W- r FIRST STEPS IN FRENCH HISTORY, LITERATURE AND PHILOLOGY FIEST STEPS IN FRENCH HISTORY LITERATURE AND PHILOLOGY FOR CANDIDATES FOR THE SCOTCH LEAVING-CERTIF1CATE EXAMINATION, THE VARIOUS UNIVERSITIES' LOCAL EXAMINATIONS, THE UNIVERSITY ENTRANCE EXAMINATIONS AND THE ARMY EXAMINATIONS BY F. F. KOGET (GRADUATE OF GENEVA UNIVERSITY, EDINBURGH UNIVERSITY EXTENSION LECTURER, LECTURER IN THE FREE CHURCH OP SCOTLAND TRAINING COLLEGE, LECTURER ON FOREIGN LITERATURE AND TUTOR FOR COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY, ST. GEORGE'S CLASSES, LECTURER IN THE ST. GEORGE'S TRAINING COLLEGE, SENIOR ASSISTANT-MASTER AT FETTES COLLEGE, ETC. WILLIAMS AND NORGATE 14 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 20 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH AND 7 BROAD STREET, OXFORD 1896 First Printed 1892. Second Edition Revised 1894. Third Edition Printed 1896. LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SANTA BARBARA PREFACE THIS compilation has been prepared in order to bring together, in one volume and in a small compass, as large a portion of the French subjects lying beyond the province of ordinary grammar as students, preparing for the Scotch Leaving Certificate, for the University Entrance Examinations, for the University Local Examinations, and for the Army, can, in the light of our experience, be expected to acquire. It has also been our aim to provide a faithful intro- duction to the easier and more generally known works of specialists in the field of advanced French studies. We trust that our Manual is so written that those who would master its contents may receive some valuable intellectual impressions; for it is our desire that this book may help to alter the trivial spirit in which French is often taught. We are sure that the application of the historical method to the study of French can alone raise it to its proper place in the sphere of educative, mind-stimulating pursuits. F. F. E. July 1892. CONTENTS FRENCH LITERATURE MAP. PREFACE, CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY, ...... 1 I. Mental Exercise Offered, .... 2 IT. The Light Thrown on Language in General, . . 6 III. The Contents of French Literature, ... 6 CHAPTER II. SUMMARY NOTES ON FREXCH HISTORY, ... 10 Gaul, ........ 10 The Franks, ....... 10 The Capetian Kings, . . . . . .12 Valois Kings (1328-1589), 13 The Bourbon Kings, . . . . . .15 The Revolution (1789-1804), ..... 19 The Empire (1804-1815), , . . .23 The Constitutional Monarchy, . . . 25 The Second Empire (1852-1870), .... 27 The Third Republic, ...... 30 Contents CHAPTER III. PAGE CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE HISTORY OP FRENCH LITERATURE IN THE MIDDLE AGES, ... 33 Oldest Epic and Lyric Poetry. In the South Troubadours (langue d'oc) : canzones, tensons, plaints, sirventes, .... 33 In the North Trouveres (langue d'oi'l) : Chansons de geste, romans, fableaux, lais, ..... 33 Carlovingian or Royal Cycle, ..... 33 Notes, ........ 33 Chanson de Roland, ...... 34 Breton Cycle of King Arthur's Table Round, . . 36 Notes, ........ 36 Romantic Poetry, ...... 43 Old French Lyrics properly so called, ... 43 Dramatic Poetry, ...... 43 Prose Chroniclers, ...... 43 Notes, ........ 44 Roman de la Rose, ...... 52 Roman de Renard, ...... 53 CHAPTER IV. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF TUB RENAISSANCE AND RE- FORMATION PERIOD, ..... 55 Epic and Lyric Poetry. Clement Marot, ...... 57 Ronsard and the Ple"iade, ..... 5& Du Bartas, ....... 63 Agrippa d'Aubigne . . . . . .64 Mathurin Regnier, ...... 66 Contents xi Dramatic Poetry PACE Larivey, . . ... ... . 67 Prove. Rabelais, ....... 68- Marguerite de Valois, ...... 7-4 Calvin, . ...... 74 Amyot, . .. . .. . . .77 LaBoetie, . . . . . . .79 Montaigne, ........ 7ft CHAPTER V. FIRST PERIOD OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY TILL THE MAJORITY OF Louis xiv. IN 1661, .. . .. 84 Lyric Poetry. Malherbe, . . . '."':*" . 85- Maynard, ...'.... 87 Racan, ........ 8T Dramatic Poetry. Rotrou, ....... 88 Scarron, . .' . . 9O Corneille, . . . . . . .91 Prose. Balzac, ......... Voiture, . . Vaugelas, ....... Descartes, ....... Pascal, . . . . . Cyrano de Bergerac, . . . . . . Mile de Scudery, ...... Academic Francaise, . . . . . H6tel de Rambouillet, ..... xii Contents CHAPTER VI. FADE AGK OF Louis xiv. (1661-1715) 110 Miscellaneous Verse. La Fontaine, ....... Ill Boileau, . ... 116 Dramatic Art. Moliere 119 Racine, ....... 121 Regnard, ....... 126 Didactic Writings, Philosophy. La Rochefoucauld, ...... 126 Bossuet, ....... 127 La Bruyere, ....... 130 Fenelon, 131 Epistolary Composition. Madame de Se'vigne', . . . . . .134 Madame de Maintenon, . . . . .135 Fiction. Madame de La Fayette, . . . . .136 CHAPTER VII. A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY WRITERS, . . . . . . .138 Miscellaneous Verse, . . . . . .138 Dramatic Art, ....... 139 History, Memoirs, . . . . . .139 Fiction, . . . . . . .139 Oratory, ....... 140 Politics, Philosophy, Science, . ... 140 Due de Saint-Simon, . . . . . .140 Marivaux, ..... . 142 Mile Delaunay, . . . . . .143 LeSage, 143 Contents xiii PAGE Provost, . ... 145 Vauvenargues, . . . . . .145 Gilbert, . . . . . . .147 Buffon, ......... 147 Diderot, . . . . ... .149 L'Encyclope'die, ...... 151 Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, ..... 152 Beaumarchais, . . . . . . .154 Mirabeau, . . . . . . . 155 Andre Chenier, . . . . .157 Montesquieu, ....... 159 Voltaire, . . . ... .161 Rousseau, ....... 166 CHAPTER VIII. NINETEENTH CENTURY, .... 172 Miscellaneous Verse, . ... . . . 172 Dramatic Art, ... ... 172 History, Memoirs, . , . . . 173 Fiction, ....... 174 Politics, Travels, Philosophy, Critique, Letters, . . 174 Chateaubriand, . . . . . . 175 Madame de Stae'l, . . . . . . 179 Beranger 181 Alfred de Vigny, ...... 183 Alfred de Musset, ...... 184 Lamartine, ....... 185 Victor Hugo, . . . . . .187 Sainte-Beuve, ....... 193 Villemain, ....... 194 Paul Louis Courier, ...... 195 Augustin Thierry, ...... 198 Barante, ....... 197 Guizot, ....... 198 Michelet, . . . . . . .199 xiv Contents run Thiers, ........ 200 Dumas, . 200 George Sand, .... 201 Balzac, ... ... 203 Mdrimee, ... 204 Flaubert, ... 205 Conclusion, ....... 206 CHAPTER IX. THE RELATIONS BETWEEN FRENCH AND ENGLISH LITERA- TURE, ....... 207 French as the Official Language of England, . . 219 FRENCH LANGUAGE. CHAPTER X. THE OLD FRENCH LANGUAGE, ORIGIN, DIALECTS, EARLY DOCUMENTS, ...... 222 CHAPTER XI. THE LINGUA ROMANA IN GAUL AT THE TIME OF THE FRANKISH INVASION, ..... 243 CHAPTER XII. HISTORICAL GRAMMAR. THE NOUN, ETC. , 251 The Alphabet, ....... 251 Accents, ....... 251 Sounds, ....... 252 The Article, ....... 252 The Substantive, . 253 The Plural, . . 255 Contents xv PAGE Oender, . . . ... 256 Feminine of Substantives, . ... 258 The Feminine of Adjectives, . ... 259 Plural of Adjectives, ...... 263 Comparative and Superlative, .... 263 Numerals, ....... 264 Personal Pronouns, . . . . . . 265 Forms of Synthetic Analogy, . . ' . . . 267 Forms of Analytic Analogy, ..... 267 Possessives, ....... 269 Demonstratives, ...... 271 Relatives, ....... 272 Indefinites, ....... 273 CHAPTER XIII. HISTORICAL GRAMMAR. THE VERB, . . . . 275 Moods, . . . . . . .275 Tenses, ........ 276 Conjugations, . . . . . . . 277 Auxiliary Verb Avoir, ..... 278 Auxiliary Verb Etre, ...... 279 Aimer, Ordinary Paradigm of the First Conjugation, . 281 The Working of Analogy in Verbs, .... 287 Finir, Ordinary Paradigm of the Second Conjugation, . 288 Hecevoir, Ordinary Paradigm of the Third Conjugation, . 290 Vendre, Ordinary Paradigm of the Fourth Conjugation, . 292 Some Interrogative Forms of Verbs, .... 292 The Diphthong oi or ai in the Imperfect, . . . 293 The Auxiliary Etre in the Conjugation of Intransitive Verbs, ....... 293 The Auxiliary Etre in the Conjugation of ReflectiveVerbs, . 294 Impersonal Verbs, ...... 294 Verbs with e Mute in the Penultimate Syllable, . . 294 Double Forms in Bdnir and Fleurir, .... 296 So-called Principal Parts and Derived Parts in Verbs . 296 xvi Contents CHAPTER XIV. PAGE THE SO-CALLED IRREGULARVERB, .... 298 Primary Verbs, ... ... 299 First Class of Primary Verbs, .... 300 Second Class of Primary Verbs, .... 300 Third Class of Primary Verbs, . . , .301 Verbs with a Mixed Perfect, ..... 302 Remarks on some Single Verb Forms . . . 302 Classification of Irregular Verbs, . 303 CHAPTER XV. SCHOLARLY INFLUENCES, GALLICISMS, . . . 309 Syntax, .... 309 Gallicisms, ....... 312 INDEX, .... . .317 FRENCH LITERATURE CHAPTEE I. INTRODUCTORY. IN Cambridge University, a very few years ago, when it was proposed that French should be raised to the circle of the ' artes humaniores,' one of the weightiest objections was that French is of no use except to diplo- matists, waiters, and couriers. In the mind of its propounders this pithy argument was sweeping enough to embrace all modern languages in a peremptory condemnation. Yet contempt showed itself powerless to impede reform. Modern languages are fast making good in Great Britain their claim to rank with Greek and Latin as instruments and vehicles of the highest culture. If a schoolmaster were freed in his appreciation of the comparative value of languages from all irrelevant but yet binding considerations, such as the future pro- fession of his pupils, the state of public opinion, the demands of examining boards, he would place himself in succession at three different standpoints, in order to gauge in quality and quantity the profit accruing from A 2 French Literature linguistic studies. These points are : (1) the mental exercise offered, (2) the light thrown on language in gen- eral by the particular language under scrutiny, (3) the contents of the literature opened up by a knowledge of the language. On behalf of French the case would appear very much as follows : 1. MENTAL EXERCISE OFFERED. An acquaintance with French formerly served super- ficial purposes only. It was studied as an accomplish- ment; it gave to the gentleman and the courtier credentials for polish, refinement, and wit. During the period of French literary supremacy in Europe, the aristocratic circles in every country represented almost the whole of society. Then French taste and French manners reigned supreme in strictly defined areas. This lasted till the national spirit, in Germany and in England especially, gave birth to an independent litera- ture, and to a spontaneous culture, so overwhelming by their intensity, and by the numbers of their followers, that the Frenchified circles were thrown into the shade. French, it is true, was never driven from high places. It remained also in good repute as an inter- national tongue, and it gained what it had not before, the appreciation of those men to whom the development of their own national literature brought some culture and taste. Still, the company it kept was too fashionable ; the master of French and the master of deportment were Introductory 3 too closely allied not to bring some contempt upon the language, when under the stress of commercial neces- sities, in spite of national and political prejudices, it was generally recognised as an instrument of education in British secondary schools. A doubt lingered whether French had a right to any such position at all, and the rooted predilection of the universities for Latin and Greek stood out against it with might. It must be said in excuse of its opponents that the way and the manner in which French had introduced itself were little to its credit. Its advocates, till the middle of this century, put it to uses and claimed for it capabilities that are not of the best kind in request among peda- gogues. The French life, manners, tastes, and literary achievements of the seventeenth century used to be the grounds on which French studies recommended them- selves, not only to foreigners, but also to the French educational world. Those grounds are insufficient, and British educationists who believe still that there are no better ones cannot be blamed for resisting them. By so doing they show much good sense, but also great ignorance. In this they are no worse than Voltaire, who, like them, knew not that the French language has growth, and that its literature has a history. It is through its growth and through its history that French has its best claim to the student's attention. Thanks to them, it offers an excellent field for mental exercise. Without them it would still have distinctive merit, such as the vivacity of its style, the directness and precision of its expressions, the nicety and delicacy 4 French Literature of its syntax, the elaborateness of its rhetoric, its logic, lucidity, penetration, and alertness ; but these qualities are not superlative, and they are better perceived and turned to more account by mature minds than by minds under training. History and growth, on the contrary, to the growing mind are picturesque and wonderful: they interest, develop, and enlarge it. When a teacher of botany wishes to give a first lesson on plant-life, he does not choose his examples in distant foreign parts, but he seeks out a kind familiar to the student's eye, and he takes care that the student has access to the soil in which it grows. Then he seeks out the best specimen of that kind for anatomical and physiological study. So will a teacher of language, if he is wise, be at pains as great to choose a language whose life is traceable by descent and determinable by comparison, without assuming the student's acquaintance with lands unknown to him. Of all languages accessible to the ordinary student, French is the best to impart a sense of genesis in lan- guage, and by analogy and parallelism in almost every- thing else. It is the best specimen of its kind, because the decomposed soil from which it springs Latin is school property ; because the successive states it has gone through are visibly marked on its material and in its significance ; because its line of development, diverted from Roman culture, lies across the richest historical ground. Of other languages, two classical ones take their rise in periods lying beyond the compass of secon- dary studies ; two modern ones, German and English, Introductory 5 lead back, with Anglo-Saxon, Gothic, etc., to semi-savage regions, in obscure times. Though they may be more curious, they are less normal than French hence their pedagogical inferiority. Mental training by means of languages is best served by the most perfect living speci- men of language that is accessible. Next to the growth of the language, the history of its literature comes to be considered. French literature has proved itself of late to be a much more imposing affair than was dreamt of in the seventeenth and eight- eenth centuries. To its progress, since the Renais- sance, it owes the sort of credit which still colours visibly both the esteem and the disfavour in which it is generally held. But its long development through the Middle Ages, now brought to light for the first time, will lead to a more liberal appreciation of French literature. It used to be currently stated that French literature had its roots in the Augustan age of Latin culture, and that the Hellenism of the Renaissance was the air in which it grew. The mythological apparel of French poetry and the classical rhetoric do admittedly proceed from that source. But hearts beat and imagi- nation wove its fancies in France ages before scholars imported the literary finery of Greece and Rome. Mediaeval productions, enormous in bulk, genuine in subject and in treatment, influential beyond compare in Western Europe, are now revealing themselves as the natural trunk of French literature, if not of French letters. Henceforth the competent learner will no longer turn French literature to account exclusively for 6 French Literature the study of the formal art of writing. He will avail himself of an unbroken literature of about one thou- sand years to inquire how a literature can closely reflect a nationality and yet be possessed of an interest more generally human than any other. English, German, Greek, and Latin show to smaller advantage the same spectacle. The latter have the misfortune of being dead, the former offer less historical continuity, and their vitality is more spasmodic. 2. THE LIGHT THROWN ON LANGUAGE IN GENERAL. To explain the general laws of comparative philology by a reference to French and the Romance tongues, all living, is a task as pleasant as it is fruitful. French is an analytic tongue with many synthetic constructions, its phonetics are most regular and varied, its processes of word-formation are of the richest. Interest never flags. Instead of consisting of words painfully raked together, like pebbles, from mysterious places out of reach, the material for illustration may at every turn be taken out of the student's mouth. French is typical for the laws of language, for the elements of speech, and for the joint elaboration of sound, sign, and significance into an instrument of high perfection. With students who know Latin, French philology is a pursuit as legi- timate as Sanskrit philology at the Universities. 3. THE CONTENTS OF FRENCH LITERATURE. Iu a very well-conceived series of papers 011 language- Introductory 7 teaching in the Journal of Education (the best periodical by far in British pedagogical circles), a German scholar is quoted, who, when asked whether Homer was poetry to him, or whether it was all roots, replied, with a melancholy air of delight, ' It is all roots.' That man was clearly no better than the life he led. We can see him from here, seated at his desk in his dressing-gown, smoking his long pipe, and hugging books totally un- fit to be a teacher. Every act of study must be an act of life, kindling in the mind a proportionate vital effort. The philological explanation of words must quicken the spirit of inquiry ; the merest grammatical remark must aim at the stimulation of energy and curiosity. The contents of speech, the network of intertwined ideas, sentiments, and reasoning running from word to word, as blood runs in our body, must not be ousted from con- sideration. The highest life of the mind that can be communicated through language is deposited in litera- ture and poetry. There it lies, as in a chest, accumu- lated, ready by passing into the slowly maturing brain to profoundly affect psychological growth. No doubt the cultivation of the mind by literature falls for the most part into a period to which specific teaching does not extend. Juvenile readers are omnivorous, not critical. It is rightly urged also that the study of litera- ture in a foreign tongue is uninviting, because the language itself stands as a barrier to literary perception. Nevertheless, the practice of reducing humanities to grammatical and syntactical drill is absurd, and, little able as youth is to appreciate masterpieces, to give it a 8 French Literature language without its literature would be like offering to a man in the dark a candlestick without a candle. To educate the mind by literature is to put the crown on mental training by language. The custom of teaching several languages, and of reaching finality in none, can- not be too severely condemned. If a choice is to be made among the foreign languages in order that one may be selected for the excellence of its literature, the British pedagogue cannot long remain in suspense. The literature that has influenced all others, and has hardly been influenced by any, whose development is unbroken and even, whose form is most artistic, and whose sub- stance is most varied, rich in tone, deep in thought the typical modern literature, in one word, is the French. Not that it is altogether free from drawbacks: its poetry, for instance, is weak. Owing to its lucidity, to its tendency to abstraction, to the rigidity of its syntax, to the poverty of its versification, and to a bad poetical faculty inherited from Latin, French is rather unsnited to lyrical inspiration. The morbid strain by which the psychological analysis of many contemporary French rovelists is marred is a bad disorder indeed. However, these are mere specks upon an almost faultless picture. A reviewer is struck by the general manliness of French literature ; more than its rivals, it has art, substance, solidity, fecundity. It stands forth in an attitude of in- tellectual and moral conquest ; it breathes the triumph of man over the conditions of life. It abhorred till re- cently what is sickly, pessimistic, sentimental, and mysterious. It is the expression of society rather than Introductory 9 of nature. Its strength lies exactly wherein English literature is weak ; and what could be better than to seek in its liberal and idealistic tone the complement of a sterling British education in the things that go to make worth ? CHAPTER II. SUMMARY NOTES ON FRENCH HISTORY. 1 GAUL. The Celts inhabiting the country now known as France came into contact with civilisation when a colony of Greeks from Asia -Minor was formed at Massilia (Marseille), 600 B.C. Then came the Romans, who extended their dominion over the southern part of the Valley of the Rhone, and called it Provincia (Pro- vence). Julius Csesar, in his conquest of the remaining parts of Gaul (58 B.C. to 51 B.C.), used Provence as a basis for his operations, which took him as far north as the present Belgium and across the English Channel. The conquered Gauls adopted the Lingua Eomana (or spoken dialect) of their victors, and for several centuries kept acquiring Roman civilisation and increasing in prosperity. The FRANKS. These were a Teutonic tribe, occupying from the third century after Christ the eastern banks of the Rhine, approximately from Mainz to its mouth. A large number of them passed into Gaul in the fifth century. These founded the Fraukish kingdom, which 1 See, in the new edition of Chambers's Encydopcedia, under FRANCE, the article on this subject. 10 Summary Notes on French History 1 1 was at first under the sway of the Merovingian kings. The Prankish kingdom under Clovis was greatly en- larged by successful warfare, till under his successors it extended over both banks of the Khine, so as to comprise the larger part of modern France, Thuringia and Bavaria; but it was soon broken up into three divisions the kingdoms of Austrasia, of Neustria, and of Burgundy. In 613 the three kingdoms were united again under one sceptre. From the seventh century the Masters of the Royal Household superseded by degrees the authority of the Merovingian kings, till three of them, Pepin d'He'ristal, Charles Martel, and Pepin le Bref, having established by successful warfare and administrative capacity a title to the throne, the latter was called to it by the military class. This was the beginning of the Carlovingian dynasty (752). Under them the Frankish kingdom became the greatest European power ; Charlemagne extended its boundaries to the Eider in the north, the Ebro in the south-west, Northern Italy in the south-east, the Saale in the east, and was anointed successor to the Eoman Emperors by the Pope in 799. After his death this vast military monarchy was divided once for all by the Treaty signed at Verdun between three of his descendants (843). From that moment the history of the original Frankish kingdom ceases, and that of France on one side, and of Germany on another side, begins. Charles the Bald was the first king of France properly so called. He ruled over the lands to the west of the Rhone and Scheldt. Under his successors, France was exposed to 12 French Literature the raids of the Norsemen in the north, and of the Saracens in the south. Hollo, the leader of the former, became, in 911, Duke of Normandy. By degrees the feudal system developed itself in the land, and the power of the vassals was such as to reduce to a mere shadow the authority of the kings. By the accession to the throne of the House of Hugo Capet, Count of Paris and of Orleans, and Duke of Francia (lie de France), whose descendants were to continue as kings of France down to 1792, the foundation was established of an unbroken monarchical tradition, round which grew French nationality. The CAPETIAN KINGS. The conquest of England by the Normans was the first event of great magnitude under this dynasty. Louis VIL having repudiated his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, she married, in 1152, Henry Plantagenet, King of England and Duke of Normandy, and brought him as a dowry the whole of western France. The French kings were brought thereby into great straits. However, Philippe Auguste succeeded in taking away from the English, Normandy, Brittany, Maine, Touraine, Anjou, and Poitou. Provence and Languedoc were added to the Eealm by Louis ix., commonly known as Saint Louis. He succeeded also in curbing the nobility, in protecting town- ships and the peasantry, in establishing a code of royal law, in regulating the taxes, in forming a body of civil servants, and in laying the foundation of a Gal- lican Church. In the next reigns, French nationality Summary Notes on French History 1 3 was so far constituted that it was able to challenge the power of the Popes. The Papal See was for many years transferred to Avignon in Provence. In 1302 deputies from the townships were, for the first time, added under the name of Third Estate (Tiers Etat) to the deputies from the nobility and the clergy, who already formed the national representative body known under the name of States General (Etats Gdndraux). VALOIS KINGS (1328-1589). The direct heir to the throne being a woman, the Salic law came into opera- tion, and the House of Valois, indirectly connected with the House of Capet, came to the throne in the person of Philippe vi. The prolonged wars with the kings of England, consequent upon their setting up a claim to the French Crown, began again under this prince. Edward in. of England obtained possession of Calais after the victory at Crecy (1346). Philippe vi.'s successor, Jean le Bon, was beaten and taken a prisoner at Maupertuis. By the Treaty signed at Bretigny (1360) he gave back to England the whole of Aquitaine, something like nineteen departments of modern France. On the other side, he took possession of Dauphine ; but the establishment of a side branch of the Valois House in the Dukedom of Burgundy threatened danger to the Crown in a manner hitherto unexpected. Under Charles vi., who became insane, the question of the succession to the throne was in debate between the rival branches of the Valois family, and reached an acute stage. Henry v. of England took advantage of 14 French Literature this civil war to invade France, and to enforce, if possible, his claim to the Crown of France over both branches of the Valois family. He conquered at Agin- court (1415). He formed an alliance with the Duke of Burgundy, who conquered Paris (1417), and he was recognised by Charles vi. as his successor to the French throne. After the death of Henry v. of England, and of the insane Charles VI. of France, the son of Henry was, in his turn, crowned King of France. The eldest son of Charles vi., who bore the title of Dauphin, which, since the conquest of Dauphine, whose dukedom was conferred upon them, has belonged to the direct heirs to the French Crown, withdrew south of the river Loire, and sustained, first as Eegent and then as legitimate king, a long war against the English. The calamities and disgrace of this long conflict roused among the lower classes a passionate patriotism. The famous Jeanne D'Arc, springing from the people, with a heart full of national pride and appearing to obey higher powers, led the French armies to repeated victories, compelled the English to raise the siege of Orleans, led the Dauphin and Eegent to be crowned at Eeims as Charles vn., and gave her countrymen an advantage over the English which they never again lost. These, beaten at Castillon, saw their hold on France reduced to Calais alone. Louis XL, continuing the successes of his predecessor, was able to incorporate the dominions of the Burgundian Valois with his own realm. Charles viii. won Brittany for the Crown, and opened a series of campaigns in Italy which were continued by Louis xn., Summary Notes on French History 1 5 and which, under Francis L, led to the crushing defeat at Pavia (1525), in which the French were beaten by Charles v. of Spain, whose pretensions to Burgundy and Italy clashed with those of the French King. At that time France was being moulded more and more into the shape of an absolute monarchy. The func- tions belonging to the ancient parliaments were cut down, the clergy were made dependent on the Crown ; Henry n. acquired Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and suc- ceeded in turning the English out of Calais, their last foothold in France. Under his successor, the Catholic princes of the House of Lorraine (Due de Guise) formed a reactionary political and religious party, which was as much directed against the king as against the Protestants. The princes of the House of Bourbon, the leaders of the Protestants and of the progressive political party, took up a definite position against them. The strain put on the religious and political unity of the French kingdom became so great that under the reign of Catherine de Medici there broke out the Huguenot wars or wars of religion. The frightful massacre of the Protestants on the famous night of St. Bartholomew in 1572, instead of bringing about the triumph of the House of Guise, resulted in the flight of the King, Henry in., to the camp of Henry of Bourbon, who is better known in history as Henri de Navarre. The French King was murdered by a fanatical monk in 1589, and with him died out the House of Valois. The BOURBON KINGS. Henri de Navarre having 1 6 French Literature formally accepted the Koman Catholic faith, became king under the title of Henry iv. He passed the Edict of Nantes, whereby he granted to the Protestants suffi- cient liberty in the exercise of their religion to make them peaceful citizens. With the assistance of Sully he restored the finances, and organised a standing army. Under the minority of his successor the royal authority was again so undermined that the Mats Gtntraux, which used to be summoned to meet only when the Crown was in serious jeopardy, were called together in 1614; but Richelieu, having been put at the head of affairs by Louis xm. in 1624, resumed with unrelent- ing energy the traditional policy of the French kings, namely, that of centralising all political and military power. The aim of his foreign policy was to humble the House of Austria, which alone stood in the way of the ascendancy of France on the Continent. He sided, therefore, with the Protestants in the Thirty Years' War. As a home minister he put down with a strong hand the rebellious leanings of the aristocracy, and stripped the Protestants of their particular political rights. After his death, Mazarin became Prime Minister, and developed consistently Richelieu's policy during the minority of Louis xiv. He won the day over the aristocracy in their last struggle for political power (the war of La Fronde), and obtained for France, by the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, Alsace, which belonged then to the House of Austria. When Louis xiv. attained his majority (1661), there stood at his disposal a well-ordered kingdom, with a powerful Summary Notes on French History 1 7 central administration, about to be headed by most capable ministers, such as Colbert and Louvois. The young and ambitious king adopted a broad and aggres- sive policy, with a view to crippling sooner or later the power of Spain. His attack upon the Low Countries dragged him into war with the first regular coalition against France known to history, the outcome of which was that Franche-Comte and a part of Flanders became French. After the victories of Conde* m earlier wars, and of Turenue in Germany, the military power of France was paramount on the Continent. At home, also, the now fully developed monarchical system bore its best fruit. Literature, art, and science flourished at the Court of Versailles, and in Church matters Louis' authority stood higher than that of the Pope. Un- fortunately, he subjected, in his riper years, the material prosperity of his country, the loyalty of a part of his subjects, and the military resources of his kingdom, to an excessive strain. The revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 sent out of the country about half a million Protestants, who took away with them their industry, and put at the service of Prussia and England their force of character, their wealth, and their military talents. The French armies, employed again in aggres- sive wars against Germany, Holland, England, Spain, and Savoy, met with reverses, and the disasters brought to the French when they raised the war of the Spanish Succession were the natural result of Louis xiv.'s bane- ful policy from the moment he had fallen under the influence of Mme. De Maintenon. The victories of 1 8 French Literature Marlborough at Blenheim, and of Prince Eugene of Savoy at Turin, are the worst blots on the long and otherwise brilliant military record of France during that reign. The State was burdened with the enormous debt of two thousand million French livres. The son and the grandson of Louis died before him, so that during the minority of Louis xv. the Duke of Orleans was Regent. The profligacy and lavish expenditure of that prince at a moment when the greatest honesty in politics, ability in finance, and a sense of responsi- bility in private life were required to maintain the shaken loyalty to the kings, brought matters from bad to worse. Under Louis xv., who reigned till 1774, the external and internal prospects of France brightened up for a while during the premiership of Cardinal Fleury. Unfortunately, the demoralisation in all branches of the public service, and the unjustified ascendancy of disreputable women in the councils of the king, had gone so far that France was badly worsted in the War of the Austrian Succession and in the Seven Years' War. France had to abandon most of its colonies to England in 1773 ; as a set-off, full rights over Lorraine were obtained. Louis xvi. might have saved France from the approaching horrors of the Ee volution if his power to mend matters and his poli- tical enlightenment as to the measures to adopt had been on a par with his good- will and philanthropic disposition. In 1777 the kingdom was in such financial straits that the liberal and energetic finance minister, Necker, was called in to ward off imminent bankruptcy. Summary Notes on French History 19 In 1789 the States General, which had not been called together since 1614, were summoned to meet and con- sider the situation of the State. On Necker's proposal, the representation of the Tiers Etat on that body was doubled. The effective power began at once to pass from the hands of the king and his ministry to an assembly which had at its back public opinion. In the same year the deputies from the towns succeeded in winning among the representatives of the nobility and of the clergy support for their own views, and formed themselves into a constituent national assembly. This was the beginning of the Revolution. The REVOLUTION (1789-1804). Every change in the relations between the King and this Assembly was reflected first in Paris and then in the whole of France. When the king collected his troops and dismissed Necker, the people of Paris replied by storming the Bastille. When the National Assembly put an end to class privileges, the people compelled the King to transfer his residence from Versailles to Paris. Mainly on account of the vacillation of Louis xvi., it became impossible to replace in the monarchy the absolute principle by the constitutional, and to go no further, as Mirabeau wished. The new constitution allowed the King but the very smallest powers, and put the govern- ment in the hands of elected representatives, substitu- ting for the time-honoured division of France into provinces a totally artificial division into departments. Privileges were done away with, universal freedom in 2O French Literature matters of religion was introduced, the property of the Church was confiscated, and ecclesiastics were called upon to swear an oath of allegiance to the new con- stitution. The King was unfortunate enough in June 1791 to make an attempt at flight, whereby the anger of the people was increased ; and when the majority of the legislative National Assembly elected in that year was found to belong to the Girondist party, who dis- countenanced the maintenance of the monarchy, Louis xvi. was unable to oppose the declaration of war against Austria and Prussia, guilty of tolerating the warlike designs of the French 6migr6s. The French troops met at first with some reverses, for which the mob sought revenge on the royal family. The royal residence in the Tuileries was taken by storm ; the King applied to the National Assembly for protection. He was deprived of his royal status, and sovereign power passed for a time into the hands of the Municipal Council of Paris, and of the extreme radical party known as La Montagne. A large number of royalists were put to death, after which the monarchy was formally abolished and the Eepublic proclaimed. The National Assembly was then dissolved, and the National Convention took its place, in which the extreme party outnumbered the comparatively moderate Girondists, and, finding a rest- ing-point in the military organisation of the people of Paris, brought about the judgment and execution of the King (January 1793). Then began a reign of terror of the most horrible kind. Thousands were brought up before the revolutionary tribunal, among Summary Notes on French History 2 1 them the Girondists, undoubted Republicans though they were, and they were sent to death along with clergymen and nobles. Some of the provincial towns having risen against the tyranny of the Paris political clubs, the Committee for Public Safety, formed in the spring of that year, put down the rising with frightful ferocity, and set about deliberately breaking every link with the ancient institutions of France by suppressing the Christian Church, by introducing a new calendar, by the introduction of a ten days' week, and by organis- ing the public worship of reason. The Committee, extravagant in everything else, did, nevertheless, its duty in military affairs. All Frenchmen of an age to bear arms were called up. The Prussians were driven back across the Ehine, Belgium was conquered, the towns of Mainz and Frankfurt were held. Though badly beaten, the Austrians and Prussians resumed the field the next year, when a coalition of the European monarchies was formed with a view to stamping out the revolutionary practices and ideas before they could extend to other countries. The French War Minister, Carnot, replied to this challenge by putting no less than fourteen armies in the field. The French not only held their own on the battle-fields, but also occu- pied Holland. In 1795 a peace was signed at Bale between France on the one side, and Prussia and Spain on the other. In the meanwhile the frenzied party leaders in Paris, after clearing the field of their joint opponents, took to rending one another. Robespierre sent to the guillotine (invented at that time for whole- 22 French Literature sale execution) those who had worked it before him, and was himself beheaded two or three months later. The moderate party was then able to resume the ascendancy. There was formed in the autumn of 1795 a Directory, with five members to wield the executive power and act as a cabinet. Then came the victories of General Bonaparte in Italy, followed by a treaty of peace with Austria, which secured for France Belgium and the left bank of the Ehine. Being unable, how- ever, to recognise the new political order established in France, the powers formed a second coalition while Bonaparte was in Egypt. On his return he found him- self in possession of such prestige that he was able to drive the Directorate from power and rule in its stead. For five years France was governed by three consuls, of whom he was the first, an arrangement -whereby he practically became military dictator. He brought to an end the civil war in Vende'e, re-organised the finances, prepared a code of civil law on the basis of the individual rights vouchsafed by the Eevolution, and formed a powerful police to be the mainstay of his government. Then he entered upon a marvellous series of victories over the European coalition. The Austrians beaten at Marengo, the Prussians beaten at Hohen-Linden sued for peace, and agreed that the Rhine should be the eastern boundary of France. Tn 1802 Napoleon came to terms with England in the Amiens Treaty. The Roman Catholic Church was re- stored. In 1804 the French, exercising their right as to whether Bonaparte should become Emperor or not, Summary Notes on French History 23 agreed by a majority to be ruled by him, and as his power was thus grounded on the popular will, there was nothing to stand in his way. The EMPIRE (1804-1815). On being appointed to the Imperial dignity, Bonaparte took the title of Napo- leon I., and while keeping a firm hand on the inner cir- cumstances of France, he entered upon a course of European conquest. Already in the following year he transformed the Cis-Alpine Republic into a kingdom of his own. Then, when the European powers entered into a third coalition, it was he who reaped all the bene- fit from it. He made himself king of Italy, set mem- bers of his own family as kings in Holland and in Naples, and united the princes of the Ehine Valley into a confederation under his guardianship. Prussia was crushed in 1807, Portugal was occupied by French troops, the Bourbon branch was supplanted in Spain by one of his own brothers, and in 1809 he knocked Austria down for the fourth time. The whole of the Continent of Europe with the exception of Eussia and Turkey was then in subjection to Napoleon. As for the boundaries of France proper, they were extended so far as to comprise Holland, the coasts of north-west Germany on to Ltibeck, northern and middle Italy, in- cluding Illvria and the Ionian Isles. Eome and o / Amsterdam were French towns. The dark sides to this glorious picture were that the French navy since the disaster at Trafalgar had disappeared from the seas, that continental trade was greatly injured by Napoleon's 24 French Literature interdiction of England, that the French people, al- though dazzled by their triumphant progress through Europe, began to reckon the price paid for so much military magnificence in the squandering of money and of blood. Had the Emperor kept his head, all might have been well with him yet. He committed very much the same mistakes as Louis xiv. in a somewhat similar position. Instead of stopping in time, he visited Eussia with war in 1812 at the head of 600,000 men drawn from all parts of central and western Europe. This army was almost entirely destroyed in winter in its re- treat from Moscow. Then Napoleon who had sown violence beyond endurance reaped at last the fruit of unrighteous ambition. Eussia and Prussia, Austria, Sweden, and England united their arms against him in a supreme effort. He was beaten in the three days' battle at Leipsic in 1813. At the beginning of the next year the allied armies crossed the Ehine and drove back to Paris, step by step, the magnificent military leader, who had taught them by defeat the art of winning battles. In the spring of 1814, the Senate, which Napo- leon had preserved beside him as a figure-head of Par- liamentary institutions, called the Bourbon family back to France. Their head, the Duke of Provence, began to reign under the title of Louis xvm., but less than a year later Napoleon left the island of Elba, to which he had been confined by the Powers, landed on the French coast, marched to Paris with an army recruited from among his old brothers in arms, and resumed possession of his Imperial throne. At once the allies were again Summary Notes on French History 25 in the field against him. He conquered at Liguy on the 16th of June 1815, but was beaten at Waterloo on the eighteenth. For the second time the allied armies entered Paris, Napoleon was taken away to St. Helena, and the boundaries of France were brought back to where they stood in 1790. The CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY. Louis xvm. granted a Charter to the French people guaranteeing the politi- cal rights won in the more moderate period of the Eevo- lution. The French noblemen, however, who returned to France with him, endeavoured to counteract the effect of his liberal dispositions, and felt themselves supported in this by some outbreaks which occurred in the south, and which were directed against the Bonapartists and the Protestants. Louis XVIIL was ill-advised enough to yield a good deal to them. His brother, whose acces- sion to the throne under the title of Charles x. took place in 1824, continued the same unwise policy, and followed out more and more in political affairs the wishes of the clergy. The liberty of the Press was grossly interfered with, a narrow legislation irritated laymen against the Church, and those nobles, known under the name of e'migrts, who had returned to France since the restoration of the monarchy, were granted an indemnity amounting to one thousand million francs. In consequence, opposition grew in breadth and depth ; in vain did the king endeavour to stem the tide by a change in his home policy, and in 1830 by beginning the conquest of Algeria. In the same year the Cham- 26 French Literature ber of Deputies became so threatening that Charles X. endeavoured to curb it by having recourse to arbitrary measures and by consenting to its dissolution. A Ee- volutionary movement broke out in Paris in the last days of July. Anticipating any further steps that the people might take, the French Deputies acting in con- cert with the House of Peers appointed Louis-Philippe, Duke of Orleans, to the office of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom. Thereupon Charles x. abdicated, made his way to the coast almost alone and took refuge in England. The Charter was altered so as to include the all-might of the people and to confer upon the Houses the right of initiating legislation ; but the body of electors remained limited to 200,000. The amended Charter having been accepted on oath by the newly ap- pointed Lieutenant-General, he ascended the throne in the style of Louis-Philippe I., King of the French. Louis-Philippe I. (1830-1848) had been long enough in the school of adversity, and had seen enough of the practical working of politics, to realise that his govern- ment must be liberal if it was to last. He began by being an advocate of peace abroad ; he sought at home to conciliate the middle classes (bourgeoisie), while ac- cepting the hostility of the extreme parties, whether they were Eepublicans, Bonapartists, or Eetrograde-mon- archists. But with him and his supporters from the middle class, liberalism did not mean democracy. The lower classes were bent on the latter; a far-reaching socialistic agitation was set afoot ; the mishaps which, whatever the form of government, spring from the very Summary Notes on French History 27 nature of human affairs, were taken advantage of to assail his policy both at home and abroad. Louis-Philippe fell into the same relation to his people as had brought about the doom of Charles x. In February 1 848, Revolu- tion broke out afresh in Paris. The King yielded then, but too late, the points in debate between him and the people. He was compelled to flee, and left his kingdom in the hands of a second Republic under the Presidency of Lamartine. This improvised Eepublican Government ran through its stages in four years, and, like the first Kepublic, ended in the appointment of a Dictator in the shape of Prince Louis-Napoleon, who was borne up to power by a temporary union of Royalists, Bonapart- ists, and Democrats, which secured for him five and a half million votes. As in the case of the first Napoleon, the authority of the Prince President, which the Republic was renewing in the person of his nephew, being founded on the duly expressed will of the great majority of French electors, escaped from the control of the Parliamentary Assembly. The famous coup d'ttat on the 2nd of December 1851 rid him of a legislative assembly which was bent on re-introducing limited suf- frage, while he was the anointed of universal suffrage. The SECOND EMPIRE (1852-1870). Louis-Napoleon took the opinion of the people on his coup d'ttat in 1852, and was whitewashed by an enormous majority. The Second Empire was at once proclaimed, and was accom- panied by the same semblance of a Parliamentary Government as the first. The same people who had risen 28 French Literature against the far less autocratic government of Charles x. and of Louis-Philippe accepted for eighteen years the rule of the ' small ' Napoleon, as Victor Hugo dubbed him. He ruled with great brilliancy, undertook mighty works to develop the material resources of the country, and flattered the lurking Imperial instincts of the French people by an active foreign policy. He joined England in the Crimean War with such success that after the treaty of Paris France was the leading power on the continent. He had, however, committed the same mistake as his predecessors in allowing too much influence to the clergy. When he entered on the Italian Campaign against Austria in 1859, it took all the glory of the victories he won at Magenta and Solferino to keep up his already waning credit with the masses. The conclusion of a commercial treaty with England on a Free Trade basis in 1860 was a wise enough measure, but not so the undertaking of an expedition in Mexico, which ended disastrously. On the other side of the Ehine the power of Prussia was growing, and a basis for uniting Germany under its leadership was obtained by the defeat of Austria (1866). From that moment Napoleon found himself struggling in a network of embarrassments which seemed to paralyse his faculties and to strike him with political blindness at a moment when energy and judgment were most needed. He made lame attempts at re-organising the military so as to be ready to check the progress of Prussia, and, like his predecessors, bethought himself too late of rallying the French Electorate by liberal and democratic mea- Summary Notes on French History 29 sures. So, driven to extremity, he had recourse to the favourite Napoleonic device foreign war. There was a question of selecting a Prince of the ruling House of Prussia to be King of Spain. At the same time it en- tered into the plans of the Prussian Statesman, Bismarck, to take the first opportunity of fighting the French. Napoleon in. played into his hands by declaring that he could not allow a Hoheuzollern prince to rule Spain ; and on the 19th of July 1870, the French declared war upon Prussia. The South Germans sided with the Prussians. The German armies being in a better state of preparation than the French found but little difficulty in compelling to a hasty retreat the French troops that had collected in Alsace. The battles about Metz were of a more serious kind, but the French commander Bazaine, having failed to do his duty as a tactician and as a patriot, about 200,000 Frenchmen were driven back into that city and surrounded on all sides. Marshal Macmahon, who at the head of another army was barring the direct road to Paris, suddenly altered his course and turned northwards, intending to double back on the Germans and to join hands with Bazaine at Metz. This plan was baffled by the presence of mind of the head of the German general staff, General Von Moltke. Macmahon was followed up in the north and caught as in a trap at Sedan. After two days' fighting, Napoleon, who was nominally in command of the French armies, surrendered himself into the hands of the King of Prussia. After this disaster, France was almost bare of regular troops. The exasperation of the 30 French Literature people against the Emperor, who was now a prisoner of war, made it easy for the Republican chiefs to proclaim the Third Republic in Paris on the 4th of September. The THIRD REPUBLIC. The new Government set about the work of national resistance to the German invasion. The war, hitherto the affair of the military class and of the standing army, became the affair of every citizen. Paris prepared to endure a siege, and when it was about to be surrounded by the German armies, the Republican Ministry, calling itself the Government of National Defence, was transferred to Tours, and when the German armies overran the valley of the Loire, Bordeaux became the official headquarters, Gambetta and De Freycinet improvised armies whose devotion to military duty in a most trying winter campaign saved at least the honour of France if they failed to make much impression upon the enemy. The troops in Metz surrendered in the last days of October ; the French fortresses fell one after another into the hands of the Prussians ; a whole army was driven to seek refuge in Switzerland; Paris surrendered at the end of January; and preliminaries of peace were signed at Versailles in the next month. These were finally ratified in May and embodied in the Treaty of Frankfurt. Yielding to the stress of the moment the French agreed to give up Alsace and the larger part of Lorraine, and to pay five thousand million francs as a war indemnity. Whatever that war may have cost the French, it is not at all clear, when viewed from Summary Notes on French History 3 1 the year 1892, that it did them more harm than good. The whole government and administration of the country has been, since then, set on a better footing ; parliamentary institutions seem at last to have secured a sure hold, and the whole military organisation, put on the basis of compulsory universal service, has become truly formidable. As might be expected in such an inflammable political centre as Paris, the tran- sition from the exciting period of the siege to that of peace and order was troublesome. The extreme social- istic and communistic party set an insurrectionary movement agoing on the 18th of March, which was not got under till the end of May (1871). For several years it was doubtful whether a return to the constitutional monarchy would not take place ; but thanks to the ex- ceedingly wise policy of Thiers, the first president of the new Eepublic, nothing was done to interfere with the natural development of political events. In 1875 the Eepublic was definitely accepted as the form of the French State. The bulk of Frenchmen rallied steadily round the flag of Parliamentary Kepublicanisrn, upheld by Gambetta at the critical general election of 1877. Macmahon, who had succeeded Thiers in the Presi- dency of the Eepublic, resigned in 1879, and was succeeded by Grevy, who, in 1887, resigned his office into the hands of Congress, when the present President Carnot, a descendant of the great Carnot of the revolu- tionary period, was appointed. The premature death of Gambetta on the 1st of January 1883, deprived the French of their best orator and strongest leader. Owing 32 French Literature to the fickleness of the parliamentary majority, the short life of French ministers under the Third Ke- public has become proverbial, but their stability could hardly be expected when the way to a political settle- ment was being sought. Of late years the very transient character of General Boulanger's popularity was like an after-ring of the old Napoleonic infatuation. The failure of the French to follow him to the end afforded an excellent measure of the progress they had made in political wisdom. CHAPTER III. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE HISTORY OF FRENCH LITERATURE IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 1 Oldest Epic and Lyric Poetry. IK THE SOUTH Troubadours (langue d'oc) : canzones, tensons, plaints, sirventes. IN* THE NORTH Trouveves (langue d'oil) : Chansons de geste, romans, fableaux, lais. CARLOVINGIAN OR ROYAL CYCLE Chanson de Roland, eleventh century. Sung by Taillefer at the battle of Hastings, and attri- buted by some to Turold, who was probably only a reciter of it. NOTES. The influence of the French epos on the poetry of the neighbouring nations was very great. It found another home in England, where it was brought by the Normans. Many French poems were translated into English and into the Gaelic dialects. The Chanson de Roland was translated into German in the twelfth century and later ; Wolfram of Eschenbach put in German verse the poem of Aleschans. The Norwegians became acquainted with the chansons de geste through the English from the beginning of the thirteenth century. The Spaniards drew inspiration 1 See, for the material used in this chapter, La litterature fran^aise ait Mi yen Age, by Gaston Paris, passim. 34 French Literature from French poems before singing their Cid, and some parts of the cantares de gesta are based on French romances connected with the Carlovingian Cycle. The fortunes of the French epos were most remarkable in Italy. It was early introduced into the north ; then it was worked up into poems written in an artificial language formed from French, but much influenced by the northern dialects. At the time of the Renaissance, especially in Tuscany, French epic matter was dressed in Italian prose and in Italian poetry. Pulci, Boiardo, Ariosto, built up on the foundation of the Reali di Francia their famous poems. In this fashion the Carlovingian Cycle, after dying out in France, obtained a fresh lease of life in Italy. It received there an artistic treatment which, modernising it, enabled it to rank thereafter as classical literature. The chansons de geste passed by degrees from the province of serious literature into that of humour, satire, and parody, as is indicated by the modern mean- ing of the English word 'jest/ CHANSON DE ROLAND. In 778, the rearguard of the army of Charles, King of the Franks (Charlemagne), returning from a successful expedition in Spain, was attacked in the Valley of Roncevaux by the Basque tribes inhabiting the Pyrenees. The baggage of the army was plundered and its guardians killed, with Roland, who had been put in command of the rear- guard. The imagination of the people in France was struck by this disaster. It was made the subject of French Literature in the Middle Ages 35 song. By degrees a regular legend of considerable scope was built up on this historical foundation, in a manner that reminds one of the gradual formation of the Homeric poems. The Basques were replaced by Saracens representing the Mussulman world. Instead of Charles, King of the Franks, who could only be thirty-six years old at the date of the battle, the legend introduced by anticipation the figure of the fully- developed Charlemagne, holy Roman Emperor, and champion of Christendom. Instead of being, like the Basques, a handful, the Saracens were represented as having outnumbered the Frankish warriors by thou- sands, as having attacked them after suing for peace, and at the instigation of a Frankish traitor, Ganelou. Ganelon was made out to be a personal enemy of Roland, who was no longer the Count of Brittany, but Charlemagne's nephew, and one of the twelve peers, and to have arranged with Marsile, the chief of the pagan host, that Roland should be put in command of the rearguard that he might be killed in the projected attack. The battle known to history had taken place in the Pyre- nees : so popular tradition in the flat countries, where the legend was formed, kept floating before it a vision of gigantic mountains, of black rocks, and of wonderful steepnesses as the scene of the tremendous fight. The Basques and the Franks had fought on foot ; the legend put both parties on horseback and clad them in heavy armour. In reality, the disaster suffered at Roncevaux was never avenged, for when Charles retraced his steps to punish the mountaineers, they had already with- 36 French Literature drawn to their fastnesses. In the epos, Charlemagne returns with the whole of his army, summoned to the scene of the fray by the long-echoing calls of Koland's horn. God lengthened the span of that day that he might cut up the remains of the pagan army. The Emperor rode down to the plains of Zaragoza, took it, and met in a last battle the head of heathendom, who was defeated in single combat. Then Ganelon was brought to judgment, and received the reward due to his crime. There appears at Roland's side his faithful companion Oliver, brother of the handsome maiden Aide, whom Roland is to marry on his return ; but instead of beholding again the knight she loves, she receives the tidings of his death and falls into her last sleep at Charlemagne's feet. BRETON CYCLE OF KING ARTHUR'S TABLE ROUND. CHRESTIEX DE TROVES (twelfth century) : Perceval le Oallois, Lancelot du Lac, Chevalier au Lion. NOTES. The Conquest of England by William of Normandy was fraught with important consequences in literary history. The Normans were soon interested in the past of the island, and wished to know its history as far back as they could. The Welsh, through dislike of the Anglo-Saxons, were their natural assistants. Geoffrey, surnamed Arturus, born in Monmouth, and who died a Bishop of St. Asaph, wrote in Latin a so- called history of British kings, which he, no doubt, partly invented. He relates the wonderful birth of French Literature in the Middle Ages 37 King Arthur, who rid the island of the Saxons, as he says, and conquered Scotland, Ireland, the Orkneys, Norway and Gaul. Then the king gathered about his person the leading knights in the world, gained a victory over the Romans, and was about to conquer Kome when he was summoned back to Britain by the treachery of his nephew, Modred. There ensues a battle, in which Modred is killed. Arthur, wounded to death, is carried away into the island of Avalou. (This island is the Paradise or Elysium of British legends.) Geoffrey of Mon mouth succeeded in bringing the Celtic legends into general interest. By his brilliant description of Arthur's court he gave them a chivalrous stamp, which at first was foreign to them. His book was quickly turned into French we know some render- ings of it in the twelfth century. One of them is by the Anglo-Norman, Geoffrey Gaimar, another is by 'Robert' Wace; this latter is called Brut, a name which repre- sents the ancient British race. The Knights of the Table Round appear in Wace's version, not in Geoffrey's. The Celtic stories, when once they were free of their national character, penetrated into France, thanks to the singers and story-tellers of Brittany. Hence they were carried almost all over Europe. Breton musicians are often mentioned in that age as visitors at the English court, and later at the French court. They relieved with snatches of music the setting forth of their subject. The adventure described was usually 38 French Literature romantic, and in French the name of lai was given to the whole production. This name appears to be bor- rowed from the English word ' lay.' The more im- portant subjects of the lays were soon related at greater length in French poems. About fifteen such poems were the work of a common woman, Mary by name, who was born in France, and came to settle in England. Having acquired the Breton dialect, or at any rate the English language, in which these lays were translated, probably, she related their contents in her own simple way under the reign of Henry II. We find in her work stones of love and of adventure, in which often appear fairies, marvellous events, and wonderful trans- formations. The island of Avalon, that land of immor- tality to which the fairies lead the heroes, is mentioned more than once, and so are Arthur, his court, and Tristan, of whom we are about to speak. These are mostly remains of an ancient mythology. The personages of the ancient Celtic tales appear as knights, and there reigns over all that tender and melancholy atmosphere which is best described by the word ' romantic,' if it be taken in the sense given to it by Madame de Stael and the writers of her class. The poems on Tristan stand in a close relation to some lays which have been lost. The scattered stories dealing with Tristan (Tristram) and Iseult were col- lected in one poem, in the twelfth century, by an Anglo- Norman writer. A little later there was a German version, but the more important of these poems are those of Chrestien de Troyes. His Tristan, however, has French Literature in the Middle Ages 39 been lost. About 1 1 70, an Anglo-Norman poet, called Thomas, gave a Tristan, in which he quotes a Breton story-teller, Breri, who indeed was famous in the twelfth century among the Welsh. Only fragments of this poem have come down to us, but we are helped out of our difficulty by recourse to its German, Norwegian, and English renderings. The Anglo-Norman poets who first treated of Tristan brought him into connection with King Arthur and the Round Table. From this connection there arose in England many Arthurian poems towards the middle of the twelfth century. These Anglo-Norman poems are almost all lost. They are known by English, Gaelic, and especially by French imitations. They were early introduced into France, either in manuscript shape or by word of mouth. Relations between England and France were then very intimate, partly on account of Henry ii.'s possessions on the Continent, partly on account of the ties which united the royal families. Chrestien de Troyes is the most famous of the French- men who have treated of the Mature de Bretagne, as the subjects of the Breton Cycle are called. His romances are derived from Anglo-Norman stories, whether written or spoken, whether in prose or in verse. He wrote often from bad material. His great merit is his style. His works offer the best example of twelfth century French. He worked up his matter to such a pitch of contemporary realism, that the aristocratic classes in the twelfth century may well be considered to be mirrored in his poems. This applies 4O French Literature to his Perceval le Gallois, but still more to his Lancelot dn Lac, in which is painted the polite and courtly love fancied by the uoble ladies forming the company of Marie de Champagne, his protectress. He professes to owe to her, not only the subject he wrote about, but also the spirit in which he wrote. In the Lancelot the chivalrous ideal of the Provengal Cours d' Amour is fused with the inherited character of the Breton romances with such excellence that they were never again separated. The Anglo-Norman tales are mostly the romantic biography of one of the heroes of the Bound Table. There arrives generally at the court of King Arthur an unknown young knight ; then some adventure, held to be impracticable, tempts his courage. He leaves the court, does the impossible deed, and marries in the end a maiden, who is mixed up with it somehow, and brings him a kingdom as her dowry. Chrestien's Chevalier au Lion is a good example of the poems derived from that plot. It was translated into German, Norwegian, and English. Other poems of his are forthcoming in Gaelic, in Dutch, and in Italian renderings. One of the Anglo-Norman tales was about a Welsh knight called Perceval. A small English poem of the fourteenth century gives a very fair idea of the original Perceval. He is brought up by his mother, a widow, without any knowledge of chivalry. He acquires it by chance ; soon he excels in it ; then he kills his father's murderer, discovers his mother, who had been lost in the interval, and marries a young girl whom he has French Literature in the Middle Ages 41 rescued from her enemies, and from whom he has been parted by various adventures. In Chrestien's poem 011 that subject there is added an adventure, the purport and issue of which are not very clear. Perceval is to put a certain question about a mysterious graal which he has seen in a castle during his wanderings. But he fails to put the question. This graal, that is, a ' dish/ exists in the Gaelic rendering of the story of Perceval, whose Gaelic name is Peredur. Chrestien did not finish his poem, yet it had an immense success, and was continued in various ways by Wolfram of Eschenbach among others, who not only finished it, but wrote also a huge introduction to it. The story of Perceval was resumed by several Frenchmen at the point where Chrestien had left it. A poet from Franche-Comte, Eobert de Boron, at the beginning of the thirteenth century set about connect- ing Joseph of Arirnathsea with the Breton Cycle, the graal becoming the cup in which was gathered the blood of the crucified Christ. Other poets followed up this clue and further extended the story, so that Lancelot became involved in it. Lancelot of the Lake, so called because he was brought up by a fairy, or ' lady of the lake,' was one of the best-known heroes of the Table Round. His adventures and his marriage were the subject of a biographical Anglo-Norman poem, which was reproduced in German before 1200, from a copy taken to Vienna by one of the lords who were hostages for Richard Cceur de Lion. This Lancelot, the older one, was very much altered later, and made to fit into 42 French Literature the Quite du saint graal in which Galahad is the hero. The second treatment dates from 1220 approximately. The altered or second Lancelot has been assigned to Walter Map, Archdeacon in Oxford, who died before the end of the twelfth century. However, Map appears to have really written nothing in the Arthurian Cycle. The alterations are more probably French. This Cycle, containing an enormous amount of matter, was completed before the middle of the thirteenth century. An Italian, Eusticino of Pisa, gave a sum- mary of it in 1270, using a manuscript which belonged to Edward, the sou of Henry in. of England. Eusti- cino's summary met with great popularity. It was turned into Italian (even Italians wrote then in French rather than in their native language). Many Italian poems are derived from that source. The Lancelot was turned into Dutch as well, and later into German prose. Other romances of the same class were translated into Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and English. In the English ' Arthur,' by Sir Thomas Malory, we have a compilation reminding one of Eusticino's, and written in the fifteenth century from French originals, now partly lost. The Perceforest, written in the four- teenth century, and the Amadis, which appears in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, in a Portuguese, and then in a Spanish, shape, are imitations of these great prose romances. The original poems were uni- versally admired. Dante claimed on their account the first place in Europe for the French tongue as a nar- rative instrument, and Brunette Latino bears him out. French Literature in the Middle Ages 43 Romantic Poetry. ROBERT WACE (twelfth century) : Romans de Brut et de Ron. GUILLAUME DE LORRIS (reign of Louis ix.) : Roman de, la Pose. JEAN DE MEUNG (reign of Philippe-le-Bel) : Roman de la Rose. RTJTEBEUF (reign of Louis ix.) : Trouvere, author of Fableaux. MARIE DE FRANCE, authoress of Lais. The Authors of the Roman de Renart. JACQUEMART GELEE DE LILLE (reign of Philippe-le-Bel), author of Renart le Nouvel. Old French Lyrics properly so called. QUESNES DE BETHUNE (time of the fourth crusade). THIBAUT DE CHAMPAGNE (1201-1259), Imitator of the troubadours. GPILLAUME DE MACHAULT (d. 1377) : Lais, virelais, ballades,- ron- deaux. EUSTACHE DESCHAMPS (1340-1410) : Ballades, rondeaux. CHRISTINE DE PISAN (d. 1431) : Ballades. CHARLES D'ORLEANS (1391-1465) : Ballades, rondeaux. VILLON (1431-1500): Le Grand Testament. The Rhyming Measures used by these poets found imitators in foreign parts, may be among the early Scottish poets. Dramatic Poetry. Mysteres and Miracles performed by the CONFRERIES. Privileges granted in 1402 by Charles vi. to the Confr^rie de la Passion. Moralites, farces and soties performed by the BASOCHIENS and the ENFANTS SANS Soucr. La farce de Pathelin (end of the fifteenth century), ascribed to Pierre Blanchet, the best dramatic production in the Middle Ages, modernised in 1706 by Brueys. Prose Chroniclers. VILLEHARDODIN (1160-1213): Histoire de la Conquete de Con- stantinople. JOINVILLE (1223-1319) : Histoire de Saint Louis. FROISSART (1333-1410), Chroniquede France, d'AnrjleterreettfEcosse. He travelled partly at the expense of Philippa de Hainaut, wife of Edward in. of England. He is a neutral beholder of the Hundred Years' War. His description of the battle of Poictiers is a masterpiece. COMMINES (1447-1509) : Chronique et Histoire du regne de Louis XL 44 French Literature NOTES. As in epic poetry, the points of contact with England and other countries are numerous in lyrics, in the drama, and in chronicles. For instance, French versions of King Horn, Havelok the Dane, Guy of Warwick, and Aaluf were borrowed from Anglo- Saxon. The patriotic feeling raised in the Hundred Years' War found an outlet in the Combat dcs Tretite (1351), a poem describing an episode made famous by Froissart. Many stories rhymed in France in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries appear somewhat later in the literatures of other peoples, mostly in Italy and in Eng- land. It is beyond doubt that Boccaccio and Chaucer imitated often French fableaux, but it is by no means certain that they always did so. The contents of those fableaux were a treasure common to all Europe. They are found in sermons and in books of piety, and they may have been picked up independently by the poets and novel-writers in different countries. Once formed in the crusading period, the art of writing history in the common French tongue was developed first in England, under the patronage of the Dukes of Normandy. On account of the existence in England of an Anglo-Saxon dialect, looked upon by the Norman kings as unworthy, French took early in the new kingdom a place which did not belong to it in France itself, and it was used in serious literature. The lords, and especially the ladies, of the Anglo-Norman aristocracy were particularly fond of history. It appears certain that from the beginning of the twelfth century there existed in England some works on history written French Literature in the Middle Ages 45 in French, most likely in verse. We know that Aelis de Louvain, Henry i.'s widow, had ordered from a poet called David a life of her husband. This life is lost, but it was in the shape of a chanson de geste, and could be sung. We find that piece of information in Geoffrey Gaimar, author of an Histoire des Anglais, which he wrote about the middle of the twelfth century. His history is a proof of the speed with which the Norman conquerors had made themselves at home in Britain, and of the liberal spirit in which they understood English history. Gaimar gives in eight-syllabled French lines the whole history of the island, beginning with the expedition of the Argonauts, passing on to the arrival in Britain of the Trojan Brutus, then trans- lating from Geoffrey of Monmouth for the next part, then taking the history of the Anglo-Saxons, mention- ing very shortly the events following the Norman Con- quest, and ending with the death of William Eufus. What we have of this enormous poem has little literary value, but is not without historical interest, though the contemporary history is sadly curtailed. Wace wrote shortly after Gaimar. He was born at Guernsey in the year 1100 or thereabouts, a scholar in Paris, a cleric at Caen, a canon at Bayeux. He died about 1175, after writing two great historical poems: the Geste des Bretons, or Brut, which he translated from Geoffrey of Monmouth, and, later, the Geste des Normands, or Roman de JRou. Here again the most interesting part has not been written. He was to write up to his own times, but he was discouraged on hearing that 46 French Literature Henry II., \vho had commanded him to write the history of the Dukes of Normandy, had entrusted Benoit de Saiute-More with the same office. Wace is a trans- lator mostly. Here and there he brings in some popu- lar stories or some special facts which he knows from tradition. His French is excellent. His competitor, Beuoit de Saiute-More, whom Henry n. had no doubt selected on account of his previously written romances of Troie and Eneas, did not complete his task, having been disturbed in it by the wars and troubles in the second half of Henry's reign. There has been handed down to us a poem in a very personal style, composed by an Anglo-Norman cleric, a scholar at the University of Paris, Jourdaiu Fantosme, on the war waged by Henry n. upon the King of Scot- land in 1173. This is at last a document of contem- porary history. There is a poem on the conquest of Ireland by the same Henry, which was written, no doubt, shortly after. This also is of importance in history, but it is very obscurely written, and the only manuscript we have has been very much spoilt. The most noteworthy of the Anglo-Norman histories in verse is the Vie de Gfuillaume le Marechal, Earl of Pembroke and Eegeut of England during the minority of Henry in. This poem was composed shortly after the Earl's death by a native of one of the French Provinces belonging to the English Crown. The writer is evidently thoroughly well informed, his style is fluent, graceful, full of life and animation. He has many interesting bits about the young King Henry and his brother Richard ; in fact, this poem, only lately French Literature in the Middle Ages 47 discovered, and published as yet only in fragments, is assuredly one of the most important documents we have on the history, the manners, the habits, the life, the modes of thought and of speech in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. From the thirteenth century on- wards history ceases in England to be written in French. Pierre de Langtoft, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, is almost the only exception. The language is already very corrupt. When, in the fourteenth century, the English kings, with whom French was still the pre- ferred language, wished for writers of history, they sent to Flanders for such men as Froissart and Jean de Wavrin. French remained the language of Acts of Parliament till the end of the fifteenth century, and of the law courts much longer. In Normandy and in Norman England the literature of knowledge makes an early appearance. As in the case of history, we have at the beginning productions of a fantastic stamp, like the Bestiaires, which are col- lections of wonderful stories about animals, taken from Latin sources, and even of Eastern importation. The most ancient Itestiaire is that of Philippe de Thaon, an Anglo-Norman priest, who dedicated his work to the Queen Aelis de Louvaiu. For him the nature and habits of animals furnish apt illustrations of Christian doctrine and Christian life. The same Philippe de Thaon has a poem in six-syllabled lines on the ecclesi- astic computum 1 and the calendar, a strange topic for treatment in verse, but remarkable because this book, written before 1119 for priests only, is in 1 A method o: ascertaining Easter. 48 French Literature French, showing what part French played then in the education of the Anglo-Norman clergy. We may mention in the same category of works the Lumierc des Laiques, by Pierre de Peckham ; the Petite Philo- sophie, also Anglo-Norman ; the Secret des Secrets, by Geoffrey of "Waterford, who is also the author of a French translation of Eutropius. The most remarkable production in the literature of knowledge is the Tre'sor, which the Florentine Brunette Latino composed in French prose during his exile, because, says he, French is the more delightful language, and the better known of all people. There is a kind of old French literature which is found nowhere but in England, namely, treatises written in French with a view to teaching French to foreigners, or, may be, to Anglo-Normans who were forgetting the language. Such a work is the one com- piled by Walter of Bibelesworth, which throws light on the ignorance of the French language prevailing in England about the beginning of the thirteenth century. Some other treatises dealing with spelling were made by Englishmen. Moral subjects are treated in verse by Elijah of Winchester and Everard of Kirkham in the twelfth century, by Simon de Fraisne, who translated the Consolation of Philosophy, and by others. Among books dealing with the manners of the day, an Anglo-Norman poem, the Ditie (in English, 'Say') d'Urbain, has been falsely assigned to King Henry I. Satire could not fail to play a part in the alternatives French Literature in the Middle Ages 49 of good-fellowship and enmity that mark Anglo-French relations in the Middle Ages. As both parties really spoke the same tongue, when they laid down arms they fought on with the pen. The satires exchanged during the Third Crusade between Eichard Coeur de Lion and the French have not been handed down to us, though we know of the part attributed to Blondel de Nesle in the famous legend about the King's escape from prison. At the beginning of the thirteenth century, before Normandy was annexed to the French realm, Andre de Coutances replied in his Roman des Fran$ais to the sati- rical onslaughts of the ' Franfais de France! In pieces of a genuinely comic character the French poked fun at their neighbours beyond the Channel. They mocked the bad pronunciation of the Anglo-Normans in such satires as the Paix aitx Anglais, the Ckarte aux Anglais, the Deux Anglais. The last blows aimed from the French side in this wordy warfare are the Dit de la Rebellion d'Angleterre, at the beginning of the four- teenth century, and the few pointed stanzas directed by a Norman monk against Edward I. The Roman de la Rose enjoyed a greater popularity than any other mediceval piece of work. It was told in Dutch verse by Henri Van Aken. Chaucer put it into English; his translation was lost, however, and another by an unknown writer took its place. In Italian the Roman de la Rose appeared in a series of sonnets, which have come to light quite lately. Petrarch was accustomed to point to the Roman as the most im- portant work in French literature. D 5O French Literature In Biblical and sacred literature we have a large number of works to mention as the Anglo-Norman contribution to that class of writing. There are several Anglo-Norman poems, dating from the twelfth century, iu which parts of the Bible are translated or repro- duced. Robert de Gretham issued in the thirteenth century some fragments of the Lessons as read in the Churches. Wace wrote about the patron saint of school-boys, and about Saint Margaret ; Sister demen- tia of Barking wrote of Saint Catherine ; an unknown poet wrote of the Saints Barlaam and Joasaph. The legend underlying his narrative is of the greatest interest, because it can be followed to Greek sources, and even to a Syrian shape, in which it was put by a monk who had travelled in India, and had heard there the story of Buddha. Saint Joasaph stands for no other than Buddha. Some fine Buddistic parables are worked into the life of the saint, and made to look unmistakeably Christian. We can seldom trace so clearly a story from Indian sources through successive Syrian, Greek, and Latin shapes to its ultimate Anglo- Norman or French rendering. Yet there is no doubt that a great many stories in our inherited European stock underwent a similar experience. Some saints were contemporaries of their biographers. This was the case of Thomas a Becket, whose life immediately after his murder was written by clerics, laymen, monks, and even women, both in Latin and in French. A budget of theology for the use of laymen was written by Robert of Gretham, and was called by him the French Literature in the Middle Ages 51 Corset, In the preceding century, namely, the twelfth, there had come out a capital Anglo-Norman version of Solomon's Proverbs, with allegorical comments. The English Franciscan monk, Nicole Bozon, compiled a collection of examples or illustrations from Scripture, in a simple style, which would be pleasant reading enough if the Anglo-Norman of the writer was not so barbarous. The tendency of the Middle Ages towards allegoris- ing reached its height in the work of the Cistercian monk, Guillaume de Deguilleville. After reading the Roman de la Rose, he wrote his Pelerinage de la vie humaine and his Pelerinage de VAme. Twenty years later he added the Pelerinage de J^sus- Christ. These Christian allegories received a welcome from the very first ; they were printed over and over again from the fifteenth century ; Chaucer translated some lyrical pieces in them ; and it may almost be said that John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress is not disconnected with the perfor- mance of the Cistercian. The Manuel des peches, by William of Waddington, is written in very poor Norman-French. It was turned into English by Robert de Brunue. , Anglo-Norman literature has plenty of sacred plays to show ; so much so, that William of Waddington, just mentioned, inveighs against the passion with which the clerics sought out theatrical performances full of scandal, rather than of edification. Most of these plays are no longer forthcoming in their Anglo-Norman shape, but they still live in an English dress. 52 French Literature ROMAN DE LA. ROSE. We have here a systematisa- tiou of floating allegorical matter, due to Guillaume de Lorris in the first instance. The foundation of the story is laid in a dream of the poet, the maiden to be won being represented by a rose, which the lover is to pluck in a delightful garden. The actors in the love drama thus prepared are mostly personifications which seem to lose their allegorical character, and to fill parts like individuals. They favour or baffle the efforts of the lover to pluck the rose. The lover in his twentieth year enters the garden of love, a paradise surrounded by high walls, on which are painted externally, as being excluded from this abode of bliss, all ugly and sad things of life. He beholds with pleasure in a rose bush a blossom fresher and more beautiful than the others. At this moment the god of Love pierces his heart with an arrow. Henceforth it is the lover's express purpose to pluck the rose. To this end he swears fealty to Love and takes his commands. On approaching the rose, he meets Welcome, with whom he gets on very well ; but Danger, 1 Evil-speaking, Shame, and Fear declare themselves his enemies. He is a little too prompt in asking leave to put the rose to his lips. Danger drives him away, and Welcome is lost to his sight. Then Reason comes down from her tower, and endeavours to turn him away from the pursuance of his passion. He converses next with Friend, who comforts him, and with Danger, who is ready to forgive 1 The old French word Danger or Dangler here in question does not mean danger, risk. It betokens rather the authority of a guardian over his ward. French Literature in the Middle Ages 53 but not to relent. In the meanwhile Generosity and Pity soften Danger, and Welcome is again within sight of the lover. But soon he becomes over-bold once more, slumbering Danger is aroused by Shame and Fear, and the lover is once more turned back. Then Jealousy has a tower built, that it may shut up Wel- come in it, and the lover, driven to despair, gives vent to his plaint in a monologue. Guillaume De Lorris broke off in the middle of the monologue, and, as we have said in another place, it was Jean De Meun who took up the thread, and brought the plot to its conclu- sion through endless complications. ROMAN DE RENARD. The many fables about animals treasured by the people in the Middle Ages found their way into this poem. Many stories were told about the rivalry between the wolf and the fox, in which the former, stronger but more stupid, is invariably outwitted by the latter. This rivalry was often represented as taking place at the court of the lion, the king of ani- mals. Some French clerics wove together these fabu- lous elements, and completed them by working into them other stories of the same class. The final step was taken when the heroes of these stories were per- sonified, and received proper names. There was no longer any question of the goings-on of some wolf with some fox, but all wolf and fox stories were worked up into the individuality of the wolf, who received the name of Ysengrin, and of the fox, who received the name of Renard, each being accompanied by his wife. 54 French Literature The rivalry of the two antagonists, obtained by the systematic ordering of the floating material already alluded to, reaches its consummation in the death of Ysengrin. A crowd of actors of inferior rank gather round the two champions, foremost among these being Noble, the lion, Chanteclair, the cock, etc. The syste- matisation took place at the beginning of the eleventh century. The material for the foregoing notes was scattered in the special literature of the subject, and was of incon- venient access till it was put together in La Literature Franchise au Moyen Age, by Gaston Paris, 1888, the very best and latest authority. For general information on this period, see the first chapters in the Literature of France, by Keene (John Murray's University Extension Manuals). See also the first chapters in the Primer of French Literature, and in the Short History of French Literature, by George Saintsbury. For the general aspect of French and English literary relations in the Middle Ages, read the third and fourth chapters in Professor Morley's First Sketch of English Literature. We did not consider it as falling within our scope to give a systematic account of French literature in the Middle Ages. The young students, for whom this book is mostly written, cannot be expected to give much attention to a period so remote. But we could not resist the opportunity of showing how little of a dividing line the Channel was then, and how much more French and English held then in common than after the Hundred Years' War. CHAPTEE IV, CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE RENAISSANCE AND REFORMATION PERIOD. 1 Epic and Lyric Poetry. CLEMENT MAROT (1495-1544) : Elegies, e"pltres, complaintes, bal- lades, rondeaux, chansons, ^pigrammes, psaumes. PIERRE DE RONSARD (1525-1585) : Odes, hymnes, sonnets ; La Franciade, an epic. LA PLEIADE FRANCAISE : Ronsard, Du Bellay (Defense, et Illustra- tion de la langue fran$aise), Ba'if, Daurat, Belleau, Jodelle, Ponthus de Thiard. Du BARTAS (1544-1590) : LaSemaine, a descriptive poem. AGRIPPA D'AUBIGNE (1551-1630) : Les Tragiques, satires. MATHURIN REGNIER (1575-1613) : Satires, elegies. Dramatic Poetry. The Performances of Mysteries forbidden in 1548. Renewal of the classical theatre. LARIVEY : Comedies on Italian and Latin models : Les esprits. GARNIER : Tragedies (on Senecan models). Prose. RABELAIS (1495-1553) : Vie de Gargantua et de Pantagruel, a satirical novel. MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, queen of Navarre (1492-1549) : L'Hepta- mdron, Lettres (to her brother Francis I. ). 1 For a rapid survey of the history of French Literature, with reference to French society and French nationality, see the article under FBASCE in the new edition of Chambers's Encyclopaedia. 55 56 French Literature CALVIN (1509-1564) : Institution Chretienne. AMYOT (1513-1593) : Traduction de Plutarque. LA BOETIE (1530-1563) : De la servitude volontaire. MONTAIGNE (1533-1592) : Essais. The Authors of La, Satire Menippee (1593), so called after Menippos, a Cynic Philosopher. AGKIPPA d'AuuiGNE : Histoire Universdle. BLAISE DE MOXTLUC (1501-1577) : Gommentaires. Till lately it was usual to look upon French literature as beginning at the Renaissance. This opinion rested on an imperfect acquaintance with the history of the Middle Ages, and is now recognised as false in its broader aspect. Yet, in a limited and different sense, it still holds good ; for it is during the Renaissance that that was acquired which showed itself thereafter to be characteristic of French literature, more or less, for 200 years. In the Middle Ages the French esprit litttraire (or literary disposition of the French) was comparatively indefinite, unfixed, untutored. It was almost international, true in this to the general char- acter of Europe in those times. From the Renaissance onwards, literature comes under the influence of a criticism which, though free at first, enslaves gradually modern literature to Latin and Greek models, and breaks up the undetermined realm of literature into strictly limited departments called kinds or genres. In spite of this, the Renaissance and Reformation ages are, generally speaking, times of free thinking, free utterance, and free convictions. It is only at the close of that period that is to say, in the days of Malherbe Renaissance and Reformation Period 57 and of Balzac, that the esprit fran$ais becomes true to the definition given of it by such critics as Nisard. 1 The writings of most authors in this chapter are strongly tinged with Humanism and Protestantism. The king, Francis I., was their first patron. He founded in 1529 the College de France, a home of learning free from university trammels, and which could grow un- hampered by the doctors of Sorbonne, to whose dismay both Greek and Hebrew were taught in the new college. The spread of Protestant doctrine was greatly helped by it, though only in an indirect way. CLEMENT MAROT. 2 This poet has one foot in the Middle Ages and the other in the Renaissance. He remained a disciple of the old French poets, while becoming a follower of Greek and Latin authors. He was born at Cahors, came early to Paris, where he did not distinguish himself as a student. Though he read Horace and Virgil, his first writing was suggested by the Roman de la Eose. After this attempt he gave up, once for all, the allegorical style. In 1519 he was attached to Marguerite de Valois. From 1523 his talent shows itself in its originality, and is free from imitation. He was wounded and made a prisoner at the battle of Pavia, and while his King was still lan- guishing in Madrid, Marot was, on returning to Paris, accused of eating some bacon during Lent, which was 1 Histoire de la literature frangaise. 2 During the work of condensation and elimination, of which these notices are the fruit, we had before us the Histoire abrtgte de la littemture franfctise, by Charles Cottier, and Lemons de litt&raiure franqaise, by Petit de Julleville. 58 French Literature held to be a sign of heresy. He was put in prison, and owed his liberty to the King when the latter returned from Madrid. Marot wrote during that time his Enfer, a bitter satire against judges, the horrors of lawsuits, and the cruelties of judicial torture. At the end of 1526, Marot succeeded his father in the office of valet de chambrc du roi. Unfortunately he fell again into the hands of the Paris Parliament, whereupon he wrote an Epitre an roy pour estre delivrt, which is a model of respectful familiarity, playful temper, and satirical point. Marot was then at the height of his talent and of his favour with the King ; but there came from Geneva a bundle of bills adverse to Catholicism. Some of these were pasted up on the door of the King's room. The King swore he would stamp out heresy. Marot, who was then at Blois, on hearing that his papers had been seized, took refuge, after a while, at Ferrara under the protection of Kene*e de France, Duchess of Este. Ferrara becoming unsafe, Marot fled to Venice. He succeeded in obtaining there leave to return to France. In 1539 he published thirty psalms, with an epistle to the King and another to the ladies of France. He offered his collection to Charles v. of Spain, when this emperor crossed France on his way to punish the burghers of Ghent. The emperor rewarded the poet, and ordered from him a translation of the 107th psalm. A new edition containing fifty psalms came out in 1543. The success of this publication was extra- ordinary, though it is in many ways open to criticism. The Sorbonne condemned it as heretical, forbade its Renaissance and Reformation Period 59 sale, and compelled the author to flee. He went to Geneva, hoping to find there the natural home for a psalmist : but he gambled on Sunday and was, there- fore, reprimanded by the Presbytery. He then took refuge in Turin, where he died. Marot's strong point is the familiar epistle. He shows in it a refined, keen, clever wit, a charming simplicity and a graceful ease. His epigrams are often indecent, but many of them are brimful of moral force and terseness. Marot's Enfer can, as a satire, bear comparison with the best work of Regnier. We cannot say so much of his Coq-a-l'dne, which stands between the fat-rode of the preceding century and the amplii- gouri of the next. He did not invent new forms of' verse. It is his merit that he handled with skill and perfect ease the ten-syllabled line. He is seldom better inspired than when he tells us about himself in the sprightly tone natural to him. But for a few words that are now antiquated, his writings might pass for modern. The poems of his youth are known collec- tively as the Adolescence Clementine. RONSARD AND THE PLEIADS. The attempt at literary reform of which Ronsard was the leader was the result of the intellectual activity which turned most minds towards classical studies. Some young men, informed by Jean Daurat, the principal of the College Coqueret at Paris, held in contemptuous opinion the work of pre- ceding poets, and convinced themselves that the French language could be put to higher and nobler 60 French Literature uses. They rushed forward upon the path of innovation. Of these young men the most distinguished were Ronsard and Joachim Du Bellay. Acknowledging the former as their chief, the others gathered round him to form the Pleiade, including their common master, Daurat. The Pleiade issued a Manifesto, written by Du Bellay, and published under the title of 'Defense et Illustration de la Langue Franchise.' It is the com- plaint of the author that scholars neglect the French tongue and use Latin only. The French tongue, he admits, is but a poor instrument, yet it may be im- proved by culture. As the Piomans improved theirs by a wise imitation of the masterpieces of Greece, so the intending French poet may draw from the reading of Ancient, Italian and Spanish authors a form of poetry more exquisite than hitherto. ' So read/ he exclaims, ' and read again by day and by night, the Greek and Latin models. Let alone that old stock of French poetry, roundels, ballads, royal songs, and other such trash. Cause to ring in my ears those beautiful sonnets of cunning and sweet Italian invention. Give me odes instead of songs, satires instead of literary puzzles, comedies and tragedies instead of farces and moralis- ings.' Du Bellay did not advocate a slavish imitation, but the kind of labour recommended by Erasmus in acquiring the spirit, not the mariner, of ancient writers. Pierre de Ronsard belonged to a family of Hungarian origin. He was born in his father's castle in the country of Vendome. Disliking the discipline of the Renaissance and Reformation Period 6 1 public school, lie became a page in the household of the Due d'Orleans. Then he spent two years and a half iii Scotland at the Court of James v., and was in England for six months. Deafness interrupted his travels, and compelled him to adopt a sedentary occu- pation. For seven years he studied unremittingly the ancient authors in the College Coqueret. His fellows also had prepared themselves for a literary career by assiduous toil, so that they were ready to take their flight with Du Bellay when this herald of the new school invited the poets of his day to rise to higher regions than Marot and his forerunners had traversed. Eonsard published his first collection of poems shortly after the issue of the Manifesto. He was severely criticised by the old school, but, both parties having agreed to come to terms, nothing stood any longer in lionsard's way. He gained favour with Henry n. of France, then with Charles ix., with Queen Elizabeth, and with Mary, Queen of Scots. After publishing some Pindaric Odes, some hymns, and some elegies, lionsard wished to try his hand at epic poetry. He published the first four books of his Franciade, a work which he never brought to a conclusion. He says that the death of Charles ix. discouraged him, but the likely cause is the lack of interest in the work, the absence in it of every historical foundation. ' I wrote my Franciade,' says he himself, ' without minding whether it was true or not, whether our kings are Trojans or Germans, Scythians or Arabians, whether Francus came to France or not,' Under the reign of Henry in. 62 French Literature Ronsard, idolised beyond measure by men of letters and kings, withdrew himself into the solitude of one of his church livings, and died in the neighbourhood of Tours. His funeral was an apotheosis. But his name soared too high to soar long. Malherbe was soon to cut down the excess of the praise given to him. Malherbe even went too far in apportioning the blame due to Ronsard, and Boileau went further still. Now-a-days, however, Ronsard has received justice at the hands of critics. There was nothing wrong in his notion that the imitation of the ancients might raise the dignity of language. His mistake was that he for- got what good judges of literature the people may be, and that they are the true moulders of language. He endeavoured to substitute his own art and his own language for that of his times. He despised the people, and thereby rose above the level of popularity. The scholars were on his side, and filled the air with his praise. But half a century later his language was old- fashioned, and his glory was gone. For all that, there remains of his work a small budget which will escape oblivion. Eonsard, when he is grave and simple, falls in with the mediaeval poets, who, continued by Villon and Marot at the Renaissance, wrote in the true French vein. He had fancied that he would become immortal by imitating Pindar and Horace. This was a mere dream. The strange adjectives he coined, the un- digested Latin words, the Greek terms which he thrust into the language all this was tinsel that could not live. But the literary reform in which he failed was Renaissance and Reformation Period 63 too ingrained iii the spirit of the age to be abandoned. It was resumed with full success when the language had been perfected by grammarians, and when the first wild enthusiasm for antiquity had cooled down. The Pleiade re-introduced into France the sonnet which had been taken to Italy from Provence by Petrarch. Du BARTAS. This poet, a staunch Huguenot, was, in his lifetime, almost as famous as Eonsard. He was a native of the south-west of France, and was no un- tried hand at poetry when he published his Semaine or Creation du Monde. His purpose was to sing the praise of the Creator. From the outset he appears as a Christian poet, delighting in the work of the Almighty. He seems overpowered with a holy dread, and after describing creation in the same order as Genesis, he makes on the seventh day vows for the peace of France. The subject was inspiring, and Du Bartas did not fall short of it. Though his often bombastic style and his descriptions of fabulous animals may bring a smile to our lips, his poem is none the less stamped with a sincere faith that commands respect. His contem- poraries devoured in six years thirty editions of the book, and it was translated into almost every European language. Milton is under some obligation to him. He gives one the impression of having overstrained his talent, and if he had been more measured in the use of his gifts, he would have come nearer perfection. Like Eonsard, he delights in adjectives of his own coining, 64 French Literature and, for the sake of rhetorical effect, falls into the mistake of duplicating the stem-syllable of verbs : saying, for instance, flats bou-bouillonnants, which is as if an English poet should speak of a bo-boiling flood. During the wars of religion Henry iv. sent him to Germany, and, later, to Scotland (1588), as an ambas- sador. He died, in consequence of neglecting wounds received in warfare, at the age of forty-six. D'AuBiGN& This Huguenot can be separated from the former neither as a poet nor as a soldier ; and, but for the difference in religion, Montluc might well be mentioned in the same strain. D'Aubigne, in an age of essentially vigorous and powerful natures, ranks among the very first. He was born in Saintonge, on the shores of the ocean. His mother died at his birth, and his father when he was twelve years old. His education was none the less carefully attended to. He learnt the ancient languages in his childhood. On his way to Paris with his father, in 1560, he passed the bridge at Amboise, and on beholding there the heads of the conspirators, which were planted on stakes, the father exclaimed : ' The wretches ! they have cut off the very head of France!' Then, stretching forth his hand over his son, and pointing out to him those remains of the Huguenot chiefs, he said to him : ' My son, do not spare your head after mine in avenging these honourable chiefs. If you do spare your head, let my curse be upon you ! ' Shortly after the boy was arrested near Paris, and was told that he would be tied Renaissance and Reformation Period 65 to the stake and burned, to which lie replied : 'I am more afraid of the mass than of the stake.' His Catho- lic captors let him go. He spent two years in Geneva, where he was put under the tutelage of Theodore de Beze. The old divine saw with an indulgent eye the pranks of this youth, which seemed to him to promise a spirited manhood. He was not wrong in this fore- cast ; for when D'Aubigne" had returned to his tutor's house at Montargis, he was overpowered with such a sense of dreariness that he escaped at night half-naked, and joined a passing company of Huguenot soldiers. This episode became with him a matter of joke. 'At any rate,' he said, ' I cannot say that I lost my clothes in war.' During the life of Henry iv. D'Aubigne sided with the opposition. He could not brook the apostasy of the King, who, to win a kingdom, professed himself a Catholic. He stood out against the Eegency of Marie de Medici, till, being weary of a useless struggle, he withdrew to Geneva in 1620. Protestant ascendancy appeared to be an impossibility in France. D'Aubigne* was well received in the Protestant Koine, and was put in command of the soldiery of the Eepublic. At Geneva he published his Histoire Universelle, which begins and ends with his own times, some memoirs, and two satires, directed against courtiers faithless in religion, and against the corruption prevailing amongst the aristocracy. Though Protestant in tone, the satires were too free in treatment to please the Church authori- ties in Geneva. Like Marot before him, like the printer and scholar, Etienne, he received shabby treat- 66 French Literature ment from the small-minded ecclesiastical court. These were, however, mere pin-thrusts, but a real grief was reserved for him in the misconduct and apostasy of his son. This son became father to Madame de Maintenon. D'Aubigne* began to write his satires in 1577, sur- rounded by the uproar of battles and the excitement of camp-life. They were, however, published only at the beginning of the seventeenth century, and the seven of them are known under the name of Tragiques. They afford a striking picture of the disorder of the times, of the horrors of civil war, of the wrong-doing of kings and nobles, of the vices of princes, of the dupli- city of lawyers, of the tortures inflicted upon the Protestants, of the battles between Huguenots and Catholics, of the penalties meted out by God to His enemies, and of the final judgment passed on the guilty and the guiltless. Nothing could equal the powerful rush and sweep of this poetry, in which in- dignation seems to have dictated every word. There is hardly anywhere a soft or tender touch upon which the mind could rest for a while. MATHURIN E^GNIER, born at Chartres, was the nephew of a rich ecclesiastic, who had made most of his money by writing light poetry. Yet Ke'gnier's father did not wish to see his son become a poet, and prepared to secure at once for him a comfortable com- petency in the Church. So Re'gnier took holy orders, and went to Rome as the chaplain of Cardinal de Joyeuse. He stayed altogether for about ten years in Renaissance and Reformation Period 67 Italy, and became thereby well acquainted with Italian literature. After depending for some time on others for his living, he received, in 1606, a church pension. From that moment, he could follow his own poetic bent. Unfortunately he availed himself of his leisure to indulge also in excesses of various kinds. Hence there fell to his lot a premature old age and early death. Boileau described Ke'gnier as having been a student and follower of the ancient authors. This is a mistake ; for Kegnier was, above all, his own follower. He even looked upon himself as the first French satirist, in ignorance of the numerous predecessors to whom he is undoubtedly kin. The general types of humanity which are the staple of his satire are, by him, indi- vidualised, and show themselves in personal aspects. Being a satirist, and a man who knew his own mind in literary matters, he set himself up in opposition to Malherbe, and upheld against him the ideas of Eonsard, from sheer love of contradiction. Every man of letters in France has recognised the merit of ' free ' Eegnier. Boileau praises him for his vigour in depicting character and manners. Musset marks him as the forerunner of Moliere. We may be satisfied in recognising in him one of the poets in whom the traditions of the esprit fran$ais are best preserved. LARIVEY. The best known comic writer of the six- teenth century is Pierre Larivey, a Florentine, who trans- lated his name into French, but remained an Italian withal. He imitated in French the plays of his own 68 French Literature country, and had recourse also to Latin playwrights. His best comedy is Les Esprits. His plays have the usual defects of Italian plays they depend on the plot for interest, the characters are not worked out, and the comic element is derived from the situations in which the personages are placed. The language is often coarse. The school of Eonsard had undertaken to renovate the French theatre by imitating the ancients. In 1548, the Parliament of Paris having forbidden the acting of Biblical plays, the field was open for the PUiade, and the youngest of its members undertook to occupy it. This was Jodelle. He was no more able than Eonsard to command the attention of the people. His plays were acted practically with closed doors before a select audience, and did not survive him. Gamier did better. He endeavoured to produce characters in keeping with history or tradition. He fell into the fault of imitating Seneca, and shares in his defects, bombast, affectation, and declamation. EABELAIS was born at Chinon in Touraine. He was handed over, very young, to the monks in the abbey of Seuilly. Near Augers, at La Basmette, whither he was sent next, he formed a friendship with the brothers Du Bellay. He became a monk in 1509, and studied zealously the ancient languages and several modern ones. His fellow-monks persecuted him for his know- ledge. They were unable to forgive him his acquaint- ance with Greek. He tried to improve his position Renaissance and Reformation Period 69 by passing into another monastic order. He became a Benedictine this time. Yet he was still so hampered, on all sides, that he fled from the convent. Eabelais was clearly advancing towards heresy, but as he did not care to face persecution, he turned to the compara- tively safe study of medicine. He was busy with anatomy, with the reading of Galen and of Hippocrates, and with medical practice, till he published at Lyons, in 1533, the first book of the Faicts et prouesses du tres renomme' Pantagruel. The ecclesiastical censors at the Sorbonne looked askance at this publication, so Jean Du Bellay took Eabelais away with him to Rome very opportunely. Two years later came out Gargantua. In 1536, Rabelais was again in Rome. He obtained leave from the Pope to practise medicine, and to remain a priest at the same time, while the Cardinal, his pro- tector, gave him a canonry. The remaining books of Pantagruel came out after this at irregular intervals. The contents of his books exposing him again to ecclesi- astical censure, he went to Metz, where he practised for a while the medical art. Then he returned to Rome for the third time, and was successful enough to obtain from the royal favour, in 1550, the living at Meudon. Rabelais may have been prevented by personal con- siderations from himself fulfilling the duties of a parish priest. He even appears to have resigned his office before publishing the fourth and last book of Pantagruel, containing the most violent attacks upon the Church. The Sorbonue forbade the book, but Francis I. stood up in its defence. There is no reason to believe that 70 French Literature Rabelais on his death-bed made the flashy and unseemly remarks attributed to him by some writers. In Rabelais' book, as it is now traditional to print it, the account of the childhood, education, and wars of Gargantua precedes that of the travels of his son Panta- gruel. The fantastic element in the web of the story is derived from legends about the wonderful doings and sayings of certain giants, which were a common heir- loom of the people in some parts of France. It is idle to look in Rabelais' book for a satire on chivalry written of set purpose. Considerations of that kind really apply to the Don Quixote of Cervantes, and need not be transferred from the elucidation of the Spanish author to that of the Frenchman. Nor is there a con- nected allegory in Rabelais, though transparent allusions are continually made to the men and things of the six- teenth century in a spirit of criticism that gives to the work much of its value. Rabelais is no reformer, but he knew full well where reform was needed. He is a moralist in word, in whom the courage or the will to be a moralist in deed was failing. It may be that he did not believe enough in human nature to see in its frailties anything more than a literary theme. The adventures of Gargantua and Pantagruel were written at intervals, and then put together somewhat loosely. Rabelais appears to have kept adding to his work almost through- out his life. After describing in his first chapters the birth and boyhood of Gargantua, he becomes all at once serious when he reaches the subject of that young giant's education. Rabelais is here ahead of his time. Renaissance and Reformation Period 71 He breaks with scholasticism and authority; he sketches an education conceived in the spirit of the humanist, and of the modern natural philosopher. Later in the work the subject of education is again touched upon in a letter which Gargantua in his manhood writes to his son Pantagruel. Before Gargantua has had time to complete his education in the University of Paris he is summoned back by his father, who has been attacked by his vicious and despotic neighbour King Picrochole. The young man is put in command of his father's armies, and defeats completely the aggressor. In the course of the campaign he receives assistance from Friar Jean, a physically powerful and mentally health- ful monk, whose manliness supplies a living satire on the monastic orders. Friar Jean becomes a faithful companion of Gargantua's, who builds for him the Abbey of Thelema, an ideal resort for gentlemen and gentlewomen, where life is arranged on plans which are in glaring contrast with every known monastic rule. Then Eabelais passes on to describe the adventures of Gargantua's son, Pantagruel. He is educated very much on the same lines as Gargantua had been. In the course of his travels in France, he meets with Panurge, who fills in this second part of the work very much the same office as Friar Jean in the first, though in a somewhat different spirit. Panurge can be described as Friar Jean minus morality, and as a piece of literary invention he stands on a par with the Fal- staff of Shakespeare, the Sancho PanQa of Cervantes, and the Figaro of Beaumarchais. Pantagruel and J2 French Literature Panurge set out on a long voyage in the search of truth, complicated by certain subsidiary questions as to whether Panurge should marry or not. The band of travellers pass from island to island, in each of which some faulty institutions, or the vices of some class of society, are allegorically represented. At last the Oracle of the Bottle is reached. Its high priest intro- duces to the goddess the party of truth-seekers, and she vouchsafes the answer, 'triuk,' which word is inter- preted as bearing the sense of the French word bois, or in English, ' drink.' It appears, therefore, that truth is not to be received into the mind by the channel of the ears, belonging properly to knowledge only, but that truth is to be absorbed directly into the substance of man, somewhat in the same way as a draught of good wine cheers the cockles of the heart. The moral philo- sophy of Eabelais is given in two maxims, engraved in the Temple of the Bottle, on two adamantine tables, namely, that all things move towards their ends, and that destiny leads by the hand the willing man, but drags along the unwilling. The moral lessons taught by Rabelais are, therefore, three at least. There is the educational lesson which is thoroughly taken to heart now-a-days. The political esson condemning wars of conquest, and describing the king as the first servant of his people, has seen its wisdom theoretically accepted. In his social lesson he brands particularly the idle and wicked sloth of monks, the greed of lawyers, and the corruption of magi- strates. Renaissance and Reformation Period 73 Viewed simply as a service to letters, the influence and usefulness of Rabelais cannot be over-estimated. French was in danger of being smothered under foreign and classical influence when he turned to the popular dialects of France, and brought their most effective words and drastic terms within the pale of literary language. Humorous writers, both in France and out of France, acknowledge a debt to him. La Fontaine borrowed from him many themes, and some most expressive names. Racine took from him the char- acter of Dandin in the comedy entitled Les Plaideurs. Voltaire, in his onslaughts upon ecclesiastical abuses and against the theological spirit, borrowed some of his sharpest shafts from Rabelais. Docteur Pancrace in Moliere's Le Manage Ford is to some extent descended from Panurge. Montesquieu describes the feather- headedness of the Parisians in words that bear the stamp of Rabelais' lighter irony. Pascal, who, as a moralist, may be excused for disowning Rabelais, learned surely from him the art of making his adversaries ridi- culous, in those parts of his exposure of the Jesuits, where, by the accumulation of terms, he obtains strik- ing ironical effects. Rabelais had followers in Germany, and some of his warmest admirers are Germans. In England there is a humorous disposition in the national character which makes Rabelais appear almost a Briton. Bacon called him ' the great railer of France.' Robert Burton read him over and over again before writing his ' Anatomy of Melancholy.' There is many a page in Sterne's 74 French Literature Tristram Shandy, and in Swift's G-ulliver, that Eabelais suggested ; and it is evident to any reader of Southey's ' Doctor,' that the lakist knew his Kabelais well. The first English translator was Sir Thomas Urquhart. He has of late been translated again by Walter Besant, and extracts from his works have been repeatedly Englished. The ordinary accusation brought up against Eabelais is, that even in his gravest moods, he was never absolutely sincere ; and the unbounded licence characterising many of his chapters is given in proof. The indecency is indeed undeniable, but there is nothing serious about it, and nothing could be more removed from a deliberate teaching of laxity in morals. MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. The placing of this lady next to Eabelais suggests a malicious comparison which would not be quite without foundation. She gathered about her a large number of literary men, who, strange to say, combined decided Protestant leanings in religion with the exercise of the most unruly vigour of life and poetic talent of a high order. She fought in her own way the fight for liberty of conscience. No blame can attach to her personal character; she was a steadfast friend, and to all appearance a blameless woman. Yet in literature she belongs to the school of Boccaccio and of Chaucer. Her wit as displayed in the Heptamfron is as good as French wit will ever be ; but the subject matter of the stories in which it sparkles had been better left to masculine hands. CALVIN. This outstanding reformer could not bear Renaissance and Reformation Period 75 Rabelais, and the Heptamtron could find no more favour with him. In morals, as iii literature, his part is that of a disciplinarian, he is always serious in purpose, always grave and sharp in manner, somewhat narrow-minded as a moralist, wonderfully strenuous as a church reformer, and wielded, to all appearance, a greater force in the history of the world than even Luther. He was born at Noyon, in Picardy. His father intended him to enter the Law. He studied at Paris in the famous Montaigu College, on the benches of which Ignatius Loyola and Erasmus sat. From the study of law he passed to that of divinity. The death of his father brought him back to Noyon for a time; hence he returned to Paris, and became the leader of a few young men who were groping in the dark after better spiritual things. The authorities at the Sorbonne 1 were not slow in noting him as a dangerous youth. He left France at a moment when the affair of the handbills, previously alluded to, was bringing trouble upon the unwary few who had shared in this attempt to emulate the posting of the theses by Luther. Calvin addressed from Bale a formal and stirring epistle to the ' very Christian king, his prince and sovereign lord.' The epistle was reproduced in print in the following year at the beginning of the Institution Chrttienne, the master-work on which Cal- vin's reputation rests as a stylist, as a logician, and as a divine. There is nothing in the method of this book to remind one of scholastic philosophy, or of the intel- 1 The theological college in the University of Paris. 76 French Literature lectual fabrics of the Middle Ages. For Calvin, the Christian religion is made for man, and nothing may stand between it and the soul. Theological ideas, such as that of predestination, though they do come within the scope of that work, diminish in no wise its merit in setting forth a more human religion. From Bale Calvin went to Ferrara, where he strengthened Rene'e of France in the Protestant faith, and had occa- sion to meet Clement Marot. When Ferrara became unsafe for both, he turned his steps towards Geneva, where his ideas on ecclesiastical discipline resulted in his temporary exclusion from the city by the liberal party. But we find him again in the town in 1541, and from that day he established himself firmly in the city, as a reformer of church and morals. His influence, however, remained purely personal, and it is a mistake to speak of him as having held in Geneva a formal Dictatorship for twenty-three years. From Geneva he held in his hands the threads of the anti-Roman agitation, which came near overwhelming the Popes. In language, his work is exactly the counterpart of that of Rabelais. The mind of Calvin was, above all, a logical and strict one. He strove after putting an argument in the most precise and simple way, and brought it to its conclusion in the sharpest and most direct manner. His Institution Chrttienne was first written by him in Latin, and then turned by his own hand into French. His intellect was nurtured on the close binding processes of Latin syntax, and French prose received thereby from him a drill in accuracy Renaissance and Reformation Period 77 which benefited it for all ensuing times. Descartes and Pascal wrote French after him with the same con- sciousness that Latin syntax was the natural ideal for a French writer to keep in view. AMYOT. This writer is a Hellenist, very much in the same sense as Calvin may be said to have been a Latinist. We are with him in presence of, as it were, a third set of influences in the shaping of the French language, and in the moulding of French moral philosophy. In Marot and Re'gnier we saw the continuation of the sound French mediaeval literary traditions. In Ronsard, in Eabelais, and in Calvin, Latin is, on the whole, the nearest model. Now, in Amyot we see a writer who writes in a form that is to become classical, and which was suggested by an acquaintance with Greek, without being in any way an imitation of that language. In point of time Amyot comes after Rabelais and Calvin, and in point of art he introduces a style that is an improvement upon both. He was born at Melun, went to Paris to study, and kept himself alive during that time by doing menial work for his richer schoolfellows. His mother sent him from home much of the bread he ate, and he made up for the lack of candle-light by reading his authors before a coal fire. At nineteen he was a Master in Arts, then he studied the law, was a pro- fessor, an abbot, a kind of king's messenger at the Council of Trent, the tutor of two royal princes, and, last but not least, a persevering translator from Plu- 78 French Literature tarch. While he was teaching Greek he wrote his Theagene et CharicUe, a smooth and sweet rendering of a Greek novel, which Racine read in his youth while pacing to and fro under the trees at Port Koyal des Champs. Another of his minor works is Daphnis et Chloe". The bulk of his labours and his most influen- tial contribution to literature are found in his Les vies des homines illustres grecs et romains, translate'es du grec en fran$ois, followed thirteen years later by his translation of the Moral Essays of Plutarch. We may say that from this unique intercourse of Amyot with Plutarch arose a fresh element in the literary evolu- tion of France. In the first place, since the great prose works in the various European languages in the six- teenth century were epoch-making in the development of their several literatures, it is of some interest to find that while translations of the Bible determined the prose style in Germany, England, and other northern countries, this style was fixed in France partly by the reproduction of Plutarch's works. The results of this peculiarity reached beyond the mere matter of form. The moral attitude of Plutarch, his conception of the affairs of life, the heroic examples of virtue and of self- restraint contained in his parallel lives, were gradually instilled into French society, and became implicitly a part of the training given to French youth. The easy- going philosophy of life of the French has a great deal to do with Plutarch, such as he was when elaborated by Amyot and Montaigne to suit the predisposition of the French. Generations of French schoolboys have Renaissance and Reformation Period 79 received Les vies des homines illustres grecs et remains as prize-books, and J. J. Eousseau, when he put in the hands of his typical pupil, Emile, the book of Robinson Crusoe, that it might be to him as a finger-post towards a life more conformable to nature, gave him also Amyot's Lives as an antidote to the dangers and evils of over-civilisation. LA BOE"TIE is more famous for his friendship with Montaigne than for his actual literary performance. He was at an early age a councillor in the Parliament of Bordeaux, a name which should not be taken in the English sense of the word, but as defining a local board of magistrates whose business it was to fix the pro- vincial taxes and to transact other legal and adminis- trative business. La Boetie's famous pamphlet is known under two names, La Servitude volontaire and Le Contr'un. As this latter name indicates, it is a protest against the tyranny exercised over a whole people by any one man. The occasion of it was a bloodthirsty revenge taken in the name of Henry n. on a rebellious uprising in Bordeaux against the imposition of a tax by the king. The affection felt by Montaigne for him is recorded in the essays of the latter. MONTAIGNE was born in the castle of that name in the Perigord. His father showed in the education of his son how little he cared to countenance the pre- judices of the aristocratic class. The boy was entrusted to the care of a German tutor and sent away with him 8o French Literature to a iarra, where Latin alone was spoken by master and servants. At that rate Montaigne reached the age of six before knowing anything about his native tongue. For a long time the child dwelt in the country among the people, so that he might gain respect for them while having the advantages of a natural and healthy mode of living. At the College of Guyenne, in Bordeaux, young Montaigne may have sat at the feet of George Buchanan, the famous Scotch humanist and reformer. Though Latin was the staple subject in the college, Montaigne managed to pick up there some little French. His friendship with La Boetie was formed when he entered practical life in the Parliament of Bordeaux. In 1566 he married, not from inclination as we may presume, since there is a famous saying of his that he would have refused to marry even wisdom, should wisdom have made him an offer. In 1570 he gave up his connection with the legal profession that he might withdraw into his castle to live and write there at his ease. The Essais were the outcome of ten years of meditation and solitary reflection on the things of the world. We have an amusing account of a journey he took in Germany, in Switzerland, and in Eome. From 1581, a year after the publication of the first edition of the Essais, and immediately after the above-mentioned journey, he was called to the office of Mayor in Bordeaux. How- ever, the plague broke out. and he turned his back on it, in spite of his official duties. During the Civil War he sided with neither party, and was exposed to the attacks of both, He died a Roman Catholic, merely in Renaissance and Reformation Period 8 1 compliance with the religious habits in which he was reared. The Essais of Montaigne were suggested to him by reading Amyot's rendering of Plutarch's moral works. They were the first of their kind in modern / literature, and after them that kind of writing became fashionable among moralists far and wide. It must ' be recognised that Montaigne's style is far from the smoothness of his model, though in point of energy, picturesqueness, and terseness, he far outreaches him. In point of philosophy, Montaigne has been called the wisest Frenchman that ever existed, an epithet which should be taken in the Greek sense of the word, with a less noble meaning than attaches to Sophos and a worthier than is usually connected with Sophistes. Montaigne treats of practical or applied morals as an experienced and accommodating man of the world might be expected to do if possessed of an especial insight and of much versatility. The views expressed by Montaigne bear so decisively on life that one's first impulse on reading him is to grant that he is right, but on proceeding to second thoughts it becomes evident that his plausibility in dealing with the con- tradictory aspects presented by human affairs entails powerlessness in practical life, and that no greatness of soul can be reared on the basis afforded by him. Montaigne has no method. He talks about this or that topic, and passes from one to another without any visible bond between them. He is in turn engaged with the moods, passions, virtues, and vices of men. He comments on the manners and customs of peoples ; 82 French Literature he has his say on religion, politics, education ; he gives us his own reflections and conclusions, the latter of which are usually inconclusive, along with quotations from ancient writers. If he has any object in his dis- cursive meditation, it appears at first sight to be the study of himself ; but it soon becomes evident, greatly to his credit, that self for him is a convenient name to betoken the average nature of men in general. Mon- taigne professes to hold that man is all vanity, all change and shiftiness. He is at war with every posi- tive conception of man's place in nature and office on earth. You should never say ' I know,' you should never even say ' I do not know,' but you should limit yourself to saying, ' Do I know anything ? ' Such is his doctrine. If we turn our eyes from its paradoxical aspect, Montaigne's view amounts to this, that we should exert the greatest moderation, the best common sense, the truest reason, in judging of all things about us, that there is nothing in man or out -of man between heaven and earth, about which man is able to pronounce judgment without reservation. There is an undeniable modesty and humility in this mental position, repulsive as it may be to the less thoughtful and more decided temperaments of the race. On some particular points Montaigne is, indeed, very wise. He has greatly con- tributed to the formation of sound views in education. He objects to bulky and pedantic learning. The de- velopment of judgment and understanding should be entrusted to a tutor who is right-headed rather than a mere store-house of knowledge. Books are good, Renaissance and Reformation Period 83 indeed, but things beheld in their natural aspects are the best teachers. Nor should a schoolmaster conde- scend to instruct his pupils from the height of his superior knowledge as from the top of a tower, but he should let himself down to the level of the mind he trains, and teach without continual recourse to autho- rity, which is only another way of trading on the ignorance of the pupil. Those who have read and been delighted with Montaigne form in most countries a goodly number of followers. He was translated into English by an Italian, Giovanni Florio. To Samuel Daniel he appeared, in 1602, to be the prince or rather the king of thoughtful men, fond of an easy and practi- cal wisdom. Florio's translation was revised by Cotton and again by Hazlitt. The copy of Montaigne which was thumbed by Shakespeare, and bears his notes, is still shown at the British Museum. Montaigne may well have stood as a link between Shakespeare and Plutarch. CHAPTER V. FIRST PERIOD OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY, TILL THE MAJORITY OF LOUIS XIV. IN 1661. Lyric Poetry. FRANCOIS DE MALHERBE (1555-1628) : corrects the language and brings poetry under strict rules. Odes, stances, psaumes. MAYNARD (1582-1646) : disciple of Malherbe. RACAN (1589-1670) : Odes, stances, les Bergeries. Dramatic Poetry. ROTROU (1609-1650) : tragedies, comedies, tragi- comedies. SCARRON (1610-1660) : burlesque plays. PIERRE CORNEILLE (1606-1684) : Le Cid (1636), a tragedy taken from Spanish history. Horace (1638), l tragedies taken from Roman history. (Jinna (1639), J Polyeucte (1640), a tragedy taken from early Christian history. Le Menteur (1642), a comedy of manners. Prose. BALZAC (1594-1655) : Lettres. VOITURE (1598-1648) : Lettres. VACGELAS (1585-1650) : Remarques sur la langue fran^aine. DESCARTES (1596-1650).: Discours de la Methode (1637). PASCAL (1623-1662) : Lettres provinciates (1656). Pensees, published after his death. ANTOINE ARNAULD (1612-1696), and the Gentlemen of Port Royal. MEZERAY (1610-1683) Histoire de France. SCARRON : Roman Comique. CYRANO DE BERGERAC (1620-1655) : Romans fantastiquts. Mile. DE SCUDERY (1607-1701) : Le grand Cyrus, Clelie. ACADEMIE FRANfAISE. H6TEL DE RAMBOUILLKT. 84 First Period of the Seventeenth Century 85 MALHERBE,belonging to a noble family of Caen, studied in his native town, in Paris, in Bale and in Heidelberg. When he was of age, he entered the service of a noble- man, and remained for ten years in Provence. After the death of his first patron he entered the army. In 1605, he came to settle in Paris, and entered the estab- lishment of the Due de Bellegarde. He gathered and indoctrinated his disciples in the little room which he occupied in that nobleman's house. He took up early the attitude of a critic, and his sharpness of tongue made him enemies. Regnier wrote one of his satires against him in which he compares him to a pedestrian poet without imagination, while tacitly reserving for himself the part of an inspired poet. Though Malherbe was really more of a critic than of a poet, he had no mean idea of his lyric talent the two following lines tend to prove it : Qs{Y~JS*\ Les ouvrages communs durent quelques anndes ; * Ce que Malherbe ecrit, dure eternellement. In spite of the manifest exaggeration of his self-esteem, in which he was encouraged by Boileau, who hailed in him the first harmonious poet in France, he has certain qualities of a kind that could find greater recognition in the seventeenth century than we can give them now. He professed to expel from the language every foreign expression, and every phrase which was not in keeping with the purest national tendency in speech. For him, the best French was that spoken by the common people, though his odes are very far from being written in a 86 French Literature popular strain. Yet he made it his duty throughout his life, in prose style and in conversation, to enforce the use of accurate and precise terms. He was a gram- marian at heart. Balzac called him the tyrant of words and of syllables, and, he added, ' I am moved to pity by a man who sees so much difference between ' pas ' and ' point,' who discusses gerunds and participles as if they were two great and neighbourly countries engaged in hot debate over their boundaries. After many years of toil he had not succeeded in freeing the Court from provincialisms.' Malherbe was not a prolific poet. In the best years of his life he composed on an average thirty lines a year. He spoilt large quantities of paper in building up and then in taking to pieces a single stanza. He published his work only when he had nothing more to correct in it, and it was one of his sayings that after writing a hundred lines, a poet may take a rest for ten years. There is more elevation and nobility in his strains than enthusi- asm, more of the reasoning and critical faculty than of the poetic. A most cautious writer, ever in distress about the Tightness of his phrases, he could never attain to true freedom and spontaneous inspiration or to nat- ural simplicity. He offers the interesting spectacle of a man who had the greatest influence on his own age and the next, who claimed to derive inspiration from the best Greek and Latin models, who on the other hand saw well enough that he must not cut his language away from that of the people, yet, with all that, only succeeded in doing a negative kind of work ; and in First Period of the Seventeenth Century 87 actually clipping the wings of French poetry for a very long time. MAYNAKD. The foremost immediate disciples of Malherbe are Maynard, Eacan and Balzac. These three writers are all very much his inferiors. Nevertheless, the first of them deserves more praise than he usually receives. It was his bad fortune to be kept during his lifetime far from Paris in the discharge of various official duties in the provinces. There is perhaps less classical and critical affectation in Maynard than in Malherbe. His lines are truer to life, because a little more remote from conscious art ; and they can be read now-a-days as easily as if they had been written but yesterday. KACAN lived with Malherbe for ten years. He was a diligent and teachable pupil, even a grateful and re- spectful one. For instance, while translating the Psalms (it is interesting to see how many poets without any real creative force followed Marot's example in trans- lating or paraphrasing the Psalms), he would not try his hand on those which his master had already trans- lated, and some of his best lines had for a canvas bits of prose by Malherbe. The Bergeries of Eacan belong to what is called pastoral poetry. They are a tedious drama without any dramatic interest, in which towns- people, dressed up as shepherds for a holiday in the country, as it were, express affected sentiments. Yet Eacan, who spent most of his life in the country, who was genuinely fond of it, and able to realise its beauties 88 French Literature in a right spirit, could not but occasionally rise above his own dull level. He sounds here and there a very pure note, a note that is seldom met with in French poetry, that of utter simplicity and of sheer naturalness with a touch of discreet emotion. The faults of Mal- herbe and his followers are a very good example of the weakness that affected the whole of the development of French literature from that date. French men of letters are extremely sensitive to criticism, they are prone to write from critical standards rather than from their own nature and instincts. On the other hand, this period exemplifies also a corresponding quality : the intense conscientiousness and devotion to an ideal distinct from themselves, which raises French writers to a level of continued excellence, and to a consistency in literary methods less known and less cared for in other coun- tries. Owing to their greater intellectual sensitiveness, the French, in their standards of literature as in their standards of morals and political activity, are most amenable to authority, and as authority driven to ex- treme in any one direction brings about in due course a revulsion from it to an equally extreme authority in the opposite direction, they present in their history re- peated swayings from one literary pole to another, and from one political extreme to the opposite. ROTIIOU was born at Dreux. He was brought to Paris in early youth, and wrote his first poetry at school. His first play was put on the stage when he was nineteen years old. His words in its preface are First Period of the Seventeenth Century 89 those of a modest and sensible young man. ' There are some excellent poets/ he wrote, 'but none are so at the age of twenty.' He did his best work in the last years of his life, for he died in his prime. His Saint Genest, a free imitation from the Spaniard, Lope De Vega, is his most original production, and may well be considered the most peculiar drama composed in that century. It deals with an actor who, playing before Diocletian the part of a Christian martyr, is suddenly overpowered by the force of the sentiments he utters, declares his faith, and accepts martyrdom in earnest. Another play entitled Venceslas, also trace- able to a Spanish source, is less original and more con- ventionally perfect. On the whole, Eotrou gives signs of discomfort under the heavy armour of outer, formal rules with which the critics, assisted by the social tone of the day, were burdening playwrights. Although he has greatly imitated the ancients and the Spaniards, the personal turn of his talent gives a definite character to his work. In France, in the seventeenth century literary individualism was becoming impossible, and an author's personality was necessarily kept under in the conscious effort to receive from others the work pro- duced in any given genre, and carry on further the development of the tradition. Eotrou had this honour, at least, of not being disowned. He kept his place in the chain; Eacine, Moliere, Eegnard, La Motte, gave him all the best acknowledgment they could give as upholders of the classical tradition. They joined their work on to his by borrowing freely from him. The 9O French Literature death of Rotrou was that of a generous-minded and dutiful man. Though generally an absentee from his native town, he held there the office of lieutenant representing the king's authority. Dreux was plague- stricken in 1650; Eotrou repaired thither at once. A few days later, in the faithful discharge of his public office, he was struck down at the age of 41. SCARRON belongs to the side-walks of French litera- ture. He ranks with those second-rate authors who were extremely popular in Paris society before the classical ideal was definitely accepted, and whose fame was cut to the ground, not without justice, by Boileau, the second in date, and most enduringly powerful critic in matters poetical. Scarron, however, was more lucky than Chapelain, who succumbed to Boileau, after a dictatorship of forty years in the Paris drawing-rooms, especially at the Hotel de Eambouillet, and in the new Academic Franchise, for which he criticised the Cid of Corneille, and sketched the first authoritative dictionary. Scarron was, at any rate, the upholder of a literary genre known under the name of burlesque, and only fell when this kind of production lost favour with thj public. He was attacked with paralysis at the age of twenty-eight. Being compelled thereby to spend the remainder of his life in an arm-chair, he sought relief from his pains in such poetry as would remind him least of them ; so he took to playing the literary fool on the most extensive scale. His burlesques are now quite forgotten, except as curiosities j but his Roman comique, First Period of the Seventeenth Century 9 i written in prose, has obtained in our own day a favour which did not fall to its lot at the time of the writing of it; for it is written in the truest vein of nature, relating as it does the unvarnished adventures of a company of actors travelling in the provinces. For strict accuracy in description, for close observation of things, and knowledge of men as they are, Scarron is entitled to rank as forerunner of the so-called modern realistic school The French burlesque epics were suggested by the Italian Renaissance epics of the same kind, and stand, through them, in relationship with the decayed chansons de geste that were written in the latest Middle Ages. They were but toys contrived in order to amuse fashionable society. The Paris drawing- rooms were then exerting a narrowing influence on the literary development of France, as they have done ever since. How could it be otherwise when Corneille and Racine sought for their plays the applause of the same people whom Scarron delighted, and from whom they were not strong enough to set themselves free ? COENEILLE. The works of Corneille are a long com- promise between the claims of the Paris salons and the native independence of his dramatic gifts. He was born at Rouen. His father was in the Civil Service of the State. Corneille studied in the Jesuit College at Rouen. He was an advocate at eighteen, and purchased shortly after two legal charges, in which he did his duty faithfully for twenty years. Rouen stood next to Paris in its appreciation of things theatrical. One day 92 French Literature Corneille brought to a Parisian actor passing through Rouen a newly-written comedy called Mttite. The play was acted in Paris, and attended by enormous success. Having thus become famous, Corneille was introduced to Richelieu. This cardinal and statesman boasted that he would be as good a performer on the theatrical stage as he actually was on the political. He brought together a few writers, whom he siipplied with plans, and whom he expected to build up plays on these foundations. Corneille became one of those hired assistants. However, his independence of character broke out and raised Richelieu's anger. He gave up his place in the literary quintet, and came back to Rouen to write Mtdte in peace. This was his first tragedy, and he had gone to ancient authors for it. Unfortunately, his choice fell upon Seneca, a second- rate writer. Yet the study of this Latin model assisted Corneille in throwing off the bonds of spurious Italian art. He now parted company with the bombast, high- flown rhetoric, and uselessly complicated plots that had obtained a footing in France. M6de was perhaps written with too much literary purity and too straight- forwardly to find favour with the misguided taste of the public. At any rate, Corneille laid down for a while his tragic pen, and donned again the bells and cap of comedy. His Illusion Comique was his next work, a play which the present generation applauded when it was acted again at the Come'die Fran9aise in 1861. A tew months after the Illusion Comique came Le Cid, which is reputed one of Corneille's very finest efforts. First Period of the Seventeenth Century 93 The subject is taken from a Spanish writer, Guillem de Castro, but actual imitation goes for very little in this play, where Corneille's own inspiration shows itself more freely than in almost any other tragedy of his. Corneille puts in the Cid for the first time on the stage that conflict of duty and honour on the one side against passion on the other, which was to become his favourite psychological theme. To explain this, once for all, we may give an outline of this play in a very few words, and leaving out the proper names. A maiden, who is the daughter of a noble and exacting father, is in love with a young warrior. Unfortunately, in pur- suance of the code of honour accepted among men of his class, the young warrior is called upon to kill in a duel the father of the woman he loves. The girl's sense of honour and of duty to her father stands henceforth between her and her love, between the young man and the bride he fain would have. Events belonging to the history of the times affect diversely the course and issue of the debate. In the Cid the maiden resists every temptation from within and from without in order that she may remain faithful to her standard of honour. The other best plays of Corneille are variations on this theme. There was a moral novelty in this con- ception of the drama that speedily won the affections of the public. Corueille's rivals, who represented the classical tradition so far as it was already formed, were fairly entitled to look upon him as an innovator, and to form against him a league in self-defence. Eichelieu 94 French Literature used Chapelain to draw up a critical report on the Cid, and sent it to the Acade'mie Franchise to be endorsed. The members of the Acade'mie were all, more or less, in Bichelieu's pay. Had they been willing to resist his demands on literary grounds, they could hardly have done so, compelled as they were to take into considera- tion less worthy motives. Besides, Eichelieu had, on certain issues, a fair case to make out. The play breathed forth the pride and high honour of the Spanish, with whom France was then at war, whose armies had been on the point of over-running the country, and whose literary influence was threatening to make of Paris a satellite to Madrid. Then the point of honour upheld in the play found its satisfaction in the fighting of duels, a practice which Kichelieu was then putting down in France with a stern and wise hand. In the Sentiments de L'Acaddmie sur le Cid, the so-called classical tradition is strictly held. The play was declared to be against the rules, and from that date French plays were expected to be regular. This meant that playwrights were to comply with the rule of the so-called unities. The action was to be one and single throughout the play. Only such subjects were to be chosen as would, in the world of reality, work them- selves out in one and the same place ; and further, no subject was to be put on the stage whose enacting in reality should extend over a longer period than twenty- four hours. Aristotle's authority was claimed for these rules, but Aristotle nowhere expresses them with the rigidity given to them by the French. From that First Period of the Seventeenth Century 95 moment Corneille lost some of his self-confidence. He made the mistake of taking seriously the Academic apparatus of criticism. He was frightened away from indulging his natural bent by the fuss made about the rules. He dared no longer write anything without wondering whether the Academy would approve of it, and whether Aristotle would have thought well of it. He found in Livy the theme of his next play, Horace.. His Cinna also originates in an episode of Eoman history, but in his Polyeucte he turns away from the pagan world as Racine did too at a certain crisis in his life and seeks dramatic inspiration in the martyr- dom of the early Christians. Shortly after he returned to the comic vein, and gave Le Menteur, the first French comedy of the classical school strictly so called. In the Menteur there is no depicting of individual character in the well-known fashion of Shakespeare, but an in- vented personage, whose character is made to represent fairly well one of the vices prevalent in mankind, stands forth as the type of all his like. Such a con- ception of comedy presents on the face of it a moral and philosophic aspect, and it was reserved to the French to excel in that kind of writing. Thoroughly French as the Menteur is, the canvas of the play is taken from a Spanish poet, and La suite du Menteur is also from Spanish sources. Corneille came back to tragedy in Eodogune, the last of the plays generally acknowledged to be his best. In 1647 his prestige had become so great that the Academy, which had twice closed its doors against him, threw them open at last 96 French Literature to this master playwright. The latter period of his life was saddened by the decay of his dramatic faculty, by the cares of poverty, and by the rising up of his young rival Eacine. It became evident in the edition of his works which he published in 1660 that Corneille had finally accepted the standards set up by the Academic critics. A further proof of his surrender was afforded in the praise given him by Boileau, whose authority was fast placing itself beyond every possible challenge. From that moment the three rules became a matter of European importance, and made themselves felt in the literature of other countries besides France. BALZAC subjected French prose to the same schooling as Malherbe had applied to poetry. He was Malherbe's disciple, of whom he used to say : ' That man made me swear on his dogmas and on his maxims.' He was a tasteful writer, and, as he reports in his Twentieth Discourse, he was able to foresee and provide for the literary likings of his time. What some were seeking lie found, namely, a certain skill in putting words together, and in allotting them to their right places. He was born at Angoul^me, and went to Holland at the age of seventeen, whereupon he wrote some Discours Politiques on that country. Then he spent three years in Eome, and on his return published his Lettres. These were followed by several treatises: Le Prince, Aristippe, and Le Socrate Chretien. Having fallen into a literary controversy with the Jesuits, and feeling that Itichelieu looked upon him with coolness, he withdrew First Period of the Seventeenth Century 97 from Paris, although he was a member of the Academy, and ended his life on his own country estates. The book entitled Le Prince does not remind one of Fe'nelon's T&maque, nor is it like Machiavelli's H Principe. It is best described as a lengthy piece of flattery addressed to Louis xin. Balzac shows truer feeling when he turns upon the Jesuits. There is a fore-glimmering of the Provinciates in some of his invectives. ' The Court has brought forward certain doctors who have found the means of uniting vice with virtue. Devices are nowa- days provided whereby thieves of other people's property may conscientiously retain it.' The Aristippe is an empty rhetorical production. Balzac speaks in his best tones in the Socrate Chretien, a name which he applies to Christ, giving on the Christian doctrine, on the beginnings of the Church, and on the reading of Holy Scripture some substantial reflections put in a tolerably plain setting. Balzac is, like Malherbe, a harmonious writer. He casts a mould for thoughts without filling it. His style is highly strung ; he aims at being witty ; he was in the habit of ' working out the harmony and the build of a sentence as if personal salvation were at stake.' VOITURE is distinguished from Balzac by being de- cidedly over-witty, while the latter remained reason- able in using his wit. Balzac was a nobleman, Yoiture was the son of a wealthy wine-merchant; but an accepted writer could not but move in the highest circles of society. He sought patronage and received G 98 French Literature it. The merest trifle laid the foundation for his reputa- tion. He had occasion to send a copy of Orlando Furioso to a lady, whom he addressed in the following words : ' This, Madam, is the finest adventure Orlando ever had.' Thanks to the favour in which drawing- room wit of that kind was generally held, he soon found himself an inmate of the Hotel de Kainbouillet. His correspondence is all about nothing, the Lettre sur la Conjonction Car affording a very fair sample of his ability as a writer of pretty nonsense. VATJGELAS. In this man the literary circles of Paris found the grammarian they wanted. He hailed from a French-speaking province, La Bresse, which was not as yet included in the Kingdom of France. A poor man and a thorough provincial at first, he came to move in the most brilliant society. He belonged to Madame de Rambouillet's circle. He knew Balzac, Voiture, and Chapelain. An Academician, he was entrusted with the preparation of the Academy's dictionary. On his death he left some debts, and his assets consisted mainly of his lexicological labours. The Academy, for its own sake, rescued the latter from the clutches of his creditors. The life of Vaugelas was that of 'a grammatical student and linguistic emendator. The tendency of the sixteenth century had all been towards increasing the stock of words and expressions, so as to make it co-extensive with the greatly developed requirements of civilised communities. The tendency of the seventeenth century was, as an offset, all towards First Period of the Seventeenth Century 99 restriction and selection. Malherbe had first set the fashion that way, then had come the Hotel de Eam- bouillet, then the Academic Francaise, then Balzac, and now Vaugelas was to carry on the task. His Bemarques sur la Langue Francaise were put before the public in 1647. Long before that moment, however, his authority in matters of grammar and right usage was unlimited. No grammarian in his age could well be expected to look at the historical side of his subject, so Vaugelas' utter failure in this direction cannot be fairly held to reduce his merit. He was a policeman of the language. He guarded it like a watch-dog against the intrusion of Italian and Spanish words, against the importation of provincialisms in Paris, and against coarse or extravagant phraseology. The Diction- naire de I' Academic, produced in 1694, is composed throughout on the lines laid down by him, and ten years later the Academy put its own stamp on his ' Kemarques ' by issuing an annotated edition of them. Vaugelas experienced how difficult it is to be a gram- marian without passing into a pedant. Moliere, hunt- ing down nicety in language as in morals, names him five times in his Femmes Savantes disparagingly, thereby giving posterity a somewhat unfair idea of his char- acter. Vaugelas was more of a gentleman than of a schoolmaster. DESCARTES was born at La Haye (not in Holland, but in the centre of France). He was brought up by the Jesuits. He received from them the thorough ioo French Literature Latiii and Church education which they knew so well how to give. But his intellectual wants were far from being all satisfied. When he left college, he had made up his mind that he would seek for science nowhere else than within himself, and in the open book of nature. He set to one side the things appertaining to faith as belonging to reaches in which reason was out- stripped, and he submitted to a fresh examination all he had been taught from childhood. At the age of eighteen he was a licentiate in law, then he led for six years a military life in Holland and in Germany, revolving in his mind philosophic matters all the time. In 1620, he caught the first glimpse of his famous method, and in the ensuing nine years he spent his time, according to his own testimony, in wandering about the world endeavouring to be a looker- on rather than a performer in its comedies. He was in Hungary, in Poland, in Switzerland, in Italy. At last, weary of trundling along on all the highroads of Europe, he settled down in Amsterdam, hiding from the crowd both the place of his abode and the subject of his intellectual work, and bringing his life into agreement with the maxim bene vixit qui bene latuit. After spending eight years in meditation, he made up his mind to allow some of his works to appear before the public. He gave out in 1637 the Discours de la me'thode pour bien conduire sa raison et chercher la vtritt dans les sciences. Descartes remained in Holland till 1649, visiting France at intervals. The Queen of Sweden, Christina, was then urging him to visit her in First Period of the Seventeenth Century 101 her kingdom. He yielded to her entreaties in the last- mentioned year, and died at Stockholm five months later from congestion of the lungs. His long residence abroad is not disconnected with the dangers threatening then in France free and independent thinkers. Des- cartes is the first metaphysician who used deliberately and on a large scale the French language for his disqui- sitions. The study of philosophy stepped along with him into the drawing-rooms and social resorts of men. ' I have intended/ says he, in one of his letters, ' to write a book which even women could understand.' That is why he wrote in French, the speech of his countrymen, in preference to Latin, the language of his teachers. He was almost a stranger to the purely literary or political activity of his day. Nurtured on mathematics and on the Latin writings of philosophers, his mind escaped from every smallness and paltriness. His influence on language and on ideas, beginning with the publication of his Discours de la inMhode, was mainly felt in the second half of the century, and reached far beyond the boundary of France. Cartesianism, as his doctrine is called, whose cornerstone is the well-known aphorism, ' Je pense, done je suis,' found general accep- tance in Holland, in Germany, and in France. Out of France the views of Descartes came to be generally held in the universities. In France, where the older kind of metaphysics, still upheld by the Church and the Jesuits, stood in their way, they found their most congenial atmosphere in the societies of laymen, in the drawing- rooms of cultivated ladies, and in the bosom of compara- IO2 French Literature tively independent writers, such as the Port-Eoyalists, Malebranche, Eetz, Bossuet, Fdnelon. The metaphysical side of abstract philosophic research is not what is most prominent in Descartes. There is to his doctrine a practical side, and it is established on positive affirma- tions which served as a counter check to the scepticism in morals that had been imported from Italy. The great writers of the seventeenth century are, in the main, moralists, and they are indebted partly to Des- cartes for the excellent philosophy of life breathed forth in almost all their work. Boileau, who laid it down that to be natural is to be rational, is, to that extent, in literature a disciple of Descartes. Whatever Descartes did for his country, he was not able to render to the cause of science in general so good service as Bacon. Descartes has no distinct method of studying the phe- nomena of the outer world. By failing to give to the senses their proper function in the study of nature, he further strengthened the tendency already established in France towards the abstract consideration of man, and of topics of the moral, the social, and the psycho- logical order. French naturalists were long Cartesians, but in the fulness of time they were converted to the doctrines of Newton. PASCAL. We have alluded to the Gentlemen of Port- Eoyal as followers of Descartes in philosophic method. One of them, however, stood out. This was Pascal. The group of laymen who meditated on moral and theological problems, and educated a few dozen young First Period of the Seventeenth Century 1 03 gentlemen according to principles which are com- paratively modern, and broadly Christian rather than ecclesiastical, had their principal home at Port-Eoyal Des Champs, near Paris. Pascal's first literary work was the result of his connection with them, and brought them the celebrity which befitted their singleness of purpose in education, the earnestness of their convic- tions, and the talent they displayed in many directions. Pascal mistrusted the reason of man as fully as Des- cartes put faith in it. The former was a seeker after Divine truth, the latter after philosophic certainty. Pascal was born at Clermont-Ferrand. His father, himself a savant of a high order, found it necessary at an early stage to put a check on the wonderful intel- lectual energies of his son. Young Pascal showed himself so abnormally gifted in the handling of mathe- matical problems, that from sheer prudence it seemed necessary to refuse him access to that science for a while. By the age of twelve he had discovered anew several propositions of Euclid. At sixteen he was the author of a treatise on conic sections. Up to the age of thirty he continued to be taken up with scientific problems. He devised a reckoning machine. He repeated Torricelli's experiments in physics. Under the strain to which his intellectual ardour put his physical strength his health gave way gradually, and contributed, in the latter period of his life, to turn his meditations into new channels. Up to the age of thirty, Pascal was essentially an intellectual! st, and also a man of the world. After that, concern with questions IO4 French Literature of a spiritual order absorbed his faculties and deter- mined the nature of his literary work. That is the time when he went to Port-Royal and became at second hand a disciple of Bishop Jansenius. At that time Pope Innocent x. had just condemned a set of five theological propositions which had been referred to him by the theo- logical faculty of the University of Paris. These pro- positions purported to be drawn from the Augustinus, a work by Bishop Jansenius, published after his death. The Abb de Saint Cyran, who had known Jansenius personally, had brought the doctrine of the Dutch Bishop to Port-Eoyal as early as 1636, and many of Saint Cyran's friends, both ecclesiastics and laymen, had adopted after him Jansenistic views. The Jansenists were condemned by the Pope, though they argued that the five incriminated propositions were not in Jansenius. Antoine Arnauld, himself a priest, and a doctor of the Faculty, 1 upheld the fairness of the defence set up by the Port-Eoyalists. He received as a reward his dismissal from the Faculty, at the request of the Jesuits. Pascal at once took up the cudgels on behoof of Arnauld. He wrote his first Lettre Provinciate in January 1656, and several more were spread over that year and the fol- lowing. Pascal withheld his name, but he was soon detected. The combined simplicity and power of the letters was so characteristic of Pascal as his relations and friends knew him, that the Lettres Provinciales had hardly appeared when they were set down to him. In the first letters Pascal defends Arnauld. In the fourtli 1 Docleur en Sorbonne. First Period of the Seventeenth Century 105 he passes from a defensive attitude to a policy of aggression. Among the Jesuits, he first attacks the Casuists on account of their lax morality; then he takes to task the Jesuits themselves and all their works. Theological controversies had not hitherto been carried on in French. They had been reserved for treatment in the language of the Church only, that is to say, Latin. So Pascal popularised theological con- troversies much in the same way as Descartes had popularised philosophic controversies. The Jesuits never got over the blows dealt them by Pascal, though they took revenge on the Port-Eoyalists by inducing Louis xiv. to demolish their residence, to scatter their scholars, and to forbid their doctrines. Pascal had entered upon his Crusade against the Jesuits in a spirit of righteous indignation. ' If the Pope condemns me,' he said, 'what I condemn in my letters is surely condemned in heaven.' The Provinciates are a most ironical and powerful piece of special pleading. The manifold talent which they reveal has met with the widest appreciation. Voltaire sees in this book the first work of genius in the French language. According to Vinet, 1 the style of Pascal ' does not stand between his reader and his thought, for it is the thought itself,' unclad, unadorned, alternately broad and pointed, and always irresistible. After giving the Provinciates to the world, Pascal withdrew himself from the field of polemics in which he had shown himself a master for all time, and devoted himself more and more to intro- 1 A greatly esteemed Swiss divine and critic. io6 French Literature spection. He formed a plan of an apology for the Christian religion. This unfinished work is known as his Penstes. In the seventeenth and eighteenth cen- turies, owing to the nature of the questions then in debate, the Provinciates were held in the highest repute. In our times, when the battle of toleration has been fought and won, and when the objectionable morals of the Jesuits are no longer pushed to the front by those who may still hold them, the Penstes command greater attention than the Provinciales. For the subjects broached by Pascal in the Pensdes are ever with us. They flow from the very mystery in which our life and our destiny are wrapped. The Pens&s came only gradually to be known in their present shape. Pascal died when he was thirty-nine years old, after many years of suffering, in which the regularity of his work was greatly interfered with. When he was free from pain he took up his pen and wrote down in jot- tings the thoughts which he formed, and wished to preserve with a view to further elaboration. It was found that the notes collected after his death almost all bore upon that work which Pascal proposed to write in defence of Christian truth. The friends of his who published these fragments were alarmed at his freedom of thought, and also at their unsatisfactory literary condition. They took upon themselves to cut out and alter many passages. In our century only has Pascal been heard by all in the terms in which he spoke to himself on the irreducible contradictions of soul and First Period of the Seventeenth Century \ 07 mind which are at the same time the greatness and the bane of our kind. CYRANO DE BERGERAC is the author of two fantastic romances, where, under pretence of describing the state of affairs in the moon and in the sun, he gives a satire on the manners and ideas of his times. Beyond his originality he has little to recommend him. His writ- ing is most affected. The bad taste made fashionable in Italy by Marini, in Spain by Gongora, and which penetrated into England as euphuism, stamps him be- yond all remedy. He seems to think that in literature all that glitters should be taken for gold. MLLE DE SCUDE"RY. Two kinds of romances at least were cultivated in the first half of the seventeenth century. The pastoral or idyllic romance running into the heroic and chivalrous was at once conventional and idealistic and the most fashionable. Beside it we find some instances of a simple treatment of ordinary incidents of life. These we may almost call realistic novels. The name of Mile de Scudery is attached to the first class, which is also by far the largest. Her Grand Cyrus and her CUlie run up to ten volumes each, and represent in an outer framework borrowed from ancient history nothing else than the manners and the lovemaking of the fashionable classes in her time, with the addition of a touch of courtly heroism and re- finement. FRAN^AISE. This body was founded in io8 French Literature consequence of a general wish to improve the language, and to uphold definite standards in literary art. After Malherbe's death the men of letters who had been disciples of the old poet continued to meet together, in order to cultivate his traditions and his memory. It struck Richelieu that this literary society might be of some use to him, and that it would be a wise piece of state-craft to give it an official organisation. The Malherbists received from him a royal patent, in terms of which the office was entrusted to them of determin- ing the use of words, of increasing the elegance of the language, and of giving it power to treat of all arts and all sciences. The Academic Franchise was registered as a public body in 1637, and henceforth played the part of a universally accepted authority in matters literary. This institution has been greatly admired by critics who care more for purity and distinction of style than for freedom of expression. Matthew Arnold has put before the English public the points which, to his mind, make in favour of such an institution. At the same time, it must be remembered that the useful- ness of a check or drag may be exaggerated, and that many evils have accrued from the extravagant respect in which the Academy was held for a long period. Its first dictionary took half a century to prepare. HOTEL DE EA.MBOUILLET. In this house congregated the noblemen and the ladies who were fond of discuss- ing literary topics, and anxious to meet the men of letters, to whom it was fashionable to extend patronage. First Period of the Seventeenth Century \ 09 Among the notabilities of France in the middle of the seventeenth century, Conde, La Kochefoucauld, the Marquise de La Fayette, Mme de Sevigne, Mile de Scudery, Voiture, Balzac, Racan, Menage, Chapelain, Corneille, and young Bossuet could be met there. The visitors in Mme de Rambouillet's drawing-room who were not saved from affectation by their reason or genius formed a circle of exquisites, given to the small talk of gallantry in the Italian style, and responsible for the bad odour into which Moliere brought the word prtcieux. The use of metaphors in and out of season, and with the most glaring absurdity, reached such a pitch at the Hotel de Eambouillet that at last there was a revolt of common-sense against it. CHAPTER VI. AGE OF LOUIS XIV. (1661-1715.) Miscellaneous Verse. LA FONTAINE (1621-1695): Twelve books of Fables. BOILEAU (1636-1711) : Satires. Epitres. L'Art Poe'tique. Le Lutrin, a mock-heroic poem. Dramatic Art. MOLIERE, JEAN BAPTISTE POQUELIN (1622-1673): Comedies- Lea Prtcietises Ridicules. L'Ecole des Marts, L'Ecole des Femmes. Don Juan ; or, Le Festin de Pierre. Le Misanthrope. Le Tartuffe. George Dandin. L'Avare. Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme. Les Fourberies de Scapin. Les Femmes Savantes. Le Malade Imaginaire. JEAN RACINE (1G39-1699) : Tragedies- Lea Frires Ennemis ou la TMbaide, taken from Greek history. Alexandre. Andromaque. Les Plaideurs, a comedy after Aristophanes. Britannicus, taken from Roman history. Berenice, ,, ,, no Age of Louis XIV. 1 1 1 Bajazet, taken from Turkish history. Mithridate, ,, Roman history. Iphigenie en Aulide, taken from Greek history. Pliedre, taken from Greek history. Esther, ,, Scripture history. Athalie, ,, ,, REGNARD (1656-1709) : Comedies Le Joueur. Le Distrait. Les Menechmes. Le Legataire Universel. Didactic Writings, Philosophy. LA ROCHEFOUCAULD (1613-1680) : Maximes. BOSSUET (1627-1704) : Discours sur Vhistoire universelle. LA BRUYERE (1639-1696) : Les Caracteres ou les Mceurs de ce siecle. FENELON (1651-1715): Traite de V education des filles. Dialogues des Marts. Traite de Vexistence de Dien. Epistolary Composition. MME DE SEVIGNE (1626-1696) : Lettres (addressed to Mme de Grignan, etc.). JEAN RACINE (1639-1699): Lettres (addressed to his son, etc.). MME DE MAINTJENON (1635-1719) : Lettres. Oratory. - BOSSUET (1627-1704) : Oraisons funebres. FLECHIER (1632-1710) : Oraisons funebres. BOURDALOUE (1632-1704): Sermons. Fiction. MME DE LA FAYETTE (1634-1693) : Novels La Princesse de Cleves. La Comtesse de Montpensier, etc. PERRAULT (1628-1703): Contes defies. f- FENELON (1651-1715) : Aventures de Telemaque. / LA FONTAINE. The personal influence of Louis xiv. on the literature of his century is undeniable. How- 1 12 French Literature ever pleasure-loving he was in the earlier part of his life, and fanatical in the latter part, he managed to exert on literature an influence that was at the same time liberal and conservative. The writers whom he patronised acquired gravity, moderation, rectitude, and seemliness. Yet the scope of his action must not be exaggerated. Before he could possibly affect literature in his sur- roundings, a certain number of men whose works are sometimes held to be characteristic of his influence were already producing their writings, among them, Pascal, Corneille, La Eochefoucauld, Mme de Sevigne and La Fontaine. This greatest of fabulists was born at Chateau-Thierry, a town which is now included in the department of Aisne. Almost alone among the great classical writers he took but little interest in the education given him. His father having placed him in a monastic establishment, to complete his greatly neglected studies, the young man emancipated himself altogether from all regular application. But he did a good deal of discursive reading of his own. For a while he was in danger of yielding himself to Malherbe. Fortunately he was saved from the risk of falling into bondage to any one model by the reading of Horace, of Virgil, of Ovid, and of Terence. He was lucky also in establishing connections with the older French writers, such as Villon, Marot, and Rabelais; among the Italians, Boccaccio and Ariosto were his favourites. His father tried again to bring him upon a regular path of life, by handing over to him the office which he held under the crown, and by providing him Age of Louis XIV. 113 with a wife at the age of twenty-six. But La Fontaine was not the sort of man that could lie at anchor. He turned out a bad husband, a bad father, and a spend- thrift. He sold his office, he sold his lands, he left his wife, and was happy to be rid of his son. Then he began a roving life, in the course of which he passed from the establishment of one nobleman to another. He was first in the pay of Fouquet, the famous financier, who fell into disgrace with Louis xiv., partly from dis- honesty, but still more by a display of magnificence that was offensive to the king. La Fontaine, who could, at least, be grateful for services received, en- deavoured to soften the anger of the king in the EUgie aux nymphes de Vaux, one of his most genuine and truly poetic pieces. But Fouquet was imprisoned, and La Fontaine, obliged to seek protection elsewhere, found a home after a while in the house of Mine de la Sabliere. He spent twenty years under her roof, and addressed to her the tenth book of his fables. During that period he was welcomed in the best circles, and entered into close association with the leading men of letters. Saint-Evremond, a famous French critic who spent most of his life in banishment in London, asked La Fontaine to join him. The fabulist did not go, and when Mme de la Sabliere made up her mind to enter a nunnery, he found himself again shelterless. Monsieur d'Hervart came across him in the streets of Paris at this juncture. ' Come and stay with me,' he said. ' I was on my way to you,' was the poet's reply. In 1693 he was taken ill. He fell then, for perhaps the first H 1 14 French Literature time, into a very serious mood, and looking back upon his past life with all its moral blemishes, he wrote to an ecclesiastic among his friends. ' Tis nothing to die, my dear fellow, but think that I am about to appear before God. You know what my life has been.' La Fontaine, however, was spared two years longer, and it is to his credit that he remained true to the new departure he had made. In 1684, La Fontaine was wanted by the Academy as a new member, but Louis xiv., who looked very closely after such matters, opposed the election of the fabulist and recommended his more correct friend Boileau, who was duly ap- pointed. Then the king objected no longer to the election of La Fontaine. The Fables of La Fontaine were published at intervals from 1668 to 1694. The author describes them as Une ample comedie cent actes divers Et dont la scene est 1'univers. They contain, indeed, a selection of the different types that are found in society, king, courtier, judge, priest, monk, all are gathered there, with misers, flatterers, busy-bodies, knaves, and hypocrites. La Fontaine's animals are symbolic of men, and represent humanity in its different aspects. The first four books were dedicated to the Dauphin (the eldest son of the king of France), and their general title is unassuming. La Fontaine did not profess to have invented his fables ; he had merely gathered up and put in verse the numerous stories hailing from Greek and Roman antiquity, or from the French Middle Ages, or from Oriental sources, Age of Louis XI V. 115 in which human beings are depicted under the guise of beasts. In spite of this, La Fontaine's fables bear the stamp of the greatest originality and talent. They are miniature productions in which comedy, tragedy, and every kind of poetry are compressed. La Fontaine's most personal and striking quality is charm. As he says him- self, he endeavoured to endow the wisdom stored up in the fables of mankind with freshness and gaiety, meaning by gaiety, not that which provokes merriment, but a cer- tain charm, a certain pleasantness which may be given to all subjects, even to the gravest. The second collection of his fables issued ten years after the first, when the author was perhaps at his very best, presents still more variety and higher flights of poetry than the first books. La Fontaine has also written a kind of novel bearing the mythological title of Psycfit. In spite of its title, this work is of the nature of an autobiography, in which we see with what receptivity the author looked on the world around him, including its men and women, and the beauties of nature, as well as the animals whose especial poet he was. The same man who failed so utterly in the individual relations of life, was capable of sympathy, provided that he might free himself from the obligations of duty. La Fontaine has left a record of the friendship which bound him with three of the greatest poets of the time : Moliere, Boileau, and Racine. A great deal has been made of this friendship, though, as a matter of fact, it did not last very long. Eacine fell out with Moliere by sending one of his tragedies to be acted by a rival company. Boileau, who was on terms of the n6 French Literature closest affection with Eacine, remained faithful to him, and thereby caused a coolness between himself and Moliere. As for La Fontaine, since we have said that he could be everybody's friend in general though the friend of nobody in particular, it was natural that he should follow his own courses, and remain independent of this fellowship without disowning it. The French used by La Fontaine is of a wider scope than that of his contemporaries. Being the Eabelais of his period in what concerns, at least, the tone of his writings, he gave hospitality in his fables to many dialectic and provincial phrases which were fast losing the credentials still theirs in the sixteenth century. Though La Fon- taine's fables almost always bring a moral in their train, it would be a mistake to view him as a delibe- rate moralist. His purpose, if he had any, was simply to give a foreshortened representation of human life. Reality was his object. BOILEAU is by no means a poet in the highest sense belonging to that word. He is a literary critic who wrote in verse, because he thought that this form of expression is more pithy and easier to remember than any other. In the name of reason and of good sense he undertook a mission among men of letters which is in almost every way a continuation of Malherbe's office. He attacked those writers who, when compared with his standards, and when measured by his taste, were found wanting. He set an example rigidly in keeping with his own doctrines, and published nothing that could not Age of Louis XIV. 1 1 7 have stood the inspection of another critic like himself, further, he earned the title of ' Lfyislateur du Parnasse.' This name, in the mythological affectation of its word- ing, affords in itself a sample of the dry formality with which he wrote and expected others to express them- selves. He was a Parisian by birth and sprung from. a line of lawyers. His childhood was saddened by the early death of his mother and the neglect of his orothers. After the usual course of studies in the law, ne was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-one, not without giving evidence of his literary dispositions. He began by the publication of Satires, a kind of writing which he continued to cultivate at a later stage, till he had produced twelve specimens. Some of them are on moral subjects, for instance, on man and woman, on honour; others are literary in their contents, such as the one addressed to Moliere on the subject of rhyme, and the famous seventh satire against bad writers. Others are about the merest trifles, such as one on the unpleasantnesses of life in Paris, and another on a bad dinner. Boileau's satires are not so biting as those of Juvenal. In fact, compared with these, they are placid and good-natured, with the exception, however, of the seventh and the ninth, in which he draws into light those of the profession of letters who did not come up to his standards, and whom he branded for as Ions * o a period as his authority lasted. The Epitres were written, so far as the bulk of them is concerned, at a later period than the majority of the satires. They deal with current moral or philosophic topics, the 1 1 8 French Literature delights of peace, false shame, happiness, the pleasures of country life, the praise of the true in the sense in which it is quoted along with the good and beautiful in aesthetic treatises. The seventh epistle was written to Eacine, to raise his spirits after the failure that attended the acting of his PliMre. In the twelfth, on the love of God, a vigorous onslaught is made on the teaching of the Jesuits. The Art pottique, over which Boileau spent the labour of five years, is an imitation of Horace's Epistola ad Pisones. The Latin poet treats of tragedy only, but Boileau extended the scope of his inquiry so as to bring within its compass rules for almost all poetical genres. The best lines in the Art pottique have become proverbial. When Boileau leaves out of epic poetry subjects belonging to religion or to national history, when he upholds the rule of the three unities, when he views an apparel of mythological phrases as a necessary adornment, and when he shows an utter ignorance of mediaeval art, he simply affords conclusive proof that he took his colouring from the society in which he moved while giving it his standards in exchange. Le Lutrin relates a quarrel which divided the canons of the Sainte Chapelle. The object of it was the place to be given to a lectern in the Church. The humour here, for it is a piece of classical 1 mm our, consists in a manner borrowed from Italy of dealing in the tone of serious epics with a most trifling incident. Boileau held for a long time jointly with Racine the office of historiographe du roi. Gloom was cast upon his old age by the miseries of the time and Age of Louis XIV. 1 1 9 by deafness. As a critic he knew thoroughly his own mind, delivered himself of his judgments with the utmost deliberation, with great honesty of purpose and firmness of conviction. He placed Moliere in the first rank, he upheld Racine's Ph&dre at a moment when it met with disfavour. He declared the excellence of Athalie when it was discredited by the public. He followed frankly and openly Descartes in philosophy, he set the Provinciates above every other production, whether ancient or modern. He was never weary of inveighing against exaggeration, against over-refine- ment in wit, against the excessive adornment of style and pomposity. MOLIERE was born in Paris. He was the son of an upholsterer, who sold furniture to the general public, and, by special appointment, to the king. Later, Moliere succeeded his father in that office, with the difference that he had no commercial dealings with the public, and looked after the royal furniture exclusively. His studies at the college of Clermont at Paris were most thorough. He studied philosophy under Gassendi, who was a mathematician rather than a metaphysician, and breathed into him a dislike of Descartes. At Orleans the young student took to the law. At the age of twenty-three he went off the lines laid down for him, like so many other young men whose natural literary propensities are inconsistent with a fixed professional occupation. With some money to spend, he turned an actor, became soon the head of the company which I2O French Literature he joined, and appeared successfully on provincial stages in the course of a nine years' tour. When he went on the stage he replaced his family name, which was Poquelin, by the acting name under which he earned his laurels. His theatrical activity gave itself vent in three directions at the same time. He was a stage actor, the manager of a company, and his own playwright. In Lyons he put on the stage L'Etourdi, imitated from the Italian; at Be*ziers, the Dipit amou- rcux, which still bears in some of its parts a perfectly modern aspect. In 1658, Moliere and his company settled in Paris once for all. The king took him under his protection, may be from a wish to enlist Moliere's comic force as an auxiliary, in the task he had under- taken of correcting the demeanour of his courtiers, and of the noblemen about his person. Be this as it may, Moliere set with great fearlessness about the business of casting ridicule wherever he saw a fair opening for it. In the Prdcieuses Ridicules he made a laughing- stock of the Hotel de Kambouillet. In the Ecole dcs Maris, imitated from the Adelphi of Terence, he puts a wise and kind discipline in the family circle in contrast with the evil effects of a stern and harsh one. In the Ecole des Femmes he shows that ignorance in women need not mean either innocence or virtue. In Don Jiuin, he gives a fresh setting to an old Spanish legend, more at home in romance than in comedy. In the Misanthrope he pictures the petty passions, unkindnesses, and back- bitings of mundane circles. In the Tartuffe he gives a satire of hypocrisy in such a violent strain that for four years and a half public performances had to be Age of Louis XIV. 1 2 1 suspended. In George Dandin he teaches that conjugal happiness cannot be built up on vanity. In L'Avare he shows how a miser's vice may undermine family life, and ruin all happiness. In the Bourgeois Gentilhomme he punishes the childish vanity of a tradesman who sets about aping his betters. In the Fourberies de Scapin he clothes with fresh interest the personage of the Valet de Comedie, transferred from Piautus to the modern theatre by the Italians. In Les Femmes Savantes he lashes pedantry in women. In the Malade Imaginaire he holds up to merriment the folly of malingerers, and dies, for he was on the stage filling the leading part in that last play of his, when he sickened with the illness that snatched him away a few days later from the scene of his triumphs. The Church refused to perform the burial rites over Moliere owing to his being an actor. The Academy had not admitted him, and this injustice was not repaired till 1778, when Moliere's bust was at last erected in its assembly room. The originality and superiority of Moliere is that he was able to paint the men of his time in their true likeness, while setting forth as well the unvarying features of man. The play- wright goes entirely out of sight ; human nature alone, exhibited iu its comic weakness, strikes the eye of the onlooker. He is undoubtedly a moral writer, and a few comic touches of a coarse order which mark his plays here and there should be viewed as forced upon him by theatrical necessities. EACINE was born in the same part of the country as La Fontaine, was brought up at the College of Beau- 122 French Literature vais, then in the Petites Ecoles of Port-Royal, where he learned Greek, which was better taught there than in tlie public schools of the day. His Jansenistic educators imparted to him a more liberal training than he could have received in a Jesuit College ; but he did not in every way do justice to them. His first poetic attempts are insignificant when compared with his later per- formance. He owed it to Boileau that he was able to strike without too much hesitation the line of literature that would suit him best. His first tragedy, which is imitated from Euripides, from Seneca, and from Rotrou, was acted in 1664. At that time Racine was under the influence of Corneille. In his next play, the influence of Corneille is still visible, and the fact that Racine was not quite himself may account for the weakness of those two plays. At this juncture his bent to tragedy was exposed to the attacks of his Port-Royal masters, as well as to the criticism of Corneille. Racine broke away from the former, that he might assert his inde- pendence, and by throwing off the influence of the latter he took possession of his own individuality. From 1667, and in the course of ten years, he produced seven plays, which are masterpieces of their kind. Andromaque, the first, is full of associations with Homer, Euripides, Seneca, and Virgil. Les Plaideurs, Racine's only comedy, is an after-ring of the Wasps of Aristo- phanes, and an amusing satire on judges, lawyers, and the clients of both. There is no depth in this comedy, whereby it is distinguished from the work of Moliere ; yet- the lightness of its style, combined with the comic Age of L ouis XI V. 123 touches, have made it deservedly popular. Eacine returned to tragedy with Brilannicus, in which a page of Eoman history is re- written, and a few Eoinan char- acters are recast with an admirable combination of modernity and of fidelity to the historian Tacitus, Btrtnice is usually compared with a play of the same title written by Corneille, at the request of Henrietta of England, who was anxious to see which of the two poets, once they should be at worX on the same sub- ject, would win the prize. The subject set by her was too thin to allow Corneille to display his grand manner. In Bajazet, an adventure which had shortly before taken ptace in Constantinople, supplied the tragic theme. By availing himself of an episode in recent history, Eacine was running counter to the classi- cal code. He was driven to say in self-defence that the use in tragedy of events happening at a great dis- tance was hardly less justified than the selection of subjects belonging to a remote period of the past. The same critics who were delighted when they heard his Eomans or his Greeks express the sentiments of seventeenth century French nobles discovered that the Turks in Bajazet bore no likeness to the Turks of Turkey. This latter criticism is by no means unfair, and goes to show that if the leading playwrights had not so absolutely given in to the prejudices of their critics, and had been bold enough to choose more subjects from modern history, such men as Boileau might have been brought to see the error of their 124 French Literature cramping regulations. The sources of Mithridate are Greek, like those of the following plays, Iphigtnie and Phbdre, and the subjects which he was reserving for later treatment are Greek also. A part of the public still upheld Corneille as the only legitimate tragic playwright. They endeavoured to break the long line of Kaciue's triumphs by recommending to public applause the plays put on the stage by some very inferior men. On that account, at the moment when Racine was rising to his highest in Phedre, he lost favour with theatrical audiences. Yielding also to some religious scruples about his right to bring to light again pagan sentiments, and pagan conceptions of the relations of life, he became more amenable to the reproaches with which the Gentlemen of Port-Royal were still pursuing him. He accepted their disapproval of theatrical entertainments. He married ; he was less often seen at Court, and hid his shining light in the domestic circle. However, Mme de Alaiiitenou, the grand-daughter of Agrippa d'Aubigne', who was not yet wrapped in the bigotry of her last years, but who was already engaged in bringing back to the Church of Rome the orphan daughters of Protestant noble- men, asked him to compose for her school at St Cyr some sacred plays that girls might act. Esther and Athalie were the answer to this request. The former of these plays is little more than a charming sketch ; the latter is, as a biblical tragedy, for power and sus- tained beauty, the counterpart of Phidre as a pagan play. Up to this point the favour of Louis xiv. had Age of L outs XI V. 125 never failed either Eacine or his friend Boileau. It was unfortunate for Racine that his eyes were not completely dazzled by the magnificence of the Court. He felt or saw the depths of misery hidden under the outer trappings of the kingdom, and dared to put before the king a memorandum on behalf of the poor. He had also returned latterly to the Jansenistic opinions impressed upon him in his youth, so that his last days were troubled by the unmistakeable coolness of his sovereign. If we- put on one side Racine's biblical plays, and consider the remaining ones only, he appears as the tragedian of human passions, and especially of the passion of love. He represents no longer, like Cor- neille, the opposition of the conscience and the heart, the one upholding the moral law, and the other setting up its own rights against it ; but he depicts in a way that is interesting rather than elevating the emotional weaknesses of his heroes. The psychological truth attaching to his representation of the human character is universally acknowledged, especially when he depicts women ; and however much one may repeat the hack- neyed objection that his Greeks and Romans are Frenchmen in disguise, no great store should be set by this criticism. Such faults do not depend on a writer, they are forced upon him by the people he writes for. Racine had to please a certain circle ; he had but one audience to appeal to, and Shakespeare would have been as much out of place at the French Court in the palmy days of Louis xiv. as Racine would have been in 126 French Literature England under Elizabeth. Taken up with the current ideas as to avoiding in the style nolle words of ordinary everyday speech, he used periphrases to an extent that became an excess in his imitators. EEGNARD is the only one among Moliere's successors who recalls to any great extent the qualities of the master. His venturesome youth took him from Paris to Algiers, where he was a slave, and from Algiers to Lapland, where he stood on the North Cape. Having become wealthy, he indulged in leisure, took a fancy to the theatre, and had some small pieces acted, which were well received. Of his more ambitious flights the Joueur, autobiographical to some extent, and the Lega- taire Universel are the best. In 1705 Eegnard trans- lated, with more or less fidelity, the Mtnechmes of Plautus, a comedy of errors based on the likeness of twins. LA EOCHEFOUCAULD. This writer was a scion of one of the noblest families in France. His high birth called him to a career of arms. He was a soldier before his sixteenth year. The earlier part of his life was spent in idle political intrigues. He belonged to that part of the aristocracy which resisted the gradual formation of the king's autocratic power under the reign of Louis XIII., and during the minority of Louis xiv. Having beheld the ruin of his cause in the not very serious civil war known as La Fronde, being himself ruined and unwell, and doomed to find no favour with the now absolute Age of Louis XI V. 127 king, he hid himself away for ten years and wrote his Mtinoires. When he was fifty years old he re-appeared in the world, in the drawing-rooms where some belated prfcieuses of a milder type than the set castigated by Moliere were engaged in the coining of moral maxims as a means of whiling away their time and sharpening their wit. La Eochefoucauld was prepared by the bitterness of his personal experience and by his personal predisposition to play seriously his part in what was for the others an entertainment. During ten years he was at work on his Maximes, which he sub- mitted in their various stages and shapes to the criti- cism of his exacting audience. The fundamental thought of this work is, that man, in his actions as well as in his feelings, is moved by the love of self, however self-sacrificing he may imagine himself to be. A fair clue to the tone of the whole book is given in the following maxim : ' Les vertus se perdent dans 1'inteiet comme les fleuves dans 1'ocean.' \/ BOSSUET issued from a family of the bourgeoisie in Dijon, did not become a magistrate like his forebears, but became an ecclesiastic. He received a thorough education from the Jesuits in his native town, and was sent to the Navarre College in Paris, where he was ordained a priest. Then he spent five years in Metz, engaged in serious private study, and in mission work among the Protestants. He gave in his early youth fore-glimmerings of his talent as a preacher. The specimen sermon which he delivered at a late evening 128 French Literature party in the Hotel de Rambouillet, without preparation, is often alluded to. Most of his sermons were given before the Court in the hearing of the king, but they were not published during Bossuet's lifetime. Two hundred sermons in the rough were found among his manuscripts after his death. These are comparatively early ones; later, Bossuet ceased even to write fresh notes, and simply joined, during the process of actual delivery, fresh thoughts to his stock of old material. An obvious consequence of Bossuet's office as Court preacher was that he delivered obituary addresses at the death of persons of note. His most famous Oraisons funZbres are on the Queen of England, Henrietta Maria, who was the aunt of Louis xiv., on the daughter of that Queen, known in France as Henriette d'Angleterre, and on Conde". This last is his masterpiece, deriving as it does, by most skilful artifice, its literary aspect from the military life of that general, so that it may fitly be characterised as a ' dead march,' giving to the second word of this expression its fullest literal mean- ing. From 1670 to 1683 Bossuet's energies were mainly taken up in educating the Dauphin, son of Louis xiv. He wrote several works for that young man ; he set before him his views as to what the government of a State and right kingship should be. Bossuet's ideas, rooted in the close reading of Jewish history, fell in with the well-known principle of the divine right of kings. The Discours sur I'Histoire Universelle, too, is an outcome of Bossuet's educational labours. It de- velops the idea that the hand of God is ever present in Age of Louis XIV. 129 human affairs, and shows great power in the philo- sophical handling of historic matter, a method almost new to the times, and in which imagination is tightly curbed by reason. There are some things in Montes- quieu's Considerations sur Us Causes de la Grandeur et de la Decadence des Remains which are clearly related to Bossuet's Histoire Universelle. In spite of his com- manding intellect the eminent tutor did not succeed in intellectualising the heir to the French Crown. As for an actual liberalising of the boy's mind, with a view to successful government in an age that was to be fond of liberalism, neither the king nor Bossuet entertained any such intention. The Dauphin preceded Louis xiv. into the grave. Whatever judgment we may pass on Bossuet's pedagogy, he was duly rewarded for it by the gift of a bishopric. His power ruled steadily in Church and in State. Some leading Protestants were brought back to Eome by the reading of his proselytising treatises. However, Bossuet was too good a patriot to be an unreserved papist. His name is connected with the claim for the liberties of the Church of France, and with the upholding of Cartesian philosophy against the Jesuits. He is also the author of some works of practical piety, tinged with mysticism. His Histoire des Variations des Eglises Protestantes belongs to the year 1688, and ranks high among his very numerous controversial works; for Bossuet, far from dwelling in a serene atmosphere, was hotly engaged in every dispute of importance. He began a long con- troversy with Fenelon in the matter of quietism (the I 130 French Literature name given to the doctrine that one may lose the con- sciousness of self in the possession of the love of God). The attitude taken up by Bossuet was grounded on reason and practical good sense. Unfortunately, he showed in this quarrel the intolerance which, added to his failure in education, to his adulation of the King, and to his countenancing extreme measures against the Protestant minority, proves him to have been less endowed with wisdom than with energy. LA BRUYERE was a Parisian who obtained early some lucrative offices in the provinces, which he could hold without leaving Paris. He became the teacher of the grandson of Cond in the historical and philosophical branches of knowledge. Seventeen out of the twenty letters by him which have reached us were addressed to his pupil's father, and bear upon this educational trust. La Bruyere remained attached to the house of Conde*. He moved about that household as a man of the world, and used to the full his opportunities for observation. The first indication of his aptitude for a literary caricature of manners and morals was given in a translation : Les Caracteres de TMophraste, avec les Caracteres ou les Mceurs de ce Siecle. The work was indeed in its first shape a discreet rendering of Theo- phrastus' moral sketches; but the temptation to de- velop it into a malicious portraiture of the men and women he met got the better of the writer, who, luckily for posterity, had it in him to do so in a masterly way. From the first edition to the eighth, La Bruyere's gallery Age of L ouis XI V. 131 of contemporary characters, somewhat generalised iu the names given to them, and coloured beyond recogni- tion by an excessive literary treatment, grew from 420 sketches till it contained 1120. An enormous success attended the publication of this work. Drawing-room folks in Paris and all over the provinces sought intently in it for the likenesses of their friends. ' I return to the public what the public lent me,' says La Bruyere in his preface. ' I have received from it alone the material for this work. It may now examine at leisure its own image taken from nature.' & E^NELON is among the late comers in the generation which adorned the Siecle de Louis Quatorze. Bossuet's junior by twenty-four years, he was descended from a noble family in the south-west of France. He studied at Cahors, and then at Paris at the Duplessis College and in the Saint-Sulpice Seminary. His life runs in many respects counter or parallel to that of Bossuet. Like him, he looked after the souls of the Protestant dissenters in the earlier days of his priesthood, while writing for a lady his Traitt de V Education des Miles, in which he gives vent to some liberal ideas, though on .the whole still encompassed with the prejudices of those times in the matter of the education of girls. His sermons, excellent though they were, have not been handed down to us like those of Bossuet, for he carried still further than his rival the practice of skeleton notes or no notes at all. In 1689 Fe'uelon was appointed tutor to the young Due de Bourgogne, 132 French Literature grandson of Louis xiv., and sou of Bossuet's pupil. He abandoned then the missionary work which he had been carrying on in the south-west, in a more liberal spirit than Bossuet would have approved of, but still with none of the tolerance that public opinion would have enforced in our days. Fenelon 's educational charge was not so hopeless as that of Bossuet, who had to deal with a dullard, while the faults of Fenelon's pupil were of an exactly opposite kind. The Due de Bourgogue did not require stimulating. What he demanded was the application of the curb with a firm and yet kind hand, such as would be required in the case of a too fiery steed. Fenelon applied to him a watchful and exclusively moral method, in which authority went for very little and respect for a very great deal. He wrote for him among other works his T6Umaque. The book is a string of noble moral lessons, stitched together with a somewhat monotonous but truly Hellenic grace on a canvas of romance. The ideal king shadowed forth in those pages casts a very severe side-light upon Louis xiv., and Fenelon had soon to suffer for his con- scientious boldness. He was summarily removed to an Archbishop's see in Cambrai before he had completed the education of his pupil. That was in 1695. The dispute already alluded to on the doctrine of the com- plete resignation of self to the love of God brought Fenelon into further difficulty. Some of the proposi- tions upheld by the Archbishop of Cambrai in his Explication des Maximes des Saints had been condemned by the Holy See. Bossuet started at once 011 the war- Age of Louis XIV. 133 path to check the revival under Fenelon's patronage of a heresy in mysticism. Fe'nelon disarmed the Pope by a formal surrender. Louis xiv. showed himself sterner, for the TtUmague came out of a Dutch press in a com- plete shape at a moment when Louis xiv.'s practice was more than ever different from Fenelon's present- ment of the duty of kings. It was an evil fate indeed which appeared to pursue Fe'nelon. The Due de Bour- gogne, like his father, preceded his grandfather to the grave. Fenelon, whose hope of obtaining influence in the government centred in him, baffled in his last ex- pectation, died three years later. One of his very last works had been a letter addressed to M. Dacier on the occupations of the French Academy. He bewailed therein the impoverishment of the language by the ex- cessive weeding out of words ; he sighed over the dis- repute into which had fallen Marot and Amyot; he regretted that the heart of poetry had gone out of French verse, whose formalism dried up the springs of inspiration. He recommended that freedom to create new words should be restored by common consent, provided these words were clear in their meaning and harmonious in their ring. Fenelon's Lettres Spirituelles came to light only after his death. He sets therein the example of fresh coinage in the word desappropriation, whereby he defines the state of self-surrender to God that lay at the bottom of his doctrine on quietism. Fe'nelon, along with Eacine and Andre* Che'nier, repre- sents a pure stream, so far as poetical style is concerned, of sweet Greek inspiration. He was picked out by the 134 French Literature philosophic writers of the latter part of the eighteenth century, and by some critics of so-called 'romantic' views as a harbinger of their theories. MADAME DE SE'VIGNE' was bom in Paris. She was left an orphan when she reached her sixth year, and taken in charge by her grandfather, and later by her uncle. Me'nage, who ranked with Vaugelas as a gram- matical authority on language, taught her Spanish, Italian, and Latin. She was early presented at the Court of Louis xiv.'s mother, where her wit and personal accomplishments won general favour. She was married at eighteen to a nobleman, who fell in a duel seven years later. The early years of her widow- hood were spent in educating her two children. Then she appeared once more at Court, and took up her literary headquarters at the Hotel de Eambouillet. In 1669 her daughter was married to M. de Grignan, the King's Lord-lieutenant in Provence. For the ensuing twenty-seven years letters passed generally at the rate of one a week between the mother in Paris and the daughter in Provence. Madame de Se'vignd's manner of letter-writing is a complete innovation on that of Voiture and Balzac. She does not write to show her quality of mind or her wit. She writes because she has to tell her daughter, whom she loves, something that will interest her. So the wit, coming into the bargain as it were, is of the most charming kind. Her letters are brimful of particulars on all passing events or incidents. She records impartially Age of Louis XIV. 135 great and small things, and hands them down to us in all their freshness, with the additional light which her independent judgment throws upon them. Serious when gravity is becoming, playful in trifling matters, reasonable when reason is demanded, and almost always fair in her appreciations, she is, all the same, some- times as cruel as a thoughtless woman of the world can be. Her leanings in philosophy and morals were to- wards the Jansenists and the Cartesians. Her fidelity to Fouquet in his disgrace, and her friendship with La Rochefoucauld, show that she did not always take her cue from the Court circles. MADAME DE MAINTENON ranks in point of time next to Madame de Sevigne as a letter- writer. She was born in the prison in which her father, Constant d'Aubigne, son of Agrippa d'Aubigne', had been confined on an accusation of high-felony. His daughter followed him to La Martinique, in the French West Indies, on his release. Left an orphan at the age of six, she was taken away from her aunt and put in the hands of a zealous Roman Catholic lady. The priests set about converting her to Roman Catholicism. Being a girl of spirit, she gave them a deal of trouble, and said once with the impetuosity of a true grand-daughter of Agrippa d'Aubigne* : ' You know more than I do, but here is a book ' (pointing to the Bible) ' which knows better than you. This book does not say what you say, and that is why you won't let people read it.' At eighteen she found herself the unwilling bride of the 136 French Literature sick and ailing Scarron, who was her elder by twenty- five years. Seven years later she was a widow, and, having gradually forgotten the associations of her youth, she was thought fit to be entrusted with the education of the children of the king in their tenderest years. She received as a reward the title of Marchioness. Then, after the death of the Queen Marie The'rese, it fell to her lot, wonderful to say. to become the wife of the king of France himself. Tt is only too clear that not a shred of Protestantism had survived in her. She meddled dis- astrously with State affairs. The Edict of Nantes, granted by Henry iv. in favour of the Protestants, was not repealed without her full consent. With formalism in literature, there coincides with her queenly position at Court formalism in morals, consequent upon the vogue of formalism in manners. She founded in 1684, at the village of Saint- Cyr, her famous school for young girls of noble birth. But for the proselytising char- acter of the education given there, the Saint-Cyr school could be described, without reservation, as an institution doing the greatest credit to its founder. The school was for many years her favourite occupation, object of affection, and retreat from the worries of Court life. Her letters are more substantial and less sprightly than Madame de Sevigne^s. She writes in a tone of responsibility, and shows a concern about moral points that betokens a serious and reasonable disposition. MADAME DE LA FAYETTE counted among her most faithful friends Madame de Se'vigne, the Due de La Age of Louis XI V. 137 Rochefoucauld, author of the Maximes, and the sister of Charles n., Henrietta, known under the title of Madame, Duchesse d'Orle'ans. She did not sign her own writings, but there is no doubt that the famous short novel La Princesse de Cloves is her work. It marks a new departure in novel- writing, a change from the complica- tion and affectation of Mademoiselle de Scude'ry's style, and an approach to the genuine simplicity, the un- varnished directness of expression, wanted to raise novels to the level of the best literature of that time. CHAPTER VII. A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY WRITERS. As we have already done to some extent in the pre- ceding chapters, we include in this Table a certain number of writers whose works rank in the history of the general development of French literature, but who are not sufficiently representative to receive a distinct notice of their own in a review of such a limited compass as this. Miscellaneous Verse. JEAN-BAPTISTE ROUSSEAU (1670-1741): Odes, cantates, tpitres, dpigrammes. Louis RACINE (1692-1763), son of Jean Racine: La Religion, a didactic poem ; odes, epitres. VOLTAIRE (1694-1778) : La Henriade, a formal epic. Odes, epUres, satires, epigrammes, GRESSET (1709-1777) : Vert-Vert, a witty pleasantry in verse. GILBERT (1751-1780) : Adieux dupoete d la vie. ANDRIEUX (1759-1833) : Conies, in verse (Le Meunier de Sans Souci). ANDRE CHENIER (1762-1794) : Lyrical poems. JOSEPH CHENIER (1764-1811) : Odes, hymnes, epttres, satires. 138 Eighteenth Century Writers 139 Dramatic Art. PIRON (1689-1773) : La Metromanie, a comedy. VOLTAIRE (1694-1778) : Tragedies - Oedipe ; Brutus ; Zaire ; Mahomet ; Merope ; Semiramis ; Oreste ; Rome sauvee ; Tancrede. Comedies Les Originaux ; Nanine. CRESSET (1709-1777) : Le Mediant, a comedy. DIDEROT (1713-1784): Dramas Le Mis Naturel ; Le Pere de famille. SEDAINE (1719-1797): Comedies Le Philosophe sans le savoir ; La Gageure imprevue. BEAUMARCHAIS (1732-1799): Comedies Le Barrier de Seville; Le Mariage de Figaro. Ducis (1733-1816) : Tragedies after Shakespeare (Hamlet, Romeo et Juliette, le Roi Lear, Macbeth, Othello). History, Memoirs. ROLLIN (1661-1741) : Histoire ancienne ; Histoire romaine. SAINT-SIMON, Due DE (1675-1755) : Memoires. MADEMOISELLE DELAUNAY (1693-1750) : Memoires. VOLTAIRE (1694-1778): Vie de Charles XII., Roi de Suede; Siecle de Louis XIV. ; Histoire de la Russie sous Pierre 7 r . J.-J. ROUSSEAU (1712-1778) : Confessions. BEAUMARCHAIS (1732-1799): Mdmoires. Fiction. LE SAGE (1668-1747) : Le Liable Boiteux, a satirical novel ; Histoire de Gil Bias de Santillane. MARIVAUX (1688-1763) : Marianne, a novel. VOLTAIRE (1694-1778) : Novels ( Zadig, Jeannot et Collin, etc.) PREVOST (1697-1763) : Manon Lescaut, a novel. J.-J. ROUSSEAU (171&-1778) La Nouvelle Helolse, a novel. 140 French Literature MARMONTEL (1723-1799) : Belisaire; Contes moraux. BERNARDIN DE ST. -PIERRE (1737-1814): Paul et Virginic ; La Chaumiere indienne. Oratory. MASSILLON (1663-1742) : Sermons (Petit Careme) ; Oraisons funebres. MIRABEAU (1749-1791) : Discours (in the Constituent Assembly). Politics, Philosophy, Science. MONTESQUIEU (1689-1755) : Lettres persanes, a satirical work; Con- side'rations sur les causes de la grandeur des Remains et de lew decadence ; Esprit des lois. VOLTAIRE (1694-1778) : Essai sur leg moeurs et Vesprit des nations ; Dictionnaire Philosophique. BUFFON (1707-1788) : Epoques de la nature; Histoire naturelle. J.-J. ROUSSEAU (1712-1778) : Du Control social ; Emile. VAUVENARGUES (1715-1747) : Maximes. DIDEROT (1713-1784) : Pensdes phifasophiques ; Lettre sur les aveugles. Les Philosophes: DIDEROT and D'ALEMBERT (1717-1783), chief editors of the Encyclopedia ; with the assistance of Voltaire, Buffon, Montesquieu, Condillac, Duclos, Turgot, Helvetius, d'Holbach, Necker, Marmontel, Raynal, Grimm, etc. U Encyclopedic. Due DE SAINT-SIMON. This writer of voluminous memoirs, whose life extended far into the eighteenth century, may be considered as a belated representative of Louis xiv. 's age, for his interest and his writings are totally disconnected from the subjects in debate in the bulk of the eighteenth century literature. His father had been made a Duke and a Peer of the Realm by Louis xm., and filled his son with a sense of the great honour due to their common dignity. Saint-Simon dis- tinguished himself in several campaigns, but having been neglected in the distribution of military honours in 1702, Eighteenth Century Writers 141 he was so wounded in his vanity that he resigned his commission. This instance of pride was the beginning of his disgrace with Louis xiv., who, while treating him with every consideration, did not entrust him with any office either at Court or in public affairs. Saint-Simon's pet grievance was, that the illegitimate sons of Louis xrv. had come to rank as Princes of the blood, and took, therefore, precedence of Dukes. His joy was boundless when, after the death of Louis xiv., an Edict of the Parlemcnt de Paris cancelled their royal status. During the minority of Louis xiv.'s successor, a six-year-old child, he was a member of the Eegent's Council, but his stubbornness in upholding the rights of the aristocracy to the Government of the State met with such suc- cessful opposition that he thought fit to leave for a while the scene of his struggles, and accepted the office of ambassador at the Court of Madrid. So far as his political opinions are concerned, he might well have been one of the French nobles, whose curbing required the strong hand of Kichelieu, or one of that com- paratively liberal aristocracy to which, if Fenelon's ideas had ever been carried out, the principal place would have been granted in the Government of France. One of his sayings is, ' Tout pour le peuple, mais rien par le peuple.' Saint-Simon has his place marked in that limited number of French noblemen who, from the Renaissance to the brink of the Revolution, showed themselves at once exclusive in temperament and liberal in the disposition of their minds, and without whose complicity the first steps towards the Revolution 142 French Literature could not have been taken. After the death of the Regent in 1723, Saint-Simon withdrew from the Court, and spent the last thirty-two years of his life in putting together his Memoirs. These became the property of the State at his death, and the general public did not obtain possession of them till 1856. The Memoirs were personal at the outset ; then they became a history of the Court of France, and of the times. The style is that of a man who is in a great hurry to put into words what his passion dictates, so that they are wanting in method, in orderliness, and in every cool study of the facts. But, for dash of style, for flashes of light springing up suddenly as from a dark cloud of phraseology, Saint- Simon is inimitable. He is sometimes compared with the Cardinal de Retz, who wrote, from a standpoint which would, no doubt, have been that of Saint-Simon himself, an account of the civil war, La Fronde, waged by the nobles against Mazarin. MARIVAUX belonged to Normandy. He wrote some comedies of a peculiar kind, and, in absence of a fit name in the language that could describe his manner, the word Marivaudage was coined in his honour. It was after him applied to describe any style in comedy or novel-writing in which the analysis of sentiment in its most subtle and shadowy manifestations is the object of the writer. Nearer to our days Alfred de Musset, in his Proverbes, revealed himself in this art as a master superior to Marivaux, for he was a man of deeper perception, and combined with the play of wit Eighteenth Centiiry Writers 143 a simpler and more psychological art. Marivaux's novel, Marianne, is still better known than his comedies. MLLE DELAUNAY has left some interesting Memoires about herself. She never knew her father, who fled to England for political reasons. She was brought up in a convent at Kouen, and extended her studies privately beyond the compass filled by the instructions she re- ceived from the nuns. She entered the household of the Duchesse du Maine as chamber-maid, and won much attention by her wit and good-sense. She was shut up for two years in the famous Paris prison, La Bastille, under the accusation of being implicated in a political con- spiracy. After refusing several suitors, she accepted as a husband the Baron de Staal, a Swiss officer. That is why she is known to literature also under the name of Madame de Staal-Delaunay, which causes her to be sometimes confused with the famous Madame de Stael- Holstein, who lived at a later period. Her Memoirs deal especially with the last years of the reign of Louis xiv., and she is at her best when she relates the episodes of her private life, and shows in an ironical light the social comedies acted around her. The portrait she draws of the governor of La Bastille, who died of love for her, shows her talent at its best. LE SAGE, the novelist and playwright, born near the town of Vannes, and sometimes mistaken for a Gene- vese writer of the same name, was educated by the Jesuits. An orphan in early years, he suffered greatly 144 French Literature in his worldly estate through the dishonesty of his guardian. For many years he kept poverty at bay by hard work ; and when he was in mature years, having in the interval stored his mind with a thorough know- ledge of the world, he used his acquaintance with Spanish literature to gain an access to a theatrical career. His first original composition was Crispin rival de son tnaitre. The Diable boiteux appeared in the same year and met with a stupendous reception. This is the first book of 'gibes, flouts, and sneers,' aimed at the excesses, abuses and misrule of the time ; a kind of political satire which the popular favour made it impossible for the State to suppress, and which, in the hands of Beaumarchais, was to become a formidable instrument. Le Sage's next work in the same vein is Turcaret, a comedy in which there does not appear a single honest man, and in which the scandals of farming out taxes to gatherers are shown up in the fiercest light, with but a thin veil thrown over the identity of the personages alluded to. Le Sage was stopped in his theatrical career by falling out with the actors of the leading theatres. He turned his back upon them to become again a novelist. His masterpiece in this capacity is L'Histoire de Gil Bias de Santillane. A satire on human nature, and more particularly on French ways and manners, is the purpose of this book. The scene of it is laid in Spain, a favourite device with the Frenchmen who wished to read their countrymen a moral lesson. The hero starting from most humble beginnings is made to Eighteenth Century Writers 145 rise through many adventures from office to office and from place to place, till he is allowed to end his life in comfortable retirement. Gil Bias stands in the literary lineage from which Beaumarchais' Figaro is descended. PI?E"VOST. This Abbe", who rejoiced in a passionate and romantic imagination, stands in contrast to Le Sage, the calm and almost judicial observer of human faults. FreVost was alternately a soldier and a nionk. From the monastery he fled to Holland, thence to London, where he made a living by writing. Seven years later we find him again in holy orders, and chaplain to the Prince de Conti. One day he fainted in the forest of Chantilly. He was taken for dead, and the surgeons set about cutting up his body. He awoke under the knife, only in time to die from the wound he had received. He translated into French the novels of Richardson, a fact of some literary importance when taken in connection with the vogue which Eichardsou enjoyed in France. His best known production is the short novel olManon Lescawt, a love story of an irregular kind, in which Eichardson's influence accounts for cer- tain features. La Princcsse de Cleves, Marianne, and Manon Lcscaiti are three important landmarks in the history of the modern novel before Rousseau. VAUVENAEGUES. This sympathetic moralist, born at Aix in Provence, died at the early age of thirty-two. He returned broken in health from his campaigns in K 146 French Literature Germany, and wished to exchange arms for diplomacy. Unluckily he was taken ill with smallpox, and his hopes of an official life vanished. There appeared one year before his death his Introduction & la connaissance de I'esprit humain suivie de Reflexions et de Maxiwvis. This is a storehouse of personal observations and of detached thoughts on the faculties of the mind, on passions, virtues, and vices. A collection of over six hundred maxims follows. He appears to have taken up moral subjects in the consciousness that La Koche- foucauld had written before him, and that there was room, in the same field of thought, for some oppositional writing. ' Why should our virtues be only vices in disguise ? ' he exclaims ; ' Is virtue less profitable be- cause one enjoys practising it ? Is it on that account of less value to the world, or less different from vice which is the ruin of the human kind ? Does goodness change its nature and cease to be good from the moment I delight in it ? ' Vauvenargues is most un- like Voltaire. These two men were none the less fast friends, and when the younger one was cut off in his prime, before giving the full measure of his noble seriousness, Voltaire was loud in the praise of the moralist whom he loved, admired, and respected. Vauvenargues was not the object of much notice during his lifetime. His contemporaries, with minds steeped in materialism and scepticism, kept their backs turned upon this stoic and idealistic writer, who was wanting in the rhetorical power that might have called their attention to him. Eighteenth Century Writers 147 GILBERT is a poet whom the critics of this century have fondly drawn to themselves from among the eighteenth century poets as the only example of a true lyrical inspiration. There is no doubt that the vicissitudes of his existence had a great deal to do with the colour of his work. Having failed in a poetical competition in 1772, a pre-disposition to bitter- ness became more intense, and sought an outlet in poems that were too subjective to meet with success in an impersonal age. He sided against the so-called philosophic movement, and was at length luck)'- enough to enter the promised land of pension. He fell from a horse at the age of twenty-nine, and died from the shock he received. The sympathy aroused by the true ring of his personal pathos has been as a forcing-house for tales of persecution, abandonment, and misery that have gathered about the facts he has stated ; and they have been crystallised once for all in Alfred de Vigny's Stello. Gilbert's Ode imitee de plusieurs psaumes, com- posed on his death-bed, is quoted in every collection of French poetical masterpieces, and its few lines are, indeed, worth more than all the so-called lyrical verses that were written from the middle of the seventeenth century to the last years of the eighteenth. BUFFON was the son of a councillor at the Parlement de Dijon in Burgundy. His literary and mathematical studies were sound, and he travelled in France and Italy with the young Duke of Kingston. He began to be known in scientific circles by some translations from 148 French Literature Newton and by papers on scientific points. Having been made a Member of the Academy of Sciences and Director of the King's Garden, he was able to pursue his favourite study, natural history, and to publish in favourable circumstances the first three volumes of his Histoire Naturelle. This work, on which he was to spend forty years of his life, and to employ the help of many assistants, was never completed. Buffon is one of those men of science who are entitled by right to a place in literature. His work opens with a general description of the earth, followed by an account of minerals, of mammals, of birds, and of fishes. In 1776 Buffon published his JZpoques de la Nature, in which a theory is given of the changes undergone by the earth in the course of the past centuries. By this book, Buffon may be considered to be the forerunner of Cuvier, and to have suggested the modern sciences of palaeontology and geology. In fact, he is the first distinguished member of a class of scientific investi- gators, more numerous in France than anywhere else, men who combine with first-rate scientific attainments an ability to put the result of their research before the general public in language that it can understand and admire. Buffon's famous Discours sur le Style has nothing whatever to do with natural science unless it be to prove that, in the opinion of the writer himself, scientific attainments are insufficient in themselves to secure fame for their possessor. ' Ideas,' he says, ' are the property of all, but style the property of but a few, and those few hold the birthright to reputation. The Eighteenth Century Writers 149 form given to one's thoughts is alone individual, that is what belongs to the man.' This opinion is generally expressed in the aphorism, 'Le style c'est rhomme,' though Buffon did not quite put it in this shape. The great change that has now taken place in the relation of science to literature, to the advantage of the former, makes it no longer so necessary as in Buffon's time that a student of science in order to become popular should be literary. DIDEEOT was a very discursive and prolific writer. He opens up that period of French literature which immediately preceded the Eevolution, and in which new political and philosophical ideas were scattered abroad with more profusion than ever. He was acquainted with the wretchedness of a life of adventure, and only escaped from dire poverty by becoming a hanger-on to those in high places who cared to encourage his views or reward his remarkable talent. He gave evi- dence in his very first works of the peculiarity of his mind. His pen produced the most cynical novels, while writing treatises on merit and virtue in the Plutarchian manner. He combined the moral unscrupulousness which had grown forth from deep-seated social dis- orders with the emotional sensibility which then forced itself upon the minds of men by a natural re- action. Diderot was an agitator in every department of philosophic thought, and in that of literary criticism as well. His Penstes philosophiques were condemned to be burned by the Parliament of Paris. He was shut up 150 French Literature in the Vincennes prison for his Lettre sur les aveuglcs. Then began his long connection with the Encyclopedic, for which he wrote articles on philosophy, on aesthetics, and on the technical arts. The publication of this work was twice interrupted by the Government, and the second time Catherine of Eussia offered Diderot pro- tection at her Court. On hearing later that he was about to sell his library under the pressure of poverty, she bought it from him and graciously appointed him its keeper at a fixed salary. Diderot endeavoured to rescue French tragedy from the dry formalism into which it had fallen, but his plays, which he called drames to distinguish them from the traditional classical models, are the work of a critic rather than that of a man of genius. In spite of his well-meant efforts to hold the mirror up to nature, they are clearly the work of a philosophic writer who cannot resist the tempta- tion of winning through them a hearing for his ideas. Diderot was not a direct student of nature, but he had a rare gift of reflection on the results of scientific research, and, in his fragmentary attempts at building up a philosophy of natural science, he comes very near the modern ideas on evolution and transformism. His salons, an account of the picture exhibitions held in Paris, laid the basis for a new criticism of the pictorial art. In short, Diderot has contributed original views in most branches that appertain to the intellectual activity of man, and his power of investing old subjects with fresh interest bore fruit. Eighteenth Century Writers 151 L'ENCYCLOPEDIE, as suggested by its name, is a vast collection of articles on sciences, arts, and trades, for the purpose of handing down to ensuing generations all the discoveries of the past. The plan is due to Diderot, who had translated from English Chambers' Encyclopaedia, then in its first shape. D'Alembert was entrusted with the preface to the new venture. It was started in 1746, and brought to a conclusion in 1777, after two breaks of uneven length. Writers of note were invited to contribute to it, but as the book was to bear a distinct trade mark, that of the philo- sophcs, and was intended in the first place to scatter abroad their own ideas, the assistance offered by such bodies as the Jesuits and the group of Jansenistic thinkers was declined. The whole work extends to thirty-five volumes in folio. It represents explicitly the tendency of the times a tendency which the State endeavoured in vain to curb by the material means of restraint at its disposal, and which was carried every- where by intellectual, and, if we may say so, by spiritual agencies of the same nature as those to which socialism owes its spread nowadays. The Encyclo- pedists were unable for fear of imprisonment to sub- stitute in this book their individual doctrines for the official ones placed under the guardianship of the State. But they managed to introduce their own divergent views alongside the orthodox ones at such length and with such force that their purpose was fully attained. Their philosophy is greatly derived from that of Locke ; and public opinion, then divorced from the public 152 French Literature powers, being with them, they could not be smothered. They encouraged no novelty in matters of literary taste. BERNARDIN DE ST.-PIERRE. This author, a poet who wrote in prose, might be called the small Roiisseau. The emotional sensibility alluded to in speaking of Diderot had full possession of this writer, whose opinions are, however, totally different from those of the philosophies, being partly derived from Rousseau and not out of touch with Buffon. He was born at Le Havre, studied at Caen and at Rouen, entered the Government's engineering college, and joined the corps of engineers. He was doing in that capacity military service in Germany when he was embroiled with his chiefs by his susceptibility. He was dismissed from, their employment. This threw him upon the world in search of an occupation. Full of Utopian ideas, he went to Russia and planned a model colony on the shores of the Caspian Sea. Baffled in the realisation of this dream, he is found next in Poland, then in Saxony, then again in France, where he set about writing an account of the countries he had visited. In 1768 he lands in lie de France (now an English colony, Mauri- tius), having in his pocket a commission as captain of engineers. His stay in this island was a turning-point in his career, for the faults in character which unfitted him for practical life were of a kind that may be , turned to account in a literary life. On his return lie published his Voyage & Vile de France in the shape of letters written to a friend, and where he revealed him- Eighteenth Century Writers 153 self as a gifted landscape painter with a dash of the imperishable social reformer that was in him. By that time he had formed his famous friendship with J.-J. Eousseau, with whom he held many points in common, being like him a passionate admirer of nature, leading like him a wandering and unsettled life, being unfit like him to meet successfully the struggle for existence, being like him full of whims, and burdened like him with a morbid distrust of his fellow-creatures. Les Etudes de la Nature brought Bernardin a step further forward in the temple of fame. In direct opposition to Voltaire and Diderot, Bernardin set about the work of bringing his contemporaries back to God and nature. Whether they answered his call or not, the fact remains that his studies of nature met with universal admiration. In the fourth volume was contained the charming story of Paul et Virginie, which had soon to be printed separately, and has been ever since a favourite piece of reading among young people. The Chaumibre indienne was not written with the same guilelessness as Paul et Virginie. It relates the journey to India of an English scholar sent by the Eoyal Society of London to seek an answer to a whole budget of questions. The scholar goes to the pagoda in Benares to question the chief of the Brahmins. There is a decided irony in all that part of the book, but Bernardin returns to his romantic vein in the description of the hut and family life of the Pariah. Bernardin filled in the Jardin du roi the place which had been Buffon's at an earlier date. BEAUMARCHAIS was the son of a watchmaker, and for 154 French Literature some time carried on that trade himself. He studied music in his spare hours, and by his skill in this pursuit he succeeded in becoming the manager of the enter- tainments given by the daughters of Louis xv. Being by another side of his nature fitted for financial jobbing, he dabbled in various affairs, and soon became rich enough to buy letters patent of nobility. In 1764 he went to Madrid to rescue his sister from the hands of a Spanish adventurer, into whose power she had unwarily fallen. This episode shows that he took seriously his brotherly duties, and is related in the most dramatic part of his Memoirs. This incident of real life was worked up into a play by Goethe. A result of Beaumarchais' dealings with bankers was litigation. Beaumarchais, who was admirably able to gauge the morality of the magistrates of his time, sought to reach Councillor Goezman by presenting his wife with several thousand francs, a gold watch, and fifteen sovereigns. The matter becoming further complicated, Beaumarchais thought he had a fine opportunity of showing up all the bribery and corruption connected with the successive stages of his lawsuit. He brought out then his Mdmoires, in which the Parliament of Paris, known as the Parlement Maupeou (from the name of the Chancellor for the time), is torn to pieces with a ruthless hand. Once engaged upon this work of vindi- cation, in which public opinion was ready to side with him, though he hardly deserved more respect himself than his victims, Beaumarchais proceeded to write his two famous comedies: the Earlier de Seville and the Eighteenth Century Writers 155 Mariage de Figaro. Like Le Sage, Beaumarchais applied to Spain for suitable representations of his own country- men. Figaro is emblematic of the lower French middle class, with its turn for social adventure, its careless and cheerful wit, its skill and resource, the perseverance it hides under frivolous appearances, and its aptness to succeed in the struggle for existence. Figaro was all things before being a barber, a veterinary surgeon in a stud, a professional inventor of puzzles and riddles, of madrigals and of unsuccessful plays. Then, over- whelmed with debts and weary of a fruitless penman- ship, he makes lather, that he may make fun of everything, for fear of being compelled to weep. He is a, master-hand at intrigue. The curiosity of the public was whetted to the highest degree by the boldness of these plays. When the author sought leave to put them on the stage, noblemen, though belonging to a class that was most bitterly shown up by Beaumarchais, supported his application. The Barbier was acted in Paris, and had more than a hundred nights' run. "When the Eevolution, the floodgates of which he had con- tributed to open, was in full flow, his old connection with the Court, and with the governing classes, brought him into danger. He sought refuge in London, and in Hamburg, and came back to die in Paris when the turmoil had quieted down. MIRABEAU is the first political orator properly so called that we meet in the history of French literature. There had been some eloquence of that kind in the 156 French Literature days of the Kenaissance and of the Eeformation, but it had completely subsided during the period of absolute kingship. Not so much because the discussion of political questions was suppressed, but rather because the suppression coincided with the general tendency in French society to separate literature and politics, and to take an interest in the former only. In the eighteenth century we see gradually a return to a healthier state of affairs, notwithstanding the efforts of the State to make the willing habit of the seventeenth century peremptory law in the eighteenth. Till the old state-craft was defeated at the outbreak of the Revolution, political eloquence flowed in indirect channels towards its goal But when the representa- tive assemblies of the three orders in the State, after being for a long period in abeyance, were again called together to discuss public matters, orators took posses- sion of the field, and wielded practically the greatest power in France, till the office of the public executioner took precedence of that of the public speaker. Mira- beau was a native of Nemours. He gave his father a great deal of trouble, though it is only fair to add that his father's behaviour towards him was most unwise. Most violent means were used to curb the unruly dis- position of the young man. Military discipline having failed to reach the desired end, Mirabeau was shut up for a while in the fortress of the Island of Re*. He married in 1772, fell deeply into debt, was again arbitrarily arrested, and shut up in three different places in succession. He wrote in the Vincennes Eighteenth Century Writers 157 prison a memoir on the notorious Lettres de cachet (warrants to arrest), which could be obtained on appli- cation to the king without recourse to the ordinary machinery of the law, and which were often taken advantage of to curtail individual liberty. In 1784 we find Mirabeau in a banking establishment. At that time he began a controversy with Beaumarchais, who upheld against him the rights of a certain Water Com- pany. As the opportunities of doing actual political work increased, Mirabeau came gradually to the front, and was elected by the Third Estate as one of its representatives in the States General. His influence in the assemblies of the Eevolution was paramount in matters political and economic till 1788 ; but Mirabeau was only a liberal, though a fiery one, and abandon- ment of the monarchical principle was inconsistent with his views. It is considered that he might have checked the downward course from liberalism to anarchy had not his death taken place in the midst of a most critical period. His eloquence was irresistible, and, after the lapse of more than a hundred years, the fire, impetuosity, and earnestness characterising his speeches are as striking as ever. ANDE^ CH^NIER and his brother Joseph Che'nier I left."* were born at Constantinople. Their father was French ,- Consul there, and their mother a Greek. Andre is the ^ more famous of the two. After six months of military life he left this career in disgust. He resumed in Paris the course of his interrupted studies, and under- 158 French Literature took next a journey in Switzerland and Italy. His first writings fall in those years. A little later, being under the necessity of seeking a livelihood, he occupied a post in the French Embassy in London. Not- withstanding his great admiration for Milton and the English Constitution he felt out of his element in England. Like Mirabeau, his convictions were liberal. He beheld with great enthusiasm the first and heroic stage of the Eevolution ; but when the policy of whole- sale execution was set agoing, Che'nier spoke in very different tones in the articles which he was then con- tributing to the Paris press. He was in hiding in the neighbourhood of Paris when some steps taken in- cautiously by his father, in the matter of his arrest, resulted in his being brought to trial. He was cut off in his prime by the knife of the guillotine. Che'uier was a disciple of the Greeks, and was so much out of touch with the classical tradition inherited from the seventeenth century that he has been honoured by many as the forerunner of the romantic poets. His pastoral and idyllic poems are imitated from Theo- critus. His subjects are those of the older and simpler Greek poets. He speaks of the healthy enjoyment of life, of the love of country, of the reverence due to old age, of a mother's love, of the pity owed to the poor, and of the miseries of one's destiny, in tones of the truest and least rhetorical emotion. His inspiration, vigorous and sweet at the same time, is that of a lover of the beautiful who is in warm sympathy with his fellow-creatures. Had he lived he might have had a Eighteenth Century Writers 159 great influence on the course of French poetry. In point of fact, however, in addition to his being cut off in his prime, his works did not come to the light till 1820, when Madame de Stae'l and Chateaubriand were already directing into channels of their own the move- ment of reform. MONTESQUIEU. The Eighteenth Century writers whom we have dealt with hitherto all had a great influence on the drift of their times; but their influ- ence on posterity sinks to insignificance when compared with that of the three giants of the century : Montes- quieu, Voltaire, and Jean-Jacques Eousseau. Of these three, Montesquieu was the most respected as a man, and the most weighty as a philosopher on matters politic and social, though appealing on that account to a comparatively limited circle. Voltaire was the most popular and the least grave, and Eousseau the most passionately loved and the most blindly followed to the danger of State and society. Montesquieu was a native of the Gironde and Garonne Valley, a part of France from which we have seen spring several of the most powerful leaders in intellectual concerns. Like Montaigne, he was educated in the law and connected with the Bordeaux Parliament. At the age of thirty-two he took a place among those writers for whom it was unsafe to publish their works in France. Ever since the middle of the sixteenth century some of the more independent thinkers had by necessity fallen into the habit of seeking refuge abroad, either permanently like 160 French Literature Saint-Evremond for instance, or for suitable lengths of time like Descartes and Voltaire. French colonies, in which men of letters of all descriptions were mixed up with the exiled Protestants, had gradually grown in Holland, in England, in Geneva, and in Prussia, form- ing thus with the intellectual movements in their foreign homes links of the greatest value for the liberal- ising of France, and putting their letterpress at the disposal of the luckier thinkers who could remain in the mother-country. Montesquieu's Leltres persanes were published in Amsterdam in 1721. They are a criticism of the manners and mental habits of the French people. They are written with a light, ironic touch, in which Montesquieu was not to persevere. From early manhood he was engaged in the severe study of history and political institutions. Like Mon- taigne again, he resigned his legal charge to travel abroad, following in this the majority of French writers, whom it is prejudice to describe as forming a close intellectual corporation, full to excess of ideas of native growth, and ignorant of foreign countries. Montesquieu stayed in Vienna, in Hungary, in Venice where he met Lord Chesterfield, who had an impor- tant share in the shaping of his views in Florence, Rome, Naples, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and last, but not least, in England. He dwelt in and about London for two years, and nothing that was laid open to him iii this novel field of observation was lost on him. In 1731 he again like Montaigne gave himself up to a spell of quiet study in his country residence, Eighteenth Century Writers 161 the fruit of which was offered to the public three years later in the Considerations sur les causes de la grandeur des JRomains et de leur decadence, a work taking up the higher historical method at the point where Machiavelli and Bossuet had left it, and carrying it on much further in the direction of what is now called sociology. The same philosophic inquiry into the reciprocal bearing of historical facts holds good in the Esprit des lois, printed at Geneva in 1748, after a labour of twenty-four years. In eighteen months twenty editions were absorbed by the public, as well as translations in every European language, notwithstanding that nothing could be less like a novel than this work, in which an attempt is made, amidst the greatest difficulties, to fix the laws of political development. It is a pity that beside the scholarly Montesquieu there did not arise in France a man with the gift of rhetorical expression who could have caught the ear of the people and obtained for these sound doctrines the hearing granted a little later to the violent theories of Eousseau. A VOLTAIKE presents in an accumulation the qualities that go to make the typical French writer. He has the gifts of perfect lucidity, of mischievousness, of biting satire and playful irony, of sterling good sense, of vivacity combined with coolness and self-confidence. He knows how to say in a tasteful and artistic way whatever he wishes to say, and he does it with ease and without any visible effort. It is an open question whether he had much heart. At any rate, his reason ever L 1 62 French Literature kept watch, and no emotional impulse ever neutralised his vanity. When his personal honour, or what he mistook for his honour, was not at stake, he showed himself generous and high-minded. He was charit- able and unwearying in the defence of a good cause when his personal glory along with the furtherance of such abstract principles as toleration and enlighten- ment could thereby be served. Versatile Voltaire, master in no field but second best in all, at once the herald and the follower of public opinion, was the most popular figure of his times, and engaged in many great controversies in which the last word has not been spoken even at the present day. He was born at Paris, and received his education from the Jesuits in the College Louis le Grand. One of his tutors, struck by his independence, declared to him that he would become a standard-bearer among the infidels. His first steps in practical life ended in misfortune. He was dis- missed from the suite of the French Ambassador at the Hague; he was exiled under suspicion of having written some satirical lines against the Regent of France ; he was imprisoned in the Bastille twice, the second time in the following wise. In 1722 he came into posses- sion of independent means, and was able from that moment to carry out his wish of becoming exclusively a man of letters. He became then a favourite in the highest circles of society. Unfortunately he had a quarrel with the Due de Rohan, 1 who instructed one 1 Not to be confused with the famous Protestant leader of that name in the Thirty Years' War. Eighteenth Century Writers 163 of his servants to give him a sound cudgelling. Voltaire then challenged Eohan to a duel, but the nobleman de- clined to give satisfaction to the commoner and pre- ferred to demand his Imprisonment. After spending a few weeks in captivity, Voltaire went to England. During his stay of three years in that country, he made himself acquainted with the ideas of the English Deists. He studied Newton, Locke, Shakespeare, and Pope. His contributions to literature before and during this stay in England were numerous in the fields of tragedy, comedy, social satire, literary criticism, and epic verse. But by far his most important production up to this stage is the Lettres sur Its Anglais or Lettres philosophises. The Parliament of Paris exercised over this work its censorial rights, and condemned it as hostile to religion ; but this measure was unavailing to stop the inroad of English ideas into France. From 1734 to 1749 Voltaire took up his residence in the house of Madame du Chatelet. He finished there his tragedy Alzire, in which he placed on the stage an episode of the conquest of Peru by the Spaniards. He wrote also then the Mort de Ctsar, which is to some extent derived from the Julius Caesar of Shakespeare. By going to foreign parts for his tragic themes, by borrow- ing from Shakespeare, whom he considered on the whole to be inferior to the French playwrights, and by turning to the national history of France for dramatic subjects, Voltaire gave evidence of the straits to which the French stage had come, and shows how much he him- self felt that the inherited forms of dramatic art had 164 French Literature worn themselves threadbare. To the same period of his life belong his EUments de la philosophic de Newton and his Discours sur I'homme. He was then enjoying the favour of the Court, and even was appointed to the office of Historiographe du roi, which had so often before him devolved upon fashionable men of letters. His election to the Academy was long delayed by the hostility of the clergy. It took place at last in 1746. Voltaire numbered among his numerous correspondents King Frederick the Great of Prussia, whose purpose it was to collect the largest possible number of philo- sophic-minded gentlemen to while away the leisures of peace with them in literary occupations, and to gain for his capital the reputation of being a centre of learning. The turn of his mind disposed him to give a preference to French philosophers of Voltaire's type. Unfortu- nately for him Frenchmen of that class, alternately bullied and petted, but always feared by their own Government, had developed the same defects as spoiled children do in a badly managed home. They were vain, impertinent, and quarrelsome. They expected to be fawned upon by their patrons, and to see fair play allowed to their petty resentments. The first relations between Voltaire and Frederick were like a honeymoon. Voltaire yielded to the king's- wish that he should reside at his court. He taught him the art of writing French verses, he corrected his essays- for him, and received in exchange for his services- plenty of money. Unfortunately the king wished to be master, and to keep in order in his own way the Eighteenth Century Writers 165 troublesome set imported by him. The President of the Academy of Sciences in Berlin was a Frenchman, with whom Voltaire was soon engaged in a domestic quarrel, and against whom he wrote a pamphlet of a satirical description. Frederick, taking the law in his own hands, had this piece of vituperation burned by the hand of the executioner. There ensued a decided coolness, and then hostility between him and Voltaire. The latter asked for leave to quit the Court. As his bad luck, or perhaps as his bad faith, would have it, he took away some trifling property to which the king considered he had a prior right. In consequence, Vol- taire was stopped at Frankfurt on his journey back to France, and had an opportunity, through the excessive zeal of Frederick's agent, of adding to his knowledge of French prisons some acquaintance with a German one. The Sitcle de Louis Quatorze was finished in Prussia. It has remained authoritative mainly regarding the litera- ture of Louis xiv. 's age, and has had a great deal to do with the spreading abroad of the reverence in which that reign is generally held. However, Louis XV. and the clergy being ill disposed towards Voltaire, the latter did not dare to take up his residence in Paris. He doubled back from France into Switzerland, and with the money he had made by successful literary labours and lucky financial speculations, he was able to buy several estates situated on the French boundary, near the banks of the Lake of Geneva. His favourite residence from 1760 was Ferney, a place which num- bered about fifty inhabitants when he came to it, and 1 66 French Literature which lie transformed into a burgh of 1200 by his skill in fostering commerce and industry, and also by the liberal spending of money on what could increase the welfare of the inhabitants. He kept up and en- larged his correspondence all the while. He encouraged the philosophes in their work, and welcomed to his residence the hundreds of visitors whom his ever- growing fame brought him. But for his increasing sourness in matters of literary rivalry, and the scurri- lous character of his attacks on the Church, which could well be read as directed against every kind of religion, these crowning years in Voltaire's long career, during which he fought some of his noblest battles in the cause of toleration, would command unmixed ad- miration. In 1778 he was called to Paris with such entreaty that he could hardly refuse to grant the wish of his fellow-citizens. He was welcomed so noisily, and was the object of such unbounded enthusiasm, that the old man sank from sheer exhaustion. At the end of three months his death terminated his triumph. His remains were laid in the Panthe'on with those of Rous- seau, who died two months later a very different death. ROUSSEAU and Voltaire had this in common, that they both fell under the ban of Church and State, and they were opposed to one another in this, that, while Vol- taire was a conservative in literature, Rousseau tapped fresh sources ; and while Voltaire was content with the radical demolition of the doctrines on which the monarchy was built up, Rousseau strove to set up a Eighteenth Century Writers 167 positive doctrine as to what the renovation of the State should be. It is of the greatest importance in the his- tory of literature, in the history of politics, and in the history of modern social order, that, at the moment when the effete French constitution was falling to pieces, and when French prose, as well as French poetry, was dying of inanition, having spent the im- petus received at the Renaissance, a fresh impetus was given to literature and to national life from without. It would not be right to lay too much stress on the fact that Rousseau was not a Frenchman, but there is no doubt that he found in his native Republic of Geneva the pattern of the political institutions, which he sub- mitted thereafter to a theoretical process of expansion, and which he presented to the French as a haven of refuge, with the enthusiasm of a patriot giving his nation as a model to less favoured peoples. Rousseau is generally admitted to have afforded new departures in three directions namely, in politics, in education, and in literature. His early education was neglected. He was in the habit of sitting up at night reading novels in the company of his father, who was a watch- maker in Geneva. Father and son pored together over the lives of Plutarch, notwithstanding that these were more suited to fire the imagination of the boy than to prepare him for a dull round of daily duties. Young- Rousseau escaped from Geneva when he was sixteen years old. He was received into the household of Madame de Warens. This lady had forsworn Pro- testantism, and she induced the young man to follow 1 68 French Literature her example. She placed him for a while at a convent in Turin, then in a seminary for priests in Savoy. Rousseau began early his wandering life. However, from the age of twenty-two to that of twenty-nine he lived in a close relationship to Madame de Warens, in the course of which he studied with some regularity. This seemed to open up for him the profession of a teacher. He gave himself a year's trial as a private tutor in a family at Lyons, and failed, owing to the excitability of his temper. Then he went to Paris, and from Paris to Venice, and back to Paris again. His intercourse with the woman known under the name of The'rese Levasseur began about that time, and ex- tended over a very long period of his life. He sent to the Foundlings' Hospital the children she gave him, with a hardness of heart that was rooted in his intense selfishness, but which was not proof against the remorse that ate the very soul out of him at a later period. In 1750 Rousseau had not yet written anything, but he had developed those contradictory features of character which, when the times are out of joint, may be the secret of a man's power for better or for worse. In that year the Academy of Dijon proposed a subject for literary competition as follows : ' Did the restoration of sciences and of letters corrupt morals, or did it make them purer ? ' Rousseau, seemingly fascinated as by the sudden flashing up of a light, to use his own words, wrote an essay in reply to this question, and took up the paradoxical position that sciences and arts, and therefore civilisation also, have Eighteenth Century Writers 169 brought about the corruption that is in man. Astronomy, he says, was born from superstition, eloquence from ambition, land-surveying from land-grabbing, physics from an idle curiosity. He would destroy all that art has brought forth, and once he had uttered this opinion he kept to it consistently to the end. He maintained that all things are good till man touches them, when they are marred by his .corruption. It became an affectation with him to shun the world, and he developed the tendency to misanthropy and even insanity that dwelt in him. The Discours sur Vorigine de I'intgaliU parmi les hommes which came next is a savage attack on the rights of property. Eousseau, in whom sub- sisted a Calvinistic trait, turned next upon theatres, theatre-goers, and playwrights in his Lettre & d'Alembert sur les spectacles, forgetting again in the excess of his paradoxical mood that art should be elevated and not banished. Hitherto, Kousseau had confined himself to general statements ; now he was about to specialise his literary performance in three directions : the romantic, the political, and the educational. The Nouvelle Hddise is such a mixture of passionateness and philo- sophy that minds which are neither overwrought nor overstrung have some difficulty in digesting it. Yet this novel, generally admitted to rank as the first model of the modern novel of sentiment and landscape paint- ing, was received with the greatest applause. It is written in letters, and the author has visibly been to school with Eichardson. In the Contrat social Eous- seau exhibits the form of Government he thinks the 170 French Literature best, in which the Church and State are one, and enforce upon all a faith in the Supreme Being and the immor- tality of the soul, while professing to put all power in the hands of the people. Of all Rousseau's works the Emile is the only one that has been thoroughly bene- ficial. There is no use in dwelling on the extrava- gant side of Eousseau's theories on education, for he was on the whole so well inspired that he set educators a-thinking far and wide, and promoted a far healthier treatment of children. The name Emile is that of the pupil of whom Rousseau professes to be in charge in his book. The famous Profession defoi du vicaire Savoyard appeared in one of the chapters of the Emile. This bold confession of Eousseau's personal faith brought him into trouble with the established authorities. It was insufficiently orthodox for Catholics and Protestants alike, though it contained enough positive belief to save it from confusion with the negativeness and aridity of a Voltaire. The gates of Paris were closed against the writer; the gates of his native town, Geneva, were shut against him likewise. He sought the pro- tection of Frederick the Great on the lands of Neu- chatel, whence he replied to his Catholic and to his Protestant accusers. Disturbed in his retreat by a local outburst of indignation, he fled to the small island of St. Pierre, which was under Bernese jurisdiction. But the Bernese were as intolerant as the Neuchatel folks. Eousseau, sent again about his business, sought a last refuge in England. By that time the eccentricities of his character had grown to alarming proportions. Eighteenth Century Writers 171 He quarrelled with Hume, who had received him in his country house. In the interval the storm raised against him in France had spent itself. He was able to accept hospitality in a small house on the lands of Ermenonville, where he spent the last months of his life. The Confessions were written during the last and most troubled part of Rousseau's existence. Their accuracy may well be doubted, and at any rate the writer was not then in a state of mind that could make him a trustworthy historian of himself. ' CHAPTER VIIL NINETEENTH CENTURY. Miscellaneous Verse. VIKNNET (1777-1868) : Fables, (Spitres, BERANGER (1780-1857) : Chansons. MILLEVOYE (1782-1816) : Elegies, poemes e'piques. LAMARTINE (1790-1869) : Meditations poetiques, La Mort de Socrate ; Harmonies poetiques et religieuses ; Jocelyn ; Chute d'un anye ; Resettlements poetiques. EMILE DESCHAMPS (1791-1871) : Etudes francaises et e"trangeres. ANTONY DESCHAMPS (1800-1869) : A metrical translation of th& Divina Commedia of Dante ; Satires. CASIMIR DELAVIGNE (1793-1843) : Lex Messeniennes, eldgies. BARTHELEMY (1796-1867) et MERY (1798-1866) : La VUUliade, a mock heroic poem ; Napoleon en Egypte, an epic poem ; La Ndmdsis (52 political satires). ALFRED DE VIGNY (1799-1863) : Molse; le Trappiste ; le Cor, etc. VICTOR HUGO (1802-1885) : Odes et Ballades, Orientales, Contempla- tions, Feuilles d'automne, Chants du Crdpuscule, etc. BARBIER (1805-1882) : Les lambes, satires. ALFRED DE MUSSET (1810-1857) : Premieres Poesies, Poesies Nou- velles ; odes, stances, sonnets, e"pitres, contes. Dramatic Art. SCRIBE (1791-1861): Comedies Bertrand et Raton; La Cama- raderie ; La Calomnie ; Le Verre d'eau, etc. CASIMIR DELAVIGNE (1793-1843): Tragedies Marino Faliero ; Louis XI. ; Les Enfants d'Edouard. Drama Don Juan d'Autriche. Comedy L'Ecole des Vieillards. 172 Nineteenth Century 173 VICTOR HUGO (1802-1885) : Dramas Cromwell ; Hernani; Luc.re.ce. Borgia ; Ruy-Blas ; Marion Delorme ; Le Boi s'amuse ; Angela ; Les Bur graves. ALEXANDRE DUMAS (1803-1870) : Dramas Henri HI. et sa com ; La Tour de Nesle. Comedies M lie de Belle-Isle ; Les Demoi- selles de Saint-Cyr ; Un Manage sous Louis X V. GEORGE SAND (1804-1876) : Comedies Le, Marquis de Villemer ; Le Mariage de Victorine. ALFRED DE MUSSET (1810-1857) : Comedies II ne faut jurer de rien ; On ne badine pas avec I'amour, un caprice ; II faut qu'une porte soit ouverte oufermee. SANDEAU (1811-1882): Comedies Mile de la Seigliere; Jean de T/iommeray. PONSARD (1814-1867): Tragedies Lucrece ; Agnes de M eranie ; Charlotte Cor day. Comedy L'Honneur et V Argent. -AuoiER (1820- ): Comedies La Cigue ; Philiberte ; Les Ef- frontes ; L ' Aventuriere ; Le Gendre de M. Poirier ; Le Fils df Giboyer ; Gabrielle ; Maitre Guerin. .ALEXANDRE DUMAS, Fils (1824- ) : Dramas and comedies La Dame aux Camelias ; Le Demi-Monde ; Le Fils nature! ; Le Pere prodigue ; Les Idees de Mme Aubray. History, Memoirs. HME DE STAEL (1776-1817) : Dix annees d'exil. CHATEAUBRIAND (1768-1848) : Memoires d'outre-tombe. SIMONDE DE SISMONDI (1773-1842) : Histoire des Frangais. BARANTE (1782-1866) : Histoire des dues de Bourgogne. GUIZOT (1782-1875): Histoire de la Revolution d'Angleterre ; Histoire generale de la civilisation en Europe ; Memoires pour servir a I'histoire de mon temps. VILLEMAIN (1790-1867) : Histoire de Cromicell. AUGUSTIN THIERRY (1795-1856) : Histoire de la Conquete de I'Angle- terre par les Normands ; Recits des temps merovingiens. MIGNET (1796-1884) : Histoire de la Revolution frangaise ; Histoire de Marie Stuart. \. THIERS (1797-1877) : Histoire de la Revolution francaise ; Histoire du Consulat et de V Empire. MICHELET (1798-1874) : Histoire de France ; Histoire de la Revolution. LANFREY (1828-1877) : Histoire de Napoleon /". 174 French Literature Fiction. XAVIEK DE MAISTRE (1764-1852) : Voyage autour de ma chambre ; Le Lepreux de la CM d'Aoste ; Les Prisonniers du Caucase ; La Jeune Siberienne. MME DE STAEL (1766-1817) : Novels Delphine ; Corinne. CHATEAUBRIAND (1768-1848) : Atala ; Rene. NODIER (1780-1844) : Mme de Marsan ; Jean Sbogar. TOEPFFER (1799-1846) : Nouvelles genevoises. ALFRED DE VIGNY (1799-1863) : Cinq-Mars. VICTOR HUGO (1802-1885): Han d'Islande ; Bug- Jargal ; Notre- Dame de Paris ; Les Misdrables. PROSPER MERIMEE (1803-1870) : La Prise de la Redoute ; Colomba, etc. ALEXANDRE DUMAS (1803-1870) : Les Trois Mousquetaires ; Im- pressions de Voyage, etc. MME GEORGE SAND (1804-1876) : Mauprat ; La petite Fadette ; Francois le Champi ; La Mare an Diable ; Le Marquis de ViUemer. HONORE DE BALZAC (1799-1850) : Novels La Comedie humaine. SANDEAU (1811-1882) : Valcreuse ; Mile de la Seigliere. SOUVESTRE (1806-1854) : Le Coin dufeu ; Pendant la moisson. OCTAVE FEUILLET (1822-1891) : La Petite Comtesse ; Le Roman d'un jeune homme pauvre ; L'Histoire de Sibylle. ERCKMANN (1822- ), CHATRIAN (1826- ): Histoire d'un consait de 1813 ; Waterloo ; Le Blocus ; UAmi Fritz. ABOUT (1828-1885) : Tolla ; Le Roi des Montagues ; Ulnfdme ; Les Mariaijes de Paris ; Les Manages de province. CHERBULIEZ (1832- ) : Le Prince Vitale ; Prosper Randoce, etc. Politics, Travels, Philosophy, Critique, Letters. JOSEPH DE MAISTRE (1753-1821) : Soirees de Saint- Petersbourg. CHATEAUBRIAND (1768-1848): Le Genie du Christianisme ; Itineraire de Paris a Jerusalem ; Bonaparte et les Bourbons. PAUL-LOUIS COURIER (1773-1825) : Pamphlets politiques et litte- raires. LAMENNAIS (1782-1854) : Essai sur V indifference en matiere de religion ; Paroles d'un croyant. Nineteenth Century 175 VILLEMAIN (1790-1870) : Cours de literature fran^aise. VICTOR COUSIN (1792-1867) : Cours de philosophic; Cours d'histoire de la philosophic ; Traduction de Platon ; Etudes litteraires. REMUSAT (1797-1875) : Essais de philosophic ; Critiques litteraires. MICHELET (1798-1874): L'Oiseau ; L'Insecte ; La Femme ; L' Amour; La Her ; La Montague. TAINE (1828- ): Les Philosophes frangais du, 19 e siecle ; Essais de critique et d'histoire ; Histoire de la litterature anglaise. PROSPER MERIMEE (1803-1870) : Lettres a une Inconnue. SAINTE-BEUVE (1804-1869) : Tableau historique et critique de la potsie fran^aise au 16 e siecle ; Causer ies du Lundi, etc. Etc. etc. - fa*. CHATEAUBRIAND. The lines on which a decided renovation of French literature could proceed had begun to be laid down by J.-J. Eousseau and his e Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. Chateaubriand Mme de Stael, who are the first writers of note after the period of the Eevolution, and who were both compelled by circumstances to travel a great deal in foreign parts when their talent was ripening, began to write under the influence of Eousseau, adding what they could find outside of France to the inspiration they received from him. The Eevolution, beginning in hopeful liberalism, advancing to a bloody anarchy, and ending in military despotism, had deeply stirred their minds. Their literary works bear the stamp of the troubled times in which they were composed. Chateau- briand was born at St. Malo, in a family of Breton noblemen. At the age of eighteen he was a soldier, but when the Eevolution dispensed with the services of noblemen, and made it dangerous for them to reside in France, he left for America, and spent some mouths in 176 French Literature the newly-formed United States. He wandered about in the solitudes of the New World, and his imagina- tion, of a decidedly sensitive and artistic kind, was greatly affected by the imposing greatness of American scenery. He turned to account his acquaintance with the New World in the same way as Bernard in de St. Pierre had used his acquaintance with tropical scenery. Eequiring a landscape in which to place the personages born from his own imaginings, and remembering Rousseau's use of the beauties of Swiss scenery, he made his Atala and his Rene move about in the soli- tudes of the virgin forests of America. His first attitude towards the Eevolution, for a gentleman of such noble stock, was sympathetic, but the seizure of the king made him join those 6migr6s who tried to win their way back to France by force of arms. This attempt having resulted in failure, he fled to England, where he spent seven years in obscurity and poverty. He wrote there, in a despondent frame of mind, his first book, L'Essai sur les revolutions, enlarging on the mistakes and misery in which mankind is fatally entangled. The death of his mother, and of one of his sisters, came then to make foremost in his mind another set of considerations. He broke with any leaning he might have to the doctrines of Voltaire, and professed a return to Christian convictions. But his mind contained more imaginative fire than spiritual force, and his return to Christianity gave more colouring to his literary work than strength or mellowness to his character. The first fruit born Nineteenth Century 177 of his conversion was the Glnie du Christianisme, which was begun in England and published on his return to France. The book is mainly concerned in showing that Christianity can supply the artist and the poet with richer themes than the pagan world can ever do. While the philosophes had driven to an extreme the example set at the Eenaissance of seeking wisdom in pagan springs, Chateaubriand, in his attempt to connect again art and poetry with religion, is very consistently brought to seek the springs of inspiration in the Middle Ages, a time in which Christian religion, to his mind, pervaded the whole of life. The novels alluded to a little above, Rent and Atcda, had a place marked out for them as episodes in the Gtiiie du Christianisme, They are samples given by Chateaubriand, showing what his new precepts could do for literature. The peculiar Christian strain in which these two short novels are written, the fiery and, to some extent, unwholesome description of psychological states over which the veil of secrecy is drawn by most people, the high colour of the style and the tinge of melancholy thrown over the whole, all going to show that the writer was in a state of mental fever, happened to correspond with the feverishness of a disturbed age. Chateaubriand came to terms for a while with the Imperial Government, till the shooting of the Due d'Eughien made it impossible for the Breton Eoyalist to co-operate with the Corsican upstart. The result was a journey to Greece, Constantinople, Asia Minor, and the Holy Land. The notes taken during this M 178 French Literature journey provided material for another book, L'ltinJrairc de Paris it Jtiiisalem, which ranked high in a kind of literature well adapted to the growing curiosity and restlessness of the age : the account of travels. In Les Martyrs he affords further illustration of the theory set forth in the Gtnie du Christianisme as to the comparative value to the literary artist of Chris- tianity and paganism. Les Martyrs, written in prose, with a wealth of metaphors and an intensity of description that belong properly to poetry, had some- thing to do with the longing that arose about that time for picturesqueness and dramatic truth in history. Augustin Thierry acknowledges both Chateaubriand and Walter Scott as having pointed out to him the way in which to treat historical matter. After the fall of Napoleon, Chateaubriand was able to take up his abode permanently in France. He passed then from letters into politics ; he was Minister of State, Ambassador, and watched from his eminence the work- ing of his ideas in the young generation. After 1830, the accession of Louis-Philippe to the throne thrust him back into the shade. He resumed then the writing of his Memoirs, to which he gave the high- sounding title of Mdmoires d'outre-tombe, because they were to be published after his death, and would fall upon the ears of his countrymen as a voice from the grave. We see in this the straining after effect which is the greatest blemish on Chateaubriand's work, and which, taken with the theatrical splendour and sumptuosity of his style, entitles one to doubt whether Nineteenth Century 179 he wrote at any time in a very sincere spirit. Be this as it may, Chateaubriand is the greatest man of letters from the decline of Eousseau's star to the rise of Victor Hugo's. 177 (>- 1*17 MME DE STAEL, born in Paris, was the daughter of a - Genevese Minister of Louis xiv., and her mother was a native of the French-speaking parts of Switzerland. She was a Protestant, and married the Swedish Ambassador at the French Court, whereby her name was changed from Necker to Stael. Her mother's drawing-room, to which she was freely admitted in girlhood, was a centre of intellectual life in which art, letters, and politics were discussed with the utmost freedom. She was prepared by her education and by the imaginative and idealistic turn of her mind to hail with delight the initial stages of the Eevolution. Like Chateaubriand, she shrank from its excesses, but she never disowned her leanings to liberalism, differing from him in this, that, while they both started from Rousseau in their search after a literary renovation, she accepted and completed the task in a liberal spirit, while Chateaubriand proceeded with a sort of conserva- tism. She showed much daring in writing in defence of the queen Marie Antoinette, and had to fly from Paris in consequence ; but she returned when order was restored, and she found herself called upon to play a part of some importance in politics. Her solid liberalism could not find favour with Bonaparte. She was exiled, sought refuge in Geneva, and went thence 180 French Literature to Italy. In 1800 she published De la littfrature con- side're'e dans ses rapports avec I'ttat moral et politique des nations, a work showing the robust hopefulness of her temperament. Then came two novels, Delphine and Corinne, which are an indirect autobiography and record of inner life ; the latter especially conveying the im- pression produced upon the authoress by Italian land- scape and monuments. The imagination of Madame de Stael is health itself when compared with that of Chateaubriand, and tempered throughout with reason. Having taken up with unflinching earnestness the cause of liberty against Napoleon, Madame de Stael, though longing for the intellectual atmosphere of Paris, and for the company that used to meet at her own house, never fell away in the slightest from her determination ; and as long as the power of Napoleon kept extending over the greater part of Continental Europe, she retreated before him from country to country. She resided for a long while at Coppet on the banks of the Lake of Geneva, where she gathered about her a large number of men, French, German, English, and Swiss, all eminent in one or another branch of literature. She travelled in Germany, and studied with a real and far-seeing interest the literature of that country, which was just reaching the height of its splendour in the hands of Goethe and Schiller. Lastly, she resided for a long while in England. Being a woman of a trained judg- ment, with well-balanced and keen reasoning powers, able to write in a philosophic and poetic style, she realised how much French literature would gain by Nineteenth Century 181 being brought into unison with that of Germany and England. In her book De VAllemagne she threw wide open the door already set ajar so far as England is concerned, at any rate by Voltaire, and carried further the emancipation of French literature from formalism. This book, written in a spirit generous to the nations trampled upon by Napoleon, was so totally at variance with Napoleon's opinion as to what the place of literature should be in his Empire that its first edition printed in Paris was destroyed by the police officers. However, Mme de Stael was able to bring the work out a little later in London. Her last work of considerable im- portance was Dix annfas d'exil, where her forced travels on the Continent, to the North, and to England are described. When the house of Bourbon resumed possession of the throne of France, Mme de Stael was able to return to her beloved Paris. She con- tracted a second marriage with a man many years younger than herself, who died a few months after her, in 1818. "] BRA.NGER. Chateaubriand and Mme de Stael, who led their countrymen straight to the Romantic move- ment, which reached its height with Victor Hugo, already fully represented the literary tendencies of the Nineteenth Century. The kind of prose used in their imaginative productions brought about a second birth of lyricism, smothered since the end of the Sixteenth Century. Notwithstanding this, the mould of thought and the build of verse remained semi-classical with a 1 82 French Literature few poets, such as Beranger, who found his inspiration in national and patriotic feelings, and in his sympathy with the domestic life and the trials of the common people. He was born in Paris. The street scenes of the Eevolution, such as the taking of the Bastille by the people, left on his mind an indelible impression. Having been given in a country town some work in a printer's office, and having joined a primary school managed according to the ideas of Rousseau, he was able to acquire by reading a certain quantity of knowledge. He studied attentively Moliere and La Fontaine, and took, as a pastime and as a means of entertaining his companions when sitting round festive boards, to the song-writing that has made him famous. But on dis- covering that his songs were popular, that the State was afraid of them, and that he could draw, like La Fontaine, into their comparatively narrow compass every kind of poetry, he became a cliatisonni&r by pro- fession. He was saved from poverty, which would have been hurtful to a talent like his, by the generosity of a member of the Bonaparte family, and later by fill- ing a small post at the offices of the University. His songs came out in successive volumes, and were generally greeted by the imposition of fines, which his friends paid for him. The influence of his songs on the course of politics was considerable. The glamour of the Napoleonic victories was on his lyre, and he kept alive the memory of the great warrior in the hearts of the people, though he was in reality a friend of peace. He was a good example of a combination of wit and Nineteenth Century 183 lyricism almost impossible in any other language than French, and perhaps the most original feature of French literature. ft ALFRED DE VIGNY, a nobleman by birth, and a soldier at an early age, resigned his commission in 1827 that he might give himself up entirely to his literary tastes. *** v TvHe belonged to the inner circle of the men devoted to romanticism, and he began to be known to fame about the same time as Lamartine and Beranger, a few years before Victor Hugo. He inherited the sobriety of the esprit fran$ais for the want of which many romantics went altogether astray. His poetical work is not ex- tensive, but the lyrical beauty and harmony of his lines, their sustained and contained power, the true nobility of the feelings expressed, all combine to place his poems in the very first rank. One of his most famous shorter pieces treats of the last battle of Eoland in the Valley of Bonce vaux. An episode of the naval battle of Aboukir was also beautifully treated by him in a patriotic strain. Vigny distinguished himself as a novelist by writing historical romances. Cinq-Mars, which shows Eichelieu in an unfavourable light ; Stello, in which the life stories of Chatterton, Gilbert, and Andre* Chdnier are treated in a spirit which is not quite true to history; and Servitiide et grandeur militaire, in which military honour gives the moral element to the plot are all beautifully written books, rich in seriousness and sincerity. A few months before Victor Hugo put his Hernani on the stage, Vigny brought out 184 French Literature an Othello translated from Shakespeare. The success ofpChatterton, in 1835, crowned his theatrical career. ALFRED DE MUSSET was born in Paris. He showed very early an intense dislike to any profession. Though * well-born, his natural disposition was towards 1 ** 4 * . . imamsm. The ambition of his youth was to become acquainted with life, to drink the cup to the dregs, and ^ l earn everything by personal experience. He rea P e djjv/J/^ the fruit of his rashness in waste of physical strength, ^c <*Ji> and in the frequent misdirection of his talent. The ff^^tt. A*. spending of his nights in gambling and in prolonged " dancing, the seeking of excitement in profligacy, and the utter carelessness with which he handled his beau- tiful poetic gifts, resulted in poems that are often unwholesome, though always charming. He is one of many Frenchmen blending wit and passionateness, with one side of their nature sunk in Byronism, and rising by another side to the noblest flights of spiritual life. The personage of Don Juan is a favourite one with him ; but the eyes of Don Juan are sometimes turned up to heaven, and he raises from the depths of debauchery a voice with such a true ring of despair in it, that it is impossible to hear it without being touched. His first collection of poems, so far as the form is concerned, was a challenge thrown out to the defenders of classical traditions. Shortly after the publication of his second collection, from which the intention of producing a paradoxical piece of work is happily absent, and in which his finest and most spoil- Nineteenth Century 185 taneous lyricism is to be found, he accompanied George Sand on a journey she made to Venice. The associa- tion of two such spirits, both insufficiently weighted with reason, bore evil fruit. There arose between them an estrangement, which was hotly commented upon at the time, and which brought nothing but misery to Musset. He was librarian at the Home Office under the reign of Louis Philippe. The latter part of his life is a sad picture of mental powerlessness and moral misery. He was unable to keep the respect of the public, and but few people accompanied him to his last resting-place. Alfred de Musset is a more human poet than even Victor. Hugo. He writes in fewer words than the latter, and with the greatest music of soul that has, perhaps, ever been known. His Nuits, a series of poems, the title of which is clearly borrowed from Young's Night Thoughts? the opening pages of Holla, the Lettre a Lamartine, all coming straight from the conscience and the heart, at once manly and tender, are his masterpieces. ci LA.MAKTINE was born at Macon, educated at home, and received from his family its monarchical traditions. .* u I, Unfit to endure the restraints of school life, he took aw* ^K course of his own towards Bernardin de St. Pierre and Chateaubriand, whose manner and subjects were to his liking. Travels in Italy, at an age when a J dreamy temperament is most susceptible to influence, produced effects on his mind similar to those made on the minds of his two favourite prose poets. 1 86 French Literature A soldier in his youth, like almost every French noble- man, he spent some years in foreign travel before 1820, when he was attached to the French Embassy at Florence. He married there a wealthy Englishwoman, who was to him a faithful and noble wife, and bore her share of the trials which the poet's unfitness for business brought upon him. In the meanwhile he had published his Meditations poetiques, in which there is no trace of the classical inheritance of France, except in the avoidance of eccentricities of style. These lyrical poems, bursting all at once into bloom in a field that had long presented a parched and dried-up aspect, fell upon the ears of the contemporary generation as a first satisfaction granted to the new spirit of the age. The French reading public was no longer recruited in its majority from the class of people who had applauded Racine, Voltaire, and even Beaumarchais. The- hearts of the middle classes had to be won, and this could not be done by putting before them the strains that had delighted the courtiers of Louis xiv. A more human spirit, the domestic affections, the inner life of the soul, sentiments at once natural and ideal such was the material of which the new poetry should be made in order to be read, and to fulfil its lofty mission. Even the Paris drawing-rooms, in which lingered many of the old prejudices, received with favour this poet who went back to Petrarch when he was not merely himself. After publishing Les Nouvelles Meditations, and Lcs Harmonies podtiques, Lamartine tried his hand at politics. Then he travelled in the East for sixteen Nineteenth Century 187 months, and, after bringing out several other poems, he began his history of the Girondins. This exposition of the doings and fate of the moderate party among the French Revolutionists of 1789 had a practical bearing on the state of politics in the reign of Louis-Philippe. Lamartine came to power when this prince was driven from the throne in 1848, and acted then himself with great bravery the part of a Girondin. The Restoration of the Empire under Napoleon in. thrust him back into private life. He was then loaded with debt, and began to use his popularity as a means of making money. He produced a large number of books dealing with historical subjects, written in a flowing style, but without weight. He was pensioned at last, two years before his death. In the great outburst of lyrical poetry that marks the second twenty years of this century, Lamartine has struck the purest note. He was free from the passions that disturbed the peace of soul of Musset. Looking upon man and the world as the work of God, he was able to conceive them as a harmonious whole, to read everywhere the workings of the Infinite, and to confine his poetical eyesight to those realities which do not contradict one's ideal. His only misfortune was that the very harmony of his being deprived him of variety of experience, and there is not found in him that dramatic touch in the absence of which even the purest lyrical inspiration is dragged down to monotony. VICTOR HUGO was during the first part of his long i*>f * 1 88 French Literature life the acknowledged chief of the romantic school ; and in the second half, when the wave of novelty had subsided, and when, after gaining the victory, the excitement of battle had cooled down, he became the acknowledged chief of French men of letters, a few of whom only had resisted his influence, while all agreed to honour him as their patriarch. It was said of Voltaire that, although he was second in every department of literature, he was first in none. The same judgment could be passed on Victor Hugo with the exception that in lyrics he does stand first, and as high as the French language is ever likely to admit of. Victor Hugo in his age is a still greater figure than Voltaire in the preceding age. He is also of a totally different character. While emancipating the intellect of modern society, Voltaire put forth a narrowing in- fluence in what appertains to heart and spirit, to say nothing of his conservatism in the form of literature. Victor Hugo in contrast to him put forth a deepening, widening, and elevating influence. He set every kind of literature free from the cramping bonds of fixed criticism. He played his part a very considerable one in the battle for the liberties and social rights of the French people, upheld perseveringly the cause of religion and spirituality, and never came to any shabby compromise with the political powers of the day, or with any popular whim. He was born at Besan9on in Franche-Comte', a province which for a long time had belonged to the Spanish Crown. It was by the merest chance that Victor Hugo's birthplace was so situated, Nineteenth Century 189 for his father was a military officer who moved to and fro whither his duty might lead him. For all that, there is in Victor Hugo something too grand, too pompous, for a Frenchman something that smacks of the Spaniard. His mother hailed from Vendee, a province which vowed to the aristocracy, the estab- lished Church, and the kings of the House of Bourbon a respect so deeply rooted that it rose in arms against the ^Revolution. The relation in which young Victor Hugo stood through his mother to the ancien regime became apparent in his first poetic effusions. He was in Spain with his father when nine years old, and was about to enter the Polytechnic School in Paris when, at the age of fifteen, he competed for a prize offered by the French Academy, and failed to get it, not because his poem was not the best, but because he was simple- minded enough to state his age. The Immortels thought it a moral offence in so good a poet that he should pre- tend to be so young, and they believed it their duty to punish him for a statement which on the face of it must be a lie. A little later he fell under the influence of Chateaubriand. From the very beginning of his literary career he cultivated the art of novel- writing as well as that of lyric poetry. He took to theatrical com- position a little later. His work as a political satirist and as a humanitarian belongs to his maturer years, though to his death he continued to carry on com- position in the most different directions simultaneously. His volumes of lyrical contents appeared in the follow- ing order. First, the Odes et ballades : these are akin to 190 French Literature the ideas he had inherited from his mother. Next, the Orientates, the dazzling play of a splendid imagination to which sentiment and even sensation are less im- portant than the shimmer of words. The'ophile Gautier imitated this Hugoesque strain. The Feuilles d'Automne may be called the domestic poetry of heart and soul. The tone is homely, emotional, and pathetic. Victor Hugo passed from the Royalistic camp to liberalism about the time when he wrote these poems. In the Chants du crtpuscule the political uncertainties of the time combined with the doubts of the poet in several spheres of thought to make up the character of the book. In the Voix inttrieures and in the Rayons et les Ombres the poet keeps on the whole to the same themes. In 1841 he was elected a member of the Academy, and four years later he was made, as a reward for his liberalism, a peer of the realm by Louis-Philippe. During the Second Republic, instituted in 1848, his attention, like that of Lamartine's, was entirely taken up with politics. He sided against the party which invested Louis-Napoleon with the first dignity in the State ; and his views, consistently liberal hitherto, be- came more and more favourable to democracy. The newly elected emperor banished him. The poet with- drew to Jersey. He never yielded an inch of his con- victions to Napoleon in., and did not set foot again on French soil till after his fall in 1870. Throughout the period known as the Second Empire Victor Hugo kept pouring forth on the emperor the vials of his bitterness, in the Chdtiments and in Napoleon le Petit. During the Nineteenth Century 191 long residence in Jersey, in this forced abstinence from politics, his lyrical power grew abnormally, owing to the comparative solitude in which he lived, and to the want of the derivative channels which an active social life would have given him. The Contemplations belong mostly to that period. In the Legende des siedes the poet's gifts run into the shadowy and gigantic. The different ages of mankind are there represented in suc- cessive pictures purporting to show the ascent of man from original darkness to the ideal. In VAnnee terrible an account is given of the battle of Sedan and the scenes in Paris during the siege. From the days of the Franco-German war to his death, Victor Hugo took up his abode again in Paris, which he loved beyond measure, and upon which he has cast no little ridicule by calling it the Ville-Lumiere. As he advanced in age he played his part seriously as visible head of French literature ; and the respect due to his achieve- ments having degenerated into flat adulation, his last productions, spoilt beforehand by the long absence of outer criticism, revealed also a growing deficiency in self-criticism. For all that, Victor Hugo in his old age was surrounded with universal love, and the thousands of Frenchmen who accompanied him to his last resting- place in 1885 were only duly honouring one of the greatest and best men of modern times. His novels, Notre-Dame de Paris, Les Mis6rdbles ) Quatre-vingt-treize, the first representing a scene from the life of the common people in a mediaeval frame ; the second dealing with the successful struggle of a 1 92 French Literature convict to recover his lost character : the third setting forth an episode in the Vendean war, are still better known than his lyrics. But it is as a writer of plays that Victor Hugo achieved his greatest triumphs though not his most lasting ones. He set about gaining accept- ance among the public for a new conception of dramatic art, which stood in direct opposition to the classical one. The great battle between the rival schools of the romanticists and classicists was fought at the acting of Victor Hugo's play Hernani in 1829. The classicists were routed. It was the feeling of the majority of the audience that Hernani corresponded to a higher ideal of dramatic art than the plays upheld by the classicists. The tragic elements of Hernani are borrowed from Spanish life, as had been the case two hundred years earlier with Corneille's Gid. Victor Hugo had prepared himself for his romantic departure by a careful study of Shakespeare. Previously to Hernani he had com- posed on Shakespearean lines Cromwell, a play too un- wieldy to be put on the stage. After the acting of Hernani, that of Marion Delorme became possible, and Victor Hugo's run of success was continued in le Eoi s amuse. In his later plays, the attraction of novelty having worn off, and freedom from formalism, which it was his purpose to win, having been attained, the mannerism of Victor Hugo's art was perceived by the general public, as it had all along struck the eye of self-possessed critics. There was in Victor Hugo too much imagination and not enough psychology to make of him a first-rate playwright ; but his successful Nineteenth Century 193 crusade instilled fresh life into the French drama, and a large number of plays by a legion of dramatists have borne witness to the fruit of his initiative. SAINTE-BEUVE has done as much in our century to instil fresh life into literary criticism as Victor Hugo did in the field of literary production. He was born at Boulogne. His mother was an Englishwoman. He <**x- 1 fc . studied in his native town and then in Paris. For a ^ time he fancied he would become a physician, but his true call was to letters, and he became a contributor to the famous newspaper called the Globe, whose staff was recruited from among the most talented young men of the day. He had occasion to write a criticism on Victor Hugo's Odes et ballades. This brought him into close association with the poet. In 1829 came out the Poesies de Joseph Delorme, the latter part of the title being the name under which Sainte-Beuve hid his identity. However much he might accept the position taken up by the romanticists, he was not so wedded to their habits as to be a mere reflection of Victor Hugo. If he was under the influence of any one in particu- lar at that time, it was that of the English poets. Sainte-Beuve's success as a critic soon cast into the shade his undoubted poetical talent. No critic of literature has ever written so much or so well. He endeavoured, in his articles contributed to the Globe, to link the romanticists to Eonsard and the Pleiade. This might be good diplomacy, but it introduced an ana- logy where there is properly none, for Eonsard clearly N 194 French Literature endeavoured to set French art on a par with that of Greece and Eome, while the romanticists, cutting them- selves away from Greece and Rome as from the century of Louis xiv., claimed association with the northern literatures, if with any at all. Sainte-Beuve wrote one systematic piece of literary history his Tableau de la poesie fran$aise. Another lengthy piece of connected composition is his Histoire de Port-Royal. As for his literary criticisms, on which rests his fame, they were generally written at the rate of one paper a week contri- buted to the Globe, the Eevue de Paris, and the Eevue des Deiix Mondes. They form at present a long series of volumes known as the Portraits littdraires, the Causeries du hindi, the Nouveaux lundis, and the Por- traits contemporains. He completely revolutionised the science of criticism, simply by altering the stand- point of the critic. Literary productions were before him considered as ouvrages d'esprit (products of the mind). But when it became a need with modern Europe to read books written not with one's mind only but with one's whole nature, Sainte-Beuve, be- fore judging of a literary performance, took into con- sideration the whole moral disposition of the writer as being of greater moment than bare literary ability. VILLEMAIN was born in Paris, and is not wrongly looked upon as the link between the old school of CincK> criticism and the new one. Two works of his youth were crowned by the French Academy, of which he became later a member and the perpetual secretary. Nineteenth Century 195 He was a Professor in La Sorbonne from 1827, where he commanded success by a style of delivery which was sufficiently scholarly and yet calculated to please the general public. His most noteworthy series of lessons were collected by him in the Tableau de la lit- Umture, frangaise au moyen dge, and in the Literature au XVIII 6 sitcle. Villemain followed the example set by Mme de Stae'l in studying the literature of other countries than France, in marking the reciprocal in- fluence of foreign literature on the native and of the native on the foreign, and in encouraging the use of the comparative method in criticism. Spain, Italy, France, and England came more especially within his purview. In his lessons he endeavoured to act the part of an arbitrator between romanticists and classicists, calling the attention of his pupils with great impartiality to the merits and defects of either school. PAUL Louis COURIER was a writer of political '773 pamphlets, which are famous for their pointed sarcasm and the sharp crispness of the style. He was an officer of artillery, who filled his long hours of leisure with the study of Greek literature. His father held that the time given to the study of the dead languages was wasted ; but to the son this kind of occupation brought the keenest pleasure. ' Are those who do not study them,' he would say, 'any the happier?' In the course of his soldiering he was taken to Italy, where he com- plained that the French soldiery made havoc in the public libraries ; and instead of carrying out forthwith 196 French Literature the orders he might receive from his chiefs, he was known at least once to delay while he was copying some Greek treatise. In 1809, after leaving the army, he was unfortunate enough to make a blot with ink on a manu- script which he was copying. A few words were made thereby illegible, and there was an outcry of correspond- ing magnitude among scholars. Courier wrote in reply his Lettre in Renouard. Then he married the daughter of a Hellenist, and wrote his political pamphlets in the years that followed the Eestoration of the House of Bourbon. In these papers he took to task the reaction- ary and ultra-conservative policy of Louis xvm. This put him on a par with Be'ranger, as a dangerous liberal worthy of imprisonment. They were fellow-convicts in the same prison. The last years of Courier were spent in the country near Tours. His gamekeeper shot him. n<7 f ivyk AUGUSTIN THIERRY is the most interesting of the first- rate historians produced by France in this century. From as far back as the middle ages down to his times, ""historical subjects had been handled inaccurately or - fancifully. He began by a criticism of the bad habits of his predecessors. He was therefore already pre- pared to strike out a new path, when he was further enlightened by reading Chateaubriand's Martyrs and Walter Scott's historical romances. It became clear to him that history should not derive its colour from one's imagination, nor should it serve party ends or purely literary purposes; but it should receive its character from the men and the times it professes Nineteenth Century 197 to describe. In consequence, when the personalities of writers became paramount in France in imparting a fresh stamp to literary work in general, history, on the contrary, began to be told on its own merits, any purpose of the writer was withdrawn from it, and facts shone forth in their own light. Augustin Thierry was born at Blois. In his en- deavours to find in old documents the true character and real life of ancient times he lost his eyesight. His Histoire de la conqutte de I'Angleterre par Us Nor- mands is a masterpiece in French literature. Then came the Remits des temps mfrovingiens, in which the life of a long misunderstood period is faithfully ren- dered. In the preface to Dix cms d'ttudes historiques, Thierry explains what labour he expended before he reached his ideal as a historian. Indeed, his Saxons and Normans, his Gallo-Eomans and Franks, spring to life again in his pages in full possession of their long-lost identity, and poetical in their originality. Thierry did not allow either blindness or bad health to stand in his way, being convinced, as he said, that there is in the world something that is worth more than worldly pleasures, than fortune, than health itself namely, devotion to science. BARANTE attended the Ecole Poly technique and if &.- entered the Civil Service of the State. Attention was >K/iUout <**> called to him by his Tableau de la literature francaise i?** 2>r\AXxvn*~LA. au XVIII* siecle, and by the edition he gave of the most interesting Memoires de Mme de La Rochejaquelein. 198 French Literature Like Thierry, he had power to neutralise his predisposi- tions, and to enter into the spirit of the times he described in the Histoire des dues de Bourgogne de la maison de Valois. He modernised the stories of Froissart, Monstrelet, and Philippe de Commines, who were contemporary with the period, while preserving the simplicity and guilelessness of their style. i GUIZOT attached himself more to the philosophy of *,.-- . (^history than to its plain pictorial rendering. He was (XivL*dtL*-et^k or11 at Nimes, of Protestant parents. He received < "^rfaa- * . his education in Geneva, and then became a student ^. of the law in Paris, and a private tutor. Some articles on education and on literature, and also a very Remarkable preface to a new edition of Letourneur's &x. r^t/w**u**-t rans i a ti on Shakespeare, in which Guizot showed ^^p "^himself endowed with a judgment in aesthetic matters equal to that of Mme de Stael, won for him the Chair of History in La Sorbonne. During the reigns of Louis XVIIL, Charles x., and Louis-Philippe, Guizot had a chequered career, not only as a professor, but also as a statesman. He was in and out of his Chair more than once, and also in and out of office several times. As a Minister of Public Instruction, he endowed France with a system of primary schools on which was reared the whole edifice of popular instruction as it exists now. While he was Minister for Foreign Affairs, he fell out of touch with the national feeling, and the fall of Louis-Philippe was partly due to his unbending home policy. His lectures gave rise to the following Nineteenth Century 199 works the Histoire de la civilisation en Europe, and the Histoire de la civilisation en France. The develop- ment of modern societies viewed from their political side, and the stages in the intellectual progress of civilised man such are the main topics written of by Guizot, in the plain style that one would naturally expect from a conscientious historian. L'Histoire de la Revolution d'Angleterre, treating of concrete facts rather than of abstractions, reminds one of Thierry's work. It is a lifelike rendering of a troubled period. MICHELET is by no means so impartial a historian as l~/'*> BALZAC was born at Tours, and began his literary U career by writing a number of novels which fell quite flat. He attained to some fame only after the publica- tion of Le Chouan in 1829. His father wished that he should become a lawyer, and kept him on very short commons when he took to literature, though he settled down to labours of the most strenuous kind. Howev he had the misfortune to fall into debt, as the result of unlucky speculations in the book trade, and found him- self in after life in very much the same position as Walter Scott when his publishers became bankrupt, or as Lamartine, who toiled year after year with a view to meeting his obligations. He would have courted, how- ever, for the sake of popularity alone, the feverish activity which was forced upon him by a sordid cause. He fell in love with a Polish countess, and had just married her after many vicissitudes, and was laying down the burden of ceaseless work, when he died. The picture of Balzac sitting week after week and month after month in a dingy Paris lodging, absorbed in the eager composition of novels destined to the greatest fame, forms a striking episode in the long tale of the trials attending the profession of literature. Balzac is generally set down as the chief of the modern realistic school. The actual and the real were often depicted before. But what he did was to introduce strictness 204 French Literature and close accuracy in the analysis of character as well as in the description of physical characteristics. The romantic element is utterly absent from his artistic purpose ; but, as romance is part and parcel of human character, it forced itself indirectly upon Balzac, how- ever much narrow-minded realists may decline to ac- knowledge it. Besides, Balzac had read Walter Scott, and himself bore testimony to the influence he received from him. Balzac, as was only natural, fell more and more under subjection to the style which gave him with the public a name for originality. He then dwelt more on the repulsive sides of life, and on physical and moral ugliness. After him, realism, conceived exclusively as the painting of vices and of horrors, took the name of naturalism. The most famous novels of Balzac are Eugenie Grandet, Le pbre Goriot, Ursule_^ir(niMj La Peau de Gliagrin^Glsoir Birotteau^ etc. Owing to their number, he classified them into categories or types under the general title Comddie humaine, comprising scenes from private life, scenes of military life, scenes of Parisian life, scenes of rural life, etc. M^RIM^E, the son of a painter, was born in Paris, became an advocate, and received an appointment in the Civil Service of his country. His first work created quite a sensation. It was a collection of tragic and comic plays, and the two were combined in a manner ^at excee ded the daring of Victor Hugo. Two years later he claimed to have discovered the songs of a hitherto unknown Illyrian___iard, who turned out to Nineteenth Century 205 be himself. Then came short tales in prose, in which he showed consummate skill in giving interest to the plots, and in impressing upon the characters the stamp of truth. Instead of accumulating realistic touches as Balzac did, he set about putting the one right touch which, by itself, would show the whole man. The Prise de la redoute, a sketch of a few pages, and Colombo,, a novel of a few chapters, are his masterpieces. The_ V6nus d'flle is a story of mediaeval origin. Me'rime'e is a realist like Balzac, but he was saved from the grossness of the latter by cultivating the Ancient Greeks. FLAUBERT, son of a surgeon in Rouen, studied law i Paris till he was interrupted by illness. From that moment the writing of novels took up all his attention. He used to say : ' The subject of a work of art is meaningless ; execution alone is important. Art should be cultivated for its own sake ; an artist should be a pagan, and worship form, and nothing else.' His first imaginative composition met with the disapproval of his friends. It was the Tentation de Saint-Antoine, which he recast, and did not give out till 1871. In the meantime he chose for a study a family which his father had known, and after working it up for the space of three years he brought it out under the title of Madame Bovary. This novel outdid Balzac in point of realism, and the author was called upon to answer for the writing of it in a police-court. As, after all, it was not written in order to openly defy morals, but was 206 French Literatitre simply the outcome of artistic preoccupations, Flau- bert was acquitted. He next wrote Salammbo, inaugu- rating a class of work in which he may boast of having Eider Haggard as a very inferior disciple. The scene of Salammbd is laid in Africa at the end of the first Punic war, amid an uprising of the mercenary troops of Carthage. Flaubert carried out to the utmost his pre- cept, ' Worship the form,' applying it to himself with the greatest severity. CONCLUSION. We refrain from giving an account of the latest period of French literature, which has not yet attained to the dignity of being historical. The following works are recommended : 1. Histoire abrfyde de la litte"rature francaise, by Charles Cottier. 2. Lemons de literature franchise, by Petit de Julleville. 3. Saintsbury's Primer of French Literature. 4. Keene's Literature of France (Murray's University Extension Manuals). 5. Saintsbury's Short History of French Literature. 6. Vinet's Histoire de la littdrature franchise au XVIII" siecle, Poetes de Louis XIV., Moralistes, etc. 7. Nisard's Histoire de la literature franchise. 4 vols. 8. Paul Albert's Literature francaise. 4 vols. CHAPTER IX, THE RELATIONS BETWEEN FRENCH AND ENGLISH LITERATURE. ANTHONY HAMILTON is a convenient landmark whence to start on a survey of the mutual relation between the literatures of England and of France, for he appears at the dividing-point between two periods in both countries. But he offers no inducement to linger beside him, save the dry ness of his wit. Eabelais before him had found his way across the Channel, as is visible in the works of Eobert Burton, Sir Thomas Urquhart, Swift, Sterne, and Southey. Calvin's language and his logic had introduced their firmness and - austerity. Earlier than either, French romances, tales, and alle- goric compositions had restored to England, in an elaborate shape, much material derived in the obscurest mediaeval times from Britain's best Gaelic strain. In 1660, when Hamilton, after gracing the Court of Louis xiv. at Versailles, enlivened that of Charles II., English literature, nurtured in its more vital sources by Gaelic, Anglo-Saxon, Norse, and Norman blood, was, in its outer expressions, just emerging from a long spell of Italian influence. At the same time, French classical 207 208 French Literature literature was touching its ripest and fullest point, and its merit, enhanced by a lull in the original produc- tivity of Italy, Spain, Germany, and England, was about to dominate Europe for a hundred years. Corneille, by his tragedies and his critical essays on the unities of action, time, and place ; Boileau, by his ' Art Poe'tique,' setting up good sense as a standard of taste, and Latin rhetorics as a matter of style ; Moliere, by his comedy of manners, his broad comedy, and his amendment of the Italian farcical plays ; Eacine, by the courtliness of his art courtly because his audience was aristocratic, his personages kings and queens, and their sentiments polite had brought French literature so fully into touch with the centres of worldly and fashionable culture in Europe, that England for a while turned away from its rightful masters in inspiration, such as Shakespeare and Milton, and procured for its literature a whole array of French-taught patrons, such as Dryden, the Earl of Eoscommon, the Earl of Mul- grave, Thomas Otway, Wycherley, Congreve, Addison, Pope, and Bolingbroke. But while in literature, properly so called, the French were leading the English in chains behind their triumphal car, there was, in respect of social philosophy and general criticism, a steady current setting in from England to France. Such social writers as Shaftesbury, Wollaston, Collins, Tindal, and such philosophic critics as Burke, Eeid, William Hogarth, Adam Smith, Hutcheson, Campbell, Addison, and Pope, appealed first to the French. There is in that list French and English Literature 209 more than one name which ordinarily read Englishmen will with difficulty recognise. Yet it was on feeling some mental communion with those men that Mon- tesquieu, Voltaire, and Kousseau, to mention the fore- most only, came to Great Britain, connecting it directly with the preliminaries to the French Revolution on one hand, and, by a further action, with the reformation of French literature. A volume of Lettres sur les Anglais et les Franqais was published in 1725 ; and in 1731 appeared Voltaire's Lettres sur les Anglais. His judgments on England are crude ; he writes in the vein of an overweening school-boy travelling in wonderland. He bestows full praise on what he wishes for France, namely, civil and religious liberty ; but he sees Shake- speare with the eyes of Tom Thumb scanning the sleeping giant, first blankly, then knowingly, and blandly at last, when he believes he has robbed him of his boots. For Voltaire did try to walk in Shakespeare's shoes. He cut Zaire out of Othello, and La Mort de Cesar out of Julius Ccesar. Voltaire, however, ground Shakespeare so small in his rhetorical mill, that the Lettres sur les Anglais might well have passed un- noticed, had the French Government not worked strenu- ously to suppress them. They were condemned by the Paris Parliament, vetoed by the Pope, and burned by the hangman. This made them so popular, and gave Shakespeare such advantages, that Voltaire began to fear usurpation of his literary kingship. He turned upon his own protege, and launched forth into satire against him and Otway. Voltaire's alarm knew no 2io French Literature bounds when a ' priggish youth,' of the name of Letour- neur, put Shakespeare into French ; and he must have turned in his grave when Ducis, an adapter of Shake- spearean plays, after years of unbroken success, was appointed to succeed him as an Academician. Still Ducis had been faithf ul enough to the French traditions in divesting his rendering of almost all Shakespearean elements. In his old age, putting in the winter months a wreath of boxwood round the brow of 'William,' whose bust adorned his apartment, Ducis would say complacently : ' Behold how I honour him after the fashion of the Greeks : they used to crown the springs whence they drew their water.' Thus, drop by drop, Shakespeare trickled on to the bed of French literature till the time of Victor Hugo. In 1822, Guizot struck a fuller note of appreciation in his preface to a new edition of Letourneur's transla- tion. He explained how literature follows in the wake of the revolutions of the human mind (the main-line of evolution, as recent critics would call it) ; how theatrical literature rests on manners, faith, and national history, and how in consequence it lost its force when it was produced in Paris for a class only ; how Shakespeare, in his tragedies, is a man holding a stake in the moral life of mankind, while in his comedies he is simply an amused playwright. ' Man/ says Guizot, ' sees beauty in certain combinations to which our judgment has the key, as soon as our emotions have experienced their effectiveness. In the knowledge and uses of these com- binations consists Shakespearean art.' Victor Hugo's French and English Literature 2 1 1 preface to his Cromwell sets forth in a more personal manner a similar dramatic theory. Amid much sensible talk concerning the classical unities, and after treating of the nature of dramatic verse, local colour, and directness of expression, he builds up the doctrine that the spirit of humanity has passed through three stages. In the first, it was face to face with God and nature ; in the second, men were in sight of one another when they expressed their relations in epic poetry; in the third, aware of their spiritual origin, and alive to the conflict of their double nature in its tragic and comic aspects, they held up the mirror in the Shakespearean sense to their faces, and flashed their own image upon the dramatic stage. Victor Hugo's manifesto was the signal for an excited battle. Classicists and Romanticists, who had pressed in the lecture-room round Villemain, the professorial critic of the day, now carried their warfare into the theatres. Both bands now clamoured for victory, but Villemain preserved the attitude of an arbitrator. At one time he had, in presence of both camps, set up a comparison between Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar and Voltaire's La Mort de C&ar. Beginning with the latter play, he touched upon its merits in their order of pro- gression, gave a half-measure of praise, and to a breath- less audience, such as exists in France alone, proceeded to read what was, he said, the capital passage. No sooner had the Classicists, thrilled by its beauty, raised triumphant shouts, than the lecturer calmly observed that these lines were imitated from Shakespeare. The 2 i 2 French Literature shouts now came from the hitherto silent camp, whose delight increased as Villemain pointed to the wealth of life impressions crowded into Shakespeare's play by the free working of his dramatic sense. It is noteworthy that the name of the Romantic school had, long before its rise, been hit upon by Letourneur in the course of his English studies. What an interesting story could be written of that word : designing first the language and things of ancient Rome, then applied during the middle ages to tales of adven- ture and sentiment, because they were so well told in Old French, the earliest Romance tongue ! Letourneur has it that only two words exist in French to char- acterise a landscape, a scene, a spectacle, which charms the eye and detains the imagination; and they are insufficient to betoken the melancholy ideas and emotions which such a vision may arouse. The first, romanesque, bears along with it an uncomplimentary reflection upon the person or thing it designates; the second, pittorcsqiie, only expresses the technical merits of a theme. The English word is happier and more forcible. It expresses at once the points of the physical vision and its moral effects. If a valley is picturesque, it is merely a fit subject for a picture. If it is romantic, one's spirit craves to rest there, the eye delights in ils contemplation, a tender imagination peoples it with sympathetic shapes, and forgets the valley to dwell upon the ideas that are suggested by it. The fact is, that when Letourneur expressed himself with such just feel- ing, the intense reasonableness imparted to French French and English Literature 2 1 3 literary art since Montaigne wrote in prose, and Mal- herbe and Boileau in verse, had not loosened its hold on literary men. Day-dreaming had no acknowledged outlet. Love of nature, patriotism, religious emotion, the inner play of sentiment and passion, were without a spokesman, save Rousseau, who was not a Frenchman. Not so in England, where Thomson, Young, and Richardson were fully engaged upon these very subjects. Letourneur introduced Young, Sterne, and Richardson to the French reading public ; Thomson found a trans- lator in St. Lambert, and a disciple in Delille. For a time the Night Thoughts was the rage. Gloomy breedings and pathetic verse were in fashion. The delights of rural life were stiffly presented in pedestrian lines, cast in the classical mould. The English poets, brought into contact in France with an accumulation of original material ready for literary treatment, helped to gain recognition for themes of this kind. Aching breasts fancied the music of rushing mountain rills, and waxed eloquent over it. The voices of the winds in the pine forests were understood and caught in the chords of the lyre. To accommodate this inrush of sentiment and nature, a wing was added to the temple of French literature, and critics com- pelled to take cognisance of it. In fact, the emotional fires kindled by Young and Rousseau, Chateaubriand and Byron, spread to and lived in Millevoye's Chute dcs Feuilles, in Victor Hugo's Tristesse d' Olympic, in Lamartine's Le Lac, in Alfred de Musset's Les Nuits, in Goethe's Werther, in Heine, and in Leopardi. 214 French Literature A Scottish poetry with an inspiration more real, though less authentic, than that of Thomson, the Ossiauic songs, had perhaps more influence, and found more credit, in France than anywhere else. Its distant strain seemed to have an unmistakably Scandinavian and Gaelic ring. Letourneur had the good fortune to trans- late it. From that moment Ossian was adopted by the French nation. As if a vision of heather glens and Highland bens had suddenly swept down from the North, an echo of the bagpipe was wafted from the shore of misty lochs ; the shadow of an eagle swooped across the air ; phantom Highlanders marched to the sound of the pibroch across the moors, and vanished behind spectral birch-trees. Napoleon, surrounded by battle- smoke, paused to hear 'the voice that was no more.' Millevoye, Lamartine, Charles Nodier, in heroic lays, lyric effusions, and dreamy love-tales, kept alive some faith in the Celtic bard. Ninety years ago he was a hundred times more popular than Homer. In 1773 he was a greater favourite than Shakespeare. Goethe gave him a place in Werther; Herder pressed him upon the German public ; Cesarotti translated him into Italian; Young was outshone. The names of Oscar, Malvina, and Trenmor became current in fiction. Then the crash came ; but not till Jedediah Cleish- botham, too, had enjoyed his hour of popularity, and Walter Scott had pointed out to Augustin Thierry a new way of presenting history, and to Alfred de Vigny a new mode of working historical matter into romance. Indeed, to complete the scope of our subject, we need French and English Literature 2 1 5 not leave Scotland ; for, from Walter Scott's handling of history to history itself there is but a step. At the end of last century, of Britain's greatest historians two were Scots Hume and Robertson ; the third, Gibbon,QfrtL~-p . was hardly English at all. Edinburgh was then rising to the pinnacle of its reputation ; the intellectual atmosphere was suffused with light. The philosophic systems built by the French out of premises laid by Locke, the social and national histories substituted by Montesquieu and Voltaire for chronicles, theretofore mainly military and feudal, appealed strongly to the brilliant wits in Scot- land's capital. The French spirit was so ingrained in James' Court, that Edinburgh ministers with a turn for history could not, without quarrelling with their best work, have disowned their obligations to Voltaire. When Robertson and Hume had written their works, the rare sight was witnessed of their greater popularity in Paris than in London. As Sainte-Beuve words it, Paris was then the centre of the propaganda of thought by literature and declamation. Hume, writing thence, alluded with contempt to ' barbarian ' London, with its brawling political parties. In Paris he was fed on ambrosia, refreshed with nectar, plied with incense, and smothered under flowers. Little did he know what terrible commotions were soon to shake his Elysian hostelry. Hume was introduced to the children of the Dauphin at Versailles. One of the boys, afterwards the unfortunate Louis xvi., a ten-year-old child, spoke of the Scottish philosopher's many friends and admirers 2i6 French Literature in France, and said that he himself had much profited by reading Hume's works. A younger brother (the future king, Louis xvm.) pointed, in his turn, to the great interest with which he was looking forward to reading the same books. At last a third princely scion, who was to be Charles x., and was then four years old, lisped forth in broken fragments his compliments to the amused visitor. What a gentle Arcadia was Paris, in 1763, for the sons of kings and for men of letters ! The part 1 played by Britain in the events conse- quent on the Eevolution was not precisely calculated to conciliate French sympathies ; and the people who, as Heine says, then acted instead of writing their national epic had scant time to give to their own literature, still less to appreciate that of other nations. But it was early in this century, and while the two nations were yet at each other's throats, that the vogue of Ossian was greatest, that Madame de Stael produced her penetrat- ing criticisms of Shakespeare, and that Chateaubriand translated Paradise Lost. The story 'of man's first disobedience,' however, has not permanently appealed to the imagination of a people hardly characterised by a subniissiveness to the powers that be. Milton is now liltle read in France ; he is none the less admired. It is otherwise with Shakespeare. The translations of Letourneur, of Alfred de Vigny, of Monte'gut, of Franqois Victor Hugo, the adaptations of Ducis and of 1 The next four paragraphs of this chapter are due to the pen of Mr, P. NichoL French and English Liter atitre 2 1 7 Dumas phe, do not nearly exhaust the list of render- ings, more or less literal, of the majority of his works. The cult of England's master dramatist by the group of * Eomantics ' is well known ; equal at least to it, as nearer, and therefore coming more home to them, was the influence of the writings of Byron and Scott. Lamartine owed something, certainly not his music, to Byron, whom he admired greatly, and to whom he inscribed a Meditation Pottique. Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris is artistically purified and impassioned Scott. It was of the inspiration that came from Abbotsford that the elder Dumas drank ; the author of Don Juan found fit audience in the author of Holla. De Musset's debt to Byron is often unfairly overcharged, but both writers give the same impression of the poet-dandy. Balzac adored Scott, whose effect on him we may trace in the occasionally tedious descriptions with which he opens most of his stories. Scott also, with Balzac him- self, was one of the few men allowed to have been really great in letters by the eccentric critic Barbey d'Aure'villy. English subjects became common in the drama of this time ; witness De Vigny's Chatterton and the Kean of Dumas pere. We should take care, however, not to exaggerate the spell cast by English or other foreign literature on the French writers of 1830. The Eomantic movement was essentially indigenous, an inevitable literary reaction. It would have gone through a similar evolution, differing only in details, had Shakespeare and Scott, still more had the philosophical playwrights of Germany, never written, 218 French Literature or written in Chinese. The innovators who adopted what they conceived to be British sobriquets, to spite the classical perruques, were but gaily puerile Parisian Bohemians, who, with few exceptions, knew not a word of the English tongue : the only spirit among them who was really ' septentrional ' being the half-crazed poet Ge'rard de Nerval, and his dreamy, moonlit nature held more of Germany than of England. With the waning of the chivalric and extravagant graces of Eomanticism, whose literary ideals, as ideals in other regions, were precipitated to their fall when the nation accepted the Second Empire, Scott and Byron passed out of fashion. But the study of English litera- ture, contemporary and of the past, steadily increased. Sainte-Beuve published his suggestive notices on British authors of the eighteenth century ; Taine gave to the world his original history ; M. Eniile Montegut, in the pages of the Revue des Deux Mondes, began to prove his learned appreciation of our greater and obscurer names ; and the once most eagerly read of English story- tellers now exercised over the French the sway which throughout a life-time he held over the British. Scarcely more than in the Edinburgh or London of to-day is it considered good taste in contemporary Paris to think highly or to speak in praise of Dickens ; but the realistic school of fiction in France owes to his novels none the less a considerable and scantily acknowledged debt. We are bound to believe M. Daudet when he asserts that he had never seen David Copperfield until he had completed his Jack, but there is much throughout French and English Literature 219 Baudot's writings suggestive of Dickens often so decidedly suggestive that it cannot be the result of merely spiritual filiation. It is certain that he, like the other members of the school, is constantly in- debted to certain methods inaugurated by the English novelist. The care spent on the characterisation of secondary personages, the insistence on details of indi- vidual bearing and utterance, the frequency of subject or episode painted from humble life: all these are proper to the French realists, from Flaubert downwards; and it is from Dickens they have borrowed them as much as from their acknowledged master Balzac. They have dropped, of course, the sentimeutalism and the tendency to unnatural incident which some of Dickens's admirers might wish that he also had oftener discarded. FKENCH AS THE OFFICIAL LANGUAGE OF ENGLAND. Until the latter part of the reign of Edward in. all Parliamentary proceedings were conducted in French. Until the reign of Henry vi. the statutes were recorded in French or Latin. Since the reign of Henry vu. all proceedings, including statutes, have been in English, with the exception of the forms by which a bill is transmitted and the Royal assent is given or withheld. These forms are still used, and are: 1. Assent to (a) a money bill by the words, ' La reyne remercie ses bons sujets, accepte leur benevolence, et ainsi leveult'; (b) an ordinary public bill by the words, ' La reyne le veult ' ; (c) a private bill by the words, ' Soit fait comme il est de'sireV 2. Refusal of assent by the words, ' La 220 French Literature reyne s'avisera' (last exercised in 1707). 3. Indorse- ment (ft) that bill is passed by the Commons, ' Soit baill^ aux seigneurs ' ; (b) that it is returned by Lords amended, ' A ceste Mile avesque dcs amendemens les seigneurs sont assentus ' ; (c) that the Commons agree to Lords' amendments, ' A ces amendemens les communes sont asseutus,' and, similarly, when a bill first passed in Lords was sent to Commons. As to courts of justice, it was not till 1731 (4 Geo. II. cap. 26) that an Act was passed providing that proceedings in courts of justice should be con- ducted in English. From the Conquest until Edward III., all pleadings were written, and usually the arguments and decisions proceeded, in Norman law French. Ed- ward enacted (36 Edw. in. cap. 15) that cases should be debated and judged in English, but that the records should be kept in Latin. Accordingly, from that time until 1731 except during Cromwell's Protectorate the records of the courts were kept in law Latin. But, notwithstanding Edward's statute, Norman law French continued to be used in the year-books or official reports of the judges' decisions, and in the private reports of decisions kept by the judges or counsel, after- wards published. The year-books end in the time of Henry vm. But the Norman law French continued to be used in reports until Cromwell's time, though mixed with English. For instance, Rolle (1589-1658), one of the best reporters, says : ' Haught semble a disallouer ceo, car il shake son capit.' In reporting another case he has: French and English Literatiire 221 ' Horn dit " Holt hath taken a cleaver and stricken his cook upon the head " ; et ne averr que le cook fuit mort : et pur ceo fuit adjudge nemy bon.' Or from Moore's Reports we may quote a case in 1604 at Newgate : ' Le case fuit que en home et se feme ayant longe temps vive* incontinent ensemble . . . le home dit al feme que il fuit weary de son vie et que il voiloit luymeme occider: & que la feme ditquedonques elle voilait aussi moryer ave lui : per que le home praya la feme que elle voilait vaer et acheter Rates-bane : et ils voilont ceo biber ensemble : le quel il fist : et el ceo mist en le drink et ils bibent ceo. Mes la feme apres prist sallet oyle : per que el vomit et fuit recov' mes le home morust. Et le question fuit si ceo fuit murther en la feme. . Mountague Recorder cause 1'espe'cial matter d'etre trouve*. 1 Quaere le resolution.' 1 There are no orthographical accents in the original. FRENCH LANGUAGE CHAPTER X. THE OLD FRENCH LANGUAGE, ORIGIN, DIALECTS, EARLY DOCUMENTS. OLD FRENCH can be divided into three successive periods: the Period of Formation, the Flourishing Period, and the Period of Decay. The first is contemporaneous with the earliest middle ages, and its origin can be traced back to the conquest of Gaul by Rome. When the Roman Republic was still in existence, the Lingua Eomana of its soldiers, merchants, and colonists came into contact with the Celtic dialects of Gaul. The campaigns of Julius Caesar can be considered as the first link in the chain of historical events which were to bring about the formation of a French language. The Lingua Romana became the prevalent speech of the language-making classes of Gaul, Celtiberia, and Italy (to say nothing of its lesser homes by right of conquest), though the invasion of the Barbarians brought into play a new linguistic factor. Before the fourth century A.D., Celtic had been overpowered by its invader and driven to 222 The Old French Language 223 out-of-the-way districts; Latin, the literary dialect of Cicero, was written, but little spoken out of the governing and educated caste ; it was a class -language. The Lingua Romano, had already altered in different areas of the vast territories it had spread over. It was assuming local peculiarities which foreshadowed its breaking up into different dialects, when the Teutonic element burst upon the scenes, and acted as an ulti- mate dissolvent. From that day the processes of decay, which till then might be considered as modifications within the Lingua Romana, assumed a regenerative character, and became the starting-point of a new language. A Germanic tribe, the leading military and political agent in the plains of Northern Gaul, has had the honour of seeing its name affixed to the language. This Germanic title has by no means affected the language itself. Teutonic influences can be traced in goodly number in the vocabulary, in the phonetics, and in the etymology of Old French; Latin words, for instance, have been presented with meanings after the analogy of Teutonic corresponding terms. But the grammatical framework of the language, and its syntax, which developed only in the latter stage of Old French, are wholly and absolutely Latin in origin and Latin in spirit. It is impossible, for want of documentary evidence, to say whether a period of absolute linguistic decompo- sition ushered in the formative period of Old French. It seems, however, reasonable to believe that at no 224 French Language time between 395 and 842, the date of the first Old French document history knows of, the destructive process obtained the upper hand over the constructive one. It is evident, from the way in which it spread over so many peoples and lands so distant, that the Lingua Romana Rustica contained a principle of ex- ceptional vitality, which was sufficiently strong to maintain its supremacy in spite of the heavy odds arrayed against it in consequence of the breakdown of the Empire. It regulated its own decay, it absorbed what it could not reject, it upheld the high standard of linguistic efficiency which distinguishes the Indo- European races. It is also clear from the character of the first literary documents in Old French, and from the wealth and spontaneousness of its literature, that a fair amount of popular culture was extant among the classes of society in which language has its centre and whence it borrows its leverage. There was in the fresh dud vivid imagination of the people an abundant supply of language-producing power. Unfettered by the weight of classical Latin, with its stereotyped forms and literature, this power preserved its elasticity, had free play, and bore fruits. Those fruits, in Gaul as else- where, ran into types ; dialects, whose primary causes are obscure, were formed. In the valleys of the Rhone and of the Garonne, in the whole country verging to- wards the Mediterranean and the Bay of Biscay, from the mountains of Auvergne southwards, Early French was not French : it inclined towards the Italian and the Spanish modifications of Romance on which it bordered. The Old French Language 225 These southern dialects, known under the collective name of ' Langue d'Oc,' fell out of the race for existence when a centre of political and military power showed itself to be placed in the Frankish portion of France, near enough for the absorption of the Mediterranean border into the circle over which it radiated. What in the Langue d'Oc had affinities with the Langue d'O'il strengthened the northern invader by as much against its southern neighbour. Political troubles and military invasion deprived the southern speech of its national significance ; it lost its literary standing and died out as a body of language. Nowadays 'Provencal' is on the one hand a 'patois' on the other a study for liter- ary antiquarians and philologists. Its adversary, the Langue d'O'il, has had a triumphant career. It has become one of the very foremost culture-languages of Europe. Geographically, to it belonged the valleys of the Saone, the Loire, the Seine, the Scheldt, and the Meuse. Scholars recognise four dialects in it. These divisions are well marked in the central middle ages. In the earlier and in the latter, from confusion in one case, from obliteration in the other, they are less distinguishable. They are more con- venient in a classification than exhaustive from a philo- logical point of view. For all round the area strictly belonging to these dialects, north of them in Belgium, and far east in Romance Switzerland, also within their respective provinces, there existed not only local forms but whole dialects that are distinguishable from any of the four leading ones. p 226 French Language A process of natural selection took place among the dialects of the Languc d'Oil. The one at the centre of political power came out victorious. It is likely that, linguistically, it was the most worthy of a supremacy which was really obtained by agencies of the political order. The other dialects were by degrees incorporated, for all the northern dialects had much in common. Their extinction was an absorption rather than a de- struction. As for their literature, it died a natural death when talent ceased to use them as a channel for literary expression. By the time the conquering dialect had laid down Old French characteristics, the centralisation of literature in its hand was completely effected. Arrested in their development, the defeated dialects sank to the rank of patois. The most western of the four was that of Normandy (we should say that of Neustria, for the name of Norman is a misnomer as applied to an essentially Gallo-Roman dialect). Submitted to direct Scandinavian influence by the invasion of the Norsemen, it resisted stoutly foreign contamination : so stoutly, that when the Normans in- vaded England they imported the language of France instead of their own, long since forgotten. That they were in reality only a numerically weak Teutonic colony in a mass of Gallic people is shown by the slight mark they have put on their adoptive speech, and by the sur- prising ease with which they brought, as their own, to their Saxon brethren in England, a Komanic dialect. The vowel-sounds alone of Norman French show traces of having been shaped by strange throats. And even that characteristic is not purely Norman. It is a lead- The Old French Language 227 ing feature of Old French that it developed the vowel system of Latin at the expense of its consonantal sys- tem. That development is the more striking in proportion as the locality of change becomes a more northern one, and points to the presence of Teutonic undercurrents among the influences affecting French phonetic rules. When the Norman dialect crossed the Channel with William the Conqueror's standards, it fell under Anglo-Saxon influence. It developed then into what has been called ' Anglo-Norman,' while Norman proper lost its identity in that of French. Norman literature was great, and of a strikingly epic character. The language was Romanic, but the strain of imagination was partly of the Scandinavian type. It was cultivated both in its Continental home and at the Court of the Kings of England. Norman French differs from its fellow-dialects by some peculiarities which do not affect the material of speech, but only its outward shape. U takes the place of ou, eu, oi, and sometimes of a. The most frequent substitute, however, for oi is ei. This ei, spelt in modern French ai, has driven out of use the Burgundian sound oi, long preferred by French for the endings of verbs and for some nouns, and still noted as oi in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. This is an instance of the many reactions of the doomed dialects upon their conqueror. Besides its orthodox diphthong ei in three conjugations, Norman has in the imperfect of the first conjugation the sound ou : saying, as Littre* points out, je cuidoue or je cuidoe (je croyais in modern French), while Old French said/0 cuidoie. Norman disliked the contact ie in endings, a 228 French Language favourite one in Old French, and thinned it to a mere t. The area occupied by this dialect and its sub- dialects is far more extended than its name implies. Prom La Rochelle on the ocean, right across the Loire and the Seine, to the English Channel and Picardy, with the exception of Celtic Brittany, proofs have been found of the undisputed supremacy of Norman French. Its northern neighbour is the dialect of Picardy. Tn what is now Belgium, it bordered on Walloon, Flemish, and Dutch. On its southern side Burgundian and Norman gave it a sufficiently definite boundary-line. Its main dialectical features are a preference for hard consonantal sounds and the persistence in pronuncia- tion of the diphthong oi. It uses hnd c and k rather than soft c or ch, a guttural g and ch instead of the sibilant s. A Neo-Latin ending icmes in the first per- son plural of the imperfect was superseded by the generic Old French contraction ions, or iuns (Norman). The Burgundian dialect was the main dialect in the Langue d'O'il ; it was so closely bound up with the fourth dialect, the one spoken in Paris and the country round it, that some scholars have merged them together into one. It touched on the east the Germanic dis- tricts of the Vosges, entered into contact in the south with the Langue d'Oc, and was separated from Norman French in the wesfc by the dialect of lie de France. Out of France proper, with all due allowance for marked local peculiarities, it occupied Romance Switzerland and Savoy jointly with the Langue d'Oc. 229 Though French Switzerland is geographically distinct from Burgundy proper, and escaped on the whole French political influence and interference, it was in its best mediaeval days well within the scope of Burgundian literary and social life. Burgundian shows its linguistic individuality by the addition of an i to a in any part of a word and to a sounded e. It exchanges also nasal n for guttural g, and uses ch in words where Picard has hard c or k. It has a past definite of first conjugation in : ai, ais, ait, the diphthong oi in the imperfect (oie, oies, oit) suc- ceeding an early Neo-Latin form in eve, eves, evet (Latin abam, abas, abat). A third person plural of past definite in arent, Neo-Latin also, gave way to the later form erent, but it was taken up again by Kabelais in the sixteenth century. The fourth and last dialect among the leading sub- divisions of the Langue d'Oil was the dialect of He de France that is, of Paris and the province of which Paris was the capital. It may be called Francic, by a convenient misappropriation of terms, justified by the accepted, though equally faulty, expression Norman French. This dialect is open to the accusation of being a conception of Old French students rather than a tangible reality. He de France is the meeting-place of the three dialects above mentioned, rather than the cradle of an aggressive and sharply defined speech. It was a centre of assimilation and compromise, having in common with all dialects of the Langue d'Oil the same substratum, and making its own the borrowings it 230 French Language gathered from west, north, and east. It was, so to say, neutral, and attained to excellence by the subservience of all. It can hardly be said that, either in literature or in its phonology and morphology, it has any single feature that it does not hold in common with one or other of its neighbours. The instrument of its might did not reside in its literature, or in its linguistic aptness. As said before, the reasons of its gradual spread over France were of the political order. These began to take effect in 987, when Hugh Capet, Count of He de France, became King of France. The gradual formation, before the year 1200, of the Uni- versity of Paris gave the colouring of legitimacy to the claim of Parisian French to be paramount in letters. The work of unification was not complete in literature at the close of the middle ages, when Old French turned into Modern French. Nevertheless, so rapid was the gravitation setting towards Paris under the Capetian Kings, that the expression ' Old French ' on the whole applies to the speech of He de France. On looking back upon the dialects thus rapidly re- viewed, one is struck by the comparative insignificance of their differences. This reveals the powerful Romance unity underlying them. It points also to the difficul- ties still affecting Old French studies. It is by no means easy to establish distinctions between the dialects, owing to dearth of early documents, owing to the utter confusion in the alphabetical notation of sounds in manuscripts, and owing to the action and reaction, exchanges and combinations from dialect to The Old French Language 231 dialect and from century to century. Dialects and local literature are still an open question ; but where the firm foothold of science begins is in the study of the oral forms deposited in the mediaeval national literature of France. The outburst of literary produc- tion coincides with what is, philologically speaking, the ' flourishing period of Old French.' Old French was before all things a spoken language. It has the features of a language that is more spoken than written. It was formed in a happy unconscious- ness of grammar, in a fortunate ignorance of the fact that each Latin form, which gave birth to a correspond- ing Old French form, was once part of a systematic whole, of a linguistic scheme reducible to declension, conjugation, and syntax. That is why, from a philo- logical standpoint, it can be called a pure speech, a natural product of the phonetic influences at work in the areas where it arose influences which have been generalised into rules and codified by philologists. That is also why, now that Old French is extinct, now that its sounds can no longer be perceived by the ear, the work of reconstituting it as spoken, from the imperfect MSS., is attended both by failures and unexpected suc- cesses. For instance, Modern French is full of blended diphthongal sounds and silent letters. A reader's first impulse is to introduce these diphthongs and silent notations into his perusal of old texts. But a closer inspection of texts and some acquaintance with the metric necessities of verse show that such diphthongs are generally two distinct vowel-sounds which have 232 French Language become conterminous by the loss of a Latin consonant. Also, the consonants that are noted are sounded, and many which appear in Modern French have been intro- duced into it by a false analogy with literary Latin, regardless of Old French precedents ; for instance, the modern Z> in alsoudre and abstenir is of learned intro- duction, the old forms being written and pronounced asoudre and astenir. The diphthong ai, now sounded like e or like 6, consisted in the early stages of Old French of two sounds. ' Chretien ' had three syllables, and chapeau also. Moreover, from our point of view, the sound and the sign appear not to correspond. For instance, the sound eu before an x is usually noted as ex, which is misleading to us ; so are puet, standing for the Modern sound peut, and the vowel u, which has often in Old French spelling its Latin value, represented in Modern French by ou. No uniform orthographical system was devised in the middle ages. Now that Old French studies have so much gained in popularity and trustworthiness, it will be the task of scholars to agree on a consistent ortho- graphy, if it can be done without unduly assimilating to one type the diversities in pronunciation at different times and in different places. There could be no absolute standard of right and wrong in the graphic notation of a language still engaged in the process of generalising its phonetic laws. Pronunciation varied remarkably between the ninth and sixteenth centuries. Another stumbling-block is looseness in the construc- tion of the Old French sentence. Like Homer, it has The Old French L anguage 233 what we should call superfluous particles ; aud, on the other hand, it leaves relations often unexpressed. While we express every shade of syntax in the struc- ture of our clauses, Old French left much to the voice, tone, and gesture; less so, however, in its later periods than in its earlier ones. Furthermore, the wealth of words in Old French is perplexing ; they are much more numerous than one could expect, and their meanings are somewhat uncertain not only subject to alterations in the course of time, but to local applica- tions of a confusing character, to say nothing of the idiosyncrasies of the individual writer. Such a plentiful word-supply has hitherto made it impossible to publish a final dictionary of Old French ; even against many of the words collected, notes of interrogation must be allowed to stand. The flourishing period of Old French was reached when it had evolved fully its ' half-synthetic system ' in the twelfth century. A stupendous mass of literature was then brought forth. Some exposition of the half- synthetic system will be found in the grammatical part of this book. Suffice it to say at present that a work- able declension (at first three declensions) with two cases, a complete conjugation, and a correct syntax gave a linguistic organisation expansive and elastic enough to meet all the wants of the age. But not only was intelligible speaking made easy : artistic composi- tion was also provided for. For two centuries Medi- aeval French was the polite language of Europe, more so than Modern French is ; for the Old language had 234 French Language no rivalry to fear from its still shapeless fellow-languages of the Eoman stock. Provencal alone, earlier mature than French, entered the lists against it for a while. But the half-synthetic system had no finality in it- self. It stood, so to say, on the furthest outside edge of the synthetic system of language ; insufficient allowance was made in it for wear and tear in the forms of lan- guage. The elements of analysis it contained took the upper hand; the synthetic machinery lost the subtle flexional distinctions on which it rested. Then the days of Modern French began to dawn. A period of linguistic decay set in; literature, purely spontaneous and popular, unsupported by the props of an artificial school-culture, shared the fate of the lan- guage. Italian and Spanish burst forth in the literary sky of Europe, while French lost its eminence. It lost its cases, it thinned down its vowel-system, it sifted its vocabulary, it defined more closely the meaning of its words, it absorbed a great many terms directly from classical Latin ; to its stores of words expressing feeling and action it added those expressive of reflection and thought ; it lost or divorced in meaning its double forms derived from some Latin words of the third declension. But in two points it remained synthetic : it preserved the system of verb inflections of Old French, and its in- flected personal pronouns, with a few phonetic altera- tions. This transformation dates from the fourteenth century. It was complete in the sixteenth. Hence- forth French took a new departure, and entered upon its modern course. The Old French Language 235 There is in the Old language a main distinction to be made between the early dialects and the later literary speech. In the former, the distinction between Langue dO'il and Langue d'Oc is only faintly drawn. Latin is, then, a nearer analogy than Modern French ; and the literary monuments, invaluable as links in the breach, are insignificant in other respects. The very earliest written monuments are the Cassel Glossary and the Glossary of Reichenau. They both be- long to the eighth century. The first is a collection of words in Eomance, with their translation into High German, and arranged into chapters according to their meaning. The first chapter deals with the names of the human body and its parts, the second with domestic animals, the third with housekeeping, the fourth with clothing, the fifth with household articles, the sixth with miscellaneous words, the seventh with connected expressions. Its authorship is unknown, and the mode of its composition is disputed. As for the Glossary of Reichenau, it consists of two parts. In the first we have glosses interpreting in Eomance portions of the Latin text of the Vulgate. In the second we find, in alphabetical order, words taken from all departments of thought, without refer- ence to any particular text. The author's aim was obviously to facilitate the reading of the Bible to priests who were bad scholars. But instead of giving in the Lingua, Romano, of the day the equivalent of the classical Latin words he wished to explain, he put classical suffixes to the Eomance stems. This shows 236 French Language with what misgivings Latinists of the eighth century looked upon the future of the Romance dialects. We pick here and there glosses in which the Romance is at once distinguishable in its pseudo-Latin garb : Latin. Romance. Modern French. femur coxa cuisse (in) cartallo (in) panario (dans le) panier sarcina bisatia besace onerati carcati charges rerum causarum (des) choses pallium drappum drap arundine ros roseait gratia merces merci mutuare impruntare emprunter pruina gelata gele"e caseum formaticum fromage galea holm us heaume novacula rasorium rasoir oves berbices brebis rostrum beccus bee sortileus sorcerus sorcier tugnrinm cavaiia cabane vespertiliones calves sorices chauves-souris viscera intralia entrailles seniel una vice une fois segetea messes moisson reus culpabilis coupable litus ripa rive pueros infantes enfants in foro in mercato (au) march & regit gubernat (il) gouverne Next to the Cassel Glossary, and to that of Reichenau, in chronological order, and far above them in order of importance, stand the Strasburg Oaths of 842. The chronicler says that on the sixteenth day before the Calends of March, Ludwig the German and Charles the Bald met in the town of Strassburg, and swore the The Old French Language 237 following oath, Lewis in the Romance, Charles in the German language : 'Pro deo amur et pro Christian poblo et nostro commun salvament, d'ist di in avant, in quant deus savir et podir me dunat, si salvarai eo cist meoii fradre Karlo et in aiudha er in cadhuna cosa, si cum om per dreit SOR fradra salvar dift, in o quid il mi altresi fazet, et ab Ludher nul plaid nunqua prindrai, qui meon vol cist meon fradre Karle in damno sit.' When the kings had thus pledged their faith to each other, the followers of each bound themselves to enforce the oath as follows : ' Si Lodhuvigs sagrament, que son fradre Karlo jurat, conservat, et Karlus meos sendra de sue part lo franit, si io returnar non Tint pois, ne io ne neiils, cui eo returnar hit pois, in nulla aiudha contra Lodhuwig nun li iv er.' The Oaths have reached us in genuine ninth century Eomance. We shall now imitate the author of the Glossary of Reichenau, and affix to the Romance stems the classical flexions : Lingua Romana : 1. 'Pro Dei a more et pro chris- tiani popli et nostro communi salvameuto, de isto die in abante, in quanto Deus sapire et podire mi donat, sic salvare habeo (salvabo) ecce istum meum fratrem Kar- lum, et in adjutu ero in qua una causa, sic cum homo per drictum suum fratrem salvare debet, in eo quid ille mihi alteris sic faciat, et apud Lotharium nullum placi- 238 French Language turn numquam prehendere habeo quod, mea voluntate, ecce isti meo fratri Karlo in damno sit.' 2. ' Si Ludovicus sacramentum quod suo fratri Karlo juravit, conservat, et Karlus, meus senior, de sua parte illud frangit, si ego retornare non ilium inde possum, nee ego nee nullus quern ego retornare (avertere) inde possum, in nullo adjuto contra Ludovicum non illi ibi ero.' The equivalent in Old French of the later centuries, in which the bulk of Old French literature is written, would be : 1. 'Pordeu amor et por christien peuple et nostre commuu sauvement, de cest jorn en avant, en cant dex saver et pooir me doin, si salverai jo cest mon freire Karle et en a'ie serai en chascune cose, si com on par droit son freire salver deit, en ceu ke il me autresi faice, et ot Luther nul plaid onque prindrai, qui mon voil cestui mon freire en danz seit.' 2. ' Si Ludovics le sairement, que a son freire Karle juret, conservet, et Karles mis sire de seie part le fraint, se jo retoruer non Tent pois, ne jo ne mils ki jo retoruer ent pois, en nulle aie cuntre Ludovic li i serai.' In the second fragment we have introduced the de- finite article and the preposition a. The appearance of this Old French ' pastiche ' could be varied almost ad infinitum by adopting some other of the numerous spellings of the words composing it. It is interesting to roughly divide the words of the Oaths into three classes. We have a few words which have not even become The Old French Language 239 accepted Old French words of the literary period. They are the dying gasp of latinity. Then there are a few other words which have not passed from Old French into Modern French. About a dozen words are of quite unclassical origin, being altogether from the Lingua Romano, or from Low Latin. The larger number are of unimpeachable latinity in their stems. In the same way we may like to see in what propor- tion syntheticism stands to analysis in the Oaths. The former is quite paramount. ' Case ' makes itself felt in every line ; suffixes are shorn off, but prepositions in their stead are wholly unrepresented ; the article is not forthcoming ; the subj. personal pronoun alone is freely used for emphasis. In Modern French the Oaths read as follows : 1. ' Pour 1'amour de Dieu et pour le salut du peuple chre'tien, et notre commun salut, de ce jour en avant, autant que Dieu me donne savoir et pouvoir, je sauverai mon frere Charles et en aide serai en chaque chose (ainsi qu'on doit, selon la justice, sauver son frere), a condition qu'il en fasse autant pour moi, et je ne ferai avec Lothaire aueun accord qui, par ma volonte', porte prejudice & mon frere Charles ici present.' 2. ' Si Louis garde le serment qu'il a jure" a son frere Charles, et que Charles mon maitre de son cote* le viole, si je ne Ten puis de'tourner, ni moi, ni nul que j'en puis de'tourner, ne lui serons en aide contre Louis.' It is not our intention to study so closely as the Oaths the documents we still have to review in the 240 French Language class which philologists call the Pre-Old French, 01 Neo-Latin, or Romance class. The two fragments we are now going to study belong to the tenth century ; we have nothing so ancient in the Langue d'(M, whose characteristics are plainly visible in them, whilst the language of the Oaths occupies an undefined position antecedent to both Langue dOc and Langue d'O'il. We may therefore say that the fragments now under consideration are written in an archaic dialect : of Old French of an intermediate character. Latin analogy in them has not yet fully given way to that recasting of it which we must call French analogy ; and it is from the combination of the two that the fragments derive their interest. The one of the fragments known as the Chant d'Eul'alie, or as the Cantilene de Ste Eulalie, is written in verse. It is very short, consisting of no more than twenty- nine lines. The other is less important : it is a pulpit amplification on the prophet Jonah. It is called the Fragment de Valenciennes, and presents a text broken at almost regular intervals by whole sentences in Latin. Both monuments are of decidedly northern penmanship. The substitution everywhere in the Chant d'Eidalie of diphthong ei for oi shows this hymn to have been written in the western dominions of the Langue d'G'il. It affords scope for studies of verse and of metre, as well as of comparative grammar. There is a little more 'analysis' than in the Oaths: the indefinite article appears once, the definite is frequent, the prepositions The Old French Language 241 de and a are used and subjective personal pronouns are freely placed before verbs. In tenses and moods Latin etymology still reigns supreme. There is yet no inde- pendent body of French analogy. Our next fragment is in no respect more typically French than Eulalia's canticle. If anything, it is the reverse, for the Komance text is not continuous. The monkish writer breaks away into more familiar Latin at every moment, and, what is worse, gaps in the sense are not rare, and hopelessly damaged passages remain insolvable. Of the early documents of the pre-literary period yet to be examined, two can be neglected here ; the one is known under the name of Sponsus, the other is the Epitre de St Etienne. Of much greater importance are the Passion du Christ and the Vie de St L6ger. The Passion du Christ, the first in date of the numer- ous Old French amplifications on this subject, is a poem containing 516 lines. It is remarkable for a dash of Langue d'Oc or ProvenQal in its language, and therefore cannot be offered as a pure sample of the Langue d'Oil in the tenth century. Synthetic forms derived from the Latin pluperfect occur several times : vidra is from viderat, voldrat is from voluerat veggra ,, ,, venerat, fedre ,, fecerat fura, fure ,, fuerat agre ,, ,, habuerat. These are not the only Latinisms. Such occur re- peatedly in the flexions and in the interior phonetics of Q 242 French Language words. As for the metre in which this fragment of a sacred epic is written, it is the eight-syllabled line. As the poem was meant to be sung, the requirements of music helped to insure the regularity of the metre. Within each stanza the full compass of the melody was developed, and the repetition of it in every set of four lines gave to the poem the monotony appertaining to Church Lyrics. The Vie de St Lfyer, with the mention of which we close our study of the monuments of the pre-literary period, consists of some 240 lines in the same eight- syllabled metre, divided into stanzas of six lines each. It gives an account of the life, merits, and death of St. Leodegar, whose martyrdom appealed to the devotional feeling of ecclesiastic poets. But it does not appear that he was a privileged object of their respect ; for, says the unknown romancer, ' as we have to praise the Lord God and to do honour to his saints, we sing of the saints who for his sake underwent heavy trials, and the time has come for us to sing of St. Leodegar.' The fragment that has reached us is therefore a single portrait from an otherwise lost gallery. It stands chronologically too near the Passion du Christ to mark a distinct step in the development of the French language. 1 1 For detailed information on the Old French language see An Introduc- tion to Old French, by F. F. Roget (Williams and Norgate). For the phonetics of Old French and its grammatical forms see Gram- matik des Altfranzosischen, by Dr. Eduard Schwan. Mr. Gaston Paris has as yet published only the first volume of his proposed Manuel d'anrienfranqais. The second, third, and fourth vol- umes are to deal with the language and to contain, with a lexicon, frag- ments of the literature. CHAPTER XL THE LINGUA KOMANA IN GAUL AT THE TIME OF THE FilANKISH INVASION. 1 IT can be safely said that after the first Panic war (241 B.C.) unity of speech was broken in the Latin lan- guage. The Archaic Latin, alone in use down to that time, divided itself into two branches the one, the lit- erary language written and spoken by the higher classes and which came under a strict Greek schooling ; the other, the speech of the masses, which was a direct development of Archaic Latin, and which followed courses diverging more and more from the classical Latin known to us, as the centuries sped by. This popular speech was, above all things, a living and changing one. Yet its evolution obeyed certain fixed general laws, which can be traced in almost all parts of the Roman Empire, and which formed the common ground for the evolution of the modern languages of the Roman type. When the information we can get from different sources about the differences distinguishing the Lingua Romana from the classical tongue is put together, the following picture can be drawn of it at the time when the inva- 1 The authority adhered to most closely in writing this chapter is Grnnvmatik ties Alt/ranzosischen, by Dr. Eduard Schwan. 243 244 French Language sion of the Teutonic tribes, and more especially of the Franks, determined its further development into Old French and thence into Modern French. 1. The Lingua Romana did not divide its vowel sounds into long ones and short ones, as classical Latin came to do under the influence of Greek prosody. In popular verse the absolute quantity of the vowels was not taken into account, but only their position before one or two consonants as the case might be, and their relation to the primary and secondary tonic accents in connected utterance. The consequence of this was a modification in rhythm which led to the introduction of rhyming measures, and which resulted in the building up of a prosody in French, in which the length of the vowels goes for nothing, and in which the tonic r.cceut plays an important part in securing the harmony of the line. 2. The failure of the Lingua Eomana to distinguish absolutely between long and short vowel sounds was a consequence of the comparatively weak intonation of these sounds. A larger number of monophthongs and diphthongs belongs to the literary Latin in which Horace and Virgil wrote than to the dialect of the people. For instance, the classical words, coepa, poena, mittere,fidem, firmum, Inhere, pilum, in, were all pronounced almost alike in Romance, so far as the vowel sounds of the first syllable are concerned, this sound being approx- imately that of ^in modern French. 3. The vowel bearing the tonic accent, when it stood immediately before i, o, u, was fused with it into a The Lingiia Romano, in Gaul 245 diphthong. Cui,fui, deu, meic, dub stood for the classical forms cu-i,fu-i, de-um, me-um, du-o. The proximity of an accented vowel to an i might result from the drop- ping out of the consonant between the two vowels. To classical Latin, ama'vi, 1 would correspond ama'-i, and later amdi', the late Eomance and early French for what is nowfaimai. 4. Like vowels clashing in the body of a word were drawn together into one, as in prendre from classical prehendere ; such vowels became long by position with- out any reference to the metrical value that would have been theirs in a classical line, but simply as a work- ing of the consonantal sounds between which they were set. 5. i within a word dropped out before an e accented in popular Latin ; but, if any other vowel than i pre- ceded the accented e, the e fell out, so that on the one side, the Eomance accusative pare'te came to stand for parie'te (cl. pari'etem} ; while on the other side Eomance fue'sti instead of classical fUi'sti (in which the accent is on the i and in which the u forms a sound of its own) became fu'sti? 6. The Latin law of accent is well known. Words whose last syllable but one is long have the accent on that syllable; while words whose last syllable but one is short have the accent on the third syllable from the 1 The sign ' after a vowel indicates the tonic accent. 2 There is the same shifting of the accent in f locave'runt, - _ ( lo(c)a'erunt ~ > Eom ' ' Fr ' 246 French Language end. In words belonging to this last class, the short vowel following immediately the accented syllable was thrown out. In Eomance, o'clu stood in the accusative instead of the classical o'o&lum. 7. The i or the e standing immediately before another vowel, either o, u, or a, lost its value as a vowel and had a consonantal j sound, thereby cutting a syllable out of the word. Three-syllabled facio became two- syllabled falcjo. This substitution of the sounds Icj for the sounds Td reacted upon the intonation of the pre- ceding vowel a. 8. When the i thus replaced by j bore the tonic accent, this was perforce thrown back on the preceding syllable. For instance, the classical Latin trifo'lium became in French trifle with the tonic accent on the first syllable by the working of that law. 9. But if the ^'substituted for i was followed by a suffix, such as the diminutive suffix -tflus, the accent instead of retreating advanced to the next syllable. Classical fili'olum corresponds thereby to French filleii'l. Eomance intermediate forms : tre'flju, filjo'lu. 10. The u standing immediately before a vowel took the sound v, classical m'dita is in French veuve through the intermediate Eomance ve'dva ; but the v drops out when a group of consonants difficult to pronounce would result from its maintenance. When the u changed to v bore the accent, this was thrown back to the pre- ceding syllable. Classical consu'ere is in French coudre through the intermediate Eomance co'svere. 11. On the whole the tonic accent stood on the same The Lingua Romano, in Gaul 247 syllable as in literary Latin ; but short vowels followed by such consonantal groups as gr, dr, br always bore the accent in Romance, so that French entie'r came to be accented differently from classical Latin i'ntegrum. 12. In the third person plural of the perfect in some primary verbs, analogy with so-called secondary verbs brought about the throwing back of the accent on the stem instead of its falling on the long penulti- mate as in classical Latin. In that way French fu'rent does not correspond to classical fue'runt because the Eomance form w&sfo'runt. 13. A counted for little or nothing. Eomance onorc is the classical honorem, 14. Final m was deadened, as visible already in classical metric. Eom. a'nma for classical a'nimam. Only monosyllabic words kept final m. French mon, ton, son are related to classical meum, tuum,suum, through Eom. mem, tvom, svom. Final s and final t were pronounced. 15. n was dropped before s, and the preceding vowel, already long by position, remained so in compensation for the disappearance of the n. French pese'r, from classical pensa're, through Eom. peso! re. 16. k and kr were liable to be corrupted into g and gr\ while b and v were interchangeable. Of. French gonfler with classical conftare, and French brebis with classical vervecem. 17. The placing, with a view to ease in pronunciation, of an i or e before an initial s, followed by a con- sonant, was early practised in the Lingua Eomana. Espa'ta, French 6p6e, stood for classical spa'tham. 248 French Language 18. Romance preserved only two out of the six cases of literary Latin, namely, the nominative or case of the subject, and the accusative or case of the object. The relations expressed by the genitive, dative, and ablative were given effect to by prepositions. The preposition de took the place of the genitive suffix and the preposi- tion ad took the place of the dative suffix. This was brought about by the gradual wearing down of the distinct suffixes till they became undistinguishable, and also by a preference given to analytical modes of expres- sion over synthetical. 19. The number of declensions was reduced from five to three, corresponding on the whole to the first, second, and third classical declensions. The words belonging to the fourth and fifth were absorbed into the first, second, and third. 20. All Romance languages have the definite article, and the indefinite article. This shows that ille and units were very early taken away from their original function, which the former could no longer fill without the prefixing of ecce. 21. The Romance dispensed almost altogether with the neuter gender of classical Latin. Some neuter nouns, by the working of the nearest analogy became masculine, and others feminine. 22. The comparative and the superlative in adjectives and adverbs were no longer expressed by suffixes, but with the assistance of intensive adverbs, such as plus. There were a few exceptions. 23. The particle ecce was placed before the demon- The Lingua Romano, in Gaul 249 strative pronouns of classical Latin to restore their wasted demonstrative force. 24. The synthetic passive voice was not used. The past participle of notional verbs, with esse reduced to the function of an auxiliary, was used instead. De- ponent verbs were assimilated to active verbs. 25. The present, the perfect, the imperfect, and the pluperfect were the only synthetic tenses in use. Instead of the future stood the infinitive of the verb, with habere as an auxiliary. 26. The supine, the participle future, the perfect and imperfect of the subjunctive all disappeared. 27. The general framework of the four conjugations was kept, but several verbs passed from one conjuga- tion into another. For instance, cl. ca'dere was in Eomance cade're ; hence Old French, cheo'ir with the accent on the last syllable ; cl. ride re was in Romance ri'dere, hence Fr. ri're, with the accent on the first syllable ; cl. reci'pere, became reJcepe're, hence recevoir. 28. In composition, words preserved the accent on the root instead of throwing it back on the preposition, as in classical Latin. In consequence, the root syllable preserved its full original sound. There were, how- ever, many exceptions to this general practice. 29. The suffixes in use in literary Latin were re- placed by others closely related : -erius stood for classical -arius ; -ctilus stood for cl. -tulus ; -uminem for classical -udinem ; and -uta for -uca. 30. Monosyllabic classical words, and generally those which are short, and in which the stem is very 250 French Language prominent, were often lengthened by the addition of a diminutive suffix. For instance, Fr. solei'l is traced back to classical sol through Eom. sole'clu (for soli'cu- lum). In the same way, instead of the original root verbs, fresh ones were formed from derivatives. French aiguise'r is connected with cl. acu'ere through Kom. acutiare (from acu'tus). 31. The Eomance was not content with developing the archaic stock of words which it held in common with the classical dialect. It coined words of its own and it borrowed words from Greek, Celtic, and Germanic sources. 32. The secondary accent of Archaic Latin was pre- served. Its place depended upon that of the principal or primary accent. It stood on the syllable immedi- ately preceding the principal accent, when that syllable was long, and the first in the word, as in ca'nt'are. It stood on the syllable next but one to the principal accent, counting backwards, when that syllable was long, as in lenedl'ctio'ne. It stood on the syllable next but two to the principal accent when the syllable next but one was short, as in do'm/inice'lla. Modern French, too, has primary and secondary accents. CHAPTER XTI. 1 HISTORICAL GRAMMAR, THE NOUN, ETC. THE ALPHABET. The letter k is not sounded in modern French. The so-called aspirate h has no aspiration ; this name meaning now that the last con- sonant of the preceding word is not to be joined in pro- nunciation on to the vowel following the h, and that an e mute preceding this h is never elided. The aspiration existed in words beginning with h derived from Germanic dialects ; but in the course of time the aspiration was lost. The letter w does not properly belong to the French alphabet. It was replaced by gu and hard g at an early date in the words beginning with w that were borrowed from Germanic sources. At present it appears only in a few words borrowed quite lately from foreign languages, such as wagon, from English waggon (cf. German wageri). ACCENTS. The use of accents as orthographic signs has not been determined by the history of the language ; i In this chapter and the following ones, it is assumed that the reader has made himself acquainted with the contents of Eugi-ne's Comparative French Gramwr (Williams and Norgate). 251 252 French Language the fixed rules given on the subject turn on usage, and they are revised from time to time by the French Academy. The accents were first written after the discovery of printing, and the signs then introduced were taken from Greek ; yet there is no analogy between the French orthographic accents here alluded to and the Greek ones which supplied them. SOUNDS. The double -II with the double liquid sound known as I mouilU is generally losing its full pronunciation. It is now pronounced like y between two vowels, but this departure from the practice his- torically established of sounding the double -II is rightly blamed by Littre*. The ARTICLE. Classical Latin had no article; for the sake of clearness in speech it became customary towards the end of the Roman Empire to add to substantives the demonstrative adjective ille in the places in which le, la, les are now used in French. Ilium became illom in Romance, and later illo, from which arose the Old French lo. A softening into le took place in the eleventh century. As for the plural les it is derived from Old French los leading back to classical Latin illos. The contractions du and au were, in the Middle Ages, del and al, the I being changed into u according to a well-known phonetic rule. In des contracted from de les, the I became mute. In aux, from & les, the u stands for tlie primitive I, while the x instead of the primitive s is Historical Grammar 253 quite arbitrary. Es, contracted from en les, is still found only in some standing phrases (bachelier-h-lettres) and geographical names. When the Latin preposition de had replaced in Romance the flexion of the genitive, the partitive use of the genitive article suggested itself quite naturally. As it was classical to say unus de libris, Romance came to say hdbeo de illis libris in which de illis corresponds to the English ' some ' and to the modern French des. The SUBSTANTIVE. In the Romance the preposi- tions de and ad were substituted in the genitive and in the dative for the flexions of classical Latin. As it was classical to say unus de illis and scribo ad patrem, there is nothing surprising in the increase of these prepositional phrases. Old French had at first three declensions with two cases to each, as follows : SINGULAR. Nominative Ro'sa-rose, mu'rus-murs, pa'stor-pastre. Accusative Ro'sam-rose, mu'rum-mur, pasto'rem-pasteur. PLURAL. Nominative Ro'sae-rose, mu'ri-mur, pasto'res-pasteurs. Accusative Ro'sas-roses, mu'ros-mtirs, pasto'res-pasteurs. Accordingly Old French said in the nominative, la rose est belle, le mufs est haut, le pastre est venu ; and in the accusative, fai vu la rose, le mur, le pasteur. In the twelfth century, the nominatives singular in the three declensions were unified and the distinguishing s 254 French Language received from the nominative singular of the second Latin declension was applied to all three; while the absence of s became the distinguishing sign of the accusative singular, or objective case. In the four- teenth century this last distinction between the nomi- native and the accusative disappeared, and the objec- tive form without the s was applied throughout the singular. As for the plural, in which the s, in analogy to the accusative plural of the second Latin declension, was the mark of the objective case, the s was in due course applied throughout ; so it came to be that the absence of s is the sign of the singular number in modern French (except in those words where a final s results from other causes), while the presence of s is the sign of the plural number. The form of French nouns is thus shown to have been determined by the corre- sponding accusative noun-forms in Latin both in the singular and in the pluraL There are, however, a few instances of modern French words derived from Latin nominatives. As for the Old French nominative pastre, accusative pasteur, the difference in form and accentuation between the two cases was strong enough to hand them both down to the modern language, in which a somewhat different meaning attaches to each. Modern pdtre is a keeper of sheep, and pasteur a keeper of souls. All the parts of speech liable to declension in Latin underwent, in the course of their history, a treatment analogous to the one we have just described as applying to substantives. Historical Grammar 255 The PLURAL. The use of s as the sign of the plural number has been accounted for in the preceding paragraph. In nouns ending in -nt in the singular, it was, till the days of our grandmothers, habitual to sup- press the t of the singular before the plural s. This practice is preserved in the Journal des Dtbats, and in the Revue des Deux Mondes. Substantives ending in s, x, z, have no flexional s in the plural, because the sibilant ending the singular would be unnecessarily doubled by such an addition. The presence of s, x, z, in the plural of nouns was at first often only an arbitrary practice, which is now enforced by the tyranny of usage. There is no reason why nouns ending in -au and -eu should receive an x rather than an s. In the Middle Ages, s, x, and z, were interchange- able signs, and used quite promiscuously. Were modern grammarians wise, they would not insist on the affixing of x either to nouns ending in -au and -eu or to the seven substantives in -ou which vex the modern schoolboy. As for the change from -al into -aux, -al became regularly -als in the earlier Middle Ages. There was no such thing as chevaux, but chevals, with every letter sounded, was the rule. Later, -al became generally -au before a consonant ; chevals was then pronounced and written chevaus, till the x was arbitrarily substi- tuted for s ; when the sibilant sound that could be re- presented by either became mute. The change of -ail into -aux in some seven words is by analogy with the preceding. Some substantives ending in I in the singular 256 French Language wavered between the two plural forms, the older -one, in which the I was preserved and the newer one, in which I became u. Both forms existing concurrently in the modern language had but one and the same mean- ing in the plural till grammarians allotted to each a certain fixed portion of their joint general acceptation. They laid down, for instance, that les aieux should mean the ancestors only, and les aieuls the grandfathers. GENDER. The words a?nour, orgue, and cttlice are given in modern grammars as being masculine in the singular and feminine in the plural. This is only another instance of arbitrariness receiving the sanction of usage. In Old French, Latin substantives ending in -or became almost all feminine when they denoted abstract ideas. The only exceptions now are honneur, amour, and labeur, which are masculine. Yet in the Middle Ages the two former of these were feminine also. Hence the handing down in the case of amour of a certain number of phrases in which it is femi- nine. These are recognised by modern grammarians as correct only in the plural. Orgue is from the Latin organum, a neuter early assimilated to the feminine nouns in Old French. In the 16th century, Latinising grammarians thought that by transferring it to the masculine gender they would bring it nearer to the original neuter. Hence an opposition arose between the feminine gender estab- lished in popular use and the masculine fathered upon the word by scholars. A compromise was struck by framing the rule that is now binding. Historical Grammar 257 The 16th century Latinists acted similarly regarding dtlice. They knew that this noun, a feminine plural in ordinary Latin, possessed a rarer singular form which was neuter. They at once decided that the French singular should follow the rare Latin singular and be masculine. In the two genders of gens we have a conflict between the etymological meaning of that word, which is feminine, being the same as that of Latin gens, gentis, a family, a nation ; while the idea that has come to underlie the word in French is that of men, of male attendants. It remained feminine, in some very current phrases in which the adjective stood before the noun. This peculiarity was taken advantage of to word the extraordinary rule that adjectives pre- ceding gens should be put in the feminine and those following in the masculine. The same process of gradually diverging from the original meaning was seen in personne and in chose when used in a more general sense than was allowed to them in Latin. As indefinite pronouns, they could no longer be said to represent the primitive feminine idea which was theirs in Latin, and they were used in the masculine, in keeping with the new meaning given to them. Enfant, from Latin infant-, with the same ending in the masculine and in the feminine, is a noun which has resisted the adjunction of final e, when it is used to express a female child. The double genders of oeuvre, couple, foudre are accounted for by similar historical processes. R 258 French Language instance, in foudre the feminine arises from the fact that in Koraance the neuter plural julgura was mis- taken for a feminine singular. FEMININE OF SUBSTANTIVES. The current rules for the formation of the feminine of substantives were produced by a historical development similar to that of adjectives. Latin etymology is the starting-point. Phonetic changes take place. Some of the suffixes inherited from Latin are replaced by French ones; some nouns are driven by the force of analogy from the class to which they historically belong into another; and then usage, as fixed by grammarians, decides with- out appeal. The ending -esse in such words as abbd, feminine abbesse, etc., came from the Latin suffix -issa, which appeared in words borrowed from the Greek, and was also added to words of Latin origin. The nouns in which -eur becomes -eresse show a weakening of the last syllable of the masculine by the transference of the tonic accent to the next syllable in the feminine. In ambassadrice, from ambassadeur, the ending -rice is fastened on to the d in analogy with nouns ending in Latin in -tor, French -teur, feminine -trix, French -trice. These feminine endings are not of popular formation. They were deliberately affixed by scholars to words which did not come to them from the people, but for which they obtained admittance into the current language. In the same way cantatrice copies Latin cantatrix. Impe'ratrice copies Latin imperatrix. Historical Grammar 259 The people said cJianteuse and emperesse, the latter of which is still found in English. The feminine of compagnon is usually given as com- pagne. In point of fact the latter word stands on a par with compains as found in the Chanson de Roland; compagnon is a diminutive which has superseded it. In the same manner mulct stands now as a masculine to mule, the original masculine form mul having gone out of use. Such nouns as gouverneur and serviteur have no feminines of their own in the modern language. Their so called feminines gouvernante and servante are derived from the present participle of the verbs gouverner and servir. The historical feminine of the former word survives in the English governess. While brebis is from the Latin vervecem, the corresponding masculine bttier is from the same root as the English bell. The full phrase was le mouton belier, that is, the sheep which had the bell, the leader of the flock. Le lifrvre (the hare), and its feminine la hose are similarly derived from different linguistic families. The first is from Latin leporem, and the second from the Teutonic root which gives hase to modern German. The origin of guenon, the feminine of singe, is unknown. In la tante the blunder has been committed of gluing on to the word the singular of the possessive adjective. Tante was originally for the Latin tua amita. The English has the correct form in aunt. THE FEMININE OF ADJECTIVES. Adjectives ending in e mute in the masculine do not add a flexional e in the 260 French Language feminine for the same reason that nouns ending in s in the singular do not add a second s in the plural. The fact that most of these adjectives had no feminine ending of their own in Latin would not have prevented their taking the flexional e by analogy with the much greater number which do so, if the etymological mascu- line had ended in any other vowel than e. The accent grave in such feminines as Ugere indicates to the eye that this vowel receives an open sound so as to enable the voice to pass on to the pronunciation of the flexional e mute. The sign of disevesis in such feminines as aigite, and the u after g in such feminines as tongue, are merely orthographic signs showing that the etymological pro- nunciation is preserved. Aigue represents the three- syllabled Latin acu'tam, and tongue corresponds to lo'ngam. Adjectives which double the final consonant before the suffix e, like those using an accent grave in the same position, do so to mark the full pronunciation of the final consonant of the masculine, caused by the necessity of passing on in pronunciation to the final e, while maintaining the tonic accent on the same syllable as in the masculine. The doubling of the consonant usually takes place after short vowels. In adjectives ending in x, the x is an arbitrary substitution for s. Favori is from the Italian favorite, which accounts for the t of its feminine. The c preserved in the feminine grccque shows the lengthening of the vowel e, which alone distinguishes in sound the feminine of that word from its masculine. Adjectives ending in -eur are known to form their Historical Grammar 261 feminine in four different ways. Those adding e, and derived from Latin adjectives in which there was no specific feminine ending, took e by analogy with the ordinary French practice. Those feminines ending in -euse, an ending in which the final r of the masculine disappears, owe the loss of the r to the practice in some parts of France of not pronouncing it at all at the end of words. Flatteuse leads back to the provincial pro- nunciation flatten instead offlatteur. The ending -osus, fenh -osa, offers the nearest Latin analogy^ We have already spoken, with reference to the feminine in nouns, of the feminine ending -trice of learned formation. As for the ending -eresse also already alluded to, it was very generally prevalent in the Middle Ages, though it is not frequent in the modern language. The -esse represents the Latin suffix -issa, while the -er- before it is the weakened -eur of the masculine. The five adjectives beau, fou, mou, nouveau, vieux are usually given as having three terminations. As a matter of fact, the forms just given are merely younger ones, while those with the final I reproduce the I that terminated their respective Latin stems. There was a marked tendency in Old French to replace the first of several consonants by a vowel ; even though some of them did belong to the next word. For instance in un bel cheval, the I was softened down to a u by a back influence of the consonantal sound ch. The same pro- cess gave rise to the forms fou, mou, nouveau, vieux. This last adjective being from the Latin Accusative vetulum, a diminutive substituted for the classical vet- 262 French Language erem, the final x is shown tfl> be spurious. When once it was there it could not but be pronounced like soft s before words beginning with a vowel or a so-called h mute ; hence the liberty to say un vieux ami for the more correct un vieil ami. It is usual to say that, in this class of adjectives, the I is allowed to stand before the vowel for reasons of euphony. History warrants no such explanation. The I was preserved simply because it was pronounced when standing before a vowel or an h mute, and could not possibly be dropped on that account. The same phenomenon appears in such verb forms as aime-t-il in which the t has nothing to do with euphony but fills the same purpose as in the Latin amat ille. The most frequent gender-flexions in Latin were those which we find in bonus, lona, bonum. In Eomance the neuter and the masculine coincided phonetically, and both have lost their flexions in Modern French. As for the a of the Latin feminine, it is represented by the flexional French e. At first Latin adjectives like grandis, neuter grande, which have no flexion of their own in the feminine, imparted this peculiarity to the French. It was then correct to say un Jwmme grand, unefemme grand, since there would have been in Latin grandis in both phrases. In course of time, however, an assimil- ation took place to the more general practice of putting an e, too late nevertheless to correct such well-established phrases as la grand rue, la grand mile; so grammarians, unmindful of the fashion in which these phrases which they felt to be in harmony with the gtnie de la lanyuc, as the French call it, had come about, decided to mark Historical Grammar 263 by an apostrophe that the e had fallen out, leading to a complete misunderstanding of what had taken place. PLURAL OF ADJECTIVES. As we have seen with nouns, the plural in adjectives was fixed by a historical development on which the rules of grammarians, often sanctioning wrongful usage, have engrafted themselves. For instance, bleu takes an s while Mbreu takes an x. The change of final I into u in the plural has remained in such an unsettled condition that some adjectives ending in -al are never used in the plural at all, so as to avoid the embarrassment of choosing between -als and -aux. The plural of tout, namely tons, in which the s is pronounced when that adjective stands as a pronoun at the end of a sentence, or emphatically within a sentence, drops the t in analogy with the old spelling enfans, for modern enfants. COMPARATIVE AND SUPERLATIVE. The analytic com- paratives in Latin were formed with the assistance of inagis. This adverb having been transferred to another grammatical function in French (cf. metis), the office of forming the comparative and superlative devolved upon plus. For the bulk of the comparatives and superlatives formed in Latin by suffixes the analytical formation with plus was substituted. But those adjectives which were in most frequent use resisted the analytical tendency. In the modern language these are reduced to three, Ion, mauvais and petit. A few synthetic superlatives of learned formation must be added to these, such as richissime, rarissime ; but these, considered historically, 264 French Language are blunders. If the people had handled them they would be rickime, rarime. NUMERALS. For naught the French say zSro, a word of Arabic origin. The discredit into which the forms septante, huitante, nonante have fallen is accounted for by the practice of counting by twenties. Quatre-vingts stands in a line with the now extinct cinq-vingts, six- vinyts. Vingt having stood as a unit of quantity, the practice of giving it a plural like every other noun is historically justified, and also the apparently paradoxical rule, that the s is not to be put if another numeral follows, for mngt may then no longer be considered as a noun. In the case of cent the habit of putting an sin such phrases as deux cents, trois cents, is justified by the Latin ducentos, trecentas, etc. The numerals from seven- teen to nineteen are formed in the same manner as in the Lingua Eomana where decem septem, decem octo, decem novem were in use. The rule as to spelling mil in dates of the Christian Era is absurd. History knows of the spelling mil as derived from Latin mille and of the spelling mille as derived from the Latin millia. The first is therefore a bona fide singular and the second a lonafide plural. It should be mil soldats and deux mille soldats, if mil were worth preserving at all. The ending of the ordinal numerals -ikme represents Latin -esimus through Old French -iesme. But Latin did not form all its ordinals in that way; from ' 1st ' to ' \ Oth ' Old French followed the corresponding Latin forms. But specific meanings and uses were gradually assigned Historical Grammar 265 to these older forms and fresh ones were coined for ordinary use ending in -time, like troisieme, etc. PERSONAL PRONOUNS. These are, in modern gram- mars, divided into disjunctive and conjunctive ; and still more recently into emphatic and unemphatic. These names show an effort at classifying the personal pronouns according to their history. But other pro- nouns than the personal ones have a double set of forms, and neither of the distinctions adopted covers the ground it is intended that it should. To make matters worse, the two sets of forms which it is advis- able to impress separately on the mind of the learner are not always phonetically distinct. The subject forms of the personal pronouns were very seldom used in Latin, and comparatively little used in the earlier periods of French. As for the third person, Latin had no complete pronoun, and the demonstrative pronoun ille had to be drawn upon to supply this vacancy. In close connection with the verb when used as either subject or object, personal pronouns come very near preserving the cases whereby their relation to the verb was marked in Latin. Je le lui donne represents very accurately ego illud (or ilium) illi dono, allowing for the transitional forms of Romance. H me parle and il me voit represent in the same way the synthetic phrases ille mihi parabulat (Romance of Greek origin instead of the classical loquitur), and ille me videt. For phonetic reasons, mihi and me both became me ; tibi and te both became te ; sibi and se became se ; but, also 266 French Language through the working of phonetic causes, in the demon- strative pronoun of the third person the direct and in- direct object forms are distinct, le standing for ilium, lui for illi (Koin. ellui, and ellei) ; plural les standing for illos and illas as direct object, and leur for illorum as indirect object. That the genitive form of the Latin should have been preferred to the dative form, in ex- pressing the indirect object of a verb, illustrates a tendency that marks deeply the whole development into French, that of preserving the bulkier forms rather than the shorter ones. The preceding remarks all apply to those forms of the pronoun called conjunc- tive or unemphatic. In the disjunctive or emphatic forms there is no remnant of Latin synthesis or of case flexions. Here the Latin pronominal forms, under the stress of emphatic accent, passed into the analogical forms moi, toi, soi\ lui, fern, elle; nous, wus; eux, fern, elles. The use of these with prepositions is absolutely parallel to that of ordinary French nouns. As said before, the strong disjunctive forms and the weak conjunctive ones are not always phonetically distinct. Some of them, through the ordinary working of phonetical rules, could not but come to be pronounced alike. For others, the strong form superseded the weak form in the office be- longing properly to the latter (cf. the imperative donne-le-moi with the negative ne me le donne pas). For all those reasons it might be better to give up the appellations in use, and, taking one's stand on a broad law in language, to divide the French pronouns Historical Grammar 267 into synthetic forms and analytical forms. We shall now give a table of both sets of forms, in the successive shapes they have passed through : FORMS OF SYNTHETIC ANALOGY. Mod. Old French. French. Romance. Latin. Sing. Subj. , . je jo e5 ego Obj., . me me me me & mihi. Flu. Subj., . nous nos nos nos Obj., . nous DOS nos nos & nobis. Sing. Subj., . tu tu tu tu Obj., . te te te te & tibi. Pl'u. Subj., . vous vos vos vos Obj., . . vous VO8 vos vos & vobis. Sing. Subj., . . Obj., . se se se se & sibi Pin. Subj., . Obj., . se se se se & sibi Sing. Sub., il il e'lle ille Dir. Obj., . le le 8116 ilium ,, Indir. Obj., . (lui) li 8111 illi Flu. Subj. . Us il illi Dir. Obj., . les los 6116s illos ,, ludir. Obj., . leur lor 6ll6ru illis (illo'rum) In the pronoun of the third person the feminine forms coincide with the masculine forms except in the sing. dir. obj., where la resulted from Eom. ella, Lat. illam, and in the nominatives elle, elles, Eom. ella, ella(s). Lui is not derived from Old Fr. li, but from the strong Romance form illui. FORMS OF ANALYTIC ANALOGY. These arose on the whole from the same Eomance and Latin forms as 268 French Language the preceding set. The case flexions of Latin being supplanted by prepositions, the Latin and Eomance endings had little to do with the shape of these pro- nouns. As they stood in places in which they were emphatically accented, it was the accent that deter- mined the principle of their phonetics, and their form remains the same in whatever relation they may stand to the verb. moi nous toi VOU8 soi lui etix elle elles is from emphatic me nos te VO9 se ellui dlos ella ellas The original forms here given are obviously the Romance ones. The forms of the third person present the peculiarity that, according to their place in a Romance sentence, one of the two syllables of tile was slurred over. "When the accent fell on the last syllable the vowel of the first syllable (e in the Romance, and i in the Latin) fell out. If the accent fell on the first syllable it was the second syllable that shrank to nothing. The dropping of the first syllable was quite systematic in ille used as an article. Modern French Us is not from Latin illi ; it rests on a transfer of old French Us (from illos) into the place of the etymological plural il. Historical Grammar 269 The so-called pronominal adverbs en and y are from Latin inde and ibi. The y is a mere substitute for i. These supply, in the synthetic set of pronouns, the place of the distinct genitive and dative cases which have died out. Their use with reference to persons is only limited, because their pronominal character has not been fully developed. The Latin neuter forms accented i'llud and illu'd have left traces in Modern French. Indeed, their disappear- ance was impossible, since the language had ideas to express which are inconsistent with the use of definitely masculine or feminine pronouns. In il est difficile ditre heureux, il stands plainly for i'llud, and if the reply to the preceding remark is je le sais, le is just as plainly for illu'd. The use of tu instead of the more formal vous (cf. Eug. you v. thou) has been greatly extended since the French Eevolution, when it was widely used in keep- ing with the professions of ' equality and fraternity ' made in those times. The unemphatic forms of pronouns being grammati- cal only in immediate connection with a verb (with but a few exceptions) the emphatic form has to be used conjointly with it, when, for oratorical purposes, it is necessary that special stress should be laid on the per- son. Hence such phrases as moije leferai orje leferai moi-mSme, etc. POSSESSIVES. These are either adjectives or pro- nouns. In the adjective proper, the Old French forms 270 French Language for the subject singular, mes, tes, ses, from Latin meus, tuus, suits, disappeared and the objective forms mon, ton, son took their place. The same thing occurred in the plural, where mes, tes, ses * have superseded the Mediaeval nominatives mei, tui, sui. Votre is from vostrum, an archaic Latin form preferred by Romance to the classical vestrum. Leur is from illorum and takes an s as if it represented an ordinary Latin accusative instead of being a heavily inflected genitive case. As for the practice of using mon, ton, son, instead of ma, ta, sa, before a femi- nine noun beginning with a vowel or silent Ji, it was introduced as late as the 14th century; Old French elided very properly the vowel in ma, ta, sa, saying m'e'pe'e, etc. M'amie represents alone in the modern language the older state of affairs. But even here the elision was so well forgotten that the spelling ma mie crept in, giving birth thereby to the term of endearment mie,a,s found in ta mie, 'thy sweetheart,' still forthcoming in popular songs. The pronominal forms have the same origin as the adjectival ones. As they bore an accentual stress, they grew mostly into fuller forms (cf. Eng. my book, in which my may be pronounced with a short e sound, and this book is mine). At first mien, ticn, sien were simply alternative forms to mon, ton, son, and their pronominal value was distinctly marked only after the definite article was placed before them. In le noire and le vdtre the fullness and length of the vowel is indicative of the pronominal stress, and not a consequence of the drop- ping out of the s for which the circumflex stands. In 1 Latin meos, tuos, suos, Historical Grammar 2 7 1 the adjectival forms noire and wire the o is short, and the dropping of s is without a sign. DEMONSTRATIVES. We have to distinguish here again between primitive emphatic and primitive unem- phatic forms, the first leading to the pronoun celui and the second producing the adjective ce, from different Latin demonstrative stems, which both received in Eomance the prefix ecce. The Latin eccistum and eccisti were in Eomance ekkestu and ekkestui. The former in the eleventh cen- tury had become icest and the latter icestui. A little later, cest, the direct object form proper, stood for both nominative and accusative, while the other form, evolved from the Eomance dative, died out. Cest became cet, and as the t was not sounded when a consonant or an aspirate h followed, it ceased to be written in such con- nections. Modern grammars often reason as if ce was the original form and the t put to it before vowels as a euphonic addition, but exactly the reverse process took place. The Eomance ekkeste had emphatic forms as well as non-emphatic forms, but the former have given rise to no pronoun in the modern language. The non-emphatic forms are alone represented in modern ce. The Eomance ekkelle (Lat. ecce ille) has failed to hand down its non-emphatic forms. The Mediaeval icil, fern. icelle, with the ind. obj. form icelui, is dead to ordinary use, though still occurring in legal phraseology and in some popular archaic phrases. Modern celui may be looked upon as a stem in which there is no longer an 272 French Language appreciable connection with icelui, and in which the old opposition to iste is so lost sight of that the adverbial particles ci and la are added to it to express the differences tween ' nearer ' and ' further,' totally obliterated in ce, celui as they now stand. In this way celni-ci has now the function of Komaiice ekkesti, and celui-la the function of ekkelle, in the places where these forms stood prono- niinally in contradistinction. Ecce iste est meus liber becomes in French celui-ci est mon livre; ecce ilk est meus liber, celui-l& est mon livre. In their adjectival connection ecce iste liber and ecce ille liber are represented by ce livre-ci, and ce lime-Id. The neutral pronoun ce, should not be confused with the masculine adjective ce. The former represents the Latin ecce hoc, which passed through forms iko, ikjo iczo, spelt igo, then go, and finally modern ce. It is used pronominally in demonstrative reference to things or ideas which stand in the mind definitely as nouns, but which cannot come under a masculine or a feminine category. RELATIVES. The relative lequd is used both as an adjective and as a pronoun. Its adjectival use is a logical outcome of such a connection as quotes homines, known to classical Latin. The primitive Latin relative qui, quae, quod has a progeny of Modern French forms which are only used pronominally. The previous use in Latin of the relative pronoun after prepositions here also laid the basis for a distinction between emphatic and unemphatic forms, Historical Grammar 273 while the extreme likeness of dative cui to nominative qui prepared the way for much confusion. In sentences like vir quern video the stress lay natur- ally on vir, while in id de quo loquor and in vir de quo loquor the absence of any stress on the preposition de threw a stress on quo, bringing about in French the emphatic forms ce de quoi je parle and I'homme de qui je parle. The form qui stands in the subjective for masculine, feminine, and neuter, and after prepositions for masculine and feminine only. The form que stands in the direct object for masculine, feminine, and neuter ; the form quoi stands after prepositions for neuter only, and the Latin dative has left no trace in the modern language, neither has the genitive. As a substitute for the latter there stepped in dont (from de unde) filling here a function similar to en in the scheme of personal pronouns. Dont may be used instead of de qui in refer- ence to persons. It must be used in reference to things, and after the neutral pronoun ce it may replace de quoi. Its two parts were once separable, as is evident in the older spelling d'ont. INDEFINITES. Among these autrui is derived from an old Eomance emphatic dative, alterui. It has long ceased to call up to the mind its primitive case relation. On from hominem, rien from rem, and personne from personam have all lost the definite noun-sense they had in Latin, and have gradually become so vague and abstract that, in the case of the two latter, their original feminine gender is no longer compatible with their S 274 French Language office. They are really neutral in meaning, and in the absence of a neuter they have passed to the masculine gender as indefinite pronouns. As for on, which was originally masculine, it goes the length of being con- nected with a feminine in the predicate (cf. on est vieille with on est vieux). 1 1 The grammatical rules commented upon in this chapter from the historical point of view are contained in Eugene's Comparative French Grammar, from 1 to 71. Our remarks should be read in conjunction with them. HISTORICAL GKAMMAR: THE VERB MOODS. These are the same as in Latin, except the so-called conditional mood, which is an invention of French grammarians. Its name is derived from its appearing in principal clauses subjected to a condition expressed with si in an associated dependent clause, but its origin is not to be sought in that direction at all. Latin had a future present and a future perfect, which it used in principal clauses without restriction, and in dependent clauses containing a direct temporal state- ment (ex. : cum Romam venero, ad te scribam quod perspexero). French can translate such sentences literally (quand je serai venu a Rome, je t'&rirai ce que j'aurai mi). When one or a series of such direct temporal state- ments (indicative mood) was subordinated to the belief, hope, or feeling of a person expressing his mind in a main clause, Latin had recourse to the construction known as the acciisativus cum infinitivo. By means of the present, perfect, and future tense-forms of the infinitive, or by periphrases of a similar nature, it could adhere strictly to the rules on the sequence of tenses (ex. : dico me ad te scripturum esse ; dico me ad te scripsisse , J75 276 French Language credebam eum scripturum esse, etc.). The elasticity of the ' infinitive ' formation of dependent clauses admitted of such constructions receiving great development. But when these constructions with the infinitive were greatly superseded in Romance by a construction with quod and a finite verb-form (saying instead of spero Petrum me amaturum esse, spero quod Petrus me amare habet), the want was felt of new indicative tense-forms to express from the stand-point of a person in the past the relation which in classical Latin was expressed by the accusativus cum infinitive: thence came the further Romance formation, sperabam quad Petrus me amare habcbat, leading to the French, j'espe'rais que Pierre m' aimer ait. The function of the subjunctive in conditional clauses and in principal clauses connected therewith having become uncertain through the growth of confusion in flexions, the indicative mood, with the new indirect future present and future perfect, took the place of the subjunctive where it failed. Then grammarians, looking at the historical process, not from the beginning, but from the end, invented the conditional mood. TENSES. French has in the indicative mood pre- served the synthetic present, imperfect, and perfect of Latin (giving to the last the name of past definite or preterite). It has introduced a new analytical tense, the past indefinite, for which there is no equivalent in Latin. It has lost the synthetic Latin pluperfect and supplied it by an analytical formation. Historical Grammar 277 It has introduced the past anterior, an analytical tense all its own. The future present and future perfect were preserved in a renovated synthetic shape due to Eomance. The imperative was preserved, though somewhat reshaped, in analogy with the French present of the indicative. In the subjunctive the French present corresponds to the Latin present; the French imperfect is derived from the Latin pluperfect, while the French perfect and pluperfect are analytical, the first of the corresponding synthetic Latin tenses being lost, and the second having been diverted. The two tenses of the conditional have been mentioned in the preceding paragraph. The Latin perfect infinitive has been supplanted by an analytical formation. The gerund has practically died out except after the preposition en; the supine has disappeared. The present participle remains and so does the past participle, but the future participle is no more. In the passive the tenses are all analytical. CONJUGATIONS. Grammarians distinguish on one hand four regular conjugations, and on the other a more or less classified mass of so-called irregular verbs. But history knows nothing of either regular or irregular conjugations. It can only recognise that the majority of French verbs belong to four types while a minority belongs to many types. The most important and most used verbs of the language are those which failed most signally to conform to a type, because being most frequently used, their in- 278 French Language dividual character was little exposed to the inroads of analogy and preserved itself through the centuries. To the first conjugation ending in -er belongs the group having in Latin -a're in the infinitive present. To these were added from the fifteenth century by scholars, who were misled by outward appearances, some verbs ending in Latin in -ere, such as prohiber from prohibere. Had natural analogy instead of artificial imitation been brought to bear upon such verbs they would have received the ending -oir and have been added to the third conjugation. To the second conjugation belong verbs ending in Latin in -ire ; only those were considered regular by grammarians which in some persons and tenses in- serted in the Latin the inchoative particle -sc- between the stem and the flexion. The third conjugation ending in -oir contains the verbs which ended in -ere in Latin or in Eomance. It contains only seventeen verbs, and corresponds to the second conjugation in Latin. The fourth conjugation ends in -re, embodying the ending -ere of the Latin third. It contains fifty verbs. AUXILIARY VERB AVOIR We give some of the simple tenses in Old French showing their Romance derivation. If. Fr. , avoir. Old French, aveir. Jtomance, abe're. Old Fr. Pres. 2nd. ai (a'bjo) Pres. Subj. aie (a'bja) as (a'bos) aies (a'bjas) a (t) (a'bet) aiet-ait (a'bjat) avons (ah-') aicns-aions (abja'mus) avez (ab-') aiez (abja'tis) out (a'b-) aient (a'bjant). Historical Grammar 279 Old Fr. Imp. Ind. aveie-avoie (abe'a) aveies-avoies (abe'as) aveit-avoit (abe'at) aviiens (abea'mus) aviiez (abea'tis) aveient-avoient (abe'ant). Pret Ind. oi (a'bvi) Per/. Subj. eusse (abue'sse) eus (abue'sti) eusses ot-eut (a'bvit) eust eumes (abue'mus) eussiens eustes (abue'stis) eussiez orent-eurent (a'bverunt) eussent Fut. Ind. avrai (a'ber a'bjo) Pres. Cond. avreie-avroie avras avreies-avroies avra avreit-avroit avrons avriiens-avriions avrez avriiez avront avreient-avroient Imperative, aie-aies (abjas) Pres. Part. aiant (abjante) Past. Part. eu(t) (abu'tu), fern. eu(d)e. The classical Latin and Modern French may in each set of forms be supplied by the reader. Before becoming an auxiliary, avoir was a notional verb ; hence two sets of forms in principle, that in which it bore its own accent as a notional verb, and that in which it had no accent of its own as an auxiliary verb. However, in the history of the verb, the distinct pho- netics can hardly be traced in each form. They were very frequently confused. The forms awns, avez, ont, are not purely etymo- logical. AUXILIARY VERB TRE. We give some of the simple tenses in Old French showing their Eomance derivation. Modern French, tre. Old French, estre. Rom., e'ssere. 280 French Language Q O Old Fr. Pres. Ind. sni (som) Pres. Sifij. seie-soie (sea) es (es) seics-soies (seas) est (est) seit-soit (seat) sommes (somns) seiens-soiens-soions (seamus) estes (estis) aeiez-soiez (seatis) sont (sont). seient-soient (seant). This verb had two imperfects in Old French. The older one, derived from Latin eram, disappeared very early on account of its confusing likeness to the future ero. Another imperfect was coined in its place from the Latin stem stab- as forthcoming in stabam, the im- perfect of stare. It is likely that the analogy presented by such verb forms as mettait had something to do with determining ttait, just as sont (font, wnt) may have affected ont, in the verb avoir. IMPERFECT INDICATIVE. Older Form. Newer Form. ere (era) esteie-estoie eres (eras) esteies-estoies ere (t) (erat) esteit-estoit estiiens esti'ez erent (erant). esteient-estoient. fret. Ind. fui- fus (fui) Perf. Subj. fusse (fosse) fus (fosti) fusses (fosses) fut-fu (fo'it) fust (fosset) fumes (fo'imus) fussiens fustes (fostis) fussiez furent (forunt) fussent (fossent.) In the future we have the same phenomenon as in the imperfect. There existed an older form from Latin ero which shared the fate of the imperfect from eram. In- stead of it, a new future was formed from the infinitive e'ssere in the ordinary Romance manner. Historical Grammar 281 FUTURE INDICATIVE. Older Form. Newer Form. ier (ero) serai ( [e's] sere a'bjo) iers (eris) seras iert (erit) sera iermes (e'rimus) serous serez ierent (erunt). seront. Pres. Cond. seroie. Imperat. sois. Pres. Part, estant. Past. Part. estet. It is doubtful whether the present participle was formed from estre by analogy with mettant from mettre, or whether the Latin stantem should be gone back to. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that the past participle estet is from Latin status. As for the Eomance infinitive e'ssere, it offers an analogy with the elongated forms po'tere, offe'rere, etc., substituted in Eomance for the Classical posse, offerre. The circumflex on the preterite forms nous ftimes, vousf&tes is a blunder against phonetics committed by the sixteenth century grammarians. There was no s iufuimus, and the only excuse for the circumflex is that it may mark the length of u, but there are many long us which dispense with this sign. AIMEK, ORDINARY PARADIGM OF THE FIRST CONJUGA- TION. The best historical division of French verbs is into primary and secondary verbs. The latter are dis- tinguished from the former by a uniform feature : they had in the Eomance perfect the tonic accent on the last syllable but one. Originally all secondary verbs formed their perfect by means of the suffix -in. But in the 282 French Language Lingua Romana this suffix already failed to appear in its primitive purity, because the forms in use in classical Latin, and which were contracted by the poets, found their way into popular Latin also. A comparison of the different Romance languages leads back to the three following types, as characterising the perfect in second- ary verbs. The perfect in Latin is in French the preterite or past definite. FUNDAMENTAL ROMANCE FORMS. canta'i rende'i (rende'di) parti'i canta'sti rende'sti parti'sti canta'vit rende'it parti'vit canta'mmus rende'mua parti'mmua canta'stis rende'stia parti'stis canta'runt 1 reude'runt parti'runt CLASSICAL LATIN FORMS, canta'vi re'ddidi parti'vi cantavi'sti reddidi'sti partivi'sti canta'vit re'ddidit parti'vit canta'vimus reddi'dimus parti'vimus cantavi'stis reddidi'stis partivi'stia cantave'runt reddide'runt partive'runt The gap yawning between the classical forms and the Modern French forms is easily accounted for by the goneral phonetic laws affecting the transition from Latin into French. MODERN FRENCH FORMS, chantai' rendi's parti's chantas rendis partis chanta rendit partit chantames rendimes partimes chantates rendites partites chanterent rendirent partirent In the preterite of the first class, here represented by i See No. 12, p. 247, and note 2, p. 245. Historical Grammar 283 the Romance canta'l, v disappeared throughout because it stood between two vowels immediately after the ac- cented syllable. The -ti of the second person was dropped, as is usual with those suffixes following the accented syllable which could not be incorporated with it. In the first person of the plural, the i of canta'vtmiis, being a short i between two consonants after the ac- cented syllable, could not survive. In the second person plural the full primitive suffix -stis brought into proxi- mity with the accented vowel a, through the disappear- ance of the intermediate v, shrunk to its present reduction -tes. In the third person plural the accent was thrown back to the a as the result of the falling out of v (see p. 245, No. 5). In the preterite of the second class, here represented by the Eomance rcnde'i, the original suffix -m lost its place to a re-duplication introduced at a very early date in analogy with the perfect dSdi of the primitive Latin verb dare. The tonic accent fell on the penulti- mate, again in analogy with the accentuation of de'di from ddre, root da- or ded-. Though in this class the termination -evi is not represented, the termination -edi (with accent on the e) is similarly constituted and obeyed the same phonetic laws. The d dropped out like the v for the same cause ; the tonic accent exerted the same influence on the suffixes, and was thrown back one place in the third person plural for the same cause. As for the s which appears in Modern French at the end of the first person singular, it is an etymological blunder. 284 French Language In the preterite of the third class, here represented by the Romance parti''i, the primitive termination -i'vi presents a close approximation to the -a'vi of the first, and there is nothing further to remark. There is in the ordinary French grammars no trace of this division, rooted in history, of French verbs into primary and secondary verbs, but there appears a totally arbitrary division into regular and irregular verbs. Modern verbs might fitly be classed into three conjugations, using as a basis the three types of pre- terite sketched above, and leaving out for further classification what in the present four regular conjuga- tions cannot be made to fit into the plan suggested. Unfortunately, it is too late to mend French grammars in that way. Returning, therefore, to the time-honoured but unhis- torical division into four conjugations according to the ending of the infinitive, we have still some fault to find with the paradigm aimer, which is the traditional one in the first conjugation; for it presents in its stem a development which it has in common with many so- called irregular verbs. In the Latin conjugation of amo the tonic accent did not rest permanently on the same syllable, as is made clear by the comparison of dmo with ama'vi, and with ama'mus. The tonic accent passed from the root syllable to the one or the other of the ensuing terminational syllables, according to the vary- ing length of the whole word. The same thing occurred in some nouns, where we have seen the differently accented Latin forms give rise to different French words, Historical Grammar 285 as pdtre from pastor, in contrast to pasteur from pas- to'rem. In keeping with the general law that the accented vowel was strengthened or lengthened by the effect of the stress laid on it, Latin a'mo was in Old French aim, but ama'mus became amons. This alter- nate thickness and purity of the root vowel, caused by the shifting of the accent, remained characteristic of many so-called irregular verbs, as is seen by comparing je sais with nous savons, je peux with nous pouvons. It has now disappeared from the verb aimer, the forms with the pure vowel having been assimilated to those with the thickened intonation. Yet this should have sufficed to preclude grammarians from setting up aimer as the pattern of regularity. Therefore, we shall adopt as a paradigm the verb chanter, in which the a is so hemmed in between consonants that the mobility of the accent did not affect it. As the simple tenses of verbs belonging to the first class (preterite in -aw) have had a great influence in shaping the terminations affixed to other verbs, we shall now give them in their historical sequence. PRESENT. INDICATIVE. SUBJUNCTIVE. Rom. Old Fr. Rom. Old Fr. ca'nto chant ca'nte chant ca'ntas chantas ca'ntes chanz ca'ntat chante(t) ca'ntet chant cant . . . chantons cant . . . chantiens canta'tis chantez cant . - . chantiez cautant chantent cant . . chantent The e, which in Modern French ends the first person 286 French Language singular, was first introduced in the fifteenth century. The e, which in the modern subjunctive appears in the three persons of the singular, dates also from that time. The forms for which no Komance suffix is given were subjected to analogical influence by the corresponding forms of the verb avoir. IMPERFECT. The present terminations of this tense are not directly descended from corresponding Komance forms. In Old French the etymological forms succumbed before the eleventh century to the attraction put forth by the already fully evolved imperfect of avoir. The s of the first person in Modern French is a blunder. It is generally interpreted as differentiating the imperfect from the preterite. Unfortunately for this theory it is not pronounced. The real distinction is that in the imperfect the ai has an open sound, while in the preterite it has a closed sound (cf. e and e"). The same difference in the pronunciation of ai distinguishes in the first person the future from the conditional. PRETERITE. INDICATIVE. SUBJUNCTIVE. Rom. Old Fr. Rom. Old Fr. canta'i' chantai canta'ssem chantasse canta'sti chant as canta'sses chautasses canta'vit chauta(t) canta'sset chantast canta'vimus chan tames cantass- . . . chantassiens canta'stis chan tastes cantass- . . . chautassiez canta'ruut chantereut caiita'sseut ohautasseut Historical Grammar 287 FUTURE. DIRECT (Ind. ). INDIRECT (Cond.). Pom. OldFr. Rom. Old Fr. ca'ntar a'bjo chanterai ca'utar abe'a chanteroie IMPERATIVE. INFINITIVE. ca'nta chante canta're chanter PART. PRES. PART. PERF. canta'nte chantant canta'tu chantet In the imperative the second person singular alone comes directly from the corresponding Eomance form. The other forms are borrowed from the French indicative or subjunctive. THE WORKING OF ANALOGY IN VERBS. The verbs tre and avoir are those most frequently used in current speech ; and by far the greater number of other verbs belong to the first conjugation. In consequence the terminations of ttre and avoir, as well as those of such verbs as chanter and aimer, forced themselves by the working of analogy on other verbs, and disturbed their phonetical development. 1. The first person plural in the indicative present ends in all verbs in -ons with the exception of sommes from tire. It may be taken that sommes has forced its accented o throughout the different conjugations and ousted the sound combinations which should have resulted from such different Latin vowels as long a, long e, short i and long i. For classical amdmus, debemus, leglmus, vestimus, French puts uniformly aimons, devons, lisons, vttons. In all verbs the second person plural present indicative 288 French Language ends in -ez and the third in -ent. The only instances of a preserved correspondence with the Latin are the forms faites, and dites (also redites, nfaites, etc.). The analogy of the second person plural is with the corresponding form of chanter, and, in the case of the third person, with the Latin ending -ant characteristic of the first Latin conjugation. 2. In the present and the imperfect of the subjunc- tive of all conjugations, the endings -ions and -iez in the first and second persons of the plural are due to the analogical force put forth by the corresponding persons of avoir, and in the case of -ions the influence of the -ons of the present indicative has also made itself felt analogically. (Of. Old French chantiens.) 3. In all conjugations the imperfect has the same ter- mination. Analogy with the corresponding forms of avoir has led to this uniformity. 4. In all verbs the present participle was formed in analogy to Eomance cantante, French chantant, the -ent- and -lent- of Latin (cf. monentem, audientem) beiug altogether superseded. FINIB, ORDINARY PARADIGM OF THE SECOND CON- JUGATION. Grammarians restrict the regular second conjugation to those verbs ending in the infinitive in -ir which in certain persons and tenses introduce -ss- be- tween the stem ending in i and the flexion. When this -ss- is viewed etymologically it appears to be the Latin inchoative particle -sc- (Greek cr/c). This particle, however, had completely lost its meaning when it came Historical Grammar 289 into general use in the Lingua Bomana, and its general introduction is only another instance of the tendency to lengthen verb and noun forms which appears to have been a necessity with Romance. It points to such for- mations as fini'skimus for classical finimus, French finiss-ons, and appare'skimus for classical apparemus, French apparaiss-ons. Since the office of the -ss- is restricted to strengthen- ing the verb form in which it stands, it is better to put together the verbs that have it as strong verbs of the second conjugation, and to call those which do not have it (generally dubbed irregular verbs) the weak verbs of the second conjugation. Therefore^?uV cannot be taken as representing the second conjugation viewed historically but only as being characteristic of its strong verbs. PRESENT. INDICATIVE. SUBJUNCTIVE. Rom. Mod. Fr. Bom. Mod. Fr. fini'sco finis fini'sca finisse tini'skis finis fini'scas finisses fini'skit Unit fini'scat finisse fini'sk- fiiiissons fini'sc- finissions fini'sk- finissez fini'sc- finissiez fini'scunt finisscnt fini'scant finissent IMPERFECT. INDICATIVE. SUBJUNCTIVE. Rom. Mod. Fr. Rom. Mod. Fr. fiuiske'ba finissais finii'ssem finisse etc. etc. etc. etc. The s which the Modern French has at the end of the first person, has crept in from the second person at the instigation of grammarians, whose labours in the cause T 290 French Language of artificial uniformity seem to be ever ready to go counter to natural analogy and etymology. PRESENT PARTICIPLE. Rom. finisca'nte. Mod. Fr. finissant. The k sound was throughout assimilated to the sibilant s. The above are the only persons and tenses in which the strengthening particle -ss- was inserted. RECEVOIR, ORDINARY PARADIGM OF THE THIRD CON- JUGATION. This verb, with the verbs conjugated like it, has less than any other so-called regular verb the right to appear in a scheme of regular conjugations. Some excuse can be pleaded for putting together the verbs ending in -er, for they are all secondary verbs of the first class (this class being characterised by the ending -aw of the Latin perfect). The putting to- gether of the verbs ending in -ir is not without some excuse too, since the -ss- nowhere affects the whole con- jugation of any verb in this class, and since they belong largely to one and the same class (ending -iw) of secondary verbs. But the verbs ending in -oir are primary verbs. They are derived from the second and third Latin conjuga- tions, in which the perfect is in principle formed in three different ways namely, in -i, in -si, or in -ui. These three terminations of the perfect taken as they appear in Romance are held to determine the class of primary verbs, just as the endings -am, -edi, and -ivi have been shown to distinguish the secondary Historical Grammar 291 verbs. So with recevoir there enters into the gram- matical scheme of the four conjugations a historical element which is not forthcoming in the first, second, and fourth 'regular ' conjugations. "We cannot enter here on the conditions underlying the conjugation of the primary verbs, for this would lead us from the province of general historical grammar into that of specialised phonetics, and com- parative etymology. Suffice it to say that recevoir presents in its conjugation a less uniform compromise than exists in the three other paradigms between fidelity to etymology and compliance with the force of analogy. The alteration of the stem of the verb from recev-, as it appears in the infinitive, present participle, and first and second persons plural of the present in- dicative, to ref- in the singular of the indicative, the preterite, the imperfect subjunctive, and past participle, the forms re$oiv- of the subjunctive present, and recevr- of the future, all show how many different factors were brought into play in the gradual elabora- tion of the Latin reci'pere, till, after passing through Koinance and Old French, it was crystallised in the modern forms of the French verb recevoir. The Latin recVpio gave re$oi, to which in the written language s was added by confusion with the second person. In red'pio the accent is on the short i before p. Hence the thickening of that i into oi, but when the tonic accent was pushed onward to the termination, as in reclpie'bam, the short *, free from the accentual stress, was lightened into an e mute. Hence the subsidiary 292 French Language stem recev-. This process was carried a step further in the future ; for when its flexion -ai was added to the infinitive recevoir, the syllable -oir lost in its turn its accent to the final -ai, leading to the intermediate form receverai. It is now recevrai. As in the preceding paradigms, the terminations that cannot be traced back to the corresponding forms of recipjo in Romance were introduced by analogy with the verbs of another conjugation. VENDEE, ORDINARY PARADIGM OF THE FOURTH CON- JUGATION. The fourth conjugation of modern gram- marians is made up of a medley of verbs, some of which, ending originally in -ivi or -edi in the Romance perfect, should be classified as secondary verbs, while others, the ' irregular ' ones, ending in the Romance per- fect in -i, -si, or -ui should be classed as primary. The s which appears in the second person singular of the imperative is not etymological, and is not found in Old French. It crept in after the thirteenth century in analogy with the second person of the indicative pre- sent. But down to the seventeenth century, it was permissible to omit the s in that person, while poets preserved the further liberty of not writing the spurious s of the first person (cf. je croi, poetical and etymo- logical for the /e crois of prose). Classical ve'nditus could not give the modern past participle vendu. Romance vendu'tu must be assumed, or analogy appealed to (cf. Romance battu'tu, French battu). ', SOME INTERROGATIVE FORMS OF VERBS. In aimt-je, Historical Grammar 293 puissd-je, interrogative for j'aime, queje puisse, the acute does not mark the close vowel sound of e, but it stands as a visible sign that the tonic accent should be laid on the syllable, because it is against the gtnie de la langue to have two mute syllables in succession at the end of any word. The t written between hyphens in aime-t-il, aima- t-il, is the t of the third person in Latin which has survived in pronunciation owing to its being caught up between two vowels and essential to the sense. THE DIPHTHONG Oi OR AT IN THE IMPERFECT. The wavering between oi and ai, first in pronunciation and then in writing, persisted down to the eighteenth century. Voltaire was the first to write ai where that sound was pronounced, not only in the imperfect of verbs, but also in adjectives likefranpais instead of the older franfois. THE AUXILIARY ETRE IN THE CONJUGATION OF IN- TRANSITIVE VERBS. Latin formed its perfect in the passive with the help of the auxiliary esse, saying amatus sum, and further, in deponent verbs, profectus sum. The latter being mostly intransitive, the auxiliary was quite naturally transmitted through Romance to some of the French intransitive verbs. Je suis n corresponds to natus sum; j'e suis venu to the Romance ventus sum, taking the place of classical veni when it was no longer able to express an indefinite past. (Cf. impers. ventum est.) 294 French Language THE AUXILIARY EIRE IN THE CONJUGATION OF REFLECTIVE VERBS. Reflective force could be given to a Latin verb in two different ways. The passive could be used : the history of the Latin passive shows that in its origin it cannot be distinguished from the reflective. Or else the reflective pronoun se with the verb in the active was taken advantage of. French preferred this latter formation. It borrowed the Latin reflective pronoun se and completed it by using reflec- tively the ordinary pronouns. Some verbs, which in themselves do not convey a reflective idea, such as mounr, received the reflective pronoun as expressing the progressivity of the action. Je me meurs means ' I am dying by degrees/ ' I am pining away ' ; je meurs, ' I am actually dying.' (Cf. s'en aller.) The deponent verbs of Latin forming their perfect with sum (cf. ultus sum, pollicitus sum) handed their auxiliary down to the French reflective conjugation, however illogical it may seem to an English boy to say/e me twUfrapptia the sense of ' I have struck myself. IMPERSONAL VERBS. These verbs are called impersonal because their pronoun stands in no definite personal meaning, it is merely a grammatical subject derived from Latin illud, and used for form's sake. An analy- tical language like French could ill dispense altogether with a subject pronoun even in its impersonal verbs. VERBS WITH E MUTE IN THE PENULTIMATE SYLLABLE. When we were dealing with the feminine of adjectives Historical Grammar 295 we explained such forms as secret, fem. secrbte, and sujet, fern, sujette, where the accent grave is used in the first instance, and the t is doubled in the other instance, with one and the same purpose in view. That was a case of arbitrariness in spelling sanctioned by usage. In deal- ing with interrogative verb forms, we explained on grounds of accentual stress the forms aime'-je, etc. The rules affecting verbs with e mute in the penultimate syllable, so far as they determine the spelling only, repeat the arbitrariness apparent in secrete, as compared with sujette. But, whether e is used, or whether the I or the t is doubled, there is, as in aime'-je, an accentual working which the modifications alluded to in the spelling endeavour clumsily to mark. In acheter, for instance, the accent is on the last syllable, but as soon as I s&yfachete the tonic accent is thrown back on the syllable which was mute in the infinitive. French cannot say fa'chete any more than it can say ai'me-je, so it s&ysfachete and achete'r, just as Latin said a' mo and ama're, and just as Old French said fdi'me (which might be spelt feme orfemme), and ame'r with a return in the absence of the accent to the pure vowel sound of the root. In that way all French verbs with an e nrnte in the penultimate, which either take e or double the consonant before the mute termi- nations -e, -es, -ent are shown to stand in a line with the general principles underlying the history of the language, Verbs with 4 in the penultimate like acce'le'rer change the closed e into an open e before a mute ending on the 296 French Language same principle as Ifge.r in the feminine becomes ligbre. DOUBLE FORMS IN BE"NIR AND FLEURIR. Latin past participle benedictus gave regularly in Old French benir, fern, benite. In a Roman Catholic country like France this past participle is more frequently used in the two phrases eau I6nite,pain ~binit than in any other phrase. Hence the modern language has preserved the t in those two instances. In all other uses of the past participle the t is dropped, as in fini from finitum, etc. The Latin florere, Romance floreskere, gave to French the infiuitive^orir. Alongside of it a fresh \erbfleurir was formed from the noun fleur, and was naturally used to express blossoming in its literal sense. Tiie older fiorir came then to be used only in a metaphorical sense. At present it survives only in florissant, je florissais, etc. (metaphorical). SO-CALLED PRINCIPAL PARTS AND DERIVED PARTS IN VERBS. Grammars are accustomed to prefix to the regu- lar conjugations a table of what they call the primary tenses or principal parts of the verb along with the derived parts or secondary tenses. There is in this a faulty practice which may be grounded upon logic, but does not rest upon fact. It is misleading, for instance, to say that from the present participle is formed the plural of the present indicative by changing -ant into -ons, -ez, -ent. The French people never sat in solemn conclave to decide, that, as they needed certain linguis- Historical Grammar 297 tic conveniences called tenses and moods, they would lay down certain principal parts, and then carry out certain deliberate changes in their endings. French is not an artificial language like Volapiik, and no tense was ever formed from another in the way indicated by our friends the formal grammarians. Their plan may be a convenient aid to memory, but its utility is far out-weighed by the misleading idea it impresses upon the mind of the pupil. 1 1 For a full treatment of the contents of chapters xii. , xiii., and xiv. see, in addition to authorities already quoted, Meissner's Philo- logy of the French Language, and Bracket's Historical Grammar of the French Language (translated by G. W. Kitchin). The Cours Stipdrieur de Grammaire F'ranqaise, by Brachet and Dussouchet (Hachette & Co.), is an excellent practical grammar on a historical basis, and should be read as a complement to Eugene's Comparative French Grammar. The material left by the eminent French philologist Arsene Darmesteter is now being given to the public by Professor E. Muret of Geneva University, in the shape of a Cours de Grammaire Historique de la Langue Francaise. The first volume, dealing with phonetics, has appeared. This work marks a great advance on that of Brachet, and should be preferred. It will be complete in four parts, namely, phonetics, morphology, word formation, and histori- cal syntax. CHAPTER XIV. THE SO-CALLED IRREGULAR VERB. As languages in their development work up to no outer rule or standard, there can be no question in verbs of breaking the rule or of irregularity. In Latin already there was great dissimilitude in the inner phonetics of verbs, and French, though in a lesser- degree, has inherited that characteristic. The so-called irregularity is seldom forthcoming in the actual termin- ations or flexions where the operation of analogy brought about almost complete uniformity. It is not often found either in the root, which remains, on the whole, a fixed phonetic quantity (accentual workings excepted, as in je leve compared with lever). The seat of the irregularity lies mostly between the root and the flexion. We have seen already, when discussing the formation of the feminine in adjectives, that certain letters and sounds of the Latin prototype, lost in the masculine form, reappeared in the feminine (cf. matin, maligne ; absoiis, absoute). The cause of this is obvious ; the sounds, and the signs marking them, which pro- vided for the oral and written passage from the root to the flexion, were, by a wise instinct of economy and ease, used for the same purpose in the younger language. But they underwent many changes of their own. The so-called Irregular Verb 299 PRIMARY VERBS. The so-called irregular verbs of Modern French correspond roughly to that class of verbs in Eomance which we have described as primary. While we found that all the secondary verbs were accented on the penultimate, primary verbs had their accent, in the first person singular of the perfect, on the stem (cf. ama'm with mo'nai and lefgi). We have already given the flexions which in the perfect constitute the character of primary verbs, namely, -si, -i, and -ui. Some confusion of these three types was brought about by the working of analogy among themselves. For instance, a large number of verbs which formed their perfect originally in -i passed in Romance into the -si class : prehendo had no longer prehendi then, but prensi ; occido instead of remaining occidi became occisi. Besides the classical veni, there arose the subsidiary form ve'nui in analogy to the classical te'nui. The classical form Tn'li was superseded in Eomance by be'bui. For rece'pi there stood rece'pui, etc. Later, when the s of the ending -si had been driven out as standing between two vowels, the differences between the three classes we have recognised in primary verbs according to their perfects were further obliterated, so that they can hardly be recognised at present as forming three distinct compact groups, without a reference to Old French to fill in the gaps. For that reason we shall not be able to give a connected history of the French primary verbs. We shall content ourselves with giving their three types as differentiated in principle, and then we shall have some remarks to make upon some verbs taken singly. 300 French Language FIRST CLASS OF PRIMARY VERBS. The only modern representatives of this class are voir, venir, and tcnir. TYPE OF PERFECT, CHAK. -i. INDICATIVE. (PRETERITE.) Rom. OU Fr. Mod. Fr. vi'di vi(t) vis vide'sti ve(d)i's vis vi'dit vit vit vidi'mus ve(d)i'me* viines vide'stis ve(d)i'stes vites vi'derunt ' vi'(d)rent virent SUBJUNCTIVE. (IMPERFECT.) Horn. Old Fr. Mod. Fr. vide'sse ve(d)i'sse visse vide'sses ve(d)i'sses vissea vide'sset ve'd)i'st vit videss-' ve(d)issie'n8 vissions videss-' ve(d)issie'z vissiez vide'ssent ve(d)i'ssent vissent SECOND CLASS OF PKIMARY VERBS. To this belong the verbs dire, mettre, rire,faire, etc. TYPE OF PERFECT, CHAR, -si. INDICATIVE. (PRETERITE.) Horn. Old Fr. Mod. Fr. pre'si (prensi) pris pris prese'sti presi's pris pre'sit prist prit presi'mus presi'mes primes prese'stis presi'stes prites pre'sSrunt pri'strent prirent SuBJUNcrn^E. (IMPERFECT.) Rom. Old Fr. Mod. Fr. prese'sse (prensissem) pre(s)i'sse prisse etc. etc. etc. See No. 12, p. 247. The so-called Irregiilar Verb 301 THIRD CLASS OF PRIMARY VERBS. In this class the preterite forms of the verbs are accented on the termin- ation because they have deviated from their original accentuation under the influence of the corresponding forms of the auxiliary verb f&'i (perfect of esse). The Latin verb debe're was accented in Romance x debu'isti, debu'imus, debu'istis, after fu'esti, fu'imus, fu'estis. The loss of the b reduced in time the whole form to one accented syllable, with the flexion as a mere appendage. In Modern French this class is represented by devoir, valoir, vouloir, etc. In Romance the past participle in this class ended in -utum, giving debit,' turn (Modern French dd) instead of classical deb'ltum. We discover here the origin of the u forthcoming in the past participle of rendre, recevoir, etc. When the verb-forms in this class are reduced to one syllable (apparently the stem syllable), faulty accentuation of the termination has none the less taken place, and contraction has ensued. TYPES OF PERFECT, CHAR. -ui. INDICATIVE. (PRETERITE) Rom. Old Fr. Mod. Fr. de(b)uV dm dus de(b)ui'sti dus dus de(b)ui't dut dut de(b)ui'mus dumes diimes de(b)ui'stis dutes dutes de'(b)verunt durent durent To detect the attraction, compare with the same tenses of ttre and avoir, towards which they have gravitated. 1 Against No. 10, y. 246. 302 French Language VERBS WITH A MIXED PERFECT. These are naitre, vaincre, and vivre; also the verbs ending in -aindre, -eindre, -oindre, with the compounds of -duire. In these, analogy with verbs similar in form or akin in meaning brought about confusion in the etymological processes. The larger number of so-called irregular verbs belonged in Old French to the third class of primary verbs. The defective verbs of Modern French are merely archaic forms preserved from verbs that were fully conjugated in the Middle Ages. They are survivals generally forthcoming only in well-estab- lished phrases, with which they are inseparably incorporated ; and their tendency is to be driven out more and more by neological formations. EEMARKS ON SOME SINGLE VERB FORMS. 1. The future of acquJrir is from the old infinitive querre, facyuerrai. Similarly the old infinitive courre is repre- sented in the future je courrai. 2. The verb faillir has almost died out in the three persons singular of the indicative present. It subsists, however, in le cceur me faut (neological, le cceur me manque), etc. 3. The past participle of f&rir (modern frapper) is still used in the past participle ftru, meaning ' infatu- ated.' 4. Though the verb gesir is spelt with a single s, it is pronounced as if there were a double s. H gisait is pronounced gi(s)sait, Romance jdke'bat. The so-called Irregular Verb 303 5. The verb ouir was still used in the future by Malherbe in verse. The past participle is now only used in legal parlance. The future, the preterite, and the past participle of choir were still in use in the 17th century. 6. Savoir has in the present participle savant and sachant. The former is used as an adjective only, and was formed directly from the stem sav-. Sachant is from Romance sabja'nte. 7. Souloir, from Latin solere, may still be found in the imperfect. 8. Valoir has two present participles, volant and vaillant. The latter is used literally in the phrase riavoir pas un sou vaillant. Elsewhere it is meta- phorical in the sense of ' valorous.' 9. Vouloir also had formerly two present participles, wulant and veuillant. The latter appears still in bien- veillant and malveillant. 10. Imboire, a compound of boire, is used only in the past participle imbu, Eomauce imbu'tu. 11. The simple verb paitre has neither preterite nor past participle, because confusion with the same tenses of pouwir would be unavoidable, but the compound repaitre has the two forms in question. CLASSIFICATION OF IRREGULAR VERBS. 1 Inf in 1 aller | Secondary verbs, class : -avi in ( envoyer ) Romance. Romance. Old French. Modern French. Inf. ala're aller aller Fret, ala'i alai allai Inf. inde-via're entveier envoyer Pret. inde-via'i' entveiai envoyai French Langitage dormir meutir partir sortir servir Secondary verbs, class : sentir -ivi in Romance. se repentir bouillir 2. Inf. in -ir. vetir (Weak verbs of the ( acque>ir second conjugation.) faillir saillir ouvrir Originally primary couvrir verbs. In Romance, offrir secondary verbs, class : souffrir -ivi. cueillir fuir mourir Primary verbs, class : (Weak verbs of the courir -ui in Romance second conjugation.) Inf. in -ir. tenir Primary verbs, classes: venir -i and -ui in Romance. EXAMPLES. Romance. Old French. Modern French. Inf. parti're partir partir Pret. parti'i' parti partis Inf. mori're morir mourir Pret. morui' morui mourus Inf. co'rrere corre [courir] 1 Pret. [courus] Inf. veni're venir venir Pret. ve'ni vin vins 1 The forms in square brackets are weak forms, disregarding the law of Ionic accentuation on the same syllable as in Latin. The so-called Irregular Verb 305 3. Inf. in -oir. pouvoir mouvoir pleuvoir savoir valoir vouloir devoir -cevoir Primary verbs, class: -ui in Rom. Inf. in -oir. falloir, secondary verb, class : -ivi seoir, primary verb, class : -si } in Rom. voir, primary verb, class : -i J- Compounds of voir and choir. EXAMPLES. Romance. Inf. pote're Pret. potuY Inf. move're Pret. movuY Inf. sape're Pret. sapuY Inf. vale're Pret. valui' Inf. vole're Pret. vo'l Inf. debe're Pret. debuY Inf. vede're Pret. ve'di Old French. pooir poi movoir mui savoir soi valoir valui voloir voil devoir dui veoir vi U Modern French. pouvoir pus mouvoir mus savoir sus valoir valus vouloir [voulus] devoir dus 306 French Language 4. Iiif. in re. f nuire plaire taire boire croire coudre inoudre connaitre paraitre paitre croitre -duire -struire, -truire cuire luire ecrire dire, -dire faire, -fire rire traire lire conclure plaindre -soudre mettre prendre suivre naitre vivre vaincre Primary verbs, class : -ui in Rom. Primary verbs, class : -si in Rom. Primary verb, class: -i in Rom. Primary verbs, mixed class in Rom. Romance. Inf. noke're, no'kre Pret. nocui' Inf. plake're, pla'kere Pret. plakuY EXAMPLES. Old French. nuisir, nuire nui plaisn ploi Modern French. nuire [nuisis] plaire plus The so-called Irregular Verb 307 Inf. be'bere beivre boire Pret. bebuY bui bus Inf. cre'dere croire croire Pret. creduY crui crus Inf. conno'skere conoistre connaitre Pret. connovuY conui connus Inf. cre'skere creistre croitre Pret. crevuY crui crus Inf. du'kere duire -duire Pret. du'ksi duis [-duisisj Inf. scri'bere escrivre e"crire Pret. scri'psi escris [ecrivis] Inf. di'kere dire dire Pret. di'ksi dia dis Inf. fa'kere faire faire Pret. fe'ki fi fis Inf. tra'kere traire traire Pret. tra'ksi trais ... Inf. le'gere Pret. le'gi, legui lire lis, lui lire lus Inf. plae'ngere Pret. pla'nksi plaindre plains plaindre [plaignis] Inf. me'ttere metre mettre Pret. mi'si mis mis Inf. pre'ndre Pret. pre'si prendre pris prendre pris Inf. na'skere naistre naitre Pret. nask-' nasqui naquis Inf. vi'vere vivre vivre Pret. vesk-' vesqui ve"cus Inf. vee'ukere veincre vaincre Pret. venk-' venqui vainquis Some of the Romance forms given in the preceding table of verbs have not been actually found in docu- ments. They are re-constituted hypothetically. There is, throughout the conjugation of primary verbs, a 308 French Language tendency towards the secondary verb form, either in the passage from Archaic Latin to Eomance, or from Romance to Old French, or from Old French to Modern French. The s which appears at the end of the Modern French preterite is spurious, except in the primary verbs ending in -si, where it is rightfully preserved. Some primary verbs had perfects of different classes ; for instance, faJcere had feci, feki, and fesi in Romance, legere had legsi and legui. Venire had veni and venui, while tenere besides tenui had teni. In many primary verbs in which Old French formed the etymological (also called strong) preterite, recognisable by the re- duction of the verb form to the stem syllable, a weak preterite in Modern French was formed, recognisable by the addition to the stem of a terminational syllable, which was introduced in analogy to the forms of secondary verbs. Such is the case with Modern French (cori)duisis, compared with the Old French preterite (cori)duis in which the termination is absorbed into the stem syllable. Compare also Old French voil with Modern voidus; Old French nui with Modern nuisis; Old French escris with Modern forivis; Old French plains with Modern plaignis. In some in- stances when a weak preterite failed to take the place of a strong preterite the tense disappeared altogether, as happened to the preterite of Iraire, from trakere. The three mixed perfects transmitted to French, though belonging to verbs primary in principle, have all weak preterites in Old and in Modern French. CHAPTEE XV. SCHOLARLY INFLUENCES, GALLICISMS. SYNTAX. Starting from imperfect Komance founda- tions, as Old French did in the Middle Ages, it was not possible to develop syntax very considerably, yet the French syntax that prevailed from the Eenaissance period was already in all its essential features contained in Old French. But syntax, in a language like French, which has its origin in a highly-developed form of human speech, could not but be subjected to learned and scholarly influences such as are less visible in the case of English for instance, which has not behind it a mother-tongue endowed with a high literary de- velopment. This amounts to saying that while popular influence was paramount in shaping the material of the French tongue, the matter stood differently with regard to its syntax. Yet scholars did help also in the coining of single words, and they did so very clumsily, for when mediaeval writers who knew Latin, and to a greater degree the humanists of the Eenaissance after them, introduced words directly from Latin into their French writings, they committed very much the same sort of mistake as when the writer of the Reichenau Glossary, 809 3io French Language mistrusting the bareness of the Eomance or Neo Latin forms, fitted on to them terminations of classical reminiscence. The Eenaissance scholars who wrote in French had no such mistrust of the capabilities of the language, but the classical forms of Latin words were so impressed upon their minds, as the only correct and elegant ones, that they introduced large numbers of classical Latin words into French by carrying out in the terminations only so much change as was required to make the words look and sound French. Even if they had been able to follow out the laws of proper derivation, and had deliberately attempted to coin the new words accordingly, they would have failed, because the organic process of derivation from Latin had come to an end and could not be revived. In that way words of learned formation in the French language form a class of their own. Being the outcome of mechanical processes (as distinct from dynamic) of derivation they run counter to the general principles which, we have seen, underlay the popular formation. They have the accentual stress on the last sounding syllable without regard to the place in which it was in Latin. They preserve the short vowel which was dropped in Romance. They keep the consonant which Eomance dropped between two vowels. In other respects still they are imitations, not derivations. EXAMPLES. Romance. French. fra'gilis fragi'le car(i)tas cliarite fra(g)ilis fragile Scholarly Influences Gallicisms 3 1 1 In the matter of syntax the action of the humanists was fully justified. For this is a province where there is little scope for a right popular action, and the refine- ments of Latin syntax, essential to clear and complete literary expression in Modern French, could not pene- trate the language through any other channel than scholarship. The building up of syntax on the pattern of Latin can be traced with the greatest ease in the writers of the 16th century, such as Calvin, and in the earlier writers of the 17th, such as Descartes and Pascal. In the second half of the 17th century the syntactical development is practically complete. The deliberate imitation of Latin constructions is no longer visible. French appears then in full possession of a syntax of its own, after rejecting all Latinisms which were at variance with the character of the language. From that time till the present the syntax of French has remained almost stationary. And it could not well be otherwise when we consider what huge weight of authority was allowed to the classical French tongue. Now-a-days, through the seeking of new literary effects and the comparative disregard of regularity in language which characterise the writing of the period, the bonds of syntax are being somewhat loosened; care to pre- serve the beauty and purity received from the past is no longer so visible ; and the forcing of the capabilities of syntax, with a view to effect, as well as the loosening of its stringency, with the same object, is distinctive of the times. 312 French Language GALLICISMS. Most Gallicisms have to be explained on other grounds than historical ones. They are mostly idiomatic phrases inextricably connected with the constitution of the language, and with the tempera- ment of its speakers. But a large number of them are rooted in the historical development of French, or else they contain an allusion to ancient customs and manners by reference to which they can be explained. A reference to the meaning of Latin magis (French metis) is enough to explain the Gallicism n'en poiwoir mais, in which ne . . . mais is old-fashioned for ne . . . plus, ne . . . pas davantage. In monter sur ses grands chevaux a reference to etymo- logy will be of no avail. The history of military customs has to be applied to. Gallicisms are most frequent in colloquial French, in comedy, in popular satire, in songs, in familiar oratory and in letters. The more elevated or pathetic the tone becomes, the fewer are the Gallicisms. We shall give a few of those Gallicisms which can be explained historically or etymologically. 1. Coiffe" a la Titus, aux enfants d'JEdouard, a la mal- content, a la turque, etc., are phrases in which the words manikre, fa$on, or mode, all feminine, have to be sup- plied : coiffe a la maniere turque, etc. The same omission accounts for the phrases Bonder Ics sacs a la diable, ^tre fait a la diable (a la maniere du dialle), etc. Cf. je vous la donne en cent ; vous m'en donnez d'une. 2. In such phrases as Ce diable, d'homme, coquine de femme/ the preposition de arises from the unwillingness Scholarly Influences Gallicisms 3 1 3 of French to allow the free use of a substantive as an attribute to another substantive. Of. La mile de Home, le mot de bonheur. 3. In si fttais que de vous there survives an old ex- clamatory use of que de which is now otherwise extinct. Cf. Latin quos ego ; quid de vobis dicam. Of. comme si de rien rietait ; grenouilles de sauter, etc. 4. In cela ne laisse pas de nous inquUter the old meaning of laisser based on that of Lat. laxare is pre- served (Eng. 'to leave off'). Now that this use of laisser is single, and that all similar uses have died out, an attraction in meaning to manquer de has established itself (cela ne manque pas de nous in- quieter). The use of penser in the sense of faillir (il pensa mourir), and oifus in the sense of allai (jefus a Paris le voir) is a similar survival. 5. In such phrase as il n'y voit pas (he is blind), and il n'y en a que pour les coquins (idiom. Eng. ' rascals alone are in it ') y and en may be viewed historically as expletive words which have crept in here from the numerous sentences in which they have a necessary grammatical function. But in the modern language they have become the most forcible part of such idioms. (Cf . also idiom. Eng. 'Well, he is going it '). 6. The idiomatic use of an adjective, apparently as a substantive, but really in agreement with a noun that is not expressed, is quite frequent. At one time the noun alluded to was still present in the mind of the speaker. La battler bonne a quelqu'un, also la bailler belle a quel~ 314 French Language qu'un (supply to the adjective the noun histoire) are equivalent to the English ' to stuff somebody.' In I'dchapper belle, la manquer belle, the noun occa- sion is understood. In the idiom avoir beau, it would appear that the masculine coup or jeu has to be under- stood. II a beau nous aider meant at first, ' Now he has a rare opportunity of showing that he can help us,' a meaning which was gradually changed (by the ironical implication that help would not be forthcoming) to the modern sense : ' His help is vain.' Cf. il ferait beau voir. 7. Monter sur ses grands chevaux (to stand on one's dignity, to make a show of indignation) refers to the big war steeds on which the knights marched into battle. Faire piece & quelqu'un alludes to the practice, pre- valent in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, of calling piece a ' skit ' or satirical play aimed at some personage objectionable in the opinion of the caricaturist. The phrase is now very much on a par with the English ' a Eoland for an Oliver.' Avoir maille & partir avec quelqu'un contains two words, one of which, namely, maille (a small coin, a farthing), has gone out of current use ; while the other, partir, has no longer the sense of 'to divide.' The phrase has now acquired a more general sense than its origin implies (Eng. 'to have a crow to pick with somebody '). Un homme de sac et de corde is explained by the practice once prevalent of tying up a culprit in a bag the better to drown him. Scholarly Influences Gallicisms 315 Prendre sans vert brings to mind the French rural practice of wearing a green twig during the month of May. Failure to do this entailed a fine payable to those who combined to uphold the practice. (Eng. equivalent : ' to be caught napping '). On en mettrait la main au feu once applied to actual ordeal by fire ; it is now only a literary phrase. It is an instance of the manner in which customs, after dying out as such, bequeathed to the literature of a subse- quent age some most picturesque touches. Se faire Uanc de son 6p6e alludes similarly to the ordeal by single combat, and rompre en visiere, literally, ' to break one's lance in the visor of one's adversary/ points in modern figurative language to the actual practice in the tournaments of chivalry. u, QS$-itJL ty ^^ \rfV&*^~*J i, _ IvtiZv ZX^Uo <*" QX/&J C-e-v^Hj -t CV W .c^cvj&. K INDEX See also Table of Contents and Chronological Tables. ABBE, ABBESSE, 258. Abe're, 278. Academic franchise, 90, 94, 99, 107, 108, 1S9, 190, 194. Accelerer, 295. Accent (orthogra. ), 251. (primary) (32), 250. (secondary (32), 250. Accusative, 253. Acheter, 295. Acquerir, 302. Active verbs (24), 249. Ad-, 253. Addison, 208. Adieux du poete k la vie, 147 (Ode imitee de plusieurs psaumes). Adolescence Clementine, 59. Agre (etym.), 241. -ai, 229, 232. Ai'eux, A'ieuls, 256. Aigue, 260. Aime-je ? 293, 295. Aimer, 281-284, 285, 287. Aime-t-il ? 262---'93. Aimons (anal.) (1), 287. -aindre, 302. -ais, 229. -ait, 229. Allegories, 51. Alphabet, 251. Alzire, 163. Ama'-i, amai (3), 245. Ambassadeur, ambassadrice, 258. Amour, 256. Amyot, 77, 133. Analogy (analytic), 267, 26S. (in verbs), 287, 292. (synthetic), 267. Andromaque, 122. Anglo-Norman, 227. An Introduction to Old French, 242. A'nma (14), 247. Apparaiss -ons, 289. Archaic Latin, 243, 308. -arent, 229. Aristippe, 96, 97. Aristotle, 94. Articles (20), 248, 252. Artpoetique, 118, 207. Asoudre, 232. Astenir, 232. Atala, 176, 177. Athalie, 119. Au, 252. Autrui, 273. Aux, 252. Aveir, 278. Avez, 279. -avi, 290. Avoir, 278, 286, 287, 288, 301. beau (6), 314. maille a partir avec quel- qu'un (7), 314. Avons, 279. BACHELIER-ES-LETTRES, 253. Bajazet, 123. Balzac, 86, 87, 96, 97, 98, 109, 134; 203, 204, 217, 219. Barante, 197. Barbarians, 222. Barbey d'AureVilly, 217. Barbier de Seville, 155. Beau, 261. Beaumarchais, 144, 145, 154, 157, 186. Bee (etym.), 236, 247. Belgium, 225. Belier, 259. Benedi'ctio'ne (32), 250. Bcnir (double forms in), 296. 317 i8 Index Beranger, 181-1S3, 196. Berenice, 123. Bergerac (Cyrano de), 107. Bergeries, 87. Bernardin de St Pierre, 152, 175, 176, 185. Besace (etym. ), 236. Bestiaires, 47. Beze (Theodore de), 65. Bibere (2), 244. Bienveillant, 303. Bleu, 263. Boileau, 67, 85, 90, 96, 102, 115, 116, 122,207, 213. Bolingbroke, 208. Bon, 263. Bonaparte, 22, 179. Bossuet, 109, 127, 131, 161. Boucler les sacs a la diable (1), 312 Bourbon kings, 15, 181, 189. Bourgeois geutilhomme, 121. Brachet, 297. Brebis (etym.), 236, 259. Breton Cycle, 36-39. Britannicus, 123. Buchanan (George), 80. Buffon, 147, 152. Burgundian, 228. Burke, 208. Burlesque, 90. Burton (Robert), 207. Byron, 213, 217, 218. CABANE (etym. ), 236. Cade're (27), 249. Caesar (conquest of Gaul). 10, 222. Calvin, 74, 76, 77,207, 311. Campbell, 208. Cauta'i, 282, 286. Cant'are (32) 250. Cantares de gesta, 34. Canta'ssem, 286. Cantatrice, 258. Ca'nto, 285. Capetian kings, 12. Caracteres de Theophraste, 130. Cases (18), 248, 269. Cassel Glossary, 235. Catherine of Russia, 150. Ciiuseries du lundi, 194. Ce, 271, 272. Ce diable d'homme (2), 312. Cela ne laisse pas de (4), 313. Celtiberia, 222. Celtic, 214, 250. Celui, 371, 272. Cent, 264. Cesar Birotteau, 204. Cesarotti, 214. Chansons de geste, 33, 34, 45, 91. Chanson de Roland, 33 36, 259. Chantai, 286. Chantai', 282. Chantant (4), 2S8. Chantasse, 286. Chant d'Eulalie, 240. Chanter, 285-287. Chanteuse, 259. Chantilly, 145. Chants du cr^puscule, 190. Chapelain, 90, 94, 98, 109. Charges (etym. ), 236. Charles the Bald, 236. Chateaubriand, 159, 175, 179, 181, 185, 189, 213, 216. Chatelet (Mme du), 163. Chatiments, 190. Chatterton, 184, 217. Chaumiere indienne, 153. Chauves-souris (etym.), 236. Che"nier, Joseph, 157. Andre, 133, 157. Cheoir (27), 249. Chevals, chevaux, 255. Choir, 303. Chose, 257. Choses, des (etym. ), 236. Chouan, 203. Chrestien de Troyes, 38, 39, 40, 41. Chute des Feuilles, 213. Cicero, 223. Cid (Le), 92, 192. Cinna, 95. Cinq-Mars, 183. Circumflex, 270, 281. Classification of irregular verbs, 303-307. Coepa, 244. Coifle a la Titus, etc. (1), 312. College de France, 57, 199. Louis le Grand, 162. Index 3'9 College Montaigu, 75. Collins, 208. Colomba, 205. Comedie humaine, 204. Commines (Philippe de), 198. Compagnon, compague, 259. Compains, 259. Comparative and superlative, 263. Comparative French Grammar, 251, 274. Conde, 17, 128, 130. Conditional, 276, 277. Conduisis, 308. Congreve, 208. Conjugations (27), 249, 277, 284, 288. (1st), 278, 281. (2d), 278, 288, 289. (3d), 278. (4th), 278, 292. Considerations sur les causes, etc. , 129, 161. Cousuelo, 202. Contemplations, 191. Conti (Prince de), 145. Contrat social, 169. Coquine de femme (2), 312. Corinne, 180. Corneille, 91, 96, 109, 112, 122, 123, 124, 207. Cottier, Charles, 57. Cotton, 83. Coudre (10), 246. Coupable (etym.), 236. Coup d'etat, 27. Couple, 257. Courier (Paul Louis), 195. Courrai, 302. Cours de Grammaire historique, 297. superieur de Grammaire francaise, 297. Crispin, rival de son maitre, 144. Cromwell, 192, 210. Cui (3), 245. Cuidoie, 228. Cuidoue, cuidoe, 227. Cuisse(etym.), 236. Cuvier, 148. D'ALEMBERT, 151. Daniel (Samuel), 83. Darmesteter (A. ), 297. Daudet, 218. De, 253. De(b)'ui, 301. Declensions (19), 248, 253. De 1'Allemagne, 181. De la literature conside"r4e dans ses rapports, etc., 180. Delaunay (Mile), 143. Device, 256, 257. Delphine, 180. Demonstratives, 271. De"pit amoureux, 120. De Retz (Cardinal), 142. Des, 252, 253. Descartes, 77, 99, 119, 160, 301. Deu (3), 245. Devoir, 301. Devons (anal.) (1), 287. D'Hervart (M.), 113. Diable boiteux, 144. Dickens, 218. Dictionnaire de 1'Acad^mie, 99. Diderot, 149, 151, 152, 153. Diphthongs, oi or ai, 293. Dire, 300. Discours de la me"thode, 100. politiques, 96. sur le style, 148. sur I'homme, 164. sur Torigine de 1'inegalitd, etc., 169. Dites(anaL) (1), 288. Dix anndes d'exil, 181. ans d'etudes historiques, 197. Do'rnice'lla (32), 250. Don Juan, 120. Dont, 273. Drames, 150. Drap (etym.), 236. Dryden, 208. Du, 252. Du Bartas, 63. Due d'Enghien, 177. Ducis, 210, 216. Dudevant (Mme), 201. -duire, 302. Dumas, 200, 216, 217. Duo (3), 245. Dupin (Aurore), 201. Dus, 301. 320 Index, -e, 286. e, 244, 286, 295. e, 260, 295. e mute (adjectives), 260. verbs, '294, 295. Ecce (23), 248. Eoole des Maris, 120. Ecrivis, 308. Ei, 227, 240. -eindre, 302. Ekkelle, 272. Ekkesti, 272. Elegie aux nympnes de Vaux, 113. Elements de la Philosophic, 164. Elle, 266. Elles, 266. Emigres, 20, 25, 176. Einile, 170. Emperesse, 259. Empire (first), 23. (second), 27, 187, 218. Emprunter (etym.). 236. En, 269, 273, 277, 313. Encyclopaedia (Chambers'), 151. Encyclopedic, 150, 151. Enfant, 257. Enfauts (etym.), 236. -ent, 295. Entie'r (11), 247. Entrailles (etym.), 236. Epee(17), 247. Epitre de St Etienne, 241. Kpitres, 117. Epoques de la Nature, 148. -er, 290. Erasmus, 75. Ere, 280. -es, 295. Es, 253. Espa'ta (17), 247. Esprit des lois, 161. Esprit litteVaire francais, 56, 57. Essais (Montaigne), 80. Esse (23), 249. E'ssere, 279. Esteie, 280. Esther, 124. Estre, '279, 281. F.tats ge'neraux, 13, 16, 19, 157. Etre (auxiliary), 293, 294. Etre, 279, 287, 301. Etudes de la Nature, 153. Eu, 227, 232. Eugenie Grandet, 204. Eugene, 251, 274. Eux, 2(56. -eve, 229. -eves, 229. -evet, 229. FABLEAUX, 44. Fables of La Fontaine, 114. Facio, fakjo (7), 246. Faillir, 302. Faire, 300. Faire piece a quelqu'un (7), 314. Faites (1), 288. Favori, 260. Fedre (etym.), 241. Feminine (21), 248, 273. Feminine of (substantives), 258. (adjectives), 259. Femmes savantes, 121. Fenelon, 129, 131. Fe>ir, 302. Ferney, 165. Feru, 302. Feuilles d'Automne, 190. Feuilleton, 201. Fidem (2), 244. Figaro, 145, 155. Filleu'l (9), 246. Finir, 288, 289. Finis, 289. Fiuisca'nte, 290. Fini'sco, 289. Finissant, 290. Finiss-ons, 289. Firmum (2), 244. Flatteuse, 261. Flaubert, 205, 219. Fleurir (double forms in), 296. Florio (Giovanni), 83. Font, 280. Fou, 261. Foudre, 257. Fouquet, 113, 135. Fourberies de Scapin, 121. Francais -