He was a man, that Henri! How gay and
graceful seems his unflinching frankness! He wore life
as lightly as the feather in his cap. I have become much
interested, too, in the two Guises, who had seemed to me mere
intriguers, and not of so splendid abilities, when I was less
able to appreciate the difficulties they daily and hourly
combated. I want to read some more books about them. Do you
know whether I could get Matthieu, or de Thou, or the Memoirs
of the House of Nevers?
'I do not think this is a respectable way of passing my
summer, but I cannot help it.
'I never read any life of Moliere. Are the facts very
interesting? You see clearly in his writing what he was: a
man not high, not poetic; but firm, wide, genuine, whose
clearsightedness only made him more noble. I love him well
that he could see without showing these myriad mean faults of
the social man, and yet make no nearer approach to misanthropy
than his Alceste. These witty Frenchmen. Rabelais, Montaigne,
Moliere, are great as were their marshals and _preux
chevaliers_; when the Frenchman tries to be poetical,
he becomes theatrical, but he can be romantic, and also
dignified, maugre shrugs and snuff-boxes.
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