jealousy of Corneille, were not mistaken; Bajazet is no
Turk, but he is none the less very human. "There are points by which men
recognize themselves, though there is no resemblance; there are others in
which there is resemblance without any recognition. Certain sentiments
belong to nature in all countries; they are characteristic of man only,
and everywhere man will see his own image in them." [_Corneille et son
temps,_ by M. Guizot.] Racine's reputation went on continually
increasing; he had brought out _Mithridate_ and _Iphigenie; Phedre_
appeared in 1677. A cabal of great lords caused its failure at first.
When the public, for a moment led astray after the _Phedre_ of Pradon,
returned to the master-work of Racine, vexation and wounded pride had
done their office in the poet's soul. Pious sentiments ever smouldering
in his heart, the horror felt for the theatre by Port-Royal, and
penitence for the sins he had been guilty of against his friends there,
revived within him; and Racine gave up profane poetry forever. "The
applause I have met with has often flattered me a great deal," said he at
a later period to his son, "but the smallest critical censure, bad as it
may have been, always caused me more of vexation than all the praises had
given me of pleasure." Racine wanted to turn Carthusian; his confessor
dissuaded him, and his friends induced him to marry. Madame Racine was
an excellent person, modest and devout, who never went to the theatre,
and scarcely knew her husband's plays by name; she brought him some
fortune. The king had given the great poet a pension, and Colbert had
appointed him to the treasury (_tresorier_) at Moulins. Louis XIV.,
moreover, granted frequent donations to men of letters. Racine received
from him nearly fifty thousand livres; he was appointed historiographer
to the king. Boileau received the same title; the latter was not
married, but Racine before long had seven children. "Why did not I turn
Carthusian!" he would sometimes exclaim in the disquietude of his
paternal affection when his children were ill. He devoted his life to
them with pious solicitude, constantly occupied with their welfare, their
good education, and the salvation of their souls. Several of his
daughters became nuns. He feared above everything to see his eldest son
devote himself to poetry, dreading for him the dangers he considered he
himself had run. "As for your epigram, I wish you had not written it,"