circumstance, a story to which, as it is often mentioned, we cannot but allude, is to be referred. It is said, that Boileau when a child, being left in a garden alone by a negligent old-nurse, was attacked and thrown down by a turkey-cock, and before he was rescued received some serious injuries in the groin. Helvetius ascribes to this Boileau's detestation of turkey-cocks—of jesuits who had brought them into France—of his nurse who did not come sooner to the rescue—and of womankind, all of whom, old and young alike, he associated in imagination with the nurse and the accident. The whole course of Boileau's life, says the philosopher, but for this would have been different.
Boileau early showed talents for verse, which his family in every way they could discouraged. For awhile he studied law, and was actually admitted an avocat. He next pursued the study of theology, and was appointed to a benefice—the priory of Saint Paterne. This gave him about forty pounds a-year, which he enjoyed for eight or nine years. He, however, gave up the thought of an ecclesiastical life, and found some means of repaying the sum which he had so received. The death of Boileau's father gave him some independent means, and enabled him to indulge his genius for poetry, unfettered by the claims of a profession. Of his friendships, that with Racine gave him most pleasure, and it lasted through Racine's life. Each encouraged the other. Racine despaired of the success of Athalie. "It must succeed," said his friend, "disregard present appearances—le public y reviendra;" and when Boileau was almost overwhelmed by the storm which his satire against women evoked, Racine was near him with the comforting words—l'orage passera. In 1666 Boileau published his first satires. Boileau's poems have in the successive editions undergone so many changes, that any minute criticism on them as they first appeared would be difficult under any circumstances, and, within our limits, impossible. It is enough to say, that like those of Pope and Byron, the earlier satires seem cast in the mould of Juvenal, and that the subjects are for the most part suggested by Juvenal—to such an extent as in many parts to exhibit a brilliant translation of some of his most striking passages. In the case of Gifford, whose Baviad and Mœviad completely annihilated the writers whom he attacked, the satirist himself has wholly perished with the reputations he dragged down—the ruin alike overwhelming him and them. Boileau has been more fortunate, partly from the accident of the Chapelains, Quinaults, and Cotins whom he satirized, being not without some just claims to be remembered in the literature of their country. Boileau's "Art of Poetry" seems to us of more value, as exhibiting a far higher range of thought, than his earlier satires. In this poem he followed the example of Vida, and was emulated by Pope in the artificial ornament of imitative harmony—seeking, in Pope's language, "to make the sound an echo to the sense." In 1674 the "Lutrin" appeared, to our apprehension Boileau's best work. The general admiration of Boileau's poems led to his introduction at court. He was commanded to read some cantos of the "Lutrin" to Louis XIV. He also read to him the epistle (épitre au roi), in which the French monarch is compared to Titus. "How admirable," said the king, "Tres beau! how I would praise you if it were not me but some other that you were praising. I give you a pension of 2000 livres, and the royal privilege to print your works"—the 2000 livres was about £100 a-year—the privilege conferred a valuable copyright. He was at the same time appointed joint historiographer with Racine. This office gave him frequent access to the court. His admission to the academy was in consequence of the expressed wish of the king, yet was not obtained without some difficulty. Boileau attended with more pleasure the meetings of the Académie des Inscriptions. It would appear that at court Boileau spoke with what—if the narratives preserved be true—would seem almost rudeness, but without, however, giving offence. Of Scarron, though patronized by the queen, he courted occasions to speak contemptuously in her presence. Racine trembled, and said, "I cannot again go to court in company with you." It tells better for Boileau that when the king showed him some of his own verses—right royal lines—the poet felt compelled to tell him—"Sire, nothing is impossible to your majesty; it was your pleasure to make poor verses, and the success has been perfect." The king, on another occasion, praised bad verses—not his own—and cited the opinion of the dauphiness as confirming his view. "The king," said Boileau, "is successful in every campaign—he can storm forts and take cities; the dauphiness is an accomplished princess, but this is a subject I understand and they do not." "How insolent," said the courtiers. "He is right," said the king. Madame Maintenon, in comparing him and Racine, said—"I love Racine, he has all the simplicity of a child;—as to Boileau, the most I can do is to read him. I cannot endure his conversation—il est trap poëte." After Racine's death, Boileau ceased to go to court, though encouraged by the king, who told him he had always an hour in the week for him.
Boileau, in addition to the talents which after ages have equal opportunities with his own to estimate, possessed others more likely to render his appearance at court an agreeable thing, he excelled in mimicry; he had the power of imitating any one whom he once saw—the gait—the gestures—even the very tones of the voice, he could represent to perfection. The stories told in proof of this are scarcely credible. One is mentioned by the younger Racine in his Memoirs. Having undertaken to imitate in any gesture a person in the company, that person got up and executed a very difficult dance. Boileau succeeded in giving a perfect imitation of it, though, says Racine, he had never learned to dance. He imitated all the leading actors, on one occasion, to amuse the king. The king asked Molière, who was present, and who was one of those whom Boileau imitated, what he thought of the imitation of himself. "Of that," said Molière, "I have no way of judging but from his imitation of others; that is perfect, and I have no doubt so is the imitation of me." On all questions of poetical criticism, Boileau was regarded as a judge from whose decision there was no appeal. On questions of general literature his views were not so quietly assented to. In the controversy concerning the relative merits of the ancients and moderns, which agitated Paris more deeply than in Boileau's day, it would have been possible to stir the waters by any subject connected with political liberty. Boileau declared for the ancients, and wrote essays on Longinus in support of his opinion. In religious matters Boileau shrunk from ostentatious formalities of devotion, but he regularly attended the observances of his church. A story is told of his going to confession to a priest who did not know his person. After listening for awhile the priest asked him what was his occupation, and was surprised at being told that it was making verses. "Bad work," said the curé.—"Verses, and pray of what kind?" "Satires," said the penitent. "Worse and worse," said the priest. "And pray who are the objects of these satires." "Bad poets," said Boileau,—"bad men—bad women—playhouses—operas." "Call you this confessing your sins?" said the priest; and he dismissed the penitent to prepare another catalogue of offences. In the ecclesiastical disputes of his day, Boileau sided with the Jansenists. Of his satires by far the feeblest is that entitled "Sur l'Equivoque," which is chiefly directed against the jesuits. His latter years were passed in retirement. He refused to listen to those who would praise his verses. "I prefer," he said, "being read to being praised."
Boileau was a man of real benevolence. Hearing that a friend was in such distress as to be obliged to sell his library, he purchased the books, adding a third to the price at which they were valued, and giving the life-use of them to the former owner, who was not allowed to know to whom he owed this obligation. A conversation is recorded, in which an abbé of his acquaintance, who had several benefices, said to him, "Cela est bien bon pour vivre." "Ay," said the poet, "mais pour mourir, monsieur l'Abbé, pour mourir." Hearing that Corneille's pension was withdrawn, he instantly tendered the resignation of his own, saying that were Corneille's cancelled he could not receive one without a feeling of shame. He was fond, it is said, of quoting any passage of merit in the writers whom he had most ridiculed in his satires. It seems strange that he saw nothing to admire in Scarron, whom he seems to have felt an almost insane hatred to; still more strange, that he was insensible to the graces of La Fontaine, if, indeed, this assertion repeatedly made be true. We doubt it. La Fontaine is mentioned by him together with Molière, whom he admired more than any other man of the period. That he is not mentioned in the "Art Poetique" is the great offence as charged in the indictment of the French critics. The publication of the Fables and of his Art of Poetry were, it should be remembered, almost contemporaneous, and though the Fables were published some short time before Boileau's poem, it is not improbable that his poem was the first written. In the parts of Boileau's works where La Fontaine is mentioned, the praise is earnest and cordial.
