(1665); Tartuffe (1667); Le Misanthrope (1668); Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme (1670); Les Femmes Savantes (1672); La Malade Imaginaire (1673). More than a century after his death the French Academy, which had in his lifetime refused to admit him as a member because of his profession of actor, voted that his bust should be placed in their chamber, with this inscription: "For his glory there is nothing needed; he is needed for ours."

Voltaire and other French critics place The Misanthrope at the head of the dramas of Molière. Although the characters bear classical names, the scene is laid in Paris, and the plot and personages are thoroughly Parisian.

PHILENTE AND ALCESTE.

Phil. When we are of the world we must conform to the outward civilities which custom demands.

Alc.I deny it. We ought to punish pitilessly that shameful pretence of friendly intercourse. I like a man to be a man, and to show on all occasions the bottom of his heart in his discourse. Let that be the thing to speak, and never let our feelings be hidden beneath our compli

ments.

Phil. There are many cases in which plain speaking would be ridiculous and could hardly be tolerated. And, with all allowance for your unbending honesty, it is as well to conceal our feelings sometimes. Would it be right or decent to tell thousands of people what we think of them? And when we meet with someone whom we hate or who displeases us, must we tell him so openly?

Alc.

Yes.

Phil. What! Would you tell old Emilia that it ill becomes her to set up for a beauty at her age; and that the paints she uses disgust everyone?

Alc.

Undoubtedly.

Phil. - Or Doulos that he is a bore, and that there is

no one at Court who is not sick of hearing him boast of his courage and the lustre of his house?

Alc.- Decidedly so.

Phil. You are jesting.

Alc. I am not jesting at all; and I would not spare anyone in that respect. It offends my eyes too much; and whether at Court or in town, I behold nothing but what provokes my spleen. I become quite melancholy, and deeply grieved to see men behave to each other as they do. Everywhere I find nothing but base flattery, injustice, self-interest, deceit, roguery. I cannot bear it any longer; I am furious; and my intention is to break with all mankind. Phil. This philosophical spleen is somewhat too savage. I cannot but laugh to see you in these gloomy fits, and fancy that I perceive in us two, brought up together, the two brothers, in the School for Husbands, who—

-

Alc. Good Heavens! drop your insipid comparisons. Phil. Nay, seriously, leave off these vagaries. This world will not alter for all your meddling. And as plain speaking has such charms for you, I shall tell you frankly that this complaint of yours is as good as a play wherever you go, and that all these invectives against the manners of the age make you a laughing-stock to many people.

Alc. So much the better! Zounds! So much the better! That is just what I want. It is a very good sign, and I rejoice at it. All men are so odious to me that I should be sorry to appear rational in their eyes.

Phil.

- But do you wish harm to all mankind? Alc.—Yes; I have conceived a terrible hatred for

them.

Phil. Shall all poor mortals, without exception, be included in this aversion? There are some even in the age in which we live

Alc. No; they are all alike; and I hate all men. Some because they lend themselves to the wicked, and have not that healthy contempt with which vice ought to inspire all healthy minds. You cannot but see how unjustly and excessively complaisant people are to that barefaced scoundrel with whom I am at law. You may plainly perceive the traitor through his mask; he is well known

everywhere in his true colors; his rolling eyes and his honeyed tones impose only on those who do not know him. People are aware that this low-bred fellow, who deserves to be pilloried, has by the dirtiest jobs made his way in the world; and that the splendid position he has acquired makes merit repine and virtue blush. Yet, whatever dishonorable epithets may be launched against him everywhere, nobody defends his wretched honor. Call him a rogue, an infamous wretch, a confounded scoundrel, if you like; all the world will say "Yes," and no one contradicts you. But for all that, his bowing and scraping are welcome everywhere; he is received, smiled upon, and wriggles himself into all kinds of society; and if any appointment is to be secured by intriguing, he will carry the day over a man of the greatest worth. Zounds! these are mortal stabs to me to see vice parleyed with, and sometimes I feel suddenly inclined to fly into a wilderness far from the approach of men.

Phil. — Great Heavens! let us torment ourselves a little less about the vices of the age, and be a little more lenient to human nature. Let us not scrutinize it with the utmost severity, but look with some indulgence at its failings. In society we need virtue to be a little more pliable. If we are too wise we may be equally to blame; good sense avoids all extremes, and requires us to be soberly rational. This unbending and virtuous stiffness of ancient times. shocks too much the ordinary customs of our own; it requires too great perfection of us mortals; we must yield to the times, without being too stubborn; it is the height of folly to busy ourselves in correcting the world. I, as well as yourself, notice a hundred things every day which might be better managed, differently enacted; but whatever I may discover at any moment, people do not see me in a rage like you. I take men quietly, just as they are. I accustom my mind to bear with what they do; and I believe that at Court, as well as in the city, my phlegm is as philosophical as your bile.

Alc. But this phlegm, good sir—you who reason so well could it not be disturbed by anything? And if perchance a friend should betray you if he forms a subtle plot to get hold of what is yours-if people should try

to spread evil reports about you would you tamely submit to all this without flying into a rage?

Phil.Ay. I look upon all these faults of which yo complain as vices inseparably connected with human nature. In short, my mind is no more shocked at seeing a man a rogue, unjust, or selfish, than at seeing vultures eager for prey, mischievous apes, or fury-lashed wolves.

Alc.- What! I should see myself deceived, torn to pieces, robbed, without losing-Zounds! I shall say no more about it; all this reasoning is full of impertinence!

Phil. Upon my word, you would do well to keep silence. Rail a little less at your opponent, and attend a little more to your suit.

Alc. - That I shall not do; that is settled long ago. Phil. - But whom, then do you expect to solicit for you?

Alc.- Whom? Reason my just cause equity. Phil.- Shall you not pay a visit to any of the judges? Alc.- No. Is my cause unjust or dubious?

Phil. I am agreed on that. But you know what harm intrigues do; and

Alc.- No. I am resolved not to stir a step. I am either right or wrong.

Phil.- Do not trust to that.

Alc.- I shall not budge an inch.

Phil. Your opponent is powerful; and by his underhand work may induce

Alc.- It does not matter.

Phil. You will make a mistake.

Alc.- Be it so.

Phil.- But

I wish to see the end of it.

Alc. I shall have the satisfaction of losing my suit. Phil. But after all

-

Alc. I shall see by this trial whether men have sufficient impudence, are wicked, villanous, and perverse enough to do me the injustice in the face of the whole world.

Phil.- What a strange fellow!

Alc. I could wish, were it to cost me ever so much, that, for the fun of the thing, I might lose my case.

Phil. But people will really laugh at you, Alceste, if they hear you go on in this fashion.

Alc.- So much the worse for those who will.-The Misanthrope.

Of all the dramas of Molière, Tartuffe is perhaps the one of the widest scope and the most enduring interest. Besides several subordinate characters who help to carry on the action of the play, the principal personages are: "Tartuffe," the sanctimonious reprobate, the most perfect representative of his class ever brought upon the stage; "Orgon," a wealthy citizen; "Elmine," his wife; "Damis," his son; "Mariane,” his daughter. "Tartuffe," by his sanctimonious talk and his pretended medical skill, has obtained a complete ascendancy over "Orgon," who wishes to marry him to his daughter, and enrich him at the expense of his son. "Tartuffe," however, becomes enamored of "Elmine," to whom he makes insulting approaches. The action of the drama hinges upon the vile schemes of "Tartuffe," their temporary success and ultimate discomfiture.

TARTUFFE, ELMINE, DAMIS, AND ORGON.

Tar.- May Heaven, in its mighty goodness, forever bestow upon you health, both of soul and body; and bless your days as much as the humblest of its votaries desires. Elm.- I am much obliged for this pious wish. But let us take a seat, to be more at ease.

Tar.- Are you quite recovered of your indisposition? Elm.- Quite; that fever has now left me.

Tar. My prayers are not deserving enough to have drawn this grace from above; but not one of them ascended to Heaven that had not your recovery for its object.

Elm. You are too anxious in your zeal for me.