the _Precieuses Ridicules_, in which many of them must have discovered
the resemblance to themselves, though the clever author professed only
to ridicule their imitators. _Les Femmes Savantes_, though produced
many years subsequently, also found the originals of its characters in
the same source whence Moliere painted _Les Precieuses Ridicules_.

I can fancy him slily listening to the theme proposed to the assembly
by Mademoiselle Scudery--the _Sarraides_, as she was styled--"Whether a
lover jealous, a lover despised, a lover separated from the object of
his tenderness, or him who has lost her by death, was to be esteemed
the most unhappy."

At a later period of his life, Moliere might have solved the question
from bitter personal experience, for few ever suffered more from the
pangs of jealousy, and assuredly no one has painted with such
vigour--though the comic often prevails over the serious in his
delineations--the effects of a passion any thing but comic to him.
Strange power of genius, to make others laugh at incidents which had
often tormented himself, and to be able to give humour to characters in
various comedies, actuated by the feelings to which he had so
frequently been a victim!

I can picture to myself the fair _Julie d'Angennes_, who bestowed not
her hand on the _Duc de Montausier_ until he had served as many years
in seeking it as Jacob had served to gain that of Rachel, and until she
had passed her thirtieth year (in order that his passion should become
as purified from all grossness, as was the language spoken among the
circle in which she lived), receiving with dignified reserve the finely
painted flowers and poems to illustrate them, which formed the
celebrated _Guirlande de Julie_, presented to her by her courtly
admirer.

I see pass before me the fair and elegant dames of that galaxy of wit
and beauty, Mesdames de Longueville, Lafayette, and de Sevigne,
fluttering their fans as they listened and replied to the gallant
compliments of Voiture, Menage, Chapelain, Desmarets, or De Reaux, or
to the _spirituelle causerie_ of Chamfort.

What a pity that a society, no less useful than brilliant at its
commencement, should have degenerated into a coterie, remarkable at
last but for its fantastic and false notions of refinement, exhibited
in a manner that deserved the ridicule it called down!

CHAPTER XII.

Spent last evening in the Rue d'Anjou: met there la Marquise de
Pouleprie, and the