New-York tribune., 1874-10-22


What charming fellow he was, this La Fontaine in
spite Of his lack Of almost every quality man
possess. He had virtue himself; anu ye' ~ '"."o
men loved him. He had no constancy "p" yo' -.
adored him. He was q bad husoano' ap" o"s .,...
He deserted his wife, and after strange gouuesses
he wrote verses such as proper people muS' NV 80
d ca, Esnelon the most sanity man OF his ne ous'
,n,o ,oars at his DEATH and wrote his ranegync' ne
was always in poverty, vet he was always eohVon.e"'
Ue had no ambition, yet he achieved great rePuaon
He lived an utterly goddess life, but ne dien hAe san
He lived only for himself yet nobody thought OF calling
him selfish All, the world loves its butterflies, as Be
SAINT says and well it for they are rare There are
few men supplemented enough to he butterflies and DO
more; to strive for nothing. Says Besan:
England has had but few Of these CANDY and brilliant
winged creatures her sky, perhaps being unisVoraoo
course was prematurey checked by the untihey ,
frost of the Revolution; Cav Moore ana very rev
has Rntebeuf. vIon. Marot, La Fontaine and naii a
hundred Others who nave ad IN se of
the Summer And of all this careless ana lmproVuehC
crew. most careless aud the most lmproVuepI was
Jean de la Fontaine.
He was born In 1921 midway between the births OF
Corneile and Racine, at the little town OF Cha
Thierry his father held post as mde es ednr e
forets and was q welltodO man. something above the
middle class. First after leaving school La Fontaibe
tried priest but after years trial no gave up
the attempt and then it took five years OF idle pcasur
father got him married. true French fashion, and re-
signed his own post in his favor But the slight duties
this post bored him intensely and his vile bored DIN
yet ore though he wrote her very nice letters wheh
he was well away from her. Then he tried to be q
classical scholar and made bad translaiions II was
not until he that he sold the post nc had
inherited from his father, fattering himself that nc
eould live upon the proceeds. and began to allow MS
mind TO follow its natural bent. About ths
time he was introduced to the great Fouque''
who liked him, every body else did; attacheo
him 10 himself; and gave bim pension, on the easy
condition that FOnain would write him ballad once
quarter Then followed nine years, all too short OF
feastirg and lOve-making reading and perfect happ
ness chiefly apart from his wife, you may be sure AND
then came Fouuuers downfall and Imprisonment; and
at A. La Fonaine poor butterfly Oh whom the sun had
shone so long, found himself without protector, ana
with very few shilllngs
Butterflies grow pious with poverty, and La Fontane
returned to his wife, became father and spent the
next years between Paris and ChaeauThierry his
wife at first sometimes accompanying hin TO Paris but
gradually settling down TO her home in ChaeauThierry,
while her husband gravitated more and more toward
Paris At 45 years OF be had published nothing out
one miserable comedy; but he became acquainted
then with two powerful Duchesses at whose insgauon
he commenced to write his tales and fables-and soon
the world began to appreciate the brilliant Wiz ana
charming grace Of the poor butterfly OF the muses. lie
became the most popular writer In France.i
Fifteen years passed by. He got himself separated
from his wife, quietly and without scandal though once
Boileau wrought upon him to try aud efecta reconca-
ton with her. So he went down to Chateau-Thlerry
She IN church when he arrived and OF course nc
could not wait till she out but went back to Paris
serene I'm his consciousness OF vrtuehe had tried TO DC
recOnciled to the woman-t was no longer his fanlt'
His Duchesses died; and Madame dc Ia Sabere became
his protector. AT SO, thus naughty child was admoed
INTO the Academy and after this he wrote tales, more
wicked and witty and sprighty than ever. At last
when he was a. Madame de la Sabiere died. and again
he was homeless Aud indeed 1t was the late No
vember in which 10 butterfly could be expected to aut-
ter its wings.
He was smitten with disease; and they came and
made Christian of him, and his penitence was just as
childlke and simple his wckedness had BEEN When
his conessOr before him the mischief that his tales
had done he burst into and offered to give the
profits of his next edition TO the Church Soon the end
came He died year following his conversion pain
lessly and happily the of his old and dear FRIEND
Racine All France fell into tears, and everybody felt,
what his nurse said "Dieu nauro pas courage de 6
dam,1aer"
turn the leaves, without lingering over Boieau. who
knew so much and meant well but who failed to be
poet because he was utterly without that power OF
loving which, according TO Besant, makes poets OF us
a-or Molere, who loved too mucb and was so cruelty
deceived where he loved the best-or Regnard, whoEl
nobody reads BOw, but who was man OF marx ln MS
time-or Gresset, whom we remember by the single
poem of Vert Vert" the pous parrotor Beaumarchas,
prince of charlatans But must pause moment with
Beranger best and brightest and last who only seven
teen wears ago. stopped singing and went over TO the
majority.
Beranger born in $780, the son Of a grocers ap-
prentice and pretty millner, both OF whom abandoned
him 70 the care Of his mothers parents Born in oh
scurity be chose TO remain The world might read
his songs before his inner life the poet shy as any
maiden, kept a curtain down, which nobody was bold
enough lift. But we know that he loved one woman,
all his life long Whether she his wife, or only his
friend, no one say. He did not bring her home, to
share his daily life, until she was 81 and he was So
TheD at ancient friends or lovers the word-the
witty, wicked, mocking world of France-pointed
fingers Of derision But B6ranger with the quiet self
respect which always characterized him, wrote letter
10 the assemble Rationale claiming the right OF ar
ranging his household his way; and then he was
let alone.
He knew and loved Judith trst in 1885, when she was
1s and he was l6 and their perfect friendship was the
ioy of his whole ifc afterwards She was but simple
working girl, with pretty face, sweet voice, blue
ewes and a true and tender naure-but she satisfied,
emit rely the poet who loved her. He sought no duch-
esses like La Fontane, light loves like Moliere. To
Judith went with his hopes and fears. his first mid
successes his pains and pleasures The songs the world
waited for sung to her. first. They were few in
number; Beranger a careful writer giving the
world scarcely than ten in year, and keep
ing each one by him TIL he had polished it to the utmost
extent OF his power He nsulted the public with no
hasy workout Judith knew all the steps by which he
went on perfec tion, and her sympathy was his elixir
Of life She died first, for so lie wished it-he was
stronger to bear pain and loneliness than shc-and
Judith who had lived to fulfill his wishes fulfilled thus
.he last OF them in dying.
Beranger suni.:;5d up in himself the esprit gaulos
We have found in all these humorsts that same thing
There is the same Of life and of laughter the same
mocking mirth, the dread OF old age and death