dive and vanish in the forest dell. + + And now I am at home alone. 'Tis night. + All still within the house, no fire, no light. + Let me, too, sleep. Alas! no sleep is there! + Pray then. My spirit will not hear my prayer. + My ear is still with dancing measures ringing, + Echoes which memory back to sense is bringing; + I close my eyes: before my inward glance + Still swims the _fête_, still whirls the giddy dance; + The graceful phantoms of the vanished ball + Come flitting by in beauty each and all; + A glance still haunts my couch; a soft hand seems + To press my hand, that trembles in my dreams, + Fair tresses in the dance's flight brought nigh, + Just touch my cheek, and like the wind flow by, + I see from maiden brows the roses falling, + I hear beloved lips my name recalling-- + Anne, Lucy, Blanche!--Where am I--What is this? + What must love be, when even love's dream is bliss! + +There is an indefinable French difference, but, that apart, the +foregoing is somewhat like Goldsmith in his "Deserted Village." Or is it +the resemblance of meter that produces the impression? + +"Jocelyn," though certainly intended by the author to be pure, wavers at +points on the edge of the exceptionably ambiguous. The following spring +song, however, put by the poet into the mouth of his Laurence, is an +inspiration as innocent as it is sweet: + + See, in her nest, the nightingale's mute mate, + Hatching her young, her patient vigil hold. + See how with love her fostering wings dilate, + As if to screen her nurslings from the cold. + + Her neck alone, in restlessness upraised, + O'ertops the nest in which her brood reposes, + And her bright eye, with weary watching glazed, + Closing to sleep, with every sound uncloses. + + Care for her callow young consumes her rest, + My very voice her downy bosom shakes, + And her heart pants beneath its plumy vest, + And the nest trembles with each breath she takes. + + What spell enchains her to this gentle care? + Her mate's sweet melody the groves among, + Who, from some branching oak, high poised in air + Sends down the flowing river of his song. + + Hark! dost thou hear him, drop by drop distilling + The sighs that sweetest after transport be, + Then suddenly the vault above us filling + With foaming cataracts of harmony? + + What spell enchains him in his turn--what makes + His very being thus in languor melt-- + But that his voice a living echo wakes, + His lay within one loving heart is felt! + + And, ravished by the note, his mate still holds + Her watch attentive through the weary time; + The season comes, the bursting shell unfolds, + And life is music all, and love, and prime. + +Passing now from Lamartine's poetry, expressly such, we go to his prose, +which, however, is scarcely, if at all, less poetical. Poetry, or at +least, the presence in power, and in great proportionate excess of +power, of imagination, lording it over every thing else, over memory, +judgment, taste, good sense, veracity--characterizes all that proceeded +from Lamartine's pen. His history is valueless, almost valueless, as +history. His travels are utterly untrustworthy as records of fact. +Lamartine cannot tell the simple truth. Persons, things, events, suffer +a sea-change, always to something rich and strange seen by him looming +in the luminous haze of atmosphere with which his imagination +perpetually invests them. His men are ennobled, like Ulysses +transfigured by Pallas-Athene. His women are beautiful as houris fresh +from paradise. The aspects of ocean and shore and wood and stream and +mountain and sky, are all, to Lamartine, washed with a light that never +was on sea or land or in heaven overhead, the consecration and the +poet's dream. This quality in Lamartine's style does not prevent his +being very fine. He is very fine; but you feel, Oh, if this all were +also true! + +On the whole, large, splendid, scenic, admirable in instinct for +choosing his point of view, as Lamartine is in his histories, brilliant +even, and fecund in suggestion, we turn from the ostensibly historical +in our author to the ostensibly autobiographical, in order to find our +prose specimens of his quality in the "Confidences." Lamartine never +perhaps did any thing finer, any thing more characteristic, than in +telling his story of "Graziella" in that work. This story is an +"episode" where it appears; or rather--for it is hardly so much as let +into the continuous warp and woof of the "Confidences"--it is a +separable device of ornament embroidered upon the surface of the fabric. +It is probably, indeed, to some extent autobiographic; but the +imagination had as much part in it as the memory. For instance, the +actual girl that is transfigured into the "Graziella" of the story was +not a coral-grinder, as she is represented by Lamartine, but an +operative in a tobacco factory. The real beauty of the tale is, by a +kind of just retribution on the author, inseparably bound up with +unconscious revelation on his part of heartless vanity and egotism in +his own character. You admire, but while you admire you wonder, you +reprobate, you contemn. A man such as this, you instinctively feel, was +not worthy to live immortally as an author. You are reconciled to let +Lamartine pass. + +"Graziella" is a story of love and death, on one side, of desertion and +expiation--expiation through sentimental tears--on the other. One would +gladly trust, if one could, that the reality veiled under the fiction +was as free in fact from outward guilt as it is idealized to have been +by the writer's fancy. But neither this supposition, nor any other +charitable supposition whatever, can redeem "Graziella" from the +condemnation of being steeped in egregious vanity, egotism, and false +sentiment, from the heart of the author. + +We strike into the midst of the narrative, toward the end. There has +been described the growth of relation between the author and the heroine +of the idyll, a fisherman's daughter. And now this heroine, Graziella, +is desired in marriage by a worthy young countryman of hers. Such a +suitor--for she loves, though secretly, the author (this by the way is a +thing almost of course with Lamartine)--the girl cannot bring herself to +accept. In despair she flees to make herself a nun. She is found by the +autobiographer alone in a deserted house. He ministers to her in her +exhausted state--and this to the following result: + + "I feel well," said she to me, speaking in a tone of voice that was + low, soft, even, and monotonous, as if her breast had completely lost + its vibration and its accent at the same time, and as if her voice had + only retained one single note. "I have in vain sought to hide it from + myself--I have in vain sought to hide it forever from thee. I may die, + but thou art the only one that I can ever love. They wished to + betroth me to another; thou art the one to whom my soul is betrothed. + I will never give myself to another on earth, for I have already + secretly given myself to thee. To thee on earth, or to God in heaven! + that is the vow I made the first day I discovered that my heart was + sick for thee! I well know that I am only a poor girl, unworthy to + touch thy feet even in thought; therefore, have I never asked thee to + love me. I never will ask thee if thou dost love me. But I--I love + thee, I love thee, I love thee!" And she seemed to concentrate her + whole soul in those three words. "Now despise me, mock me, spurn me + with thy feet! Laugh at me if thou wilt, as a mad thing who fancies + she is a queen in the midst of her tatters. Hold me up to the scorn of + the whole world! Yes, I will tell them with my own lips--'Yes, I love + him. And had you been in my place you would have done as I have--you + would have loved him or have died.'" + +The man thus wooed by the maid assures her of his reciprocal affection. +But the author explains to his readers: + + Alas! it was not real love, it was but its shadow in my heart. But I + was too young and too ingenuous not to be deceived by it myself. I + thought that I adored her as so much innocence, beauty, and love + deserved to be adored by a lover. I told her so, with that accent of + sincerity which emotion imparts; with that impassioned restraint which + is imparted by solitude, darkness, despair, and tears. She believed it + because she required that belief to live, and because she had enough + passion in her own heart to make up for its insufficiency in a + thousand other hearts. + +The autobiographer is summoned away by his mother, and he goes, +lacerating Graziella's heart, but swearing a thousand oaths of fealty to +his beloved. Alas! the "treacherous air of absence" undid all--with him, +though not with her. He blames himself in retrospect--gently--and pities +himself lamentably, as follows: + + I was at that ungrateful period of life when frivolity and imitation + make a young man feel a false shame in the best feelings of his nature + ... I would not have dared to confess ... the name and station of the + object of my regret and sadness.... How I blush now for having blushed + then! and how much more precious was one of the joy-beams or one of + the tear-drops of her chaste eyes than all the glances, all the + allurements, all the smiles for which I was about to sacrifice her + image! Ah! man, when he is too young, cannot love! He knows not the + value of any thing! He only knows what real happiness is after he has + lost it.... True love is the ripe fruit of life. At twenty, it is not + known, it is imagined. + +A farewell letter from Graziella dying: + + "The doctor says that I shall die in less than three days. I wish to + say farewell to thee ere I lose all my strength. Oh! if I had thee + near me, I would live! But it is God's will. I will soon speak to + thee, and forever, from on high. Love my soul! It shall be with thee + as long as thou livest. I leave thee my tresses, which were cut off + for thy sake one night. Consecrate them to God in some chapel in thy + own land, that something belonging to me may be near thee!" + +The autobiographer "complied with the order contained in her dying +behest." He says: "From that day forward, a shadow of her death spread +itself over my features and over my youth." He apostrophizes the +remembered Graziella as follows: + + "Poor Graziella! Many days have flown by since those days. I have + loved, I have been loved. Other rays of beauty and affection have + illumined my gloomy path. Other souls have opened themselves for me, + to reveal to me in the hearts of women the most mysterious treasures + of beauty, sanctity, and purity that God ever animated on earth, to + make us understand, foretaste, and desire heaven; but nothing has + dimmed thy first apparition in my heart.... Thy real sepulcher is in + my soul. There every part of thee is gathered and entombed. Thy name + never strikes my ear in vain. I love the language in which it is + uttered. At the bottom of my heart there is always a warm tear which + filters, drop by drop, and secretly falls upon my memory, to refresh + it and embalm it within me." + +The pensive poet even makes poetry on the subject, twenty years +afterward, poetry which, in his customary triplets of expression, he +calls "the balm of a wound, the dew of a heart, the perfume of a +sepulchral flower." He wrote it, he says, "with streaming eyes." He +prints his stanzas--for Lamartine is eminently of those who, as it has +been said, weep in print and wipe their eyes with the public--and with a +sigh, says: + + Thus did I expiate by these written tears the cruelty and ingratitude + of my heart of nineteen. I have never been able to reperuse these + verses without adoring that youthful image which the transparent and + plaintive waves of the Gulf of Naples will roll eternally before my + eyes ... and without detesting myself! But souls forgive on high. Hers + has forgiven me. Forgive me also, you!--I have wept. + +We ought not to disturb, with any further words of our own, the +impression of himself which Lamartine has now made on the reader. He has +given us here his own true image. He is the weeping poet. It is fit--let +him dissolve, let him exhale, from view in tears. + +Lachrymose Lamartine, farewell! + + + + +XXIII. + +THE GROUP OF 1830. + +VICTOR HUGO: 1802-1885; SAINTE-BEUVE: 1804-1869; BALZAC: 1799-1850; +GEORGE SAND: 1804-1876; DE MUSSET: 1810-1857. + + +As a convenient method of inclusion and condensation for a number of +authors who must by no means be omitted, but for whom there is left +little room in these pages, we adopt the plan of making a cluster of +important names to be treated in a single chapter. The political and the +literary history of France join a sort of synchronism with one another +at a certain point of time, which makes this arrangement not only +feasible but natural. + +The accession of Louis Philippe to the throne of France and the first +representation of Victor Hugo's "Hernani" in Paris both occurred in the +year 1830. The Bourbon or absolutist tradition in French politics and +the classic tradition in French letters were thus at one and the same +moment decisively interrupted. For, as in the commencing reign of Louis +Philippe, the "Citizen King" of France, the French people became for the +first time, under monarchical rule, a recognized estate in the realm, +so, with the triumph of Victor Hugo's "Hernani" on the stage, the hour +may be said to have struck of culmination in splendor and in influence +for the romantic movement in French literature. The dominance of the +ideas indicated in the expression "the Romantic Movement" was then +suddenly for the moment so overwhelming and so wide that it amounted +almost to a usurpation of letters in France. We might indeed have +written "The French Romanticists" as a fairly good alternative title to +the present chapter. + + +1. VICTOR HUGO. + +The men of 1830--we thus use a designation which has come to be +established in French literary history--began each man his career in +letters as a fighting romanticist. Victor Hugo was the acknowledged +Achilles of the fight. Whoever wavered backward, Victor Hugo clamped his +feet for his lifetime on the bridge of war, where his plume nodded +defiance, seeming still to say for its wearer standing with a cliff of +adamant at his back, + + Come one, come all, this rock shall fly + From its firm base as soon as I. + +Around Victor Hugo, as the towering central figure among them all, were +mustered, though some of them not to remain in this comradeship with +him, Sainte-Beuve, Balzac, George Sand, De Musset. There were others +than these, but these shall for us here constitute the group of 1830. + +We shall be in yet better accord with Victor Hugo's estimate of himself, +if we take for his symbol a being mightier even than a demigod like +Achilles. Let us do so and call him a Titan. But the past tense half +seems an anachronism in speaking of Victor Hugo. The earth still +trembles to his retiring footsteps and to the portentous reaction of his +wrestle in war with the gods. This is his glory--he fought against +Olympus, and, if he did not overthrow, at least he was not overthrown. +Olympus in our parable was classicism in power; Victor Hugo was the +genius of insurgent romanticism. + +We thus repeat yet again terms which it would be difficult precisely to +define. Classicism and romanticism are two forces in literature, +seemingly opposed to each other, which, however, need to be compounded +and reconciled in a single resultant, in order to the true highest +effect from either. For neither classicism nor romanticism alone +concludes the ultimate theory of literature. + +Classicism criticises; romanticism creates. Classicism enjoins +self-control; romanticism encourages self-indulgence. Classicism is +mold; romanticism is matter. Classicism is art; romanticism is nature. +Classicism is law; romanticism is life. Romanticism is undoubtedly first +and indispensable; but so, not less, classicism is indispensable, though +second. Neither, in short, can get along without the other. But Victor +Hugo represents romanticism. + +Victor Hugo's personality seems to have been a literary force almost as +much as was his genius. As his quantity was immense, so his quality was +vivific. Such a man was certain to be not only the master of a school +but the center of a worship. Mr. Swinburne's late volume on Victor Hugo +may be cited in extreme example of the deific ascription rendered by +many at the shrine of this idolatry. Mr. Matthew Arnold, on the other +hand, lost no opportunity to flout with indignity the claims of Victor +Hugo to his supreme literary godship. + +This great French writer has so recently died that, for the purposes of +this book, he might almost be considered still living. At any rate, he +has of late been so much talked about in current periodicals; he is, in +some of his books, so freshly familiar to all, and, if we must say it, +he offers a subject so perplexing to treat at this moment judicially, +that we shall in some measure avoid responsibility by presenting him +here with the utmost brevity--brevity, however, to be taken rather as a +homage, than as a slight, to the unmanageable greatness by imminency of +his merit and his fame. + +Victor-Marie Hugo wrote verse very early, beginning as a classicist. In +later youth he was royalist and religious in spirit. At twenty he +acquired the title of "the sublime boy." How he acquired this title +seems a matter of doubt. It is generally supposed to have been given by +Chateaubriand, in his quality of patriarch of French letters. But this +origin of the sobriquet the present writer has seen seriously suggested +to be, along with the sobriquet itself, the pure invention of Victor +Hugo's own imaginative egotism; which fruitful source of autobiography +is said also to have yielded the poet's noble pedigree--the process of +production employed on his part being, in the latter case, the extremely +simple one of adopting for ancestry the ancient line of a family, +bearing the same name indeed with himself, but otherwise utterly +unrelated to his own humble house. The really extraordinary independence +of fact with which Victor Hugo undoubtedly made his assertions +respecting himself renders any testimony that he bears on this point +interesting as imagination rather than instructive as history. For three +or four years now he was an irrepressible producer and publisher of +verse. At twenty-five he put out his "Cromwell," a drama, with a +belligerent preface in favor of romanticism. After this each play of his +was a battle for that literary cause. His "Hernani" (1830) was at last +more than a battle--it was a victory. + +The royalist in due time became republican. When Louis Napoleon was +president, Victor Hugo opposed him. When Louis Napoleon made himself +emperor, Victor Hugo denounced him. Banished for this from France, the +poet betook himself to Belgium. Repelled from Belgium, he found refuge +in England. Here, or, more exactly, in the island of Jersey first, and +longer, afterward, in the island of Guernsey, he remained till the +second empire fell. He then returned to Paris, and shared the melancholy +fortunes of that beleaguered capital during the Prussian siege and +during the anarchy of the Commune. Here, finally, he died, and, by his +own will and testament, in a quite other than the original meaning of +that pregnant Scripture phrase, "was buried"--for his funeral was to be +attended with peculiar obsequies. He signified his wish to be treated in +burial exactly as one of those paupers of whose cause he had been in his +works the life-long champion. + +During his long exile, which, notwithstanding his passionate love of +Paris, he refused to shorten by any understanding arrived at with the +emperor, he kept persecuting that usurper with printed diatribes, both +in prose and in verse, which for mordant bitterness have probably never +been surpassed in the literature of invective. One of these diatribes +was a book entitled "The History of a Crime." To this he prefixed a kind +of _imprimatur_ of his own, which may be quoted here as well +exemplifying the high oracular style of expression characterized by +short sentences and short paragraphs--these often of a single sentence +only--that he habitually affected: + + This work is more than opportune. It is imperative. I publish it. + + V. H. + +Victor Hugo's egotism was so vast that it was insane if it was not +sublime. To exemplify adequately this statement by extracts would ask +pages of room. The four lines about to follow, from one of his longer +poems, present a modest and moderate example. The poet has been +supposing the impossible case that the Supreme Being should take +different views, in a certain matter, from his, the poet's, own--that he +should outrage his, the poet's, sense of moral propriety. Here is how, +in that case, Victor Hugo would, he declares, deal with offending Deity +(we translate literally the original Alexandrines, line for line, +without attempting to reproduce either meter or rhyme): + + I would go, I would see him, and I would seize him, + Amid the heavens, as one takes a wolf amid the woods, + And, terrible, indignant, calm, extraordinary, + I would denounce him with his own thunder. + +To Victor Hugo himself, the foregoing was not blasphemy; it was simply +sublimity of a sort suitable to the character of the poet. There was, it +is said, fully developed mental unsoundness in his father's family and +in his own. Victor Hugo's own genius had, we suspect, some trace of a +real, though noble, insanity in it. + +In 1862, appeared "Les Miserables," which must be accounted, if not the +greatest, at least the most popular work of its author. This book was +issued simultaneously in eight different cities and in nine different +languages--a circumstance probably not paralleled in the history of +literature. The fame of "Les Miserables" does not fade, and it hardly +will fade. It is a book of truly prodigious elemental power. That, +however, Victor Hugo's genius in producing it worked with some +disturbing consciousness of a theory of literary art to be exemplified +and defended, the following curious note, inserted in the midst of the +text, at a point of interest in the story, may serve to show: + + Then the poor old man began sobbing and soliloquizing; _for it is a + mistake to suppose that there is no soliloquy in nature. Powerful + agitations often talk aloud._ + +"Les Miserables" is justly open to many strictures, both on literary +grounds and on ethical; but it must be pronounced, notwithstanding, a +great, and, on the whole, a noble work. + +Victor Hugo made this approach to the illimitable in power, that he was +well-nigh equally able to do great things and to do small. To exhibit by +specimen his achievement in verse we shall offer here a few of his small +things, in the impossibility of representing his great. The small things +that we offer may acquire a value extrinsic to themselves if thought of +as the gentle play of a giant who could with the same ease have +astonished you by exhibitions of strength. + +Victor Hugo went a second time, having once failed, to intercede with +King Louis Philippe on behalf of a political offender condemned to +death. It was late at night, and the monarch could not be seen. The +intercessor would not be baffled, and, bethinking himself to appeal by +the tenderness of birth and of death to the king, wrote four lines of +verse which he left on the table. The allusions in them are to a lovely +daughter of the royal house just lost and to a little son just born. We +give the French text, and follow it with a close English translation: + + Par votre ange envolée ainsi qu'une colombe, + Par ce royal enfant doux et frèle roseau, + Grace encore une fois! grace au nom de la tombe! + Grace au nom du berceau! + + By your lost angel, dove-like from you flown, + By this sweet royal babe, fair, fragile reed, + Mercy once more! Be mercy, mercy shown, + In the tomb's name, and cradle's, both, I plead. + +The poet's plea availed. + +Another little gem of Victor Hugo's is the following quatrain, which, +though it may have had at first some particular occasion, is capable of +the most general application. Again we give the French, for the French +here almost translates itself: + + Soyons comme l'oiseau posé pour un instant + Sur des rameaux trop frêles; + Qui sent trembler la branche, mais qui chant pourtant, + Sachant qu'il a des ailes. + +This may be thus rendered, almost word for word: + + Like the bird let us be, for one moment alight + Upon branches too frail to uphold, + Who feels tremble the bough, but who sings in despite, + Knowing well she has wings to unfold. + +One more little gem from Victor Hugo's treasury of such we are happily +able to present in a version whose authorship will commend it; Mr. +Andrew Lang translates "The Grave and the Rose." The poet here affirms, +as he is very fond of doing, that capital article in his creed, the +immortality of the soul: + + The Grave said to the Rose, + "What of the dews of morn, + Love's flower, what end is theirs?" + "And what of souls outworn, + Of them whereon doth close + The tomb's mouth unawares?" + The Rose said to the Grave. + + The Rose said, "In the shade + From the dawn's tears is made + A perfume faint and strange, + Amber and honey sweet." + "And all the spirits fleet + Do suffer a sky-change + More strangely than the dew-- + To God's own angels new," + The Grave said to the Rose. + +The majesty with which this great Frenchman would sometimes, in prose, +condescend to be an acrobat walking the tight-rope of grandiloquence +stretched over a bottomless abyss of the ridiculous, is well shown in +his monograph on Shakespeare. This is accessible in a scholarlike +English translation (A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, publishers) by +Melville B. Anderson. The following sentences will indicate what it is. +No one familiar with Victor Hugo can doubt that the great presence of +HIMSELF, the writer, was really the chief thing in his musing eye, when, +in the latter part of this extract, he was ostensibly describing and +vindicating romanticist Shakespeare: + + Shakespeare, shuddering, has within himself winds, spirits, magic + potions, vibrations; he sways in the passing breeze, obscure + effluences pervade him, he is filled with the unknown sap of life. + Thence his agitation, at the core of which is peace. It is this + agitation which is lacking in Goethe, wrongly praised for his + impassiveness, which is inferiority. All minds of the first order have + this agitation. It is in Job, in Æschylus, in Alighieri. This + agitation is humanity.... It seems at times as if Shakespeare + terrified Shakespeare. He shudders at his own depth. This is the sign + of supreme intelligence. It is his own vastness which shakes him and + imparts to him strange and mighty oscillations. There is no genius + without billows. An intoxicated savage, it may be. He has the savagery + of the virgin forest; he has the intoxication of the high sea. + +"He shudders at his own depth"--hardly could we resist the temptation to +bracket in "[Victor Hugo]" after the pronoun "he." Every reader should +do this mentally for himself; he otherwise will miss that important part +of the true sense, which here is written between the lines. There never +was genius with more inseparable, unescapable, tyrannizing consciousness +of itself. You feel the personality even more than you feel the genius +in reading Victor Hugo. + +A considerable part of Victor Hugo's prose production, mostly fiction, +has been translated into English. Messrs. T. Y. Crowell & Co. publish +six portly volumes in a uniform edition. From "Les Miserables" in this +series we make extracts which will briefly represent Victor Hugo's prose +at its very best, alike in style, in thought, and in spirit. In the +first, the writer gives utterance to reflections inspired by the final +event of the battle of Waterloo: + + This vertigo, this terror, this downfall into ruin of the loftiest + bravery which ever astounded history--is that causeless? No. The + shadow of an enormous right is projected athwart Waterloo. It is the + day of destiny. The force which is mightier than man produced that + day. Hence the terrified wrinkle of those brows; hence all those great + souls surrendering their swords. Those who have conquered Europe have + fallen prone on the earth, with nothing left to say or to do, feeling + the present shadow of a terrible presence. _Hoc erat in fatis._ That + day the perspective of the human race underwent a change. Waterloo is + the hinge of the nineteenth century. The disappearance of the great + man was necessary to the advent of the great century. Some one, a + person to whom one replies not, took the responsibility on himself. + The panic of heroes can be explained. In the battle of Waterloo there + is something more than a cloud, there is something of the meteor. God + has passed by. + +In the second, Victor Hugo contrasts the two leaders, the conqueror and +the conquered, of that momentous day: + + Waterloo is the strangest encounter in history. Napoleon and + Wellington. They are not enemies; they are opposites. Never did God, + who is fond of antitheses, make a more striking contrast, a more + extraordinary comparison. On one side, precision, foresight, geometry, + prudence, an assured retreat, reserves spared, with an obstinate + coolness, an imperturbable method, strategy, which takes advantage of + the ground, tactics, which preserve the equilibrium of batallions, + carnage, executed according to rule, war regulated, watch in hand, + nothing voluntarily left to chance, the ancient classic courage, + absolute regularity; on the other intuition, divination, military + oddity, superhuman instinct, a flaming glance, an indescribable + something which gazes like an eagle, and which strikes like the + lightning, a prodigious art in disdainful impetuosity, all the + mysteries of a profound soul, association with destiny; the stream, + the plain, the forest, the hill, summoned, and in a manner, forced to + obey, the despot going even so far as to tyrannize over the field of + battle; faith in a star mingled with strategic science, elevating but + perturbing it. Wellington was the Barême of war; Napoleon was its + Michael Angelo; and on this occasion genius was vanquished by + calculation. On both sides some one was awaited. It was the exact + calculator who succeeded. Napoleon was waiting for Grouchy; he did + not come. Wellington expected Blücher; he came. + +It remains only to exemplify, as best in small space we can, Victor +Hugo's portentous, his terrific, power in working up a tragic situation, +and displaying it as in a calcium-light of intense imaginative +description or narration. We shall then feel that this Titanic figure in +French literature is at least by suggestive partial glimpses fairly +before our readers. From "Les Miserables," we take the following +passage, introduced by the original author as a first step only in the +climax by which he represents the supreme agony of his hero in a great +crisis of his life: + + It sometimes happens that on certain shores of Bretagne or Scotland a + man, traveler or fisherman, while walking at low tide on the beach, + far from shore, suddenly notices that for several minutes past he has + been walking with some difficulty. The beach under foot is like pitch; + his soles stick fast to it; it is no longer sand, it is bird-lime.... + + The man pursues his way, he walks on, turns toward the land, endeavors + to approach the shore. He is not uneasy. Uneasy about what? Only he is + conscious that the heaviness of his feet seems to be increasing at + every step that he takes. All at once he sinks in. He sinks in two or + three inches. Decidedly, he is not on the right road: he halts to get + his bearings. Suddenly he glances at his feet; his feet have + disappeared. The sand has covered them. He draws his feet out of the + sand, he tries to retrace his steps, he turns back, he sinks in more + deeply than before. The sand is up to his ankles, he tears himself + free from it and flings himself to the left, the sand reaches to + mid-leg, he flings himself to the right, the sand comes up to his + knees. Then, with indescribable terror, he recognizes the fact that he + is caught in a quicksand.... + + He shouts, he waves his hat, or his handkerchief, the sand continually + gains on him.... He is condemned to that terrible interment, long, + infallible, implacable, which it is impossible to either retard or + hasten, which lasts for hours, which will not come to an end, which + seizes you erect, free, in the flush of health, which drags you down + by the feet, which, at every effort that you attempt, at every shout + that you utter, draws you a little lower, which has the air of + punishing you for your resistance by a redoubled grasp, which forces a + man to return slowly to earth, while leaving him time to survey the + horizon, the trees, the verdant country, the smoke of the villages on + the plain, the sails of the ships on the sea, the birds which fly and + sing, the sun and the sky.... The wretched man ... shrieks, implores, + cries to the clouds, wrings his hands, grows desperate. Behold him in + sand up to his belly, the sand reaches to his breast, he is only a + bust now. He uplifts his hands, utters furious groans, clenches his + nails on the beach, tries to cling fast to that ashes, supports + himself on his elbows in order to raise himself from that soft sheath, + and sobs frantically; the sand mounts higher. The sand has reached his + shoulders, the sand reaches to his throat; only his face is visible + now. His mouth cries aloud, the sand fills it; silence. His eyes still + gaze forth, the sand closes them; night. Then his brow decreases, a + little hair quivers above the sand; a hand projects, pierces the + surface of the beach, waves, and disappears. Sinister obliteration of + a man! + +Victor Hugo's hero was involved thus in a quicksand--but the quicksand +in his case was underground, and dark as Erebus; it was a quicksand +composed of the unspeakable foulness and fetor of a cess-pool--he was +wading up to his very chin in the noisome Styx of the great Paris sewer. +All this to rescue, upborne in his arms above his head, a man +unconscious, perhaps already dead from wounds received, and a man whom +he, the rescuer, hated. There is Victor Hugo for you, Victor Hugo in his +glory. For the glory of Victor Hugo as novelist is in climaxes of agony, +lashed together and reared like an endless ladder reaching to heaven. +This his strength is his weakness. All is said that need be said in +hostile criticism of Victor Hugo's writings, when it is said that he is +always to the last degree egotistic and to the last degree theatric. +Effect is every thing, truth nothing, with him. + +That Victor Hugo willed to be buried exactly like a pauper did not +prevent the occurrence of certain very important contrasts between his +obsequies and the rites of an ordinary pauper funeral; perhaps, indeed, +such a will on his part contributed to create the difference which at +all events existed. The funeral attendance was said to be the most +numerous ever seen in France. A million spectators were present. Three +large wagons headed the procession filled with floral gifts. A beautiful +diadem of Irish lilies was contributed by Tennyson, inscribed "To the +World's Greatest Poet." + +The French apotheosis of a national idol would not be complete without +tribute from the theater. Accordingly, the Theâtre Français produced a +drama by M. Rénan entitled "_Mort_," in which the shades of Corneille, +Racine, Boileau, Voltaire, and Diderot hold a dialogue about human +progress in the century to follow them, and, Corneille asking, "What +poet will sing in that era, as sweet and tender as Racine, as logical as +Boileau, as clear in style as Voltaire," the genius of the age lyrically +answers, "Hugo," at the same time placing a crown on Hugo's bust. + +Victor Hugo the man, especially as he mellowed with old age, was a +sunny, sweet, benignant nature. He was a hearty, one might almost say a +partisan, believer in God--atheism was so offensive to him. +Unfortunately, however, Victor Hugo's theism was not such as to enforce +departure, in his own personal practice, from that deplorable tradition +of his country which has rendered so many distinguished French authors, +from the earliest to the latest, offenders against the laws of marriage +and of chastity. + + +2. SAINTE-BEUVE. + +Sainte-Beuve is an instance of the half-malicious sportiveness of nature +or of fortune. What he chiefly desired was the fame of a poet. What he +chiefly got was the fame of a critic. But Sainte-Beuve's fame as a +critic was far more in fact, if far less to his mind, than any fame that +he could have achieved as a poet. In poetry, he never could have risen +higher than to be a poet of the second or of the third rank. He is +admitted to be a critic of the first rank. Nay, in the opinion of many, +Sainte-Beuve constitutes a rank by himself, having no peers. + +Sainte-Beuve's range of subjects was very wide. He exercised himself to +be equally open and fair toward all schools of taste and of opinion +alike. At the outset, he was of the coterie of the romanticists. But he +soon broke with these, either personally repelled by antipathies, or +else unconsciously attracted by a secret sympathy of his own, too strong +for his contrary will to resist, toward the classical standards +respesented in the seventeenth-century writers. He never seems to feel +himself more entirely in his element than when he is appreciating the +literature of the French golden age. + +As to religion, Sainte-Beuve, having had his phase of pietism even, +ended by becoming a blank unbeliever. But his own antipathetic personal +attitude of intellect and of heart toward Christianity he would not in +the least allow to disturb the urbanity and serenity of his tolerance +for the most orthodox Christian writers. Such, at any rate, was his +standard and ideal. + +But at this point, as at all points, the complaisance of Sainte-Beuve's +writing is a manner with him, rather than a spirit. It does not +penetrate deeply. He loves his "insinuations." That is his own word. He +is willing to write a whole essay in criticism for the sake of the +"insinuations" which his deceitful blandness will sheathe. Or, rather, +he would sooner give up the whole essay than forego a phrase, or perhaps +a single word, containing his insinuation. It was partly his critical +conscience, no doubt, instinctively nice about shades of opinion and of +expression; but then a something very like malice was mingled with his +critical conscience. With all that must be conceded to the value of +Sainte-Beuve's critical work, readers are conscious, in concluding the +perusal of almost any one of his essays, that the result to them is a +sapor remaining on their literary palate, rather than substance of +nutriment entered into their mental digestion. Their food has been +refined into a flavor. + +For our illustration of Sainte-Beuve, we go to a paper of his on +Bossuet. But we need to prepare our readers. Sainte-Beuve is a writer +for the few, instead of for the many. To profit from him requires some +effort of attention. One must study a little, as well as simply read. +Sainte-Beuve does not deal in heavy strokes. His lines are most of them +fine, many of them hair-lines vanishing almost into invisibility. He +escapes you like Proteus. Very different is he, by this elusive quality +of his, from his countryman, M. Taine, whose bold crayon sketches are at +once appreciable to all. + +In the choice indicated of specimen, we draw from a series of short +criticisms which the author called _Causeries du Lundi_; "Monday-Chats," +Mr. William Matthews, who has a volume of select translations from them, +not unhappily renders the title. These were originally published as +Monday articles in the columns of two Paris journals, the +_Constitutionel_ and the _Moniteur_. Mr. Matthews's volume is introduced +by a most readable biographical sketch and literary appreciation of +Sainte-Beuve himself from the pen of the translator. M. Sainte-Beuve, we +ought to say, in addition to his very considerable body of criticism, +ranging, as we have intimated, over a wide field of literature, wrote an +extended historical monograph on Port Royal, which is constantly +referred to by writers as an authority on its subject. + +The critic characterizes his subject broadly by his most commanding +traits: + + The simple idea of order, of authority, of unity, of the continual + government of Providence, Bossuet, among the moderns, has grasped more + completely than any other man, and he applies it on all occasions + without effort, and, as it were, by an irrefutable deduction. Bossuet + is the Hebrew genius, expanded, fecundated by Christianity, and open + to all the gains of the human intelligence, but acknowledging + something of sovereign interdiction, and closing its vast horizon + precisely at the point where its light ceases. In mien and in tone he + resembles a Moses; there are mingled in his speech traits + characteristic of the Prophet-King, touches of a pathos ardent and + sublime; there sounds the voice eloquent by eminence, the simplest, + the strongest, the most abrupt, the most familiar, the most suddenly + outbursting in thunder. Even where he holds his course unbending, in + an imperious flood, he bears along with him treasures of eternal human + morality. And it is by all these qualities that he is for us a unique + man, and that, whatever may be the employment he makes of his speech, + he remains the model of eloquence the most exalted, and of language + the most beautiful. + +Sainte-Beuve is so much a critic that he cannot help criticising by the +way, or even sometimes perhaps a little out of the way. But it will be +quite to our purpose if we admit here what Sainte-Beuve incidentally +says of Lamartine: + + [Bossuet] was early distinguished for surprising gifts of memory and + of understanding. He knew Virgil by heart, as, a little later, he knew + Homer. "Less easy to understand is it," says M. de Lamartine, "_how + he was infatuated all his life_ with the Latin poet, Horace, spirit + exquisite, but the reverse of spontaneous and natural, who strings his + lyre with only the softest fibers of the heart; a careless + voluptuary," etc. M. de Lamartine, who has so well discerned the great + features of the eloquence and of the talent of Bossuet, has studied a + little too lightly his life, and he has here proposed to himself a + difficulty which does not exist; there is nowhere mention made in fact + of that _inexplicable predilection_ of Bossuet for Horace, _the least + divine of all the poets_. M. de Lamartine must have inadvertently read + "Horace" instead of "Homer." ... It was Fénelon (and not Bossuet) who + read and relished Horace more than any other poet, who knew him by + heart.... The great pagan preference of Bossuet (if one may use such + an expression) was quite naturally for Homer; after him for Virgil; + Horace, in his judgment and in his liking, came far behind them. But + the book by eminence which gave early direction to the genius and to + the entire career of Bossuet, and which dominated all within him, was + the Bible; it is said that the first time he read it he was + illuminated and transported by it. He had found in it the source + whence his own genius was destined to flow, like one of the four great + rivers in Genesis. + +Sainte-Beuve speaks of the relation of the Hotel de Rambouillet to the +future great man: + + The young Bossuet was conducted thither one evening to preach there an + improvised sermon. In lending himself to these singular exercises and + to these tournaments where his person and his gifts were challenged, + treated as an intellectual virtuoso in the salons of the Hôtel de + Rambouillet and the Hôtel de Nevers, it does not appear that Bossuet + was in consequence subjected to the slightest charge of vanity, and + there is no example of a precocious genius so praised, caressed by the + world, and remaining so perfectly exempt from all self-love and from + all coquetry. + +In the following passage, Sainte-Beuve appreciates, not without +insinuated criticism, the younger eloquence of Bossuet the preacher. +Conceive this atheist critic, for such in effect Sainte-Beuve was, +entering into the spirit of the orthodox Christian, exclusively for the +purpose of justly judging and enjoying a strain of pulpit eloquence! But +that is Sainte-Beuve: + + When he portrays to us Jesus purposing to clothe himself with a flesh + like our own, and when he sets forth the motives for this according to + the Scriptures, with what bold relief and what saliency he does it! He + exhibits that Saviour who above all seeks out misery and distress, + shunning to take on the angelic nature which would have exempted him + from this, leaping over, in some sense, and tasking himself to pursue, + to _apprehend_ wretched human nature, precisely because it is + wretched, clinging to it and running after it, although it flies from + him, although it recoils from being assumed by him; aiming to secure + for himself real human flesh, real human blood, with the qualities and + the weaknesses of our own, and that for what reason? _In order to be + compassionate._ Although in all this Bossuet only makes use of the + terms of the Apostle and perhaps of those of Chrysostom, he employs + them with a delight, a luxury, a gust for reduplication, which + bespeaks vivacious youth: "He has," says the apostle, "_apprehended_ + human nature; it flew away, it would have nothing of the Saviour; what + did he do? He ran after it with headlong speed, leaping over the + mountains, that is to say, the ranks of the angels.... He ran like a + giant, with great strides and immeasurable, passing in a moment from + heaven to earth.... There he overtook that fugitive nature; he seized + it, he apprehended it, body and soul." Let us study the youthful + eloquence of Bossuet, even in his risks of taste, as one studies the + youthful poetry of the great Corneille. + +Sainte-Beuve cannot let Lamartine alone. In the clause following, +italicized by us, our readers are to recognize an irony on the part of +the critic: + + M. de Lamartine, who, _with that second sight which is granted to + poets_, knew how to see Bossuet distinctly as he was when young, etc. + +Having quoted, with significant italics disposed here and there, a +highly realistic imaginary picture of the youthful Bossuet from the hand +of Lamartine, Sainte-Beuve says: + + Here is a primitive Bossuet much toned down and mollified, so it seems + to me, a Bossuet drawn very much at will, to resemble Jocelyn and + Fénelon, in order that it may be said afterward [by Lamartine]: "The + soul evidently in this great man was of one temper, and the genius of + another. Nature had made him tender; dogma had made him hard." I do + not believe in this contradiction in Bossuet, a nature having the most + perfect harmony, and the least at war with itself, that we know. But + what for me is not less certain is, that the illustrious biographer + [Lamartine] here treats literary history absolutely as history is + treated in an historical romance; there you lightly invent your + character, where your information fails, or where dramatic interest + demands it. And without refusing the praise which certain ingenious + and delicate touches of this portrait merit, I will permit myself to + ask more seriously: Is it proper, is it becoming, thus to paint + Bossuet as a youth, to fondle thus with the brush, as one would a + Greek dancing-woman or a beautiful child of the English aristocracy, + him who never ceased to grow under the shadow of the temple, that + serious youth who gave promise of the simple great man, all genius and + all eloquence? Far, far from him [Bossuet] these fondlings and these + physiological feats of a brush which amuses itself with carmine and + with veins.... + +You feel, with regard to the foregoing criticism, that it is as just as +it is penetrative. Lamartine fairly provoked it. + +Here is a trait of Bossuet's that pertained remarkably also to Daniel +Webster: + + Bossuet is not one of those ingenious men of talent who have the art + of treating commonplace subjects excellently, and of introducing into + them foreign materials; but let the subject presented to him be vast, + lofty, majestic, he is at his ease, and, the higher the theme, the + more is he equal to its demands, on his proper plane, and in his + element. + +The Abbé Maury is a critic belonging to the classical school of French +literature. His best-known work is a treatise on pulpit eloquence. La +Harpe is another critic of the same class with Maury, who has a +considerable work, historical and critical, devoted to French literature +in general. To these two writers Sainte-Beuve makes instructive allusion +in the following passage: + + Two opinions found expression when the Sermons of Bossuet were first + published, in 1772; I have already indicated that of the Abbé Maury, + who placed these sermons above everything else of that kind which the + French pulpit had produced; the other opinion, which was that of La + Harpe, and which I have known to be shared since by other sensible + men, was less enthusiastic and showed itself more sensitive to the + inequalities and to the discordances of tone. It would be possible to + justify both of these opinions, with the understanding that the first + should triumph in the end, and that the genius of Bossuet, there as + elsewhere, should keep the first rank. It is very true that, read + continuously, without any notice of the age of the writer, and of the + place and circumstances of their composition, some of these discourses + of Bossuet may offend or surprise minds that love to dwell upon the + more uniform and more exact continuity of Bourdaloue or of Massillon. + +Victor Cousin is one among the somewhat numerous writers who, within the +bounds of this same paper on Bossuet, fall under the touch of +Sainte-Beauve's critical lance, that weapon borne ever in rest and ready +for any encounter: + + A great writer of our days, M. Cousin ... has been disposed once more + to despoil Louis XIV. of his highest glory in order to carry it all + back to the epoch preceding. M. Cousin has a convenient method of + exaggerating and aggrandizing the objects of his admiration: he + degrades or depresses their surroundings. It is thus that, to exalt + Corneille, in whom he sees Æschylus, Sophocles, all the Greek tragic + poets united, he sacrifices and diminishes Racine; it is thus that, in + order the better to celebrate the epoch of Louis XIII. and of the + regency which followed, he depresses the reign of Louis XIV. + +It is Sainte-Beuve's specialty--in aim, whether in achievement or +not--to be without the tendency thus charged upon M. Cousin, to violate +proportion in his criticism. The insinuating delicacy of his adverse, or +at least disparaging, critical judgment toward a distinguished +contemporary author is well exemplified in the following passage, in +which the critic, by his instinct as critic, is irresistibly drawn to +make a return to Cousin. The wise reader familiar with Mr. Matthew +Arnold will see how exactly the latter caught from his French master the +trick of method here displayed: + + Ah, I cannot refrain from expressing another thought. When M. Cousin + speaks so at his ease of Louis XIV., of Louis XIII., and of Richelieu, + confidently attributing superiority to that which he prefers and which + he thinks resembles him, I am astonished that he has never once asked + himself this question: "What would have been the gain, what the loss + to my own talent, this talent which is daily compared with that of the + writers of the great age--what would have been gained or lost to that + admirable talent" (I forget that it is he that is speaking) "if I had + had to write or to discourse, were it but for a few years, in the very + presence of Louis XIV., that is to say, of that royal good sense, + calm, sober, and august? And that which I should have thus gained or + lost, in my vivacity and my eloquence, would it not have been + precisely that which it lacks in the way of gravity, of proportion, of + propriety, of perfect justice, and, consequently, of true authority?" + +Lamartine does not escape still another light thrust from this dangerous +delicate lance, aimed yet again, with exquisite accuracy, through an +unquestionable joint in the victim's harness: + + "These two rivals in eloquence," says M. de Lamartine, speaking of + Bossuet and of Bourdaloue, "were passionately compared. _To the shame + of the time_, the number of Bourdaloue's admirers surpassed in a short + time that of the enthusiastic devotees of Bossuet. The reason of this + preference for a cold argumentation above a sublime eloquence lies in + the nature of human things. The men of middling stature have more + resemblance to their age than the giants have to their contemporaries. + The orators who deal in argument are more easily comprehended by the + multitude than the orators who are fired with enthusiasm; one must + have wings to follow the lyric orator." ... This theory, invented + expressly to give the greatest glory to the _lyric orators_ and to the + giants, is here at fault. M. de Bausset, author of a work on Bossuet, + has remarked, on the contrary, as a kind of singularity, that it never + entered any man's head at that time to consider Bossuet and Bourdaloue + as subject of comparison, and to weigh in the balance their merit and + their genius, as was so often done in the case of Corneille and of + Racine; or, at least, if they were compared, it was but very seldom. + To the honor and not to the shame of the time, the public taste and + sentiment took note of the difference. Bossuet, in the higher sphere + of the episcopate, remained the oracle, the doctor, a modern Father of + the Church, the great orator, who appeared on funeral and majestic + occasions; who sometimes re-appeared in the pulpit at the monarch's + request, or to solemnize the assemblies of the clergy, leaving on each + occasion an overpowering and ineffaceable recollection of his + eloquence. Meanwhile Bourdaloue continued to be for the age the usual + preacher by eminence, the one who gave a connected course of lectures + on moral and practical Christianity, and who distributed the daily + bread in its most wholesome form to all the faithful. Bossuet has said + somewhere, in one of his sermons: "If it were not better suited to the + dignity of this pulpit to regard the maxims of the Gospel as + indubitable than to prove them by reasoning, how easily could I show + you," etc. There, where Bossuet would have suffered from stooping and + subjecting himself to too long a course of proof and to a continuous + argumentation, Bourdaloue, who had not the same impatience of genius, + was, beyond doubt, an apostolic workman who was more efficient in the + long run, and better fitted for his task by his constancy. The age in + which both appeared had the merit to make this distinction, and to + appreciate each of them without opposing one to the other; and to-day + those who glory in this opposition, and who so easily crush Bourdaloue + with Bossuet, the man of talent with the man of genius, because they + think they are conscious themselves of belonging to the family of + geniuses, too easily forget that this Christian eloquence was designed + to edify and to nourish still more than to please or to subdue. + +The "bright consummate flower" of Bossuet's eloquence is to be found in +his Funeral Discourses. Of one of these, Sainte-Beuve, with a sudden +sympathetic swell of kindred eloquence in description, speaks, in a +passage with quotation from which we close our exemplifications of this +famous critic: + + The death of the Queen of England came to offer him (1669) the + grandest and most majestic of themes. He needed the fall and the + restoration of thrones, the revolution of empires, all the varied + fortunes assembled in a single life, and weighing upon one and the + same head; the eagle needed the vast depth of the heavens, and, below, + all the abysses and the storms of the ocean. + +It has been to us some satisfaction that the wrong of distortion by +reduction in scale done to the majestic figure of Bossuet in our own +treatment of him, and unavoidable there, could thus in a measure be +redressed by return to the subject in effective quotation from +Sainte-Beuve. Looking back on the extracts preceding, we feel that +enough is expressed, or suggested, in them, to justify us in saying, +There is Bossuet. + +But at any rate we have great confidence in saying, There is +Sainte-Beuve. + + +3. BALZAC. + +Honoré de Balzac is one of the heroes of literature. He set himself +labors of Hercules in literary production, and he toiled at his tasks of +will with a tireless tenacity little less than sublime. The moral +spectacle of such courageous industry in Balzac, the present writer +admires, not the less, but the more, that the intellectual achievement +resulting seems to him not commensurately great. Balzac's long "toil and +endeavor" was not leavened and lightened and turned into play by that +"reflex of unimpeded energy" in him which a lofty philosopher has +defined happiness to be. He did his work hardly--with profuse sweat of +his brow. His mind did not answer to that definition of genius which +makes it a faculty of lighting its own fires. His fires Balzac lighted +with late hours, artificial illumination, strong stimulant drinks. He +burned himself out early in life--comparatively early, that is to say; +he died at fifty-one. + +The moral triumph of Balzac we have but half suggested. Not only did he +lack the spontaneous joy of genius at work; he lacked also, for many +and many a doubtful year, the encouragement of recognition and success. +Book after book of his failed, and still he toiled on. The world was +fairly conquered at last. The reverse of Tulliver's experience happened +with Balzac. One man, in his case, proved "too many" for the world. + +For his own part, he freely confesses, the present writer not only +admires; he wonders. Balzac's novels do not please him, either as +products of genius or as works of art. They please him solely as +monuments of victorious labor. They have to his mind exactly the quality +that was to have been expected from the history of their production. +They smell of oil, they smack of sweat. They are full of stimulated, +rather than stimulating, thought. So much as one passage in which +imagination played its magnificent play in easy and easily perfect +creation, one passage in which the words flowed of themselves, and did +not come each pumped with a several stroke of author's will, he cannot +remember ever to have found in Balzac. He wonders, therefore, and +helplessly wonders, that Balzac should be esteemed, as he is, and that +by some good judges, one of the greatest writers in the world. + +What Balzac undertook was to write the whole "human tale of this wide +world"--that is, to represent in fiction all the manifold phases and +aspects of human life and character. He calls the entire series of his +novels "The Human Comedy." This title, we have seen it stated, was not +original with Balzac, but was adopted by him at the suggestion of a +friend who hit upon it as a kind of balance and contrast to Dante's +expression, "Divine Comedy." It is not quite a cynic conception of human +character and human destiny that Balzac intended thus to express. Still, +on the other hand, his view of human nature and human life cannot be +said to be genial. The disagreeable preponderates in his fiction--the +disagreeable one must call it, rather than the tragic. For true tragedy +there is not height enough. In reading Balzac, you breathe for the most +part an atmosphere of the not merely common, but--vulgar. Of course, the +novelist himself would have said, Very well, such is man, and such is +life. This one need not deny, but one can say, It was at least not +desirable that readers should be obliged to feel the novelist to be +himself vulgar, along with his characters. There is such a thing as +refined dealing with people not refined. + +Realism was Balzac's aim, and realism was the rock on which Balzac +suffered double shipwreck. In seeking to be realistic, he became vulgar; +and in seeking to be realistic, he became unreal. For there is an air of +unreality diffused everywhere over the pages, meant to be realistic or +nothing, of this voluminous writer. Balzac evolved the personages of his +fiction out of his own consciousness. They are none of them human +beings, such as you meet in the real world. They are _simulacra_, +images, bodiless projections, of the author's own mind. They move over +his canvas like the specters thrown by the magic-lantern on its screen. + +Balzac and Dickens are sometimes paralleled. There certainly is in a +number of particulars a superficial resemblance between them. Both +undertake to be realists. Both concern themselves chiefly with people of +the average sort--sort, perhaps, even tending toward the vulgar. Both +exaggerate to a degree that makes them at times almost caricaturists. +Both deal abundantly in minute detail of description. But the contrast +too between them is great. Balzac is far less spontaneous than Dickens. +You feel that Dickens improvises. You never feel this about Balzac. You +can hear Balzac drive his Pegasus with shout and with lash. Dickens's +Pegasus often flies with his bit between his teeth. Dickens was an +observer of men and of things--of books, a student never; there is +perhaps scarcely another instance in nineteenth-century literature of an +author who owed so little as did Dickens to study of books. From books, +on the other hand, Balzac purveyed a large share of his material. +Dickens writes as if unconscious that a race of men like the critics +existed. Balzac writes in view of the critics. These in fact seem to be +his audience quite as much as do the general public. Balzac, beginning +that novel of his from which we are presently to draw our sole brief +extract to exhibit his manner, enters, according to a fashion of his, +upon an elaborate unnecessary description of the house in which the +scene of his action is laid. But he prefaces thus: + + Before describing this house, it may be well, in the interest of other + writers, to explain the necessity for such didactic preliminaries, + since they have raised a protest from certain ignorant and voracious + readers who want emotions without undergoing the generating process, + the flower without the seed, the child without gestation. Is Art + supposed to have higher powers than Nature? + +Such a sentence as that--prefatory, but in the body of the text, and not +in a formal preface--would have been impossible to Dickens. In Balzac, +it is the most natural thing in the world. And it discloses the secret +of the character everywhere stamped on his production. He wrote as a +professional writer. He conformed to a law that he himself imposed upon +his genius, instead of leaving his genius free to be a law to itself. A +real realist, a realist, that is to say, such by nature, and not merely +by profession, a realist like De Foe, for example, could never have +committed the offense against art of disturbing thus that very illusion +of reality which he sought to produce, by exhibiting and defending the +method adopted by him to produce it. There could not be a case imposing +more obligation on the artist to conceal his art. But Balzac, instead, +forces upon his reader the thought of art by calling its very name. + +Balzac paints with a big brush and puts on plenty of color. No one need +fear in reading him that he will miss delicate shades. There are none +such to miss. Balzac does not suggest. He speaks right out. Nay, he +insists. You shall by no means fail of understanding him. + +But, over against everything that can thus justly be said in diminution +of his worth, there remain the unalterable facts, of Balzac's great +reputation, just now looming larger than ever, of his voluminous +literary achievement, of his population of imaginary personages +projected into the world of thought, by actual count more, we believe, +than two thousand poll. There is published a portly biographical +dictionary exclusively devoted to the characters of Balzac's fiction. + +Paralyzed to choose, even to think of choosing, out of the enormous +volume of this writer's laborious production, a single page for +exemplifying his quality, we pitch desperately upon the conclusion of +that story of his called by the accomplished American translator of it, +Miss Katharine Prescott Wormeley, "The Alkahest," "The Search for the +Absolute" is the author's own title. This work, belonging in the endless +series of volumes dedicated to the display of the "comedy of human life" +in all its phases, is a novel which undertakes to illustrate the effect +on character and destiny of an exclusive supreme absorption in +scientific pursuits. The hero has at length reached the catastrophe of +his career. He is an old man who has wrecked fortune after fortune in +chemical quest of a scientific chimera, The Absolute. A monomaniac +before, he is paralytic now, and the last night of his life is slowly +passing. Balzac: + + The old man made incredible efforts to shake off the bonds of his + paralysis; he tried to speak and moved his tongue, unable to make a + sound; his flaming eyes emitted thoughts; his drawn features expressed + an untold agony; his fingers writhed in desperation; the sweat stood + in drops upon his brow. In the morning, when his children came to his + bed-side and kissed him with an affection which the sense of coming + death made day by day more ardent and more eager, he showed none of + his usual satisfaction at these signs of their tenderness. Emmanuel + [the dying man's son-in-law], instigated by the doctor, hastened to + open the newspaper, to try if the usual reading might not relieve the + inward crisis in which Balthazar was evidently struggling. As he + unfolded the sheet he saw the words, "DISCOVERY OF THE ABSOLUTE," + which startled him and he read a paragraph to Marguerite [the + daughter] concerning a sale made by a celebrated Polish mathematician + of the secret of the Absolute. Though Emmanuel read in a low voice, + and Marguerite signed to him to omit the passage, Balthazar heard it. + + Suddenly the dying man raised himself by his wrists and cast on his + frightened children a look which struck like lightning; the hairs that + fringed the bald head stirred, the wrinkles quivered, the features + were illumined with spiritual fires, a breath passed across that face + and rendered it sublime; he raised a hand, clenched in fury, and + uttered with a piercing cry the famous words of Archimedes, + "EUREKA!"--"I have found." + + He fell back upon his bed with the dull sound of an inert body, and + died, uttering an awful moan, his convulsed eyes expressing to the + last, when the doctor closed them, the regret of not bequeathing to + science the secret of an enigma whose veil was rent away--too late--by + the fleshless fingers of death. + +The reader there has Balzac at his highest and best. + +Those desirous of acquainting themselves with some integral work of this +author's will choose wisely if they choose any one of these four: "Père +Goriot," "César Birotteau," "Modeste Mignon," "The Alkahest" ("The +Search for the Absolute"). Mr. Saintsbury, a competent hand, edits a +series of translations from Balzac, including the novels just named, +together with everything else worth possessing from his industrious pen. + + +4. GEORGE SAND. + +In virile quality, Madame de Stael seemed _rediviva_, or should we keep +the more familiar masculine gender, and say _redivivus_? in George Sand. +"It only happened that she was a woman," said some one, of the latter +personage; and indeed the chance that made her such seemed half on the +point of being reversed by the choice of the subject herself. For, +besides that she has her fame permanently under a pseudonym naturally +betokening a man as its owner, it is a fact that she did, at one time, +in order to greater freedom of the world, wear man's clothes and +otherwise play the man among her Parisian fellows. This episode in her +experience doubtless helped give her that great advantage over other +women, which her genius enabled her to use to effect so surpassing, in +describing the male human being such as he himself recognizes himself to +be. + +The episode, however, was short, and George Sand is thought by her +admirers--and her admirers include some very grave and self-respecting +persons, the late Mr. Matthew Arnold being one example--never to have +parted with a certain paradoxical womanly reserve and delicacy which +ought logically to have been quite lost out of her nature through the +coarse and soiled contacts to which she herself willingly, and even +willfully, subjected it. + +But, poor George Sand! Let us never, in judging her, forget how +ill-bestead a childhood was hers, and how unhappy a marriage was +provided for her warm and passionate youth. Her life began in protest, +and protest was the early strength of her genius and her endeavor. She +protested against things as they were, and, according to her light--a +light sadly confused with misguiding cross-lights from many quarters +besides her own eager self-will--fought, and pleaded, and wept, +aspiring, hoping, believing, for an ideal world in which love should be +law; or rather an ideal world in which law should have ceased, and love +should be all. From one of the last of her innumerable books, perhaps +from the very last, Mr. Matthew Arnold translates this expression, which +he repeats as summing up the motive of her work--"the sentiment of the +ideal life, which is none other than man's normal life as we shall one +day know it." + +The word "love" does not occur in this expression, but that word and +that thought make the luminous legend over everything hers by the light +of which everything hers is to be read and interpreted. + +Of course, George Sand's "love" is not the sentiment which the apostle +Paul sings in that prose canticle of his found in the thirteenth chapter +of First Corinthians. But neither is it the purely animal passion that +base souls might understand it. The peculiar affection natural between +the sexes it indeed includes, but it includes much more. It includes all +domestic, all social affections. In short, it is love in the largest +sense. The largest sense, but not the highest. For it is love, the +indulgence, the appetite; not love, the duty, the principle. George +Sand's gospel is that you may love and indulge yourself; Paul's gospel +is that you must love and deny yourself. Paul says love is the +fulfilling of the law; George Sand virtually says love is the annulling +of the law. + +Because in many passionate and powerful novels, read everywhere in +Europe and not only in France, read also in America, George Sand has +preached this gospel of love as the virtual solvent of existing society, +Mr. Justin Macarthy pronounces the opinion that she is on the whole +incomparably the greatest force in literature of her generation. He +probably would attribute to her as a chief motor the portentous +movements in human society which we of to-day feel, like tides of the +sea, bearing us on, no one knows whither. It is no doubt true that +George Sand has contributed what mechanicians call a "moment," not +sufficiently considered, to make up the urgency that is pushing us all +in the direction toward uncalculated social solutions and social +reconstructions. This constitutes her a notable social force working by +literature; a force, however, that has already chiefly spent itself, or +that persists, so far as it does persist, translated indistinguishably +into other forms. + +For George Sand is no longer read as she formerly was, her fashion +having already to a great extent passed away. It is a common testimony +that, as she wrote like one improvising, so her writing is to be read +once and not returned to. Her "Consuelo," in its time such a rage, and +still often spoken of as her masterpiece, is now even a little hard to +get through. You yawn, you feel like skipping, you do skip, and you +finally shut up the book wondering why such bright writing should make +such dull reading. + +There occurred a sharp, decisive change, a change, however, not +consistently maintained, in George Sand's quality of production. From +producing novels of social ferment, she turned to producing the +quietest, most quieting, idyllic little stories in the world. There is a +long list of such. "La Petite Fadette," "François le Champi," "Les +Maîtres Sonneurs," are among the best of them. From this last, +consummately well translated by our countrywoman, Miss Katharine +Prescott Wormeley, who has Messrs. Roberts Brothers for her publishers, +we shall offer a very short extract in specimen. But first a short +passage from one of her earlier books, in order that our readers may get +a sense of the change that she underwent, or rather--for no doubt the +change was voluntary and calculated on her part--the change that she +chose to make, in her manner. It is simply her two contrasted manners +that we aim to illustrate--not at all, in either case, the matter or +doctrine set forth. To illustrate this last we should have no room, had +we the inclination. + +From "Lélia," we translate a passage descriptive of Alpine scenery, or +rather of the effect on the mind of Alpine scenery. After lighting upon +this passage for our choice we found that Mr. Saintsbury too, in his +"Specimens of French Literature," had made the same selection, at double +length, for his sole exemplification of George Sand. We are thus +confirmed in trusting that we shall show our author, if far too briefly, +still at her best: + + "Look where we are; is it not sublime, and can you think of aught else + than God? Sit down upon this moss, virgin of human steps, and see at + your feet the desert unrolling its mighty depths. Did ever you + contemplate anything more wild and yet more full of life? See what + vigor in this free and vagabond vegetation; what movement in those + woods which the wind bows and sways, in those great flocks of eagles + hovering incessantly around the misty summits and passing in moving + circles like great black rings over the sheet, white and watery, of + the glacier. Do you hear the noise that rises and falls on every side? + The torrents weeping and sobbing like unhappy souls; the stags moaning + with voices plaintive and passionate, the breeze singing and laughing + among the heather, the vultures screaming like frightened women; and + those other noises, strange, mysterious, indescribable, rumbling + muffled in the mountains; those colossal icebergs cracking in their + very heart; those snows, sucking and drawing down the sand; those + great roots of trees grappling incessantly with the entrails of the + earth and toiling to heave the rock and to rive the shale; those + unknown voices, those vague sighs, which the soil, always a prey to + the pains of travail, here expires through her gaping loins; do you + not find all this more splendid, more harmonious, than the church or + the theater?" + +With our utmost effort to convey, through close fidelity, the feeling of +George Sand's style, the delicious music of it, its sweet opulence of +diction, its warmth of color, its easy spontaneity, its lubricity, its +flow, we must ask our readers to imagine all twice as charming as they +could possibly find it in any translation. As to the substance of what +is said in the foregoing sentences? Other travelers may have been more +fortunate, but the present writer is obliged to admit that he never saw +"great flocks," or any flocks at all, of eagles "incessantly hovering +around the summits" of the Alps. Indeed, the eagle is generally supposed +to be a solitary bird, not inclined to fly in flocks. Also, he has never +happened to meet with "stags" in the Alps, much less to hear them moan +passionately or otherwise. "The vultures screaming," etc.? In short, he +would be quite unable to verify in its details George Sand's beautiful +description, which he thinks must have been written from the heart of +the writer, much more than from either her eye or her ear. + +Successive generations of readers are not apt to be satisfied with +merely subjective truth in what is offered them to read. There must be +fact of some sort to correspond with statement, in order permanently to +secure the future for an author. But feeling, rather than fact, at least +in her earlier work, is the substance to which George Sand's magical +style gave such exquisite form. + +Now for a specimen passage done in her later manner. + +This we take from "Les Maîtres Sonneurs," or "The Bagpipers," as Miss +Wormeley renders the title. Brulette is a charming peasant girl, who, +brought up in the same house with José, has known him only as a shy, +recluse, silent, sullen, even downright stupid boy, if not indeed almost +a "natural." He has cultivated music secretly, and he now makes trial of +his art for the first time before Brulette. She turns away, and he is in +despair, till he sees that she turned away to hide her fast-coming +tears. He then demands to know what she thought of while he was playing. +Brulette replies, and José in his turn expresses his mind: + + "I did not think of any thing," said Brulette, "but a thousand + recollections of old times came into my mind. I seemed not to see you + playing, though I heard you clearly enough; you appeared to be no + older than when we lived together, and I felt as if you and I were + driven by a strong wind, sometimes through the ripe wheat, sometimes + into the long grass, at other times upon the running streams; and I + saw the fields, the woods, the springs, the flowery meadows, and the + birds in the sky among the clouds. I saw, too, in my dream, your + mother and my grandfather sitting before the fire, and talking of + things I could not understand; and all the while you were in the + corner on your knees saying your prayers, and I thought I was asleep + in my little bed. Then again I saw the ground covered with snow, and + the willows full of larks, and the night full of falling stars; and we + looked at each other, sitting on a hillock, while the sheep made their + little noise of nibbling the grass. In short I dreamed so many things + that they are all jumbled up in my head; and if they made me cry it + was not for grief, but because my mind was shaken in a way I can't at + all explain to you." + + "It is all right," said José. "What I saw and what I dreamed as I + played, you saw too! Thank you, Brulette; through you I know now that + I am not crazy, and that there is a truth in what we hear within us, + as there is in what we see. Yes, yes," he said, taking long strides up + and down the room, and holding his flute above his head, "it + speaks!--that miserable bit of reed! It says what we think; it shows + what we see; it tells a tale as if with words; it loves like the + heart; it lives; it has a being! And now, José, the mad man; José, the + idiot; José, the starer, go back to your imbecility; you can afford to + do so, for you are as powerful, and as wise, and as happy as others." + + So saying, he sat down and paid no further attention to any thing + about him. + +Little speeches like the foregoing make up what, throughout the whole +story of "The Bagpipers" does duty for dialogue between the characters. +Charming, but in no proper sense of the word natural or verisimilar. + +George Sand and Balzac are often set in antithesis to each other as +respectively idealistic and realistic writers. Different enough, indeed, +they are, but the difference is that of temperament, of genius, and not +that of method. Balzac is all conscience (his sort of conscience), will, +work; George Sand is all freedom, improvisation, play--around her +everywhere a nameless exquisite charm. + + +5. MUSSET. + +Alfred de Musset makes a melancholy figure in literary history. Few men +ever had a more brilliant morning than he; few men ever had an evening +more somber. And Musset's evening fell at mid-day. Heine, with that +bitterness which was his, could say of the still youthful poet, "A young +man with a very fine future--behind him!" + +What this writer accomplished, he accomplished by the pure felicity of +genius--genius, flushed and quickened with the warm blood of youth. He +did nothing in the way of self-tasking, but all in the way of +self-indulging. He obeyed whim, and not will. When the whim failed, he +failed. Will indeed he seemed not to have, but only willfulness. He died +at forty-seven, but he had already ceased living at forty. + +It is generally agreed that in what makes genius for the poet, namely, +capacity of poetic feeling, propensity to poetic rhythm, command of +poetic phrase, and power to see with the imagination, Musset belongs +among the foremost singers of France. What he lacked was moral equipment +to match. We mean not moral goodness, though this, too, he missed, but +moral strength. He might have soared like the eagle, for he had eagle's +pinions; but he had not the eagle's heart, and after a few daring upward +flights he fluttered ignobly downward, and thereafter, except at +intervals too rare, kept the ground. Some charge this lamentable failure +on Musset's part to the ill influence over him of George Sand, with whom +in the fresh splendor of his young fame he entered into an unhappy +"relation"--a "relation" sought by the woman in the case, who of the two +was the older. She, as some think, sucked Musset's heart out of him like +a vampire. But what a confession to make on the man's behalf of flaccid +moral fiber in him! Such a man, one would say, was certain to fall in +due time prey to some one; in default of other hunter, then prey to +himself. It is one of the things least consistent with a favorable view +of George Sand's fundamental character that, two years after Musset's +death, and some twenty years after the time of her "relation" with him, +she should publish, thinly veiled under the form of fiction, a story of +that relation, in which she herself appeared vindicated, and the +unhappy dead was held up to the laughter and contempt of Europe. Paul de +Musset, Alfred's brother, replied in a book which claimed to set the +facts in their true light before the world. Wretched wrangle! A little +more of dull conformity on her part to things as she found them, and a +little less of passionate protest against them in literature and in +life, would have helped George Sand shun scandals that happily limit her +influence as they deservedly darken her fame. There is too much reason +to fear that this woman, in whom genius was certainly greater than was +conscience, made, after the manner of Goethe, a deliberate study of +Musset in quest of material to be worked up in literary product. + +Musset was greatest as poet, but he wrote admirable prose in novels and +in comedies. He singularly combined capacity of hard and brilliant wit +in prose dialogue with capacity of the softest, most dewy sentiment in +musical verse. Some of his comedies are established classics of the +French stage. + +We confine ourselves here to brief exhibition by specimen of what Musset +accomplished in that species of literary work in which he was greatest, +namely, poetry. A quaternion of pieces called "The Nights" will supply +us perhaps with our best single extract, at once practicable and +characteristic. These pieces are entitled respectively "Night of May," +"Night of August," "Night of October," "Night of December." They are +couched in the form of dialogue between the poet and his muse. Of course +they are highly charged with autobiographic quality. The poet poses in +them very pensively before the public. The Byronic melancholy, without +the Byronic passion, pervades them. Our extract we take, condensing it, +from the "Night of December." In it, the poet's muse talks to the poet +in what might easily pass for an almost pious vein. We could make +extracts in which the piety would be far, very far, less edifying, would +in fact take on the characteristic dissolute French type of moral +sentiment. His muse's talk to the poet is somewhat such as might be +imagined to be a confidential consolatory strain of condescension from +the goddess-mother Venus to her son, the Virgilian "pious" Æneas. We +make our translation closely line for line, almost word for word. The +rhyme we sacrifice for the sake of what we trust may seem to wise judges +a fairly good approximation, otherwise impossible in a literal +rendering, to the spirit and rhythm of the original: + + Is it aimlessly, then, that Providence works, + And absent, then, deem'st thou the God that thee smote? + The stroke thou complainest of saved thee perchance, + My poor child, for 'twas then that was opened thy heart. + An apprentice is man, and his master is pain, + And none knows himself until he has grieved. + It is a stern law, but a law that's supreme, + As old as the world and as ancient as doom, + That the baptism we of misfortune must take, + And that all at this sorrowful price must be bought. + The harvest to ripen has need of the dew, + To live and to feel man has need of his tears, + Joy has for its symbol a plant that is bruised + Yet is wet with the rain and covered with flowers. + Wast not saying that thou of thy folly wast cured? + Art not young, art not happy, and everywhere hailed? + And those airy-light pleasures which make life beloved, + If thou never hadst wept, what worth to thee they? + + * * * * * + + Wouldst thou feel the ineffable peace of the skies, + The hush of the nights, the moan of the waves, + If somewhere down here fret and failure of sleep + Had not brought to thy dream the eternal repose? + + * * * * * + + Of what then complainest? The unquenchable hope + Is rekindled in thee 'neath the hand of mischance. + Why choose to abhor thy vanished young years, + And an evil detest that thee better has made? + +Imagine the foregoing in its own original music, and invested with that +hovering, wavering atmosphere of pathos which Musset knew so well how to +throw over his verse, and you will partly understand what the charm is +of this French poet to his countrymen. + +Musset exhibits something of the wit that he was, in the following bit +of rhymed epigram, which, breaking up two stanzas for the purpose, we +take from his poem entitled "Namouna." The rhymes were necessary here to +convey the effect of smartness belonging to the original, and we +accordingly preserve them: + + Lord Byron for model has served me, say you, + You know not then Byron set Pulci in view? + Read up the Italians, you'll see if he stole. + Nothing is any one's, every one's all. + Dunce deep as a schoolmaster surely were he + Who should dream left for him one word there could be + That no man before him had hit upon yet; + They somebody copy who cabbage-plants set. + +This self-vindicating epigram of Musset's may be pronounced clever +rather than satisfactory. + +Musset--the juxtaposition and contrast of the two men irresistibly +provokes the reflection--was as much less than Balzac by inferiority of +will as he was greater by superiority of genius. + +Already, such is the pace of progress in these last days of the +nineteenth century, the "men of 1830" are beginning to seem a generation +long gone by. The future will see whether their successors of the +present time enjoy a more protracted supremacy. + + + + +XXIV. + +JOUBERT: 1754-1824; Madame Swetchine: 1782-1859; Amiel: 1821-1881. + + +We come now to that nineteenth-century group, foreshadowed on an earlier +page, of French _pensée_-writers. + +The longer lapse of time in JOUBERT'S case, constantly confirming his +claim to be a true classic, justifies us in placing, as we do, his name +not only first but principal in the title to the present chapter. + +Joseph Joubert presents the singular case of a man of letters living to +a good old age, whose published literary work, and, therefore, whose +literary fame, are wholly posthumous. He left behind him more than two +hundred blank books filled with notes of thoughts which were to +constitute after he died his title to enduring remembrance. + +Everything important surviving from his pen exists in the form of what +the French call _pensées_. The sense of this word one of Joubert's own +_pensées_ very well expresses: + + I should like to convert wisdom into coin, that is, mint it into + _maxims_, into _proverbs_, into _sentences_, easy to keep and to + circulate. + +Another of his _pensées_ confesses, perhaps we should say rather, +professes, what the ambition was that this most patient of writers +indulged with reference to the literary form of his work: + + If there exists a man tormented by the accursed ambition of putting a + whole book into a page, a whole page into a phrase, and that phrase + into a word, that man is myself. + +Joubert was a natural unchangeable classicist in taste and spirit. The +Periclean age of Greece, the Augustan age of Rome, the "great age" of +France, that of Louis XIV., supplied Joubert with most of the books that +fed his mind. He remained distinctively Christian in creed, though not +nicely orthodox according to any accepted standard. Like so many of his +literary compatriots, Joubert owed a great debt, for intellectual +quickening, shaping, and refining, to brilliant and beautiful women. + +We show a few, too few, specimens that may indicate this gifted +Frenchman's rare and precious quality: + + Religion is a fire to which example furnishes fuel, and which goes out + if it does not spread. + + The Bible is to the religions [of mankind], what the Iliad is to + poetry. + +A comparison, the latter foregoing, however faulty by defect we may +justly esteem it, loyally designed, of course, by the author to render +profound homage to the Bible. + + Only just the right proportion of wit should be put into a book; in + conversation a little too much is allowable. + + We may convince others by our arguments; but we can persuade them only + by their own. + + Frankness is a natural quality; constant veracity is a virtue. + +In pondering such golden sentences, one is constantly incited to make +maxims one's self; which, indeed, is a part of the value of this kind of +literature. + + Gravity is but the rind of wisdom; but it is a preservative rind. + +The foregoing happy English rendering of the French maxim we borrow from +Mr. Henry Attwell, who has published a selection of Joubert's _pensées_ +translated, the translation being accompanied with the original text. + + Children have more need of patterns than of critics. + + Children should be made reasonable, but they should not be made + reasoners. The first thing to teach them is that it is reasonable for + them to obey and unreasonable for them to dispute. Without that, + education would waste itself in bandying arguments, and every thing + would be lost if all teachers were not clever cavillers. + + In a poem there should be not only poetry of images, but poetry of + ideas. + + Words, like lenses, darken whatever they do not help us see. + + Buffon says that genius is but the aptitude for being patient. The + aptitude for a long-continued and unwearying effort of attention is + indeed, the genius of observation; but there is another genius, that + of invention, which is aptitude for a quick, prompt, and ever-active + energy of penetration. + +Buffon's is a good working definition, to say the least--for genius of +any sort. + + The end of a production should always call to mind its beginning. + +This may be compared to the law in musical composition requiring that a +piece end in the key in which it began. + + Taste is the literary conscience of the soul. + +"Artistic," instead of "literary," Joubert might have widened his +"thought" by saying. + + When there is born in a nation a man capable of producing a great + thought, another is born there capable of understanding it and of + admiring it. + + That which astonishes, astonishes once; but that which is admirable is + more and more admired. + + Fully to understand a great and beautiful thought requires, perhaps, + as much time as to conceive it. + +A few individual literary judgments now, and we shall have shown from +Joubert all that our room will admit: + + Seek in Plato forms and ideas only. These are what he himself sought. + There is in him more light to see by than objects to see, more form + than substance. We should breathe him and not feed on him. + + Homer wrote to be sung, Sophocles to be declaimed, Herodotus to be + recited, and Xenophon to be read. From these different destinations of + their works, there could not but spring a multitude of differences in + their style. + + Xenophon wrote with a swan's quill, Plato with a pen of gold, and + Thucydides with a stylus of bronze. + + In Plato the spirit of poetry gives life to the languors of + dialectics. + + Plato loses himself in the void; but one sees the play of his wings; + one hears the noise of their motion. + + Cicero is, in philosophy, a kind of moon. His teaching sheds a light, + very soft, but borrowed, a light altogether Greek, which the Roman has + softened and enfeebled. + + Horace pleases the intellect, but he does not charm the taste. Virgil + satisfies the taste no less than the reflective faculty. It is as + delightful to remember his verses as to read them. + + There is not in Horace a single turn, one might almost say a single + word, that Virgil would have used, so different are their styles. + + Behind the thought of Pascal, we see the attitude of that firm and + passionless intellect. This it is, more than all else, which makes him + so imposing. + + Fénelon knows how to pray, but he does not know how to instruct We + have in him a philosopher almost divine, and a theologian almost + without knowledge. + + M. de Bausset says of Fénelon: "He loved men better than he knew + them." Charmingly spoken; it is impossible to praise more wittily what + one blames, or better to praise in the very act of blaming. + + The plan of Massillon's sermons is insignificant, but their + bas-reliefs are superb. + + Montesquieu appears to teach the art of making empires; you seem to + yourself to be learning it when you listen to him, and every time you + read him you are tempted to go to work and construct one. + + Voltaire's judgment was correct, his imagination rich, his intellect + agile, his taste lively, and his moral sense ruined. + + It is impossible for Voltaire to satisfy, and impossible for him not + to please. + + In Voltaire, as in the monkey, the movements are charming and the + features hideous. One always sees in him, at the end of a clever hand, + an ugly face. + + That oratorical "authority" [weight of personal character] of which + the ancients speak--you feel it in Bossuet more than in any other man; + after him, in Pascal, in La Bruyère, in J. J. Rousseau even, but never + in Voltaire. + + The style of Rousseau makes upon the soul the impression which the + flesh of a lovely woman would make in touching us. There is something + of the woman in his style. + + Racine and Boileau are not fountain-heads. A fine choice in imitation + constitutes their merit. It is their books that imitate books, not + their souls that imitate souls. Racine is the Virgil of the + unlettered. + + Molière is comic in cold blood. He provokes laughter and does not + laugh. Herein lies his excellence. + + Bernardin [St. Pierre] writes by moonlight, Chateaubriand by sunlight. + +The quality of both writers is such that we seem simply to be making the +transition from masculine to feminine in going, as now we do, from +Joubert to Madame Swetchine. + + +Madame SWETCHINE lives, and deserves to live, in French literature--for, +though Russian, she wrote in French--by the incomparable exquisiteness +of her personal, expressing itself in her literary, quality. Purest of +pure was she, as in what she wrote, so in what she was. Through +sympathetic contemporary description she makes an impression as of one +of Fra Angelico's female saints released for a life from the fixed +canonization of the canvas. + +Madame Swetchine's life was chiefly spent in Paris, where the French +language, already long before, in St. Petersburg, grown easy and +tripping on her tongue, became to her a second, perhaps more familiar, +vernacular. She was a high-born, high-bred, refined, and elegant woman +of the world--woman in the world we should rather say, for, in the +truest sense, _of_ it she never was--who held brilliant, +choicely-frequented _salons_, but who, without ostentation and without +affectation, would go from her oratory, which indeed seems to have been +a private "chapel," in the full ecclesiastic sense of that word, to her +drawing-room; who had even, as Sainte-Beuve indulgently, but with +something of his inseparable irony, intimates, the effect of vibrating +from the one to the other in the course of the same evening. Madame +Swetchine was married young very unequally to a man twenty-five years +her senior; but she set the edifying example of half a century's wifely +devotion to that husband whom, at the wish of her father, well beloved, +she had dutifully accepted in place of a noble young suitor, the choice +of her own affections. + +Two volumes--both of "Thoughts," though one of them bears the title +"Airelles"--shut up within themselves the fragrance that was Madame +Swetchine. We cull a few specimens: + + Often one is prophet for others only because one is historian for + one's self. + + The chains which bind us the closest are those which weigh on us the + least. + + The best of lessons for many persons would be to listen at key-holes; + it is a pity for their sake that this is not honorable. + + Go always beyond designated duties, and remain within permitted + pleasures. + + Upon the whole, there is in life only what we put there. + + I love knowledge; I love intellect; I love faith--simple faith--yet + more, I love God's shadow better than man's light. + + He who has ceased to enjoy his friend's superiority has ceased to love + him. + + Since there must be chimeras, why is not perfection the chimera of all + men? + + "Woman is in some sort divine," said the ancient German. "Woman," says + the follower of Mahomet, "is an amiable creature who only needs a + cage." "Woman," says the European, "is a being nearly our equal in + intelligence, and perhaps our superior in fidelity." Everywhere + something detracted from our dignity! + + No two persons ever read the same book or saw the same picture. + + Strength alone knows conflict. Weakness is below even defeat, and is + born vanquished. + + We are rich only through what we give, and poor only through what we + refuse. + +Madame Swetchine was a woman of wealth and of leisure so-called; but it +may be doubted whether any poor woman in Paris worked harder. She +carried with her when she went hence what, through all her conscientious +activity, outward and inward, she had in her own being become; and she +found besides that ample further reward, unknown, which she had thus +grown capable of receiving. + + +Henri Fréderic AMIEL, who lived an almost silent life of sixty +years--not quite silent, for he piped a volume or two of ineffectual +verse--became a bruit of marvel and of praise soon after his death, +through the publication from his "Journal Intime" ["Private Journal"] of +a select number of his "Thoughts" found recorded there. How permanent a +glow may prove to be the brightness of fame for Amiel thus suddenly +outbursting, time only will decide. Already two very opposite opinions +find expression concerning his merit--one applausive to the point almost +of veneration, the other very freely irreverent. + +Both these two contradictory opinions admit of being apparently +justified from the text of his "Journal." Take the following for an +example on one side: + + Is not mind simply that which enables us to merge finite reality in + the infinite possibility around it? Or, to put it differently, is not + mind the universal virtuality, the universe latent? If so, its zero + would be the germ of the infinite, which is expressed mathematically + by the double zero (00). + +The foregoing sentence is unintelligible enough to make, probably, the +impression of pretty pure jargon on most minds. But in truth the amount +of such writing in Amiel's "Journal" is proportionally very small. + +Another line of entries in the "Journal" tending to reflect +disparagement upon the writer consists of reiterated confessions on +Amiel's part of morbid weakness of will, with habits of helpless morbid +introspection, which, disappointing the hopes of his friends, +practically shut him up his whole life long in a well-nigh total +sterility of genius. On this count of the indictment against Amiel it is +quite impossible to defend him. He was inexcusably non-productive. His +"Journal" itself shows that its author should have done more than that. + +This book, admirably translated into English by Mrs. Humphrey Ward, +exhibits Amiel in the character of a man who always thought and felt and +spoke and wrote on the side of what was pure and good and noble. He was +a profoundly religious soul. As the years went on with him, and he +became more and more the passive prey of his own eternally active +thought, there appear to be registered some decline from the simplicity, +and some corruption from the wholesomeness, of his earlier religious +experience. In fact, he at last seems to let go historical Christianity +altogether, still clinging, however, pathetically to God, as Father, all +the time that he regards God's fatherly providence over the world as +only a subjective beautiful illusion of faith existing in his own +imaginative mind! + +Amiel judges the present age and the current tendency of things: + + The age of great men is going.... By continual leveling and division + of labor society will become everything and man nothing.... A plateau + with fewer and fewer undulations, without contrasts and without + oppositions--such will be the aspect of human society. The + statistician will register a growing progress, and the moralist a + gradual decline: on the one hand, a progress of things; on the other, + a decline of souls. The useful will take the place of the beautiful, + industry of art, political economy of religion, and arithmetic of + poetry. + +He writes to himself a sort of "spiritual letter" that might almost have +been Fénelon's (the date is 1852, he was therefore now thirty-one years +old): + + We receive everything, both life and happiness; but the _manner_ in + which we receive, this is what is still ours. Let us, then, receive + trustfully without shame or anxiety. Let us humbly accept from God + even our own nature, and treat it charitably, firmly, intelligently. + Not that we are called upon to accept the evil and the disease in us, + but let us accept ourselves in spite of the evil and the disease. + +The first following "thought" is a deep intuition: + + There are two states or conditions of pride. The first is one of + self-approval, the second one of self-contempt. Pride is seen probably + at its purest in the last. + + To do easily what is difficult for others is the mark of talent. To do + what is impossible for talent is the mark of genius. + + Chateaubriand posed all his life as the wearied Colossus, smiling + pitifully upon a pigmy world, and contemptuously affecting to desire + nothing from it, though at the same time wishing it to be believed + that he could if he pleased possess himself of every thing by mere + force of genius. + + We are never more discontented with others than when we are + discontented with ourselves. + + To grow old is more difficult than to die, because to renounce a good + once and for all costs less than to renew the sacrifice day by day and + in detail. + +From entries fourteen years apart in date, we bring together, abridging +them, two expressions of Amiel about Victor Hugo: + + His ideal is the extraordinary, the gigantic, the overwhelming, the + incommensurable. His most characteristic words are immense, colossal, + enormous, huge, monstrous. He finds a way of making even child-nature + extravagant and bizarre. The only thing which seems impossible to him + is to be natural. + + He does not see that pride is a limitation of the mind, and that a + pride without limitations is a littleness of soul. If he could but + learn to compare himself with other men, and France with other + nations, he would see things more truly, and would not fall into these + mad exaggerations, these extravagant judgments. But proportion and + fairness will never be among the strings at his command. He is vowed + to the Titanic; his gold is always mixed with lead, his insight with + childishness, his reason with madness. He cannot be simple; the only + light he has to give blinds you like that of a fire. He astonishes a + reader and provokes him, he moves him and annoys him. There is always + some falsity of note in him, which accounts for the _malaise_ he so + constantly excites in me. The great poet in him cannot shake off the + charlatan. A few shafts of Voltairean irony would have shriveled the + inflation of his genius and made it stronger by making it saner. It is + a public misfortune that the most powerful poet of a nation should not + have better understood his _rôle_, and that, unlike those Hebrew + prophets who scourged because they loved, he should devote himself + proudly and systematically to the flattery of his countrymen. France + is the world; Paris is France; Hugo is Paris; peoples, bow down! + +Amiel had a just perception of the immense healing virtue lodged in +happiness: + + What doctor possesses such curative resources as those latent in a + spark of happiness or a single ray of hope? + +A vent of frank French distaste for the German type of book. Amiel had +been reading the great nineteenth-century philosopher Lotze: + + The noise of a mill-wheel sends one to sleep, and these pages without + paragraphs, these interminable chapters, and this incessant + dialectical clatter, affect me as though I were listening to a + word-mill. I end by yawning like any simple non-philosophical mortal + in the face of all this heaviness and pedantry. Erudition and even + thought are not everything. An occasional touch of _esprit_, a little + sharpness of phrase, a little vivacity, imagination, and grace, would + spoil neither. + + He who is too much afraid of being duped has lost the power of being + magnanimous. + +The following shows a good heart as well as a wise head: + + The errand-woman has just brought me my letters. Poor little woman, + what a life! She spends her nights in going backwards and forwards + from her invalid husband to her sister, who is scarcely less helpless, + and her days are passed in labor. Resigned and indefatigable, she goes + on without complaining, till she drops. + + Lives such as hers prove something.... The kingdom of God belongs not + to the most enlightened but to the best; and the best man is the most + unselfish man. Humble, constant, voluntary self-sacrifice--this is + what constitutes the true dignity of man.... Society rests upon + conscience and not upon science. Civilization is, first and foremost, + a moral thing. + +He first passes judgment on Goethe, and then afterward checks himself: + + He [Goethe] has so little soul. His way of understanding love, + religion, duty, and patriotism has something mean and repulsive in it. + There is no ardor, no generosity, in him. A secret barrenness, an + ill-concealed egotism, makes itself felt through all the wealth and + flexibility of his talent. + + One must never be too hasty in judging these complex natures. + Completely lacking as he is in the sense of obligation and of sin, + Goethe nevertheless finds his way to seriousness through dignity. + Greek sculpture has been his school of virtue. + +Under date 1874, Amiel asks a question and answers it. He had before +said, "My creed has melted away": + + _Is_ there a particular Providence directing all the circumstances of + our life, and therefore imposing all our trials upon us for + educational ends? Is this heroic faith compatible with our actual + knowledge of the laws of nature? Scarcely. But what this faith makes + objective we may hold as subjective truth.... What he [the moral + being] cannot change he calls the will of God, and to will what God + wills brings him peace. + +A melancholy fall from his earlier state! A whole sky between such +conscious false motions toward self-deceiving and the victory which +overcomes the world, even our faith. Amiel had now definitely lost his +health. + +Toward the end, occurs this striking and illuminating word about one of +the worst of human passions: + + Jealousy is a terrible thing. It resembles love, only it is precisely + love's contrary. Instead of wishing for the welfare of the object + loved, it desires the dependence of that object upon itself, and its + own triumph. Love is the forgetfulness of self; jealousy is the most + passionate form of egotism, the glorification of a despotic, exacting, + and vain ego, which can neither forget nor subordinate itself. The + contrast is perfect. + +Doubting Amiel still thinks that Christ is better than Buddha: + + Sorrow is the most tremendous of all realities in the sensible world, + but the transfiguration of sorrow, after the manner of Christ, is a + more beautiful solution of the problem than the extirpation of sorrow, + after the method of Cakyamouni [Buddha]. + +Amiel was a naturally noble spirit, not equal to making for himself the +career that he needed. But the right career, made for him, would have +left to history and to literature a very different man from the writer +of Amiel's "Journal." + + +The very latest conspicuous French candidate for renown as a writer of +_pensées_ is Joseph ROUX, a rural Roman Catholic priest, and a man still +living. Out of a volume of his "Thoughts" lately translated and +published in America under the title of "Meditations of a Parish +Priest," we show the following specimen of literary criticism peculiarly +pertinent to the subject of the present chapter: + + Pascal is somber, La Rochefoucauld bitter, La Bruyère malicious, + Vauvenargues melancholy, Chamfort acrimonious, Joubert benevolent, + Swetchine gentle. + + Pascal seeks, La Rochefoucauld suspects, La Bruyère spies, + Vauvenargues sympathizes, Chamfort condemns, Joubert excuses, + Swetchine mourns. + + Pascal is profound, La Rochefoucauld penetrating, La Bruyère + sagacious, Vauvenargues delicate, Chamfort paradoxical, Joubert + ingenious, Swetchine contemplative. + +_Pensée_-writing has gained such headway in France, there is so much +literary history behind it there, and it is in itself so fascinating a +form of literary activity, that, in that country at least, the fashion +will probably never pass away. + + + + +XXV. + +EPILOGUE. + + +How much author's anguish of self-tasking and of self-denial, in +exploration, study, selection, rejection, condensation, retrenchment, to +say nothing of the anxiety to be clear in expression, to be true, to be +proportionate, to be just, finally, too, to be entertaining as well as +instructive--this little book has cost the producer of it, no one is +likely ever to guess that has not tried a similar task with similar +application of conscience himself. + +For instance, to name Ronsard, the brilliant, the once sovereign +Ronsard--lately, after so long occultation of his orb, come, through the +romanticists of to-day, or shall we write "of yesterday"? almost to +brightness again--to name this poet, without at least giving in specimen +the following celebrated sonnet from his hand, which, for the sake of +making our present point the clearer, we may now show in a neat version +by Mr. Andrew Lang (but why should Mr. Lang, in his fourth line, change +Ronsard's "fair" to "young"?): + + When you are very old, at evening + You'll sit and spin beside the fire, and say, + Humming my songs, "Ah well, ah well-a-day! + When I was young, of me did Ronsard sing." + None of your maidens that doth hear the thing, + Albeit with her weary task foredone, + But wakens at my name, and calls you one + Blest, to be held in long remembering. + + I shall be low beneath the earth, and laid + On sleep, a phantom in the myrtle shade, + While you beside the fire, a grandame gray, + My love, your pride, remember and regret; + Ah, love me, love! we may be happy yet, + And gather roses while 'tis called to-day: + +--then, for another instance, to pass over Boileau and not bring forward +from him even so much as the following characteristic epigram, wherein +this wit and satirist pays his sarcastic respects to that same poet +Cotin whom (pp. 81 ff.) we showed Molière mocking under the name of +"Trissotin" (here we must do our own translating): + + In vain, with thousandfold abuse, + My foes, through all their works diffuse, + Have thought to make me shocking to mankind; + Cotin, to bring my style to shame, + Has played a much more easy game, + He has his verses to my pen assigned-- + +to achieve, we say, these abstinences, and abstinences such as these, +was a problem hard indeed to solve. + +The result of all is before the reader; and, good or bad, it is, we are +bound to confess, the very best that, within the given limits, we could +do. Such students of our subject as we may fortunately have succeeded in +making hungry for still more knowledge than we ourselves supply, we can +conscientiously send, for further partial satisfaction of their desire, +to that series of books, already once named by us, which has lately been +published at Chicago, under the title, "The Great French Writers." +Messrs. A. C. McClurg & Co. have done a true service to the cause of +letters in general, and in particular to the cause of what may be called +international letters, in reproducing this series of books. They are +good books, they are well translated, and they appear in handsome form. +Madame de Sévigné, Montesquieu, Bernardin de St. Pierre, and three names +that, together with all of their several kinds, economists, +philosophers, historians, we here have been obliged to omit, Turgot, +Victor Cousin, Thiers, are in the list of authors treated in the volumes +thus far issued. + +An interesting doubt may, in retrospect of all, be submitted, without +author's solution supplied, to entertain the speculation of the wisely +considerate reader. Let the earlier still living French literature, that +part of the whole body, we mean, ending, say, with the date of +Montesquieu, which, in a rough approximate way, may be described as +dominated by the spirit of classicism--let this be compared with the +later French literature, that section in which the leaven of romanticism +has strongly worked, and do you find existing an important fundamental +difference in intimate quality between the one and the other? Is the +later literature of a certain softer fiber, a more yielding consistence, +than characterizes the earlier? Does the earlier present a harder, more +quartz-like structure, a substance better fitted to resist yet for ages +to come the slow but tireless tooth of time? + + + + +INDEX. + + +The merest approximation only can be attempted in hinting here the +pronunciation of French names. In general, the French distribute the +accent pretty evenly among all the syllables of their words. We mark an +accent on the final syllable chiefly in order to correct a natural +English tendency to slight that syllable in pronunciation. In a few +cases we let a well-established English pronunciation stand. N notes a +peculiar nasal sound, ü, a peculiar vowel sound, having no equivalent in +English. + + + Ab´é-lard, Pierre (1079-1142), 13. + + Academy, French, 16, 62, 119, 238, 264. + + Æs´chy-lus, 77, 118, 127, 128. + + Æsop, 69. + + Alembert. _See_ D'Alembert. + + Al-ex-an´der (the Great), 12, 103. + + AM'I-EL, Henri Frédéric, 313-318. + + Am-y-ot´ (am-e-o´), Jacques (1513-1593), 14. + + An-ac´re-on, 256. + + Anderson, Melville B., 281. + + An´ge-lo, Michael, 120, 282. + + Ariosto, 208. + + Ar-is-toph´a-nes, 32. + + Ar-nauld´ (ar-no´), Antoine (1612-1694), 94. + + Arnold, Matthew, 248, 276, 291, 298, 299. + + Arthur (King), 12. + + Attwell, Henry, 309. + + Au´-gus-tine, St., Latin Christian Father, 67. + + Au-gus´tus (the emperor), 103. + + + Bacon, Francis, 43, 53. + + Baker, Jehu, 185. + + BAL´ZAC, Honoré de (1799-1850), 174, 275, 293-298, 303. + + Bal´zac, Jean Louis Guez de (1594-1654), 15, 16. + + Beau-mar-chais´ (bo-mar-sh´a), Pierre Augustin Caron de (1732-1799), + 239. + + BÉ-RAN-GER (ba-roN-zha´), Pierre Jean de (1780-1857), 13, 256-263. + + Ber-si-er´ (bêr-see-a´), Eugène, 157 + + Bismarck, 244. + + Boi-leau´-Des-pré-aux´(bwä-lo-da-pra-o´), Nicolas (1636-1711), 14, 17, + 18, 67, 68, 127, 128, 130, 285, 311, 319. + + Bolton, A. S., 57. + + BOS-SU-ET´ (bo-sü-a´), Jacques Bénigne (1627-1704), 16, 17, 62, 63, + 100, 127, 129, 137-142, 153, 154, 157, 158, 161, 162, 184, 286-293, + 311. + + BOUR-DA-LOUE´, Louis (1632-1704), 10, 17, 63, 111, 115, 137, 140, + 142-148, 150, 151, 291, 292. + + Bryant, William Cullen, 69, 70. + + Bryce, James, 192. + + Buckle, Henry Thomas, 189. + + Buffon (bü-foN), Georges Louis Leclerc de (1707-1788), 238, 309. + + Bur´gun-dy, Duke of (1682-1712), 133, 136, 159, 160, 161, 164, 165. + + Burke, Edmund, 43, 61, 192. + + Burns, Robert, 256. + + Bussy (büs-se´), Count, 106. + + By´ron, Lord, 43, 307. + + Cæsar, Julius, 48, 103. + + + Calas (cä-lä´), Jean, 211. + + Calvin, John (1509-1564), 13. + + Carlyle, Thomas, 209, 212. + + Catherine (Empress of Russia), 237. + + Cham-fort´ (shäN-for´), Sebastien Nicolas (1741-1794), 69, 261, 318. + + Char-le-magne (shar-le-man), 12. + + Charles I. (of England), 129, 139. + + Charles IX. (of France), 53. + + CHA-TEAU-BRI-AND´(shä-to-bre-äN´) François Auguste de (1768-1848), 10, + 18, 159, 175, 226, 229, 248-255, 276, 311, 315. + + Cicero, 63, 310. + + "Classicism," 15, 18, 275, 276. + + Claude (klod), Jean (1619-1687), 137. + + Coleridge, S. T., 13, 33, 38, 39. + + Comines (ko-meen´), Philippe de (1445-1509), 13, 26, 29. + + Condé (koN-dä´), Prince of, "The Great Condé" (1621-1686), 112. + + Condillac (koN-de-yäk), Etienne Bonnot de (1715-1780), 238. + + Condorcet (koN-dor-sa´), Marie Jean Antoine Nicolas Caritat de + (1743-1794), 100, 101. + + Constant (koN-sto´N), Benjamin (1767-1830), 243. + + Coquerel (kok-rel´), Athanase Laurent Charles (1795-1868), 157. + + CORNEILLE (kor-nal´), Pierre (1606-1684), 10, 16, 17, 19, 64, 65, + 117-127, 129, 137, 138, 200, 285, 291, 292. + + Cotin (ko-taN´) Abbé (17th century), 81, 319. + + Cotton, Charles (1630-1687), 40, 43, 45. + + Cousin (koo-zaN´), Victor (1792-1867), 101, 290, 291, 320. + + Cowper, William, 173. + + + D'Alembert (dä-läN-bêr´), Jean le Rond (1717-1783), 17, 219, 238. + + Dante, Alighieri, 76, 77, 91, 281. + + Demosthenes, 63. + + Descartes (da-kärt´), René (1596-1650), 16, 86, 92. + + D'Holbach (dol-bak´), properly, Holbach, Paul Henri Thyry, + (1723-1789), 238. + + Dickens, Charles, 33, 116, 295, 296. + + DIDEROT (de-dro), Denis (1713-1784), 17, 191, 209, 236, 237, 238, 285. + + Dryden, John, 43, 127. + + Duclos (dü-klo´), Charles Pineau (1704-1772), 238. + + + "_Écrasez l'Infâme_," 210. + + Edward (the Black Prince), 24, 26. + + Edwards, President Jonathan, 145. + + Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 43, 45, 52. + + Encyclopædists, 17, 167, 209, 235-239, 249. + + Epictetus, 54. + + Erasmus, 39, 99. + + Euripides, 64, 118, 127, 129. + + + _Fabliaux_ (fab´le-o´), 12. + + Faugère (fo-zhér´), Armand Prosper (1810), 101. + + Félix, Père, 157. + + Fénelon (fan-loN´), François de Salignac de la Mothe (1651-1715), 17, + 134, 137, 153, 158-173, 310, 315. + + Fléchier (flache-a´), Esprit (1632-1710), 137. + + Foix (fwä), Count of, 27, 28. + + FROISSART (frwä-sar´), Jean (1337-1410?), 13, 22-29. + + + Gaillard (ga-yar´), Gabriel Henri (1726-1806), 119. + + Gargant´ua, 29, 34-37. + + Gibbon, Edward, 118, 241. + + Goethe, Johann Wolfgang, 184, 229, 244, 245, 281, 305, 317. + + Goldsmith, Oliver, 67, 184, 269. + + Grignan (green-yäN´), Madame de, 108. + + Grimm, Friedrich Melchior (1723-1807), 238. + + Grimm, Herman, 244. + + Guizot, François Pierre Guillaume (1787-1874), 199, 320. + + Guyon (ge-yoN´) Madame (1648-1717), 161, 172, 173. + + + Hallam, Henry, 21, 33. + + Havet (ä-va´) (editor of Pascal's works), 101. + + Hawkesworth, Doctor, 169. + + Hazlitt, William Carew, 43. + + Helvétius (el-va-se-üss´), Claude Adrien (1715-1771), 238. + + Henriette, Princess, 129, 139. + + Henry of Navarre (Henri IV. of France), 53, 202. + + Herodotus, 13, 22, 310. + + Holbach. See D'Holbach. + + Homer, 14, 31, 32, 77, 206, 208, 310. + + Hooker ("The Judicious"), 158. + + Horace, 32, 206, 256, 310. + + HUGO (ü-go´), VICTOR Marie (1802-1885), 18, 19, 77, 256, 257, 274, + 275-285, 315, 316. + + Hume, David, 43, 226. + + Hutson, Charles W., 21. + + Hyacinthe (e´ä´saN), Père (1827-), 157. + + + Job, 77, 161, 281. + + Johnes, Thomas, 22. + + Joinville (zhwaN-veel´), Jean de (1224?-1319?), 13. + + JOUBERT (zhoo´bar), Joseph (1754-1824), 65, 307-311. + + Julian (The Apostate), 135. + + Juvenal, 62. + + + La Boëtie (lä-bo-a-te´), 49, 50. + + Laboulaye (la´boo-la´), Edouard René Lefebvre, 196. + + LA BRUYÈRE (lä-brü-e-yêr´), Jean (1646?-1696), 17, 62-64, 118, 138, + 311, 318. + + Lacordaire (la-kor-dêr´), Jean Baptiste Henri (1802-1861), 157. + + LA FONTAINE (lä-foN-tan´) Jean de (1621-1695), 17, 66-75. + + La Harpe (lä-arp), Jean François de, 290. + + LAMARTINE (lä-mar-ten´), Alphonse Marie Louis de (1790-1869), 18, 159, + 175, 229, 263-274, 287, 289, 290, 291. + + Lang, Andrew, 280, 319. + + Langue d'oc, 11. + + Langue d'oïl, 11. + + Lanier, Sidney, 27. + + LA ROCHEFOUCAULD (lä-rosh-foo-ko´), François, Duc de (1613-1680), 17, + 43, 55-62, 103, 106, 114. + + Longfellow, Henry W., 44. + + Lotze, Rudolf Hermann, 316. + + Louis IX. (1215-1270) (St. Louis), 12, 13. + + Louis XI. (1423-1483), 13. + + Louis XIII. (1601-1643), 15, 77, 291. + + Louis XIV. (1638-1715) (Quatorze), 15, 17, 106, 130, 133, 136, 137, + 138, 142, 143, 148, 149, 157, 159, 166, 167, 170, 291. + + Louis XV. (1710-1774), 149, 212. + + Louis XVIII. (1755-1824), 249. + + Louis Napoleon (1808-1873), 193, 259, 261, 266, 277. + + Louis Philippe (1773-1850), 192, 199, 249, 257, 264. + + Lucan, 117, 118, 201. + + Lucretius, 77, 127. + + Luther, Martin, 13, 37. + + + Machiavelli, 192. + + Maintenon (mäN-teh-noN´), Madame de (1635-1719), 130, 136, 142, 161, + 162. + + Maistre (mêtr), Joseph Marie de (1753-1821), 255. + + Malherbe (mäl-êrb´), François (1555-1628), 15, 18. + + Martin (mar täN´), Henri (1810- ), 138. + + MASSILLON (mäs-se-yoN´), Jean Baptiste (1663-1742), 10, 17, 115, 137, + 142, 147, 148-153, 157, 311. + + Matthews, William, 287. + + Maury, the Abbé, 290. + + McCarthy, Justin, 300. + + M'Crie, Thomas, 94. + + Menander, 75. + + Milton, John, 75, 137, 158, 207, 208. + + MOLIÈRE (mo lei-êr´) (real name, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, 1622-1673) + 17, 19, 67, 75-91, 100, 119, 126, 127, 176, 201, 311, 319. + + Moltke, Count von, 194, 244. + + Monod (mo´no´), Adolphe, 157. + + Monod, Frédéric, 157. + + Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 116. + + MONTAIGNE (mon-tän´), Michel Eyquem de (1533-1592), 10, 13, 14, 40-54, + 56, 61, 103, 190, 214. + + Montespan (moN-tess-pâN'), Madame de (1641-1707), 109. + + MONTESQUIEU (moN-tes-ke-uh´), Charles de Secondat de (1689-1755,), 17, + 167, 184-191, 192, 199, 311, 320. + + Morley, John, 118, 203, 209, 237. + + Motteux, Peter Anthony (1660-1718), 30. + + MUSSET (mü-sá´), (1810-1857), Alfred de, 275, 303-307. + + Musset, Paul de, 305. + + + Napoleon Bonaparte, 18, 153, 240, 241, 242, 244, 248, 249, 259, 282. + + Nettleton, W. A., 91. + + Newton, Sir Isaac, 92. + + Nicole (ne-kol´), Pierre (1625-1695), 10, 114, 128. + + + "Obscurantism" (disposition in the sphere of the intellect to love + darkness rather than light), 210. + + + Pan-tag´ru-el, 29, 35, 37, 38. + + Panurge (pä-nürzh´), 37, 38. + + PASCAL, Blaise (1623-1662), 10, 16, 17, 43, 52, 54, 65, 91-104, 115, + 145, 310, 311, 318. + + Pascal, Jacqueline, 92. + + Pericles, 247. + + Petrarch, Francesco, 23. + + Phædrus, 69. + + Pindar, 256. + + Plato, 30, 45, 188, 208, 240, 318. + + "Pleiades" (ple´ya-dez), 14, 15, 18. + + Plutarch, 14, 31, 42, 48, 215. + + "Pó-co-cu´rant-ism," 208. + + Pompadour, Madame de (1721-1764), 212. + + Pompey, 48. + + Pope, Alexander, 43, 127. + + Poquelin (po-ke-lâN´). See Molière. + + Port Royal, 94, 100, 128, 287. + + Pradon (prä-doN'), 129, 130. + + Provençal (pro-vaN-sal), 11. + + Ptolemy Philadelphus, 14. + + + RABELAIS (rä-bla), François (1495?-1553?), 10, 13, 29-39, 50, 54, 67, + 113, 114. + + RACINE (rä-seen´), Jean (1639-1699), 17, 64, 65, 67, 117, 118, + 127-137, 153, 285, 291, 292, 311. + + Rambouillet (roN-boo-ya), Hôtel de, 15, 16, 81, 84, 120, 138, 288. + + Récamier (ra-ka-me-a´) Madame (1777-1849), 16, 239, 240, 244, 255. + + Renan (reh-noN´), Joseph Ernest (1823), 285. + + Richelieu (resh-le-uh´), Cardinal, (1585-1642), 15, 16, 77, 119, 291. + + "Romanticism," 18, 275, 276. + + Ronsard (roN-sar´), Pierre de, (1524-1585), 14, 15, 319. + + Rousseau (roo-so´), Jean Baptiste (1670-1741), 212. + + ROUSSEAU, Jean Jacques (1712-1778), 10, 17, 18, 48, 159, 167, 175, + 209, 212-228, 229, 234, 238, 239, 249, 311. + + Roux (roo), Joseph (living), 318. + + Ruskin, John, 60. + + Rutebeuf (rü-te-buf´) (b. 1230), _trouvère_, 12. + + + Sablière (sä-bli-êr´), Madame de la, 67, 68. + + Saci (sä-se´), M. de, 54. + + Saintsbury, George, 20, 49, 298, 301. + + SAINTE-BEUVE (saNt-buv´), Charles Augustin (1804-1869), 15, 18, 142, + 145, 148, 190, 255, 256, 275, 285-293. + + SAND (säNd), GEORGE (Madame Dudevant, 1804-1876), 10, 18, 175, 229, + 234, 275, 298-303, 304. + + SAURIN (so-raN´), Jacques (1677-1730), 137, 153-157. + + Scott, Sir Walter, 13, 22, 26, 85. + + Schlegel, August Wilhelm, 243. + + Selden, John ("The learned"), 158. + + Seneca, 42. + + SÉVIGNÉ (sa-ven-ya´), Madame de, Marie de Rabutin-Chantal (1626-1696), + 16, 85, 105-117, 129, 320. + + Shakespeare, 19, 43, 53, 75, 77, 91, 174, 201, 281. + + Smollett, Tobias George, 176. + + Socrates, 30, 227, 251. + + Sophocles, 64, 118, 127, 128, 291, 310. + + STAEL(-Holstein) (stä-el-ol-staN´), Anne Louise Germanie de + (1766-1817), 18, 229, 239-247, 248. + + Stanislaus (King of Poland), 237. + + St. John, Bayle, 48, 49, 50. + + ST. PIERRE, Jacques Henri Bernardin de (1737-1814), 228-235, 311, 320, + + St. Simon, 159, 160. + + SWETCHINE (svetch-een´), Anne Sophie, (1782-1857), 311, 313, 318. + + Swift, Dean, 35. + + Swinburne, Algernon Charles, 77, 276. + + + Tacitus, 13, 129. + + Taine, H. (1828), 188, 286. + + Tasso, 208. + + Thibaud (te bo´), _troubadour_ (1201-1253), 12, 13. + + Thiers (te êr´), Louis Adolphe (1797-1877), 320. + + Thucydides, 247. + + TOCQUEVILLE (tok-veel´), Alexis Charles Henri Clerel de (1805-1859), + 191-199. + + _Troubadour_, 11. + + _Trouvère_, 11, 12. + + Turgot (tür-gö´), Anne Robert Jacques (1727-1781), 238, 320. + + + Urquhart, Sir Thomas, 30. + + + Van Laun, H., 20. + + VAUVENARGUES (vo-ve-narg´), Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de (1715-1747), + 64-66, 318. + + Villehardouin (vel-ar-doo-aN´), Geoffroy (1165?-1213?), 13. + + Villemain (vel-maN´), Abel François (1790-1870), 93. + + Virgil, 11, 14, 65, 127, 130, 206, 310, 311. + + Voiture (vwä-tur´), Vincent (1598-1648), 16. + + VOLTAIRE (vol-têr´), François Marie Arouet de (1694-1778), 10, 17, 35, + 43, 56, 65, 100, 118, 124, 125, 126, 128, 152, 167, 190, 199-212, + 238, 239, 245, 248, 249, 285, 311. + + + Wall, C. H., 85. + + Walpole, Horace, 116. + + Warens (vä-raN), Madame de, 217, 218, 220, 225. + + Washington, George, 250. + + Webster, Daniel, 141, 290. + + Wormeley, Katharine Prescott, 297, 298, 302. + + Wright, Elizur, 69. + + + Xenophon, 310. + + + Young, William, 261. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's French Classics, by William Cleaver Wilkinson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRENCH CLASSICS *** + +***** This file should be named 36174-8.txt or 36174-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/7/36174/ + +Produced by Marius Masi, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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