Moral Reflections, Sentences and Maxims/Life of Francis, Duke of Rochefoucauld

by François La Rochefoucauld, Stanisław Leszczyński, Jean François Paul de Gondi, cardinal de Retz

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LIFE

OF

FRANCIS, DUKE OF ROCHEFOUCAULD.

Francis, Duke of Rochefoucauld, Prince of Marsillac, a distinguished wit and nobleman of the reign of Louis XIV., was born in 1613. He distinguished himself as the most brilliant nobleman about the court, and by his share in the good graces of the celebrated Duchess of Longueville, was involved in the civil wars of the Fronde. He signalized his courage at the battle of St, Antoine, in Paris, and received a shot which for some time deprived him of his sight. At a more advanced period, his house was the resort of the best company at Paris, including Boileau, Racine, and the Mesdames Sevigné and La Fayette. By the former of these ladies, he is spoken of as holding the first rank in "courage, merit, tenderness, and good sense." The letters of Madame de Maintenon, also, speak of him with high, but inconsistent praise. Huet describes him as possessing a nervous temperament, which would not allow him to accept a seat in the French Academy, owing to his want of courage to make a public speech. The Duke de Rochefoucauld died with philosophic tranquillity, at Paris, in 1680, in his sixty-eighth year. This nobleman wrote "Mémoires de la Règne d'Anne d'Autriche," 2 vols. 12mo., 1713, an energetic and faithful representation of that fretful predicament as Macihiavelli with regard to political morality. J. J. Rousseau, who was certainly not free from selfishness, has abused La Rochefoucauld's maxims, and yet, in his "Emile," he observes that "selfishness is the mainspring of all our actions;" and that "authors, while they are ever talking of truth, which they care little about, think chiefly of their own interest, of which they do not talk." La Fontaine, in his fable, (b. i. 11,) "L' Homme et son Image," has made an ingenious defence of La Rochefoucauld's book. The "Maxims" receive a portion of their peculiar point from the very courtly scene of contemplation, and from the delicacy and finesse with which the veil is penetrated that is spread over the surface of refined society. It is well known that Swift was a decided admirer of Rochefoucauld, and his celebrated poem on his own death commences with an avowal of the fact.^[1] The misanthropy of that great man renders his suffrage any thing but popular; but possibly, as in the doctrine of the invariable predominance of the stronger motive, that of self-love simply bespeaks a more strict attention to early cultivation and discipline, to render it not only compatible with virtue, but strictly and philosophically connected with the highest, the noblest, and, in common language, the most disinterested fulfillment of all our duties.

La Rochefoucauld's "Maximes" have gone through many editions. The " Œuvres de la Rochefoucauld," 1818, contain, besides his already published works, several inedited letters and a biographical notice.

⁠ ⁠

INTRODUCTION.

The family of La Rochefoucauld is one of the most ancient and illustrious in France. Its founder, according to Andrew Du Chesne, was one Foucauld, or Fulk, a cadet, as is supposed, of the house of Lusignan, or Lezignem, and connected with the ancient Dukes of Guienne, who appears, about the period A.D. 1000, as Seigneur, or Lord, of the Town of La Roche in the Angoumois. He is described in contemporary charters as Vir nobilissimus Fulcaldus, and his renown seems to have been sufficiently extensive to confer his name on La Roche, which has ever since borne, and bestowed on his descendants, the distinctive appellation of La Roche Foucauld. Guy, the eighth Seigneur de la Roche Foucauld, is mentioned by Froissart as having performed, in the year 1380, a celebrated tilt in the lists at Bordeaux, whither he came, attended by 200 of his kinsmen and connections.

Francis, the sixteenth seigneur, had the honor of being sponsor to, and bestowing his name on, King Francis I., and was shortly afterwards advanced to the dignity of Count de la Rochefoucauld. The widow of his son and successor, in the year 1539, entertained, at the family seat of Vertueil, the Emperor Charles V., and some of the Royal Family of France. The Emperor is reported by a contemporary historian to have said on his departure, that he had never entered a house which possessed such an air of virtue, courtesy, and nobility as that. Francis, the fifth count, was created the Duke de la Rochefoucauld in 1622, and was father to Francis, the second duke, the celebrated author of the Maxims, who was born on the 15th December, 1613. The principal events of his life are matter of history rather than biography, as he was a leading actor in the numerous and complicated state intrigues which took place in France after the death of Louis XIII., and during the minority of his successor. It is extremely difficult at this period, and would hardly be worth while, to attempt to trace the course of these cabals and the wars to which they gave rise. Beyond the gratification of an absurd ambition, it is almost impossible to discover any object that the contending parties had in view; and the motives of individuals are still more difficult to penetrate, from the conflicting accounts given by the various actors themselves, of the transactions in which they were engaged. The impression left on the mind by a perusal of the histories of the times, is a painful sensation of the corruption of the government, the sad want of public, or even private, principle on the part of the higher classes, and the frivolity and folly generally prevalent in the society of the period. La Rochefoucauld was early engaged on the side of the Fronde, the party opposed to Mazarin, which was also espoused by the Duchesse de Longueville, (whose lover La Rochefoucauld then was,) by the Prince de Conti, and afterwards by the celebrated Condé. To these princes La Rochefoucauld appears to have remained faithful during all the subsequent mutations of the party. He took part in most of the military proceedings that resulted from the troubles of the times; and though he does not appear much in the character of a general, is universally allowed to have displayed the greatest bravery on all occasions. At the battle of St. Antoine, near Paris, he received a severe wound in the head, which for a time deprived him of sight, and was the occasion of terminating his military career. Before he had recovered, the Fronde had fallen before the gold of Mazarin and the arms of Turenne. Condé was driven from France; and as the proclamation of the King's majority appeared likely to put an end to the miserable dissensions which had so long existed, La Rochefoucauld, with the consent of Condé, reconciled himself to the court, and returned to Paris, where he continued to live in the midst of the literary and fashionable society of the time until his death in 1680. His most attached friend was Madame de Lafayette, authoress of the Princesse de Cleves; but he was also intimately acquainted with Madame de Sevigné, (in whose letters repeated mention is made of him,) La Fontaine, Racine, Boileau, and most of the celebrated men of his age. La Rochefoucauld appears to have been a man of most amiable character and of high personal probity; for, amid the various party feelings of the writers of that period, scarcely any thing can be discovered in the accounts they have left which would throw discredit on him. He possessed brilliant powers of mind, but without any regular education; and an easiness of temper, combined, as it generally is, with fickleness and indecision, which is supposed to have led him to engage so constantly in the various intrigues of the time. He has left us an entertaining sketch of himself, which is subjoined, together with another character of him by Cardinal de Retz, his great enemy, and also a character of De Retz, by La Rochefoucauld.

In the leisure which succeeded to the stir of his early life. La Rochefoucauld composed the " Memoirs of his own Times," and the work on which his fame is founded, " Maxims and Moral Reflections." Voltaire's remark on the two is well known, that the *^ Memoirs are read, and the Maxims are known by heart." It may be doubted, however, whether the " Memoirs" are often read at the present day, notwithstanding the extravagant compliment of Bay le, that "there are few people so bigoted to antiquity as not to prefer the * Memoirs' of La Rochefoucauld to the * Commentaries of Cœsar.' " In fact, their interest appears to have passed away with that of the times of which they treat.

The book of " Maxims" no doubt results from the observation of La Rochefoucauld's earlier years, combined with the reflection of his later life. He appears to have taken considerable pains with their composition, submitting them frequently for the approval of his numerous circle of friends, and altering some of them, according to Segrais, nearly thirty times. They were first published in 1665, with a preface by Segrais, which was omitted in the subsequent editions; several of which appeared, with various corrections, during the author's life.^[2]

Scarcely any work, as Mr. Hallam observes, has been more highly extolled or more severely censured. Dr. Johnson has pronounced it almost the only book written by a man of fashion, of which professed authors had reason to be jealous. Rousseau calls it, (Conf. b. 3,) " livre triste et désolant," though he goes on to make a naive admission of its truth, " principalement dans la jeunesse où l'on n'aime pas à voir l'homme comme il est." Voltaire's account of it, in his " Age of Louis XIV.," is perhaps the most generally acquiesced in:—"One of the works which most cohtaibnted- te~form the taste of the nation, and to give it a spirit of justness and precision, was the collection of the 'Maxims' of Francis, Due de la Rochefoucauld. Though there is scarcely more than one truth running through the book—^that ' self-love is the motive of every thing;' yet Ais thought is presented under so many various aspects, that it is almost always striking; it is not so much a book as materials for ornamenting a book. This little collection was read with avidity; it taught people to think and to comprise their thoughts in a lively, precise, and delicate turn of expression. This was a merit which, before him, no one in Europe had attained, since the revival of letters."^[3]

It would be difficult to give higher praise than this to the style of the " Maxims," to which, no doubt, the work owes a great part of its popularity. If not precisely the in* ventor. La Rochefoucauld is, at all events, the model of this mode of writing, in which success indeed is rare, but when attained, it has many charms for the reader.^[4] "The writing in aphorisms," as Bacon observes, (Adv. of Learn.,) "hath may excellent virtues whereto the writing in method doth not approach. For first, it trieth the writer whether he be superficial or solid; for aphorisms, except they be ridiculous, cannot be made but of the pith and heart of sciences; for discourse of illustration is cut off; recitals of example are cut off; discourse of connection and order is cut off; descriptions of practice are cut off: so there remaineth nothing to fill the aphorisms but some good quantity of observation: and therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt, to write aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But in method

⁠Tantum series juncturaque pollet,
Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,

as a man shall make a great show of an art, which, if it were disjointed, would come to little. Secondly, methods are more fit to win consent or belief, but less fit to point to action; for they carry a kind of demonstration in orb or circle, one part illuminating another, and therefore satisfy; but particulars being dispersed, do best agree with dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms representing a knowledge broken, do invite men to inquire further; whereas methods, carrying the show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at furthest."

A principal cause of the attractiveness of this mode of writing lies in the necessarily epigrammatic turn of the sentences, which constantly arrests the attention; and while it stimulates the reader's reflection, renders the point of the observation more palpable and more easy to be retained in the memory. It is, besides, no mean advantage to be spared the exertion of wading through and deciding upon the successive stages, each perhaps admitting of discussion, of a tedious and involved argument, and to be presented at once with ready-made conclusions. Notwithstanding Bacon's second remark on aphorisms, it seems questionable whether the mind is not more disposed to assent to a proposition when clearly and boldly announced on the ipse dixit of a writer, than when arrived at as the termination of a chain of reasoning. Where so much proof is required, men are apt to think much doubt exists; and a simple enunciation of a truth is, on this account perhaps, the more imposing from our not being admitted, as it were, behind the scenes, and allowed to inspect the machinery which has produced the result. There is, besides, a yearn mg after infallibility to a greater or less degree latent in every human heart, that derives a momentary gratification from the oracular nature of these declarations of truth, which seem to be exempt from the faults and shortcomings of human reason, and to spring, with all the precision of instinct, full grown to light, like Minerva from the head of Jupiter.^[5]

The chief, perhaps the only serious, defect incidental to this mode of composition, is the constantly recurring temptation to sacrifice the strict truth to the point of the maxim. For the sake of renderitig the turn of expression more smart and epigrammatic, truth is sometimes distorted, sometimes laid down in such general and unqualified terms as sober reason would not warrant. La Rochefoucauld ia by no means free from this fault, which perhaps is inseparable from the species of composition we are considering, and may be regarded as the price we pay for its other advantages.

But while the style of the " Maxims" has been almost universally admired, the peculiar views of morals they present have been the subject of much cavil. The author is generally considered as a principal supporter of the selfish school of moralists; and, indeed, the popular opinion of the " Maxims" seems to be summed up in Voltaire's remark, that there is but one truth running through the book; that " self-love is the motive of every action." Bishop Butler's observations are to the same effect, (Pref. to Sermons:)

"There is a strange affectation in some people of explaining away all particular affections, and representing the whole of life as nothing but one continued exercise of self-love. Hence arises that surprising confusion and perplexity in the Epicureans of old, Hobbes, the author of * Reflections, &c. Morales,' and this whole set of writers, of calling actions .interested which are done in contradiction of the most manifest known interest, merely for the gratification of a present passion. Now all this confusion might be avoided by stating to ourselves wherein the idea of self-love consists, as distinguished from all particular movements towards particular external objects, the appetites of sense, resentment, compassion, curiosity, ambition, and the rest. When this is done, if the words 'selfish' and 'interested' cannot be parted with, but must be applied to every thing, yet to avoid such total confusion of all language, let the disitnction be made by epithets,—and the first may be called cool or settled selfishness, and the other passionate or sensual selfishness. ' But the most natural way of speaki% plainly is, to call the first only self-love, and the actions" proceeding from it, interested; and to say of the latter, that they are not love to ourselves, but movements towards somewhat external, honor, power, the harm or good of another, and that the pursuit of these external objects, so fiur as it proceeds from these movements, (for it may proceed from self-love,) is no otherwise interested than as every action of every creature must from the nature of the thing be; for no one can act but from a desire, or choice, or preference of his own." The confusion of language complained of by Butler, has certainly been the cause of much misapprehension on this subject; but it does not appear right to ^arge La Rochefoucauld with this ambiguity;„on the contrary, it will be evident to any attentive reader of the " Maxims" that " self-love" and " interest" are clearly distinguished from each other. If it were not so, and La Rochefoucauld considered interest to be man's only motive, Maxims 415, that "Men more easily surrender their interests' than their tastes," and 512, that "There are more people without interest than without envy," would involve palpable absurdities, Irt fact, " self-love" and " interest," in the "Maxims," stand to each other in their real relation I of a' whole and one of its parts.

With regard to the question whether La Rochefoucauld meant to represent self-love, in its more extended sense, as the motive of all human actions, it seems not altogether fair to charge him with the inculcation of any particular theory or system, in the same manner as if the maxims were formal deductions from a regularly reasoned treatise, instead of being, as they are, unconnected observations on mankind and their actions. If he had, however, any regular I design^ it was not so much to point out self-love as the primum mobile, but rather to expose the hypocrisy and pretence so current in the world under the name of virtue This will be apparent from the heading he prefixed to the work, "Our virtues are generally only disguised vices," and from the commencement of the last maxim, "After having spoken of the falsity of so many apparent virtues," &€ The key of his system (if he had one) would seem to lie in the maxim, that "Truth does not do so much good, a Its apearances do evil, in the world." The assumption or the name of virtue is prejudicial in many ways. It opens gates suicidally on the morals of the actor, because a long course of imposition on others invariably ends in self-deceit; "We are so much accustomed to disguise ourselves to others," as our Author remarks, "that at length we disguise ourselves to ourselves." The history of the world is full of examples of men whose career is represented in these words. But this assumption is still more pernicious to the interests of virtue itself To use a common illustrator nothing depreciates a sound coinage more than the existence of well-executed counterfeits. Nothing tends so much t disgust men with goodness, as the hollowness and artificiality of what is palmed on them for goodness. Repeatedly disappointed in their search for the reality, they are led to doubt its existence, and it is this feeling which is embodied in the bitter exclamation of the despairing Roman:—" Virtue, I have worshipped thee as a real good, but at length find thee an empty name."

If the maxims can aid men to distinguish the true from the false, the sterling from the alloy, they are so far from injuring the cause of virtue that they obviously render it t most important service. It will readily be admitted also that any inquiry into the reality of virtue must go deeply into the theory of human motives. An action may be externally virtuous; but, when the motive comes to be examined, may prove to be deserving of censure rather than commendation. And it is evident that, to constitute a virtuous action a virtuous motive is absolutely necessary. "Celui," as La Bruyèreobserves, "qui loge chez soi dans un palais avec deux appartemens pour les deux saisons, vient coucher au Louvre dans un entresol, n'en use pas ainsi par modestie; et autre, qui pour conserver une taille fine s'abstient du vin et ne fait qu'un seul repas, n'est ni sobre ni tempérant; et d'un troisième, qui, importimé d'un ai]c4' pauvre, lui donne enfin quelque secours, l'on dit qu'il achète son repos et nullement qu'il est libéraL Le motif seul fait le mérite des actions des hommes, et le désintéressement y met la perfection."^[6] The last illustration will recall the parable of the unjust judge, which is familiar to every one. In these instances the result may be beneficial; but, so far as the actor is concerned, this is evidently an accidental effect to which it would be preposterous to give the name of virtue.

It is this inquiry, then, into the motives of men which La Rochefoucauld appears to have had in view in the ***Maxims," and in prosecuting this he has pointed out that a vast part of what passes in the world for virtue and goodness, is by no means genuine, but the result of meaner and more debased principles of action. He has unmasked with consummate skill the appearances of virtue so frequently put forward by men, and every one must be entertained by the exquisite subtlety of manner in which he has laid bare feelings and motives always most carefully hidden, often unacknowledged, sometimes unknown to the actors themselves. Truly he may be said to have " anatomized" man and shown what breeds about his heart. The spectacle he offers us is, it may be admitted, decidedly gloomy, and by no means gratifying to human pride; but on the other hand. La Rochefoucauld is very far from denying, as has been represented, the reality of virtue. Several of the maxims show a complete recognition of its existence, and indeed a desire that it should be freed from the odium created by the pretenders that usurp its name. The precise amount of truth which is allowed to be found in the maxims will perhaps always vary with the experience or the feelings of individual readers: but it may be remarked as strange, that any general denunciations of the depravity of human nature are almost always tacitly, if not readily, acquiesced in; but when this principle comes to be applied to particular actions, it is indignantly scouted. The Scriptures have laid down that the heart of man is "deceitful and desperately wicked;" the Church, that "man is far gone from original righteousness and has no strength of himself to turn to good works;" and that " not only do all just works, but even all holy desires, and all good counsels, proceed from God." Moralists as well as theologians have been earnest in urging this point, and would appear to have been successful, at least in theory; but when an author like La Rochefoucauld attempts to elicit the same principle from a subtle and penetrating analysis of human actions, the world seems to shrink from the practical application of the theory it had approved. The reason appears to be, that a general statement of a principle, as it concerns no one in particular, comes home to no one more than another; but a close and searching scrutiny, like that of the maxims, into the motives of particular actions, must raise an uncomfortable sensation in every breast, which is thus, made to feet its own failings. As has been acutely observed, the cause of La Rodbefoncauld's unpopularity as a moralist is that he had told every one's secret. Men have a direct interest in maintaining appearances; if they have not the virtue, they at least may " assume it," and they are naturally irritated at the dissipation of those delusions which facilitated the assumption.

It might with more speciousness be objected to the maxims that they are contrary in their tendency to the spirit of that charity which "thinketh no evil, believeth all things, and hopeth all things;" that we should be more ready to assign an action, if possible, to a good, than an evil motive, and that the low opinion of our fellow-men which we may acquire from La Rochefoucauld's observations, only tends to render our own tempers misanthropic and morose, without in any way conducing to practical morality. There may certainly appear some want of charity in any attempt to throw discredit on the motives of an action; but in practice it will be found that every well-constituted mind, in proportion as it becomes more sensible of the numerous and inherent failings of human nature, is more and more willing to make allowance for weaknesses it knows to be so difficult to remedy, for temptations which it feels are so hard to struggle with; and no longer thirsting for. impracticable perfection, will show a sincerer sympathy for the sins and errors of its fellow-mortals. To quote La Bruyère again: "Rien n'engage tant un esprit raisonnable à supporter tranquillement des parens et des amis les torts qu'ils ont à son égard, que la réflexion qu'il fait sur les vices de l'humanité, et combien il est pénib aux hommes d'être constans, généreux, fidèles, d'être touch d'une amitié plus forte que leur intérêt. Comme il cornu leur portée, il n'exige point d'eux qu'ils pénètrent les cor| qu'ils volent dans l'air, qu'ils aient de l'équité. D peut hi les hommes en général, où il 7 a si peu de vertu; mais excuse les particuliers, il les aime même par des mot plus relevés, et il s'étudie à mériter le moins qu'il se pe une pareille indulgence."* It might be sufficient, therefoi to say that the maxims are only uncharitable in appearane but that, in reality, by increasing our knowledge of hum; nature, they tend to render us more indulgent to hum weakness; that, however charity may suffer in theory fro a low idea being entertained of human nature, it gains i finitely in practice from the avoidance of that soured ai despairing temper which is caused by the reaction frc overstrained hopes and enthusiastic imaginations of goo but it may be fiirther remarked, that whoever uses t maxims merely for the object of making uncharital remarks on the conduct of others, has studied them little purpose. It is his own heart that they should tea him most to reflect upon. In his preface to the edition 1665,Segrais says,—"The best method that the reader c adopt, is at once to be convinced that not one of the mi ims is applicable to himself in particular, and that he alo is excepted, although they appear to be generally appli< ble; then I will answer for it, he will be one of the first

"He whose opinion of mankind is not too elevated, will alwa be the most benevolent, because the most indulgent to the errors ddental to human perfection; to place our nature in too flattering view is only to court disappointment and end in misanthropy."—Bi WEB Lttton. subscribe to their correctness, and to reflect credit on the human heart." The recommendation contained in this remark, may be sufficiently palatable to disguise the sneer which it involves; but it would seem more honest, and in the end more salutary, to reverse the advice^ and to recommend the reader to consider each maxim as applicable to himself only, and in no way to his neighbors. He will thus avoid any breaches of charity, and be led to the true utility of the maxims, namely, the aid they give to the extirpation of the dangerous habit of self-deceit, the habit of all others the most fatal to virtue. They can hardly fail to open the eyes of men to the various and singular modes in which self-delusion operates, the readiness with which glosses over error, the acuteness with which it discovers excuses applicable only to itself, nay, the perverse subtlety with which it would palm off its very errors as instances of virtue. No man who is thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the maxims, can pretend to that degree of mental obliquity which looks for illustrations of their working solely in the conduct of others.

Should it still be considered that La Rochefoucauld presents us with too low a view of human nature to serve the purposes of morality, it should be remembered, in his defence as an author, that the times in which he lived, and the political and moral state of the society of his day, are known to have closely corresponded with the general picture he has offered us, and in this respect may be said to afford him a complete justification.^[7] Another circumstance for which due allowance should be made, has been already hinted at, namely, that the mode of composition in detached maxims, to be at all effective, requires a generality of expression greater than is strictly warranted by reason, or is perhaps, really intended by the author. Neither is it fair as before remarked, to charge La Rochefoucauld with any deliberate system of vilifying human nature, or with any theory destructive to morality. Like Montaigne, he might plead, that he was not so much an instructor as an observer:—"Others form man; I only report him."

Controversy apart, there are many of the "Maxims,' the profundity of which will at once be admitted, and which have been enrolled as axioms in moral science; and of all it may be safely pronounced, that there is sufficient truth in them to make the work of the utmost value in it true character,—that of a record of moral observations not so much in themselves representing a theory of morals as hereafter to be used as the basis of new discoveries, and in the end of a scientific moral system. "As young men,' to use the words of Bacon, "when they knit and shape perfectly, do seldom grow to a further stature, so knowledge, while it is in aphorisms and observations, is it growth; but when it once is comprehended in exact methods, it may, perchance, be further polished and illustrated and accommodated for use and practice, but it increasetly no more in bulk and substance."

PORTRAIT

OF

THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD,

DRAWN BY HIMSELF.

(First Published in 1658.)

I am of a middling size, active and well proportioned. My complexion is dark, but sufficiently uniform; forehead high and tolerably large; eyes black, small and deep set, and eyebrows black and thick, but well arched. I should have some difficulty in describing my nose, for it is neither flat, aquiline, large, nor pointed; at least, I think not: as far as I know, it is rather large than small, and extends a trifle too low. My mouth is large; the lips sufficiently red in general, and neither well nor badly shaped. My teeth are white and tolerably even. I have been sometimes told that I have rather too much chin. I have just been examining myself in the glass to ascertain the fact; and I have not been able to make up my mind about it. As to the shape of my face, it is either square or oval; but which, it would be very difficult for me to say. My hair is black, curling naturally, and, moreover, thick enough and long enough to give me some pretensions to a fine head. In my countenance there is something sorrowful and proud, which gives many people an idea that I am contemptuous, although I am far from being so. My gestures are easy, indeed rather too much so; producing a great degree of action in discourse.

xxiv CHARACTER OF

This, I confess candidly, is what I think of my outward man ; and what I have said of myself will not, I consider, be found different from the reality. I shall endeavor to finish my portrait with the same fidelity ; for I have studied myself sufficiently to be well acquainted with myself, and shall not want assurance enough to speak openly of any good qualities I may have, nor sincerity enough frankly to acknowledge my faults. First, then, as to my temper am of a melancholy cast ; so much so that, in the course of three or four years, I have not been seen to laugh about three or four times. It seems to me, however, that i melancholy would be quite supportable, and even agreeable if it only proceeded from my constitution ; but there i so many other causes which fill my imagination with strange ideas, and take possession of my mind in so singu- lar a manner, that the greater part of my time I remain in a kind of dream, without uttering a syllable, or else I at- tach no meaning to what I do say. I am very reserved with strangers ; and I am not extremely open even with the generality of those I do know. It is a fault, I acknowl- edge ; and I vnll do every thing to correct it. But, a certain sombre cast of countenance contributes to make seem more reserved than I really am, and as it is nol our power to get rid of a disagreeable look proceeding fr the natural disposition of the features, I conceive that, ei after I shall have corrected myself within, the same I marks will, nevertheless, be always apparent outside. I am clever ; and I make no scruple of declaring it ; j why should I be delicate thereon ? Going about the bi and softening down so much the assertion of the qualil

/ I we possess is, in my way of thinking, hiding a little van / under the mask of modesty, and slyly endeavoring to mi ( ourselves appear to have more merit than the world ] Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/33 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/34 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/35 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/36 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/37 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/38 Page:Moralreflection00stangoog.djvu/39 of Cardinal Mazarin; but, afler the death of that minist he resigned it, without knowing what he was doing, a without making use of the opportunity to promote the i terests of himself and his friends. He has taken part several conclaves, and his conduct has always increased 1 reputation.

His natural bent is to indolence; nevertheless, he lalx with activity in pressing business, and reposes with indifiS ence when it is concluded. He has great presence of min and knows so well how to turn it to his own advantage all the occasions presented him by fortime, that it wot seem as if he had foreseen and desired them. He loves narrate, and seeks to dazzle all his listeners indifferent by his extraordinary adventures; and his imagination oft supplies him with more than his memory. The general! of his qualities are false; and what has most contribut to his reputation is his power of throwing a good light his faults. He is insensible alike to hatred and to friei ship, whatever pains he may be at to appear taken up y^ the one or the other. He is incapable of envy or of ayarii whether from virtue or from carelessness. He has m rowed more from his friends than a private person cou ever hope to be able to repay;—he has felt the vanity • acquiring so much on credit, and of undertaking to disdiar it. He has neither taste nor refinement; he is amused 1 every thing, and pleased by nothing. He avoids, with oo siderable address, allowing people to penetrate the slig acquaintance he has with every thing. The retreat he h just made from the world, is the most brilliant, and tl most unreal action of his life; it is a sacrifice he has ma( to his pride under pretence of devotion—^he quits the coui to which he cannot attach himself; and retires from world, which is retiring from him.

1. Dr. Swift wrote a poem of near five hundred lines upon the Maxims of Rochefoucauld, and was a long time about it. They were committed to the care of the celebrated author of "The Test;" an edition was printed in 1788, in which more than one hundred lines were omitted. Dr. King assigned many judicious reasons—though some of them were merely temporary aud prudential—for the mutilations; but they were so far from satisfying Dr. Swift, that a complete edition was immediately printed by Faulkner, with the dean's express permission.—Swift's Works, Sheridan's Edition, 19 vols., London, 1801.
2. They were first translated into English in 1689, under the title of " Seneca unmasked," by the celebrated Mrs. Aphara Behn, who calls the author the Duke of Rushfucave. The work, as is the case With all the English translations of the " Maxims," is full of faults.
3. Notwithstanding their popularity, and Voltaire's assertion that they are known by heart, the " Maxims" have been most unblushingly pillaged on almost all sides; indeed there is hardly any modern collection of thoughts or aphorisms which is not indebted to this work. A late instance may be found in the review of Baron Wessenberg's " Thoughts," by the Quarterly Review, Dec, 1848, where it appears by the extracts that the baron adopts, as his own, one of the " Maxims," (No. 89,) which is quoted with approbation, and evidently unrecognized by the reviewer. Some plagiarisms may be detected in the illustrations quoted in the ensuing pages, which, however, have not been collected for that purpose so much, as to compare the manner in which different minds have expressed themselves on similar subjects. Many other illustrations of the " Maxims" will, of course, suggest themselves, according to the various extent of individual reading.
4. M. Villemain, in his " Eloge de Montaigne," seems to insinuate that La Rochefoucauld may have been indebted to Montaigne for the idea of the style of the "Maxims:" "Dans ce genre j'oserai dire qu'il (Montaigne) a donné le plus heureux modèles d'un style dont La Rochefoucauld passe ordinairement pour le premier inventeur." La Rochefoucauld was probably under many obligations in other respects to Montaigne; but it seems difficult to select two writers more dissimilar in their mode of expressing themselves than the rambling, gossiping Montaigne and the precise, sententious La Rochefoucauld.
5. See Aristot. Rhet. book ii. c. 21.
6. Montaigne is rather more plain spoken. "We ought to love temperance for itself, and in obedience to God who has commanded it and chastity; but what I am forced to by catarrhs, or owe to the stone, is neither chastity nor temperance."
7. The writer whom La Rochefoucauld most frequently reminds us of is Tacitus, and this coincidence may suggest a strong similarity in the state of society at the respective periods which the two authors had in view.