que La Rochefoucauld commença à faire ouvertement partie de l'existence de Mme. de La Fayette." And here we leave this much-vexed problem of chronology.
Of the nature of this union and of the talk it gave rise to, we shall not speak. Mme. de Sévigné tells all that need be known. "Leur mauvaise santé," writes she, "les rendoit comme nécessaires l'un à l'autre.... je crois que nulle passion ne peut surpasser la force d'une telle liaison." The influence of this friendship upon each may best be set forth in the words of Mme. de La Fayette: "M. de La Rochefoucauld m'a donné de l'esprit, mais j'ai réformé son cœur." La Rochefoucauld had been embittered by disappointed ambition, ill health, and the loss of his favorite son; and his opinion of humanity in general and of woman in particular was none too lofty, to say the least. Perhaps Mme. de La Fayette's greatest service in this respect was in toning down the severity of the immortal Maxims.
We know how deep and lasting was the grief of Mme. de La Fayette for the loss of the man with whose life her own had been so long and so closely united. On March 17th, 1680, Mme. de Sévigné writes: "M. de La Rochefoucauld died last night. When again will poor Mme. de La Fayette find such a friend, such kindness, such consideration for her and her son? So great a loss is not to be repaired or obliterated by time." And again: "Poor Mme. de La Fayette is now wholly at a loss what to do with herself. The death of M. de La Rochefoucauld has made so terrible a void in her life that she has come to judge better of the value of such a friendship. Every one else will be comforted in the course of time, but she, alas, has nothing to occupy her mind."
Apart from M. de La Rochefoucauld, La Fontaine was the only one of the many great men of her time with whom Mme. de La Fayette was on terms of friendship. Boileau has left his opinion of our author in a pithy sentence. "Mme. de La Fayette," said he, "est la femme qui écrit le mieux et qui a le plus d'esprit." But this is all.
Mme. de La Fayette's first published work was La Princesse de Montpensier in 1660 or 1662. This was followed by Zaïde, in 1670, which bore the name of Segrais, but which is by Mme. de La Fayette. The latter of these (for we confess not to have read the former) has indeed some merit, though written in the style of the old heroic romance, "with its abductions, its shipwrecks, its pirates, its gloomy solitudes, where flawless lovers breathe forth their sighs in palaces adorned with allegorical paintings."
La Princesse de Clèves was published in 1677 from the house of Claude Barbin. It was in four volumes, and bore no name. The little work (for it is scarcely longer than our own Vicar of Wakefield) at once took its place among the immortal productions of French literature. It is needless for us to discuss the unprofitable question of why Mme. de La Fayette withheld her name from the titlepage, and would never own to the authorship. That La Princesse de Clèves was written by her, and her alone, the world is well agreed; and this is enough for us to know. It is interesting, however, to read a letter of hers touching this point, for it shows, apart from other things, what opinion her contemporaries had of her masterpiece. This letter, bearing the date April 13th, 1678, we translate in part:
"A little book [La Princesse de Montpensier] which had some vogue fifteen years ago, and which the public was pleased to ascribe to me, has earned me the title of author of La Princesse de Clèves; but I assure you that I have had no part in it, and that M. de Rochefoucauld, who has also been mentioned, has had as little as I. He denies it so strenuously that it is impossible not to believe him, especially in a matter which can be confessed without shame. As for me, I am flattered at being suspected, and I think I should acknowledge the book if I were sure that the author would never claim it of me. I find it very agreeable, well written, without being extremely polished, full of very delicate touches, and well worth more than a single reading; and what I especially notice is an exact representation of the persons composing the court and of their manner of life. It is without romanticism and exaggeration, and so it is not a romance; it is more like a book of memoirs,—and I hear this was the first title of the book,—but it was changed. There you have my opinion of the La Princesse de Clèves; let me ask you for yours, for people have almost come to blows over it. Many blame what others praise, so, whatever you say, you will not find yourself alone in your views."
With La Princesse de Clèves, Mme. de La Fayette created a new kind of fiction,—"substituting," says Saintsbury, "for mere romance of adventure on the one hand, and stilted heroic work on the other, fiction in which the display of character is held of chief account." The very briefness of the work, its sober language and simple incident, contrasted with the appalling length, the mighty catastrophes, and grand phrases of the old romances, may have indeed contributed much to its immediate popularity, but its abiding interest rests upon the truthfulness with which character is drawn, and emotions and motives are analyzed. The old order of fiction had indeed already fallen into contempt; Boileau and others had dealt it fatal blows, but the finishing stroke was justly due to Mme. de La Fayette. And the world has ever gladly owned its debt to her.
La Princesse de Clèves is an historical romance. The historical interest is, however, the least of its charms. The scene purports to be laid in the Court of Henry II.; but the manners—and the personages, apart from their names—are all those of the Court of Louis XIV. Certain critics have endeavored to trace the character of Mme. de La Fayette in that of the Princess of Clèves, of M. de La Rochefoucauld in that of M. de Nemours; but too strict an autobiographical interpretation destroys the charm of the story. The little book should be read for its intrinsic worth,—its delightful style, its faithful delineation of character, and its earnestness of moral purpose.
Mme. de La Fayette died in 1693. During her last years ill health and sorrow had forced upon her an almost absolute seclusion, and she died forgotten by all except a few faithful friends. The place of her burial is unknown.
The editors return their thanks to Professor van Daell for helpful suggestions, and to Drs. James W. Tupper and George C. Keidel of the Johns Hopkins University, Professor James A. Harrison of the University of Virginia, and Professor F.M. Warren of Adelbert College, for aid generously given.
LA PRINCESSE DE CLÈVES.
PREMIÈRE PARTIE.
La magnificence et la galanterie n'ont jamais paru en France avec tant d'éclat que dans les dernières années du règne de Henri second.[1] Jamais Cour n'a eu tant de belles personnes et d'hommes admirablement bien faits, et il sembloit que la nature eût pris plaisir à placer ce qu'elle donne de plus beau dans les plus grandes princesses et dans les plus grands princes. Madame Elisabeth de France,[2] qui fut depuis reine d'Espagne, commençoit à faire paroître un esprit surprenant et cette incomparable beauté qui lui a été si funeste. Marie Stuart,[3] reine d'Écosse, qui venoit d'épouser Monsieur le Dauphin,[4] et qu'on appeloit la Reine Dauphine, étoit une personne parfaite pour l'esprit et pour le corps; elle avoit été élevée à la Cour de France; elle en avoit pris toute la politesse, et elle étoit née avec tant de dispositions pour toutes les belles choses, que, malgré sa grande jeunesse, elle les aimoit et s'y connoissoit mieux que personne. La Reine,[5] sa belle-mère, et Madame, sœur du Roi,[6] aimoient aussi les vers, la comédie et la musique. Le goût que le Roi François Ier[7] avoit eu pour la poésie et pour les lettres régnoit encore en France; et le Roi, son fils, aimant les exercices du corps, tous les plaisirs étoient à la Cour. Mais, ce qui rendoit cette Cour belle et majestueuse, étoit le nombre infini de princes et de grands seigneurs d'un mérite extraordinaire. Ceux que je vais nommer étoient, en des manières différentes, l'ornement et l'admiration de leur siècle.
Le Roi de Navarre[1] attiroit le respect de tout le monde
