LES PRECIEUSES.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 6362, 9 November 1907, Page 12

LES PRECIEUSES.

A STUDY TN TRENCH LITERARY lIISTUKY. (By A. Wilson, Editor "N.Z. Times.") ■ ■■ , . IX. '■ ' One of the novel features of Madame do , Eambouillet’s Boloii was precisely this,’ that there, men, of talent found themselves treated as men of rank, whilst* men of rank were obliged to roSheet intellect, and’ to show themselves, if possible, men of talent. Every guest had to take the tone of tho chamber. On Hb threshold, Mile, do Mqntpensier, wilful young woman as sho was, tonlperod hor emphatic language, and even Condo, impossible as that may seem, ceased to swear. Some of the poets, no doubt; it was clearly impossible to educate to any finical fastidiousness about hair and finger-nails. A few of thorn, and those not the least distinguished, seedy and illgroomod to the end of tho chapter; hut if they ’ seemed not'too presentable when seen m tho Chamber Blue, how mnst they have appeared in undress hours, drinking in their cabaret, or hammering out madrigals in a garret of tho Latin quarter. Many of those mouldy geniuses, hovertholoss, were the salt of Franco; and one of madame’s best qualifications for the rfile she played was her faculty for penetrating unpromising exteriors, and bringing the best out of everybody. This she did bjf the gracious way she had of extending sympathetic encouragement .to 'every kind of-merit. Not that she was what might be called an Boey hostess. Beloved as she was. the Marquiso was not a person with whom one would venture to take liberties. It Is said that Voiture once nut two hears til' her bedroom, much to tho lady’s coukternation. . But Voituro was Voiture, tho potted Ariel of the Chamber Blue. Other people, even tho Marquis do Ramboulllofc himself, had to treat the Marquise with respectful deference and -even ■ with oorotaony. It is true, as Milo, do Montperteior says, that, her look waa a benediction; but those benignant eyes, possibly by their very benignity, oouid offieetdally remind 1 -my prelordling th’ht 1 ho must behave ns if he worn hear a great lady.

XTnd/or tho influence of Madame do ■Eambouillet and her friends tho mannow of society began perceptibly to change, and greatly for tho bettor. Intellectuality became tho fashion, and tho free and easy behaviour of men to women changed to an attitude of deference and ceremonious respect. It grow unfashionable at balls for ladies to slap their, partners,; and at supper for gentlemen, bo strike'ladies with legs of mutton. . Crude jests and, brutal stories found no Savour with Madame do Eambouillot, and .men, and women were soon niade aware that propriety of language was an indispensable qualification of entree to., Sladame's drawing-room. So language Went, on refining itself till it became vory, exquisite indeed, rind tho change in the spoken speech was greatly helped by tho ’literary activity of the Salon. Odes, ballads, -rondeaux, sonnets, and , all , those delicately precise forme of verse became tho rage, and tho Kamllouillot conOsoonti grow to bo extremely critical'and exacting in, tho matter of form and phrasing. A whole art of prtptry tpiis grew pp in.tho Salon; and furthermore an art of prose.' When Madamo’s friends were absent from Paris, at their. ;oocmtry , houses or on their travels,' they carried on a sternly correspondence, with their acquaintances in town; arid those letters were read aloud and ..canvassed in the alcoves of tHo US tel Bambo oillet. The receipt lor a “precious” letter is to take nothing, amd expand it to four folio pages—four pagan of gallant sentiment, sparkling -wit, and far-fietebed quips and absurdities. which yet seem to drop natnrally from the point of tho pen. The Jottor-writor who finds himself “gravolj2fnr tack of matter” does not cron

know ivhat a letlpr moan*. TjaUcir* that have matter in, tiiom an. not letters, but juiKsives, wiueh any Inmi-dimn •scrivener nan write by tin. ie»>n- ‘; u,:h wore not the Icttors ol tnc, Hutu Knm-boiulli-i: u.f.,0 non. letter maeed-ven-fcablo creations, i;rnc-iui lira ie«que.j ol coiaplimcnt and allusion without >«■-!>•- m„K, nuddle, or mil. it the J. roncii are pnxuriineutly a nation of it is because the art took iKiU't eh-pt in the Hotel ItnmUnuilul. Our ou n poet Hope, who thoiiisiil i>« small tiiiiixs. of bis talent tor Icttei-wiiunb, - Ilallam says, but the "ope ol Voiuue, chartered wit and corrt«poiulent ol the idiamber Blue. Acoordm? to .ir.illam .the way U>^VeaiilT nlT. with £ utirKwfc novelty in’ “he "Lu V •*; mill admire the writer, admire niniseii aim " uu, r ‘‘ - ~y t. i,- „ i,ni Jn this vein tenure, with nothin™ but a couple of quarto pi 1!? e» , more or .■very s.-ntcncc ot which is an in r lu<i tribute to the lady s charms. J 1 AA-I writinK is nov. «-e"h»vo hlsi-AluVArccious .nccouipiisiunent oi sayiui pleasantly and at Iciißlh. ' Wliat (list inguiohed tho oonvorsauon of Uio Hold liaiiiboutliet was its wix mid icauon.cnt, on which last point the Mu.rciUJ.-o was csuictiug. Wmwvoi tn-loiv-u la-r cLrawiiig-iCKUii musi: pui 0 c their vocabulary oi all that was t'ross, and liu-re ww a goutl deal tual, u<ib crroii in lho i/aris vocabulary ot tuat lime. If oiuiicws camo, arf need* they must, when some maid or valet, M-arcotte or jVliiiauzor. uhccl expressions not ac-, cord in 3 to Quintilian, Madame de Kambouili t certainly did not gasp anil staic, being too well bred for that, but, ioeling obliged to do something, she took tho more ladylike court* ot tainting. Tho. fact is that there was a good deal in tho language of tho time to try tolcrnuiv prti»imt nerves. Men and wornou >ad been much in tho habit of calling things frankly by their names;, whoreno wc all know that there ai-o things, :e----spec table and imoossary cnouuh in. . Jij.ju.-cdvou which novcrtholctis iu’O better rtncn-crl in drawing-room oonvereation? Tho Morquiso did nx>t dm;vpprovo of spade:-} in thcmselvcw, but Bho thought tho mention of spades undesirable in a salon, jurd: a« a generation, oi two later tho “precioas" Voltaxro considered tho words, “goat” and dog not BiihicuMiUy noble for tragedy. \\ listt tho prdcicni'se© aimed at above all things was spirituality. Tho grossly material must os far ns passible bo kept out ot sio'ht’ or if it must bo embodied m lan-iru-ige it wits a matter of hue tooling not to express it grossly, to indicate it by some prettily ingenious iifrure or turn of phrase, to suggest rather than crudely .name it, in any case not brutal y to call a spade a spade. Vet, spiritual as they were, tho procicuscs wore not all spiritThey had bodies ns well as souls, and pretty bodies too, some ot them, as they very well knew, but none the loss liked to be told. To what end were ports and men of fashion there except to tell thorn pleasant truths, and to address odes and anagrams to thoir most striking charms. Ajid how is a poet to address ode« to pretty oyos. Ups, or foot unless ho is allowed to mention those palpably material features said extremities? # The case scorns hard. Tho most precious ot gallants cannot proceed far if he w obliged to treat a lady as an impalpable essence, ft pure quintessential emanation of tho ideal. The case, however, is not oo hard as it looko. It is tine that ho may not brutally name the lady s eyes, but ho may spenk enigmatically of "two lovely lustrous lamps of Phoebus;” not bluntly name her lips, but there are such things as "two sunkissed cherries growing on one stem; not mention her foot, but—nero ray preciosity fails me, and I am obliged to call a spado a spade. Whoever wishes to soo the language of tho ptecieuses reduced to the absurd, must read the ** Preciouscs Ridicules,” where the high priestess of tho “precious,” Milo. Scuderi, appears under the name of Cathos. In tho vocabulary of Cathos a mirror is a "Coansollor of the Graces,” and a chair, "a commodity of conversation.” She hsi© a "furious” delicacy in respect of what she wears, and a "furious” weakness for men of Uio sword; whilst Maseariilo responds in. kind, and pleads in excuse of his bad Binging that "the brutality of tho season has furiously outraged tho delicacy of his , voice.” This is on Moliero’s part excellent farcing, but it is farcing, nevertheless. At the time when tho "Pruciouses Bidicules” appeared the precious movement was in its decadence, and the “Femmes Savantos," though it did not by any means destroy tho thing itself, brought tho term "precious” and’tho absurdities of preciosity into contempt. From tho first, language was a subject of engrossing interest and of constant discussion in tho Hotel Rambouillet, so that tho habitues of tho Salon became exceedingly nice and fastidious in tho choice and use of words. Several of tho men of letter? who frequented the salon were tk© moot distinguished philologists and grammarians of the time. One of these was Chapelain, who on his first appearance appalled oven Mhdamo do Rambouillet, familiar as she was with th© out-at-elbows eh abb incss of authors. Chapelain had never had a new outfit within living memory. When he’ presented himsolf at tho Salon, what Madamo saw before her was _ a dirty, seedy, littlo old ipan,, arrayed in an obsolete suit of frayed satin, with queer boots, an old hat, and on older wig. And this not because he was a poor man. Besides having secured several comfortable benefices, ho had mad© a good bargain with his publisher for his poem "La Pucelle,” and such bargains were not common in Chapel a in's time. "La Pucollo” is a poem in ever so many thousand lines, to soy nothing of twelve cantos that wore never published. An "enormous allegorical nightmare” it has been called, and from the lines quoted bv Boiloau, tn which, r as Cathos* would say, he waxes "furiously” r funny, one can understand what an incubus the poem must have been to Paris, which nevertheless demanded six editions in eighteen months. A man who could produce "an enormous allegorical nightinaro" might surely claim enttee to tho literary society of his time. But the production of a nightmare was not Cbftpolain'fl best claim to consideration. Ifo was. it appears, an exquisite critic, and an Invaluable guide where any question aroeo that . concerned purity of language or propriety of expression, so that ho was called, in the precious manner, "lo legisto de Parnasse.” Chanolain continued shabby to the end of tho chapter, but the influence of the Hotel Rambouillet had so far its effect that he ultimately doffed his odd costume of dove-coloured satin for a sober unit of professional black. » It is much to Madamo's credit that she was able to* see the sterling worth that lay behind Chapclnin's shabby outside. Tt is more difficult to understand how sho tolerated Menage, another gentleman learned in language, the kent man-of-lctters of tho Cardinal de Retz, a boastful coxcomb who continually pestered people about his own writings, and abused those who seemed not to know them. Ho may have been less shahbr in appearance than Chanclnin. but he seems to have had worse manners, for he is described by one who saw him in Madame's alcove, as having *‘nettov6 les dents, par dedans, avec un mouchoir fort sale, et cola pendant touto un© visit©.” whereas, as a matter of fact, tho fashionable toothpick of tho time wns the nail of the littlo finger, left to grow long, and kept on purpose sharply pointed. We must believe however,, that Mfinago had hie good points, in spite of his dirty handkerchief: otherwise tho Marquise de Rambouillet would not have had him in her Salon. And we know that he had his good points. He could be. generous to his enemies; and his reception of the "Femmes Savant©?,” where he appears, not to his advantage, in th© -character of Vadiue. shows that he could bear ridicule like a man of sense.

Of the men of letters who frequented the UAfl Rambouillet during tho hr*t twelve in- fifteen years of its existence fh<> most distinguished was no doubt Malherbe, who not merely occupies a high nlar-e among French poets, but had in his time* quite au cxccpUonul part ia purifying ami fixing the trench language. What strikes one most in Malherbe, and most commands reject, is his robust common sense. I Visibly common scn.se is not the qualification mo-1 essential lo a poet, but certainly iho bod poetry cannot exist, without it, if not us au inspiration in itself, yet us a corrective to tae fine frenzy. Malherbe's common censo and his finely critieul and fastidious taste have made liis verse u marvel of technical correctness. If is elaborate theory of versification and tho frigid perfection, of his technique explain to some extent the secret of that artificiality and that faulty i'anlUes-.u(\s« which characterise the French poetry of the seventeenth and eigul'.enui centuries, and have made it thj insipid to. tho English taste. "Ail those famous' rules,” nays M. Faguet, "wore, if i may say so, to such an extent part of the rhythmic temperament of tho French that tho best pools anterior ip Malherbe had. iolioweo them by instinct, and that French poetry after him followed them almost without variation, aucil tho time cume when, through. Uio inilueiico oi instrumental music, a now rhythmic temperament gradually developed itself among the French, sub-sUaum-Ry not very dinorent, but permitting and requiring in tho rhythm, a nicer dlscrimuiatioxi of shades, and something lews of uniformity and rigour.”

If Mcdhcrbo was a martinet in versification, he was equally a purist in language. Tho Pleiad, notwithstanding choir manifesto for tho “Defence and Glorification of tho French Language," had done their host, by sluicing it with Latin and Greek, to impair its purity and idiomatic vigour, it was Malherbe's honourable task to correct tho license of the sixteenth century, and bring the language back from pedantic absurdity to common sense. He was tho oracle of hiej time on all questions of stylo and speech, being to Paris what, a century later, Johnson was to London. He had Johnson’s learning and critical acumen; and as for bearishness, Johnson was urbanity itself beside- Malherbe. Malherbe coaid bo blunt oven with his King, who, though no loss a man than Henry the Great, would Eoiuotiines consult him on moot points of usage. Ought one to say cuillor or cuillere." Henry contended for cuillero. Tho noun being feminine should have a feminine ending. “Sire,” said Malherbe, "you are tho most absolute King that over reigned in France, but you will never make the people on this side the Loire eay cuillere, not if you imposed a fine of a hundred pounds for every time they said anything else.” Malherbe seem® not to have lilted Gascons. Few people, perhaps, out of Gascony did. iet Malherbe’s patron, M. do Bellegarde, whoso salt he ate, might surely have expected, Gascon though he was, a civil answer to a civil question. M. do Bellegardo wanted simply to know whether ouo ought to say depenso or dependu. "Deponsb is the correct French,” said Malherbe, "but <pendu, dependu, repandu, or any other compound of this villainous word is more appropriate for a Gascon,”

Vaugelas was another habitue of tho Salon who knew his own language. H© was not a poet, like Malherbe, nor was ho a philologist in th© sens© in which wo understand the word. But h© had carefully studied and noted the niceties of French usage; and, after th© incorporation of the Academy, he was considered tho man, in all France, best qualified to superintend the compilation of the now dictionary, which work he hud brought lo letter I. when he died, in honest poverty, full of years and honour. Both Malherbe and Vaugelas held that the proper' touchstone of words is usage. But though they agreed as to what usage was not, they did nut agree as to what usage was. They were at one in thinking that correct usage must not be looked for exclusively m the works of authors, who are too often pedants. Malherbe thought that the correct usage must bo sought amongst tho people, or as he put it, amongst tho .porterd of tho Port-au-Foin; Vaugelas chat it must bo found in the language of the court, of which?- he had a bumciontly intimate knowledge to entitle him to judge. It is clear that if Madame de Rambouiilot had any ambition to purge the French language of its grossness and its pedantry, she had at -her side the men, of all Friiuce tho best fitted to- help her in the task. But no one must suppose, because the Hotel Rambouillet was frequented by Latinists, poets, and grammarians, that preciosity wius a man’s movement. Some words have a curious way of specialising gender and becoming unisexual. As u matter of fact "precious©” has no masculine, as "pedant” has no feminine. Certainly men were infected with the prevailing preciosity, and in so far, I suppose, became women; as no doubt a woman may be a X>edant, but only .when she becomes a man., Anyhow tho precieuses were women, tho precious movement was a woman’s movement: and when, women take up a movement, you may trust them to see it through to ite logical conclusions. >So it was here. Catherine de Rambouillet lived long enough to see preciosity carried to at least one logical conclusion, tho concluslo ad absurdum, whither logic so often leads. But a reduction to the absurd is often not inconsistent with another conclusion not at all absurd. Catherine d© Rambouillet did not live enough to see the more important bearings of the "precious” movement on French poetry and French prose. As regards prose it established a standard which all the satire of tho stage has been unable to touch, hut which now, unfortunately- for itself, French prose seems, inclined to abandon; as regards verse it imposed a standard upon French poets which crippled them for two centuries, until Victor Hugo and other sons of the Revolution revolted against its cramping narrowness.

' It was, after all, the influence of the women of th© Hotel Rambouillet that was most vital as regards the regenera,tion of the French language. Let their own learning bo what it might, none Jcnow better than Chapelain, Vaugelas, und Menage, that tho purest French in .►France was that which dropped from the* Ups of Madame do Rambouillet herself and her daughters, and from the lips of the great ladies who frequented her drawing-room—Madam© de Louguevillc, who careered through life like a glorious meteor, Madame d© Sable, so admirable in her speech and eo weak in. her spelling, Madame de la Fayette, and Madame de Sevigne, each in *her way a great French classic, ( th© learned Mrulamc de Sabliero. tho interminable Mile, do Scuderi and others, of whom something possibly at* another time.