No More Learning

Thus I discourse with myself, and of all my surroundings,
Sky and earth, endless and splendid,
With all their offspring unnumbered;
Of all their relations and movements,
Of all things celestial, terrestrial,
Sweeping on still, without resting,
Ever returning to fill their places appointed.
Of all things, no purpose,
No real fruit can I see.
But thou at least, maiden immortal, thou
Knowest all things.


## p. 8983 (#615) ###########################################

GIACOMO LEOPARDI
8983
This thing I know, and I feel it:
That out of this endless motion,
Out of this frail human nature,
Some slight good and contentment
Others may get, perchance; to me our life is but evil.
O flock of mine, at rest here! O happy creatures,
That know not your fate, I believe you unconscious of sorrow!
What envy to you I bear!
Not only that even of suff'ring
Almost unheeding ye go,—
That hunger or terror
Seizing upon you, is ever as swiftly forgotten, -
But still more because tedium never o'ertakes you.
And when ye rest in the shade on sweet grasses,
Content and quiet bide with you.
Had I wings like a bird, peradventure,
To bear me on high through the heavens,
And one by one to number the planets,
Or, like the thunder, leap from one peak to another,
Happier I'd be, sweet my flock,
Happier I'd be, fairest moon.
Perchance, though, my wandering fancy
Strays from the truth, in dreaming of fortunes not mine.
Perchance in every fate, in every form,
Whether within the cradle or the fold,
To all the fatal day is that of birth.
Translation of Katharine Hillard.


## p. 8984 (#616) ###########################################

8984
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
(1668-1747)
BY JANE GROSVENOR COOKE
N FRANCE the seventeenth century was a time of dreams.
Imagination reveled in the grotesque and fantastic, and
craved the exuberant sentiment, the ideal emotion, expressed
in the romances of d'Urfé and Madame de La Fayette. Toward the
end of the century this mood was followed by reaction. People
stopped dreaming to study the real life before their eyes; and litera-
ture reflected the change. The first great realist in fiction was Alain
Le Sage.
Le Sage was a sturdy, self-willed Breton, with keen interest in
human affairs, and more than usual skill in drawing conclusions from
them. He was an optimist, taught by experience to distrust men's
motives. Left an orphan at fourteen, under guardianship of an
uncle who squandered his small patrimony, he accepted poverty with
characteristic cheerfulness. His seems to have been a sensible, con-
trolled nature, with slight inclination towards irregular ways. At
twenty-six he married a pretty girl of the bourgeoisie, went to writing,
and was the first Frenchman to earn a living by authorship.
Unlike the authors who preceded him, this honest bourgeois had
no powerful patronage to insure his success. He knew little of court
and salon, depended on his own exertions, and hence experienced
many disappointments before he found his place. His need of money
forced him to inferior production, and much of his work is now
valueless.
He had studied law; but Antoine Danchet a successful young
dramatist, and his chum and fellow-student of the Quartier Latin
urged him to write. Undoubtedly he liked the suggestion, although
his was
no evident vocation nor immediate success. His early at-
tempts were pot-boilers, efforts toward self-discovery; and the first-
a translation from the Greek, Letters of Aristænetus)
a failure.
But he was warmly encouraged by the Abbé de Lyonne,- eccentric
drinker of twenty-two daily pints of Seine water, and probable original
of the Sangrado of Gil Blas. ' He took Le Sage under his protec-
tion; made his perseverance in authorship possible by bestowing upon
him a pension of six hundred livres; and is said to have interested
)


## p. 8984 (#617) ###########################################

:

1


## p. 8984 (#618) ###########################################

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. .
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i mix hentaimani is Sática to fare istot
7,3111"


## p. 8984 (#619) ###########################################


LE SAGE.


## p. 8984 (#620) ###########################################



## p. 8985 (#621) ###########################################

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
8985
him in Spanish literature, to which he may also have been attracted
by the fact that his wife's mother was a Spaniard. For years he
groped on, translating Spanish plays and stories, - unoriginal plodder.
Le Sage was curiously unambitious. His aspirations never seem
to have been of a highly emotional order, and he had no kinship
with the exalted sentiment of French classic drama and romance.
Sainte-Beuve calls him a man without any ideality; but it is truer to
define his ideal as the rule of good sense. He scorned to affect emo-
tion which he ignored, and was quick to detect and expose social
hypocrisies. Kindly in spite of many disillusions, he is the genius
of the commonplace; picturing with humorous satire and dramatic
force the actuating sentiments of ordinary men and women.
He required the stimulus of outside suggestion; and like Shake-
speare, loved to transform a ready-made tale. The plot and scene
remain Spanish, like the originals from which he borrowed; the atmo-
sphere and characterization are French.
When nearly forty he won his first brilliant success with two
dramas,— Crispin Rival de son Maître,' and Don César Ursin,'—
which were played upon one occasion at the Théâtre Français. The
first was a lively improbable one-act lever de rideau, in which a valet
in masquerade courts his master's daughter. The audience applauded
it enthusiastically, but were indifferent to the longer play. Oddly
enough, the situation was reversed at Versailles, where Don César
succeeded and the lever de rideau failed. The Parisians had shown
the keener judgment, for "Crispin' has become a classic.
(Turcaret,' his one great drama, was refused by the Théâtre
Français under its first title, Les Étrennes'; but when remodeled
introduced a daring innovation in stage tradition. Turcaret, shrewd
and unscrupulous, has made money as a government contractor and
come to Paris to enjoy it, ordering his countrified wife to remain at
home. He falls in love with a baroness, who flatters and fleeces him
and promptly bestows his gifts upon a younger lover. The valets
and grisettes flatter their master's foibles, pilfer when they can, and
better their condition by all clever knavery. The keen exposure of
human pettiness ends in the discomfiture of the vulgar hero. His
low-bred wife claims him at an evening reception; his coarse-grained
sister comes to sell finery to the baroness; he is swindled out of his
ill-gotten wealth and bundled off to prison. In the period of the
Spanish war, this typical portrayal of a class whose unscrupulous
dealings stirred up wrath and fear was even more daring than the
realism of Le Sage's great predecessor, Molière. For a time the play
was in danger of suppression, which it only escaped through the
intervention of royal authority. Even then the ridiculed class reviled
it hotly, hired men to hiss it down, and offered the author large
>


## p. 8986 (#622) ###########################################

8986
ALAIN RENE LE SAGE
bribes for its withdrawal: an opposition which only determined Le
Sage to continue it.
In spite of this success, he did not go on producing regular drama,
but devoted himself to the more profitable work of writing little
plays and operettas to be acted out of doors at the fairs of Paris.
These pièces de la foire, given in booths set up along the streets,
attracted a humbler audience, which received his satire more cor-
dially and offered him more certain recompense than the regular
theatres. In one of these plays he introduced a woman doctor; and
the idea of such an anomaly was greatly enjoyed as an impossible
burlesque.
His first noteworthy story, Le Diable Boiteux,'— founded on the
Spanish (Diablo Cojuelo' of Guevara, to whom it was dedicated,
appeared in 1707, and was the most immediately popular of Le Sage's
works. The spirit, liberated from a bottle in a magician's laboratory,
entertains his rescuer with the secret sights of a great city at night;
and unroofing the buildings, explains the sufferings, transports, and
agitations revealed. On this thread of story is strung a succession of
vivid satiric little dramas. Often compared with "Les Caractères of
La Bruyère in general idea, Le Diable' has greater continuity; for
while the foriner is a series of detached sketches, the latter continu-
ally recalls the interest to a central plot.
English readers know Le Sage best from his great novel, Gil
Blas,' over which he worked for more than twenty years. After a
long and bitter controversy as to his indebtedness to Spanish liter-
ature, the idea of a romance of which (Gil Blas) is a translation was
disproved. The central idea is Spanish, as often in his work; the
development his own.
Le Sage had no exalted opinion of reason as a controlling power;
but regarded a human being as an impressionable mass, capable of
recording and of being transformed by sensation. Gil Blas, the young
Spaniard who starts out to seek his fortune, is not remarkable for
vice or virtue. He is a shrewd, good-hearted youth, easily influenced
by his surroundings. But the power of good is impressed upon him
without conscious moralizing; and in middle life, after many follies
and mistakes, he becomes a staid, trustworthy citizen. He tells the
story of his adventures with witty candor and good-humor. He is a
shifty politic fellow, with a racquet for every ball. ” When he hears
of a relative whom he had never met — «Yet nature will prevail: as
soon as I had heard that he was in a fair way, I was tempted to call
upon him. ” While a valet, Gil Blas finds it necessary to leave his
place at short notice. "I made a bundle of my own goods, incident-
ally slipping in some odd articles belonging to my master. ”
He is
a knave certainly, but never a serious villain. Society, he finds, is


## p. 8987 (#623) ###########################################

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
8987
composed of people who live by their wits, and who think a great
deal about good things to eat and drink. So he scrambles with the
others. In the four volumes of Gil Blas's adventures, with the long
digressions about his acquaintances, there is no more plot than in a
man's life. There is no preaching. Yet the effect is of unity, and
the tale as moral as experience itself. ”
The distinctive quality of Le Sage is unprejudiced exposition.
“My purpose was to represent human life historically as it exists,"
he says in the preface to Gil Blas. «God forbid I should hold myself
out as a portrait-painter. Nevertheless he is a portrait-painter, seiz-
”
ing the outward visible fact with little psychological effort. His is
the hearty spontaneity of the simple story-teller.
In spite of his love of Spanish models, Le Sage breaks away from
the popular picaresque literature,- sensational tales recording the suc-
cess of low-born, witty rogues. He represents plenty of knavery; but
after all, Gil Blas finds honesty the best policy.
The work of Le Sage marks the transition from the spirit of the
seventeenth to that of the eighteenth century. In his large and gen-
eral view of life, of society en masse, and in his taste for foreign lit-
erature, he belongs to the seventeenth century. But his realism is
more modern; and in his lack of conscious moral motive, and in his
fatalistic acceptance of the conditions of human life, a grain of Vol-
tairean unbelief is already germinating:
Curiously enough, Le Sage exercised more influence abroad than
at home. Before his fellow-countrymen had learned to appreciate
him, Smollett had translated Gil Blas into English; and it had become
the model after which Fielding and his contemporaries sought to
shape the English novel.
The great charm of Le Sage lies in the strong and rapid style of
his witty narration. Occasionally he shows an appreciation of nature,
but his interest in life is almost wholly social. Whatever he has to
say is expressed with characteristic grace and strength. The words
are so ready and so apt, the phrase so just yet easy, the whole effect
so animated, that in his instinctive pleasure the reader hardly realizes
the great literary skill which created this masterpiece of precise and
vigorous French.
a!
11
Jane Grovrenn Cooke
.


## p. 8988 (#624) ###########################################

8988
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
GIL BLAS ENTERS THE SERVICE OF DR. SANGRADO
From (Gil Blas)
I
»
»
»
eases.
DETERMINED to throw myself in the way of Sigñor Arias de
Londona, and to look out for a new berth in his register; but
as I was on my way to No Thoroughfare, who should come
across me but Doctor Sangrado, whom I had not seen since the
day of my master's death. I took the liberty of touching my
hat. He kenned me in a twinkling, though I had changed my
dress; and with as much warmth as his temperament would
allow him, “Heyday! ” said he, “the very lad I wanted to see;
you have never been out of my thought. I have occasion for a
clever fellow about me, and pitched upon you as the very thing,
if you can read and write. ” “Sir," replied I, “if that is all you
require, I am your man. " “In that case,” rejoined he, “we
need look no further. Come home with me: it will be all com-
fort; I shall behave to you like a brother. You will have no
wages, but everything will be found you. You shall eat and
drink according to the true faith, and be taught to cure all dis-
In a word, you shall rather be my young Sangrado than
my footman. »
I closed in with the doctor's proposal, in the hope of becom-
ing an Esculapius under so inspired a master. He carried me
home on the spur of the occasion, to install me in my honorable
employment; which honorable employment consisted in writing
down the name and residence of the patients who sent for him
in his absence. There had indeed been a register for this pur-
pose, kept by an old domestic; but she had not the gift of spell-
ing accurately, and wrote a most perplexing hand. This account
I was to keep. It might truly be called a bill of mortality; for
my members all went from bad to worse during the short time
they continued in this system. I was a sort of bookkeeper for
the other world, to take places in the stage, and to see that the
first come were the first served. My pen was always in my
hand, for Doctor Sangrado had more practice than any physician
of his time in Valladolid. He had got into reputation with the
public by a certain professional slang, humored by a medical face,
and some extraordinary cases more honored by implicit faith than
scrupulous investigation.
He was in no want of patients, nor consequently of property.
He did not keep the best house in the world: we lived with some


## p. 8989 (#625) ###########################################

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
8989
»
>
little attention to economy. The usual bill of fare consisted of
peas, beans, boiled apples or cheese. He considered this food as
best suited to the human stomach; that is to say, as most ame-
nable to the grinders, whence it was to encounter the process of
digestion. Nevertheless, easy as was their passage, he was not
for stopping the way with too much of them; and to be sure,
he was in the right. But though he cautioned the maid and me
against repletion in respect of solids, it was made up by free per-
mission to drink as much water as we liked. Far from prescrib-
ing us any limits in that direction, he would tell us sometimes:
"Drink, my children: health consists in the pliability and moisture
of the parts. Drink water by pailfuls: it is a universal dissolv.
ent; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of the blood a
little sluggish ? this grand principle sets it forward: too rapid ?
its career is checked. ” Our doctor was so orthodox on this head
that though advanced in years, he drank nothing himself but
water. He defined old age to be a natural consumption which
dries us up and wastes us away: on this principle he deplored
the ignorance of those who call wine “old men's milk. ” He
maintained that wine wears them out and corrodes them; and
pleaded with all the force of his eloquence against that liquor,
fatal in common both to the young and old,- that friend with
a serpent in its bosom, - that pleasure with a dagger under its
girdle.
In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week a loose-
ness ensued, with some twinges, which I was blasphemous enough
to saddle on the universal dissolvent and the new-fangled diet.
I stated my symptoms to my master, in the hope that he would
relax the rigor of his regimen and qualify my meals with a
little wine; but his hostility to that liquor was inflexible. If
you have not philosophy enough,” said he, «for pure water, there
are innocent infusions to strengthen the stomach against the nau-
sea of aqueous quaffings. Sage, for example, has a very pretty
flavor; and if you wish to heighten it into a debauch, it is only
mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples with it, but no
compounds. ”
In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of
composing delicious messes, I was so abstemious that, remark-
ing my moderation, he said:— "In good sooth, Gil Blas, I mar-
vel not that you are no better than you are: you do not drink
enough, my friend. Water taken in a small quantity serves only
-
«


## p. 8990 (#626) ###########################################

8990
ALAIN-RENÉ LE SAGE
to separate the particles of bile and set them in action; but our
practice is to drown them in a copious drench. Fear not, my
good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid should either weaken
or chill your stomach; far from thy better judgment be that silly
fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you against all conse-
quences; and if my authority will not serve your turn, read Cel-
sus. That oracle of the ancients makes an admirable panegyric
on water; in short, he says in plain terms that those who plead
an inconstant stomach in favor of wine, publish a libel on their
own viscera, and make their constitution a pretense for their
sensuality. ”
As it would have been ungenteel in me to run riot on my
entrance into the career of practice, I affected thorough con-
viction; indeed I thought there was something in it. I therefore
went on drinking water on the authority of Celsus, or to speak
in scientific terms, I began to drown the bile in copious drenches
of that unadulterated liquor; and though I felt myself more out
of order from day to day, prejudice won the cause against expe-
rience. It is evident therefore that I was in the right road to
the practice of physic. Yet I could not always be insensible
to the qualms which increased in my frame, to that degree as
to determine me on quitting Doctor Sangrado. But he invested
me with a new office which changed my tone.
“Hark you, my
child,” said he to me one day: "I am not one of those hard and
ungrateful masters, who leave their household to grow gray in
service without a suitable reward. I am well pleased with you,
I have a regard for you; and without waiting till you have
served your time, I will make your fortune. Without more ado,
I will initiate you in the healing art, of which I have for so
many years been at the head. Other physicians make the science
to consist of various unintelligible branches; but I will shorten
the road for you, and dispense with the drudgery of studying
natural philosophy, pharmacy, botany, and anatomy.
Remember,
my friend, that bleeding and drinking warm water are the two
grand principles, — the true secret of curing all the distempers
incident to humanity. Yes, this marvelous secret which I reveal
to you, and which Nature, beyond the reach of my colleagues,
has failed in rescuing from my pen, is comprehended in these
two articles; namely, bleeding and drenching. Here you have
the sum total of my philosophy; you are thoroughly bottomed in
medicine, and may raise yourself to the summit of fame on the
(


## p. 8991 (#627) ###########################################

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
8991
>>
shoulders of my long experience. You may enter into partner-
ship at once, by keeping the books in the morning and going
out to visit patients in the afternoon. While I dose the nobility
I
and clergy, you shall labor in your vocation among the lower
orders; and when you have felt your ground a little, I will get
you admitted into our body. You are a philosopher, Gil Blas,
though you have never graduated; the common herd of them,
though they have graduated in due form and order, are likely to
run out the length of their tether without knowing their right
hand from their left. »
I thanked the doctor for having so speedily enabled me to
serve as his deputy; and by way of acknowledging his goodness,
promised to follow his system to the end of my career, with a
magnanimous indifference about the aphorisms of Hippocrates.
But that engagement was not to be taken to the letter. This
tender attachment to water went against the grain, and I had a
scheme for drinking wine every day snugly among the patients.
I left off wearing my own suit a second time, to take up one
of my master's and look like an experienced practitioner. After
which I brought my medical theories into play, leaving those it
might concern to look to the event. I began on an alguazil
in a pleurisy; he was condemned to be bled with the utmost
rigor of the law, at the same time that the system was to be
replenished copiously with water. Next I made a lodgment in
the veins of a gouty pastry-cook, who roared like a lion by rea-
son of gouty spasms.
I stood on
more ceremony with his
blood than with that of the alguazil, and laid no restriction on
his taste for simple liquids. My prescriptions brought me in
twelve rials: an incident so auspicious in my professional career,
that I only wished for the plagues of Egypt on all the hale sub-
jects of Valladolid.
I was no sooner at home than Doctor Sangrado came in. I
talked to him about the patients I had seen, and paid into his
hands eight remaining rials of the twelve I had received for my
prescriptions.
“Eight rials! ” said he, as he counted them: “mighty little for
two visits! But we must take things as we find them. ” In the
spirit of taking things as he found them, he laid violent hands
on six, giving me the other two. "Here, Gil Blas,” continued
he, “see what a foundation to build upon. I make over to you
the fourth of all you may bring me.
You will soon feather your
no
1.
>


## p. 8992 (#628) ###########################################

8992
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
I was
nest, my friend; for by the blessing of Providence, there will be
a great deal of ill health this year. "
I had reason to be content with my dividend; since, having
determined to keep back the third part of what I received in my
rounds, and afterwards touching another fourth of the remain-
der,- then half of the whole, if arithmetic is anything more
than a deception, would become my perquisite. This inspired me
with new zeal for my profession. The next day, as soon as I
had dined, I resumed my medical paraphernalia and took the
field once more. I visited several patients on the list, and
treated their several complaints in one invariable routine. Hith-
erto things went on under the rose; and no individual, thank
Heaven, had risen up in rebellion against my prescriptions. But
let a physician's cures be as extraordinary as they will, some
quack or other is always ready to rip up his reputation.
called in to a grocer's son in a dropsy. Whom should I find
there before me but a little. black-looking physician, by name
Doctor Cuchillo, introduced by a relation of the family. I bowed
round most profoundly, but dipped lowest to the personage whom
I took to have been invited to a consultation with me.
He re-
turned my compliment with a distant air; then, having stared
me in the face for a few seconds, -"Signor Doctor,” said he, "I
beg pardon for being inquisitive: I thought I was acquainted
with all my brethren in Valladolid, but I confess your physi-
ognomy is altogether new. You must have been settled but a
short time in town. ” I avowed myself a young practitioner, act-
ing as yet under the direction of Doctor Sangrado. "I wish you
joy,” replied he politely: "you are studying under a great man.
You must doubtless have seen a vast deal of sound practice,
young as you appear to be. ” He spoke this with so easy an
assurance that I was at a loss whether he meant it seriously,
was laughing at me. While I was conning over my reply,
the grocer, seizing on the opportunity, said, “Gentlemen, I am
persuaded of your both being perfectly competent in your
art: have the goodness without ado to take the case in hand,
and devise some effectual means
for the restoration of my
son's health. ”
Thereupon the little pulse-counter set himself about reviewing
the patient's situation; and after having dilated to me on all the
symptoms, asked me what I thought the fittest method of treat-
ment. "I am of opinion,” replied I, “that he should be bled
»
or
(


## p. 8993 (#629) ###########################################

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
8993
1
»
(
>
once a day, and drink as much warm water as he can swallow. ”
At these words, our diminutive doctor said to me, with a ma-
licious simper, "And so you think such a course will save the
patient ? »
“Not a doubt of it,” exclaimed I in a confident tone:
"it must produce that effect, because it is a certain method of
cure for all distempers. Ask Signor Sangrado. ” "At that rate,”
retorted he, "Celsus is altogether in the wrong; for he contends
that the readiest way to cure a dropsical subject is to let him
almost die of hunger and thirst. ” “Oh, as for Celsus,” inter-
rupted I, “he is no oracle of mine; as fallible as the meanest of
us: I often have occasion to bless myself for going contrary to
his dogmas. ” I discover by your language,” said Cuchillo, the
safe and sure method of practice Doctor Sangrado instills into his
pupils. Bleeding and drenching are the extent of his resources.
No wonder so many worthy people are cut off under his direc-
tion. ” — “No defamation! ” interrupted I with some acrimony:
“a member of the faculty had better not begin throwing stones.
Come, come, my learned doctor, patients can get to the other
world without bleeding and warm water; and I question whether
the most deadly of us has ever signed more passports than your-
self. If you have any crow to pluck with Signor Sangrado, write
against him; he will answer you, and we shall soon see who will
have the best of the battle. ” “By all the saints in the calendar! ”
swore he in a transport of passion, you little know whom you
are talking to. I have a tongue and a fist, my friend; and am
not afraid of Sangrado, who with all his arrogance and affecta-
tion is but a ninny. ” The size of the little death-dealer made
me hold his anger cheap. I gave him a sharp retort; he sent
back as good as I brought, till at last we came to cuffs. We had
pulled a few handfuls of hair from each other's head before the
grocer and his kinsman could part us. When they had brought
this about, they fee'd me for my attendance, and retained my
antagonist, whom they thought the more skillful of the two.
Another adventure succeeded close on the heels of this. I
went to see a huge chanter in a fever. As soon as he heard me
talk of warm water, he showed himself so averse to this specific
as to fall into a fit of swearing. He abused me in all possible
shapes, and threatened to throw me out at window. I was in a
greater hurry to get out of his house than to get in. I did not
choose to see any more patients that day, and repaired to the
inn where I had agreed to meet Fabricio. He was there first.
(
1
XV-563


## p. 8994 (#630) ###########################################

8994
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
As we found ourselves in a tippling humor, we drank hard, and
returned to our employers in a pretty pickle; that is to say, so-so
in the upper story. Signor Sangrado was not aware of my being
drunk, because he took the lively gestures which accompanied
the relation of my quarrel with the little doctor for an effect of
the agitation not yet subsided after the battle. Besides, he came
in for his share in my report; and feeling himself nettled by
Cuchillo, «You have done well, Gil Blas,” said he, to defend
the character of our practice against this little abortion of the
faculty. So he takes upon him to set his face against watery
drenches in dropsical cases ? An ignorant fellow! I maintain, I
do, in my own person, that the use of them may be reconciled
to the best theories. Yes, water is a cure for all sorts of drop-
sies, just as it is good for rheumatisms and the green-sickness.
It is excellent, too, in those fevers where the effect is at once
to parch and to chill; and even miraculous in those disorders
ascribed to cold, thin, phlegmatic, and pituitous humors. This
opinion may appear strange to young practitioners like Cuchillo,
but it is right orthodox in the best and soundest systems; so
that if persons of that description were capable of taking a
philosophical view, instead of crying me down they would become
my most zealous advocates. "
In his rage, he never suspected me of drinking: for to ex-
asperate him still more against the little doctor, I had thrown
into my recital some circumstances of my own addition. Yet
engrossed as he was by what I had told him, he could not help
taking notice that I drank more water than usual that evening.
In fact, the wine had made me very thirsty. Any one but
Sangrado would have distrusted my being so very dry as to
swallow down glass after glass; but as for him, he took it for
granted in the simplicity of his heart that I began to acquire
a relish for aqueous potations. "Apparently, Gil Blas,” said he,
with a gracious smile, you have no longer such a dislike to
water. As Heaven is my judge, you quaff it off like nectar! It
is no wonder, my friend; I was certain you would take a liking
to that liquor. ” “Sir,” replied I, there is a tide in the affairs
of men: with my present lights I would give all the wine in
Valladolid for a pint of water. ” This answer delighted the
doctor, who would not lose so fine an opportunity of expatiating
on the excellence of water. He undertook to ring the changes
once more in its praise; not like a hireling pleader, but as an


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a
enthusiast in the cause. "A thousand times,” exclaimed he, a
thousand and a thousand times of greater value, as being more
innocent than our modern taverns, were those baths of ages past,
whither the people went, not shamefully to squander their for-
tunes and expose their lives by swilling themselves with wine, but
assembled there for the decent and economical amusement of
drinking warm water. It is difficult to admire enough the patri.
otic forecast of those ancient politicians who established places of
public resort where water was dealt out gratis to all comers, and
who confined wine to the shops of the apothecaries, that its use
might be prohibited save under the direction of physicians. What
a stroke of wisdom! It is doubtless to preserve the seeds of
that antique frugality, emblematic of the golden age, that persons
are found to this day, like you and me, who drink nothing but
water, and are persuaded they possess a prevention or a cure for
every ailment, provided our warm water has never boiled; for I
have observed that water when it is boiled is heavier, and sits
less easily on the stomach. ”
While he was holding forth thus eloquently, I was in danger
more than once of splitting my sides with laughing. But I con-
trived to keep my countenance; nay, more, to chime in with the
doctor's theory. I found fault with the use of wine, and pitied
mankind for having contracted an untoward relish for so perni-
cious a beverage. Then, finding my thirst not sufficiently allayed,
I filled a large goblet with water, and after having swilled it like
a horse, –“Come, sir,” said I to my master, let us drink plen-
tifully of this beneficial liquor. Let us make those early estab-
lishments of dilution you so much regret, live again in your
house. " He clapped his hands in ecstasy at these words, and
preached to me for a whole hour about suffering no liquid but
water to pass my lips. To confirm the habit, I promised to
drink a large quantity every evening; and to keep my word with
less violence to my private inclinations, I went to bed with a
determined purpose of going to the tavern every day.
:


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GIL BLAS BECOMES THE ARCHBISHOP'S FAVORITE, AND THE
CHANNEL OF ALL HIS FAVORS
From (Gil Blas)
I
HAD been after dinner to get together my baggage, and take
my horse from the inn where I had put up; and afterwards
returned to supper at the archbishop's palace, where a neatly
furnished room was got ready for me, and such a bed as was
more likely to pamper than to mortify the flesh. The day fol- .
lowing, his Grace sent for me quite as soon as I was ready to go
to him. It was to give me a homily to transcribe. He made a
point of having it copied with all possible accuracy. It was done
to please him; for I omitted neither accent, nor comma, nor the
minutest tittle of all he had marked down. His satisfaction at
observing this was heightened by its being unexpected. “Eternal
Father! ” exclaimed he in a holy rapture, when he had glanced
his eye over all the folios of my copy, was ever anything seen
So correct? You are too good a transcriber not to have some
little smattering of the grammarian. Now tell me with the free-
dom of a friend: in writing it over, have you been struck with
nothing that grated upon your feelings? Some little careless
idiom, or some word used in an improper sense ? ” “Oh, may it
please your Grace," answered I with a modest air, “it is not for
me, with my confined education and coarse taste, to aim at mak-
ing critical remarks. And though ever
And though ever so well qualified, I am
satisfied that your Grace's works would come out pure from the
essay. ”
The successor of the Apostles smiled at my answer.
He made no observation on it; but it was easy to see through all
his piety that he was an arrant author at the bottom: there is
something in that dye that not heaven itself can wash out.
I seemed to have purchased the fee simple of his good graces
by my flattery. Day after day did I get a step farther in his
esteem; and Don Ferdinand, who came to see him very often,
told me my footing was so firm that there could not be a doubt
but my fortune was made. Of this my master himself gave me
a proof some little time afterwards; and the occasion was as fol.
lows:- One evening in his closet he rehearsed before me, with
appropriate emphasis and action, a homily which he was to deliver
the next day in the cathedral. He did not content himself with
asking me what I thought of it in the gross, but insisted on my


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telling him what passages struck me most. I had the good for-
tune to pick out those which were nearest to his own taste,-his
favorite commonplaces. Thus, as luck would have it, I passed in
his estimation for a man who had a quick and natural relish of
the real and less obvious beauties in a work. «This indeed,"
exclaimed he, is what you may call having discernment and
feeling in perfection! Well, well, my friend! it cannot be said of
you,
Bæotum in crasso jurares aëre natum. ) »*
In a word, he was so highly pleased with me as to add in a
tone of extraordinary emotion, “Never mind, Gil Blas! hencefor-
ward take no care about hereafter: I shall make it my business
to please you among the favored children of my bounty. You
have my best wishes; and to prove to you that you have them, I
shall take you into my inmost confidence. ”
These words were no sooner out of his mouth, than I fell at
his Grace's feet, quite overwhelmed with gratitude. I embraced
his elliptical legs with almost pagan idolatry, and considered
myself as a man on the high-road to a very handsome fortune.
« Yes, my child,” resumed the archbishop, whose speech had been
cut short by the rapidity of my prostration, "I mean to make
you the receiver-general of all my inmost ruminations. Hearken
attentively to what I am going to say. I have a great pleasure
.
in preaching. The Lord sheds a blessing on my homilies; they
sink deep into the hearts of sinners; set up a glass in which vice
sees its own image, and bring back many from the paths of error
into the high-road of repentance. What a heavenly sight, when
a miser, scared at the hideous picture of his avarice drawn by my
eloquence, opens his coffers to the poor and needy, and dispenses
the accumulated store with a liberal hand! The voluptuary too
is snatched from the pleasures of the table; ambition flies at my
command to the wholesome discipline of the monastic cell; while
female frailty, tottering on the brink of ruin, with one ear open
to the siren voice of the seducer and the other to my saintly
correctives, is restored to domestic happiness and the approving
smile of heaven, by the timely warnings of the pulpit. These
miraculous conversions, which happen almost every Sunday,
ought of themselves to goad me on in the career of saving souls.
Nevertheless, to conceal no part of my weakness from my mon-
itor, there is another reward on which my heart is intent,- a
1
1
1
!
!
.
1
* «You would have sworn he was born in the wit-dulling air of Bæotia. )


## p. 8998 (#634) ###########################################

8998
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
»
reward which the seraphic scrupulousness of my virtue to little
purpose condemns as too carnal,-- a literary reputation for a sub-
lime and elegant style. The honor of being handed down to
posterity as a perfect pulpit orator has its irresistible attractions.
My compositions are generally thought to be equally powerful and
persuasive; but I could wish of all things to steer clear of the
rock on which good authors split who are too long before the
public, and to retire from professional life with my reputation in
undiminished lustre. To this end, my dear Gil Blas, continued
the prelate, “there is one thing requisite from your zeal and
friendship. Whenever it shall strike you that my pen begins to
contract, as it were, the ossification of old age, whenever you see
my genius in its climacteric, do not fail to give me a hint. There
is no trusting to one's self in such a case: pride and conceit were
the original sin of man. The probe of criticism must be intrusted
to an impartial stander-by, of fine talents and unshaken probity.
Both those requisites centre in you: you are my choice, and I
give myself up to your direction. ”_"Heaven be praised, my
lord,” said I, “there is no need to trouble yourself with any such
thoughts yet. Besides, an understanding of your Grace's mold and
calibre will last out double the time of a common genius; or to
speak with more certainty and truth, it will never be the worse
for wear, if you live to the age of Methusalem.
I consider you
as a second Cardinal Ximenes, whose powers, superior to decay,
instead of flagging with years seemed to derive new vigor from
their approximation with the heavenly regions. ” “No flattery,
my friend! ” interrupted he. “I know myself to be in danger
of failing all at once. At my age one begins to be sensible of
infirmities, and those of the body communicate with the mind.
I repeat it to you, Gil Blas, as soon as you shall be of opinion
that my head is not so clear as usual, give me warning of it
instantly. Do not be afraid of offending by frankness and sincer-
ity: to put me in mind of my own frailty will be the strongest
proof of your affection for me. Besides, your very interest is
concerned in it; for if it should, by any spite of chance towards
you, come to my ears that the people say in town, His Grace's
sermons produce no longer their accustomed impression; it is
time for him to abandon his pulpit to younger candidates,' -
I do assure you, most seriously and solemnly, you will lose not
only my friendship, but the provision for life that I have prom-
ised you. Such will be the result of your silly tampering with
truth. ”
»


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no
Here my patron left off to wait for my answer, which was an
echo of his speech, and a promise of obeying him in all things.
From that moment there were no secrets from me; I became the
prime favorite. All the household, except Melchior de la Ronda,
looked at me with an eye of envy. It was curious to observe
the manner in which the whole establishment, from the highest
to the lowest, thought it necessary to demean themselves towards
his Grace's confidential secretary; there was meanness to
which they would not stoop to curry favor with me: I could
scarcely believe they were Spaniards. I left no stone unturned
to be of service to them, without being taken in by their inter-
ested assiduities.
Two months after this worthy gentleman had left us, in the
luxuriant harvest of my highest favor, a lowering storm came
suddenly over the episcopal palace: the archbishop had a stroke
of apoplexy. By dint of immediate applications and good nurs-
ing, in a few days there was no bodily appearance of disease
remaining. But his reverend intellects did not so easily recover
from their lethargy. I could not help observing it to myself in
the very first discourse that he composed. Yet there was not
such a wide gap between the merits of the present and the
former ones as to warrant the inference that the sun of oratory
was many degrees advanced in its post-meridian course. A
second homily was worth waiting for, because that would clearly
determine the line of my conduct. Alas, and well-a-day! when
that second homily came, it was a knock-down argument. Some-
times the good prelate moved forward, and sometimes he moved
backward; sometimes he mounted up into the garret, and some-
times dipped down into the cellar. It was a composition of more
.
sound than meaning; something like a superannuated schoolmas-
ter's theme when he attempts to give his boys more sense than
he possesses of his own, or like a capuchin's sermon which only
scatters a few artificial flowers of paltry rhetoric over a barren
desert of doctrine.
I was not the only person whom the alteration struck. The
audience at large, when he delivered it, as if they too had been
pledged to watch the advances of dotage, said to one another in a
whisper all around the church, “Here is a sermon with symp-
toms of apoplexy in every paragraph. ” Come, my good Cory-
phæus of the public taste in homilies,” said I then to myself,
prepare to do your office. You see that my lord archbishop is
going very fast, - you ought to warn him of it, not only as his
(


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9000
ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE
bosom friend on whose sincerity he relies, but lest some blunt
fellow should anticipate you and bolt out the truth in an offens-
ive manner; in that case you know the consequence: you would
be struck out of his will, where, no doubt, you have a more
convertible bequest than the licentiate Sedillo's library. ”
But as reason, like Janus, looks at things with two faces, I
began to consider the other side of the question: the hint seemed
difficult to wrap up so as to make it palatable. Authors in gen-
eral are stark mad on the subject of their own works, and such
an author might be more testy than the common herd of the
irritable race; but that suspicion seemed illiberal on my part,
for it was impossible that my freedom should be taken amiss
when it had been forced upon me by so positive an injunction.
Add to this, that I reckoned upon handling the subject skillfully,
and cramming discretion down his throat like a high-seasoned
epicurean dish. After all my pro and con, finding that I risked
more by keeping silence than by breaking it, I determined to
venture on the delicate duty of speaking my mind.
Now there was but one difficulty, - a difficulty indeed! -
how to open the business. Luckily the orator himself extricated
me from that embarrassment, by asking what they said of him
in the world at large, and whether people were tolerably well
pleased with his last discourse. I answered that there could be
but one opinion about his homilies; but that it should seem as if
the last had not quite struck home to the hearts of the audience,
like those which had gone before.