be able to
prove him wrong? I am quite sure that I shall be right to-day; if he is
not of my opinion,--he will be wrong." And, going to M. Arnauld's, where
he found a large company, be set about developing his thesis, pulling out
_Phedre,_ and maintaining that if tragedy were dangerous, it was the
fault of the poets. The younger theologians listened to him
disdainfully, but at last M. Arnauld said out loud, "If things are as he
says, he is right, and such tragedy is harmless." Boileau declared that
he had never felt so pleased in his life. M. Arnauld being reconciled to
_Phedre,_ the principal step was made next day the author of the tragedy
presented himself. The culprit entered, humility and confusion depicted
on his face; he threw himself at the feet of M. Arnauld, who took him in
his arms; Racine was thenceforth received into favor by Port-Royal. The
two friends were preparing to set out with the king for the campaign of
1677. The besieged towns opened their gates before the poets had left
Paris. "How is it that you had not the curiosity to see a siege?" the
king asked them on his return: "it was not a long trip." "True, sir,"
answered Racine, always the greater courtier of the two, "but our tailors
were too slow. We had ordered travelling suits; and when they were
brought home, the places which your Majesty was besieging were taken."
Louis XIV. was not displeased. Racine thenceforth accompanied him in all
his campaigns; Boileau, who ailed a great deal, and was of shy
disposition, remained at Paris. His friend wrote to, him constantly, at
one time from the camp and at another from Versailles, whither he
returned with the king. "Madame de Maintenon told me, this, morning,"
writes Racine, "that the king had fixed our pensions at four thousand
francs for me and two thousand for you: that is, not including our
literary pensions. I have just come from thanking the king. I laid more
stress upon your case than even my own. I said, in as many words, 'Sir,
he has more wit than ever, more zeal for your Majesty, and more desire to
work for your glory than ever he had.' I am, nevertheless, really pained
at the idea of my getting more than you. But, independently of the
expenses and fatigue of the journeys, from which I am glad that you are
delivered, I know that you are so noble-minded and so friendly, that I am
sure you would be heartily glad that I were even better treated. I shall
be very pleased if you are