pire (for in the widest
sense the eighteenth century of literature does not cease till the
Restoration, or even later), the average literary value of what is
written in French is but small, and, with few exceptions, what is
valuable belongs to those who, consciously or unconsciously, were in an
attitude of revolt, and were clearing the way for the men of 1830.

[Sidenote: especially manifest in Poetry.]

Poetry and the drama naturally suffered most from this course of events,
and poetry pure and simple suffered even more than the drama. By the
opening of the eighteenth century epic and lyric in the proper sense had
been rendered nearly impossible by the full and apparently final
adoption of the conception of poetry recommended by Malherbe, and
finally rendered orthodox by Boileau. The impossibility was not
recognised, and France, in the opinion of her own critics, at last got
her epic poem in the _Henriade_, and her perfect lyrists in Rousseau and
Lebrun. But posterity has not ratified these judgments. Fortunately,
however, the men of the eighteenth century had in La Fontaine a model
for lighter work which their principles permitted them to follow, and
the irresistible attractions of the song left song-writers tolerably
free from the fatal restrictions of dignified poetry. Once, towards the
close of the century, a poet of exceptional genius, Andre Chenier,
showed what he might have done under happier circumstances. But for the
most part the history of poetry during this time in France is the
history of verse almost uninspired by the poetic spirit, and destitute
even of the choicer graces of poetic form.

[Sidenote: J. B. Rousseau.]

For convenience' sake it will be well to separate the graver and the
lighter poets, and to treat each in order, with the proviso that in most
cases those mentioned in the first division have some claim to figure in
the second also, for few poets of the time were wholly serious. The
first poet who is distinctively of the eighteenth century, and not the
least remarkable, was Jean Baptiste Rousseau[284] (1669-1741).
Rousseau's life was a singular and rather an unfortunate one. In the
first place he was exiled for a piece of scandalous literature, of which
in all probability he was quite guiltless; and, in the second, meeting
in his exile with Voltaire, who professed (and seems really to have
felt) admiration for him, he offended the irritable disciple and was
long the butt of his attacks. H