ed his advice, and produced a
tragedy which roused all France to enthusiasm. Paris was one prolonged
storm of applause, and when one praised an object, he said "It is fine
as the _Cid!_" The play was translated into the different languages of
all the civilized nations. Fontenelle says: "I knew two men, a soldier
and a mathematician, who had never heard of any other play that had
ever been written, but the name of Cid had penetrated even the barbarous
state in which they lived."

The dramatist had enemies--no man can quickly achieve renown without
making them--and some of them were exceedingly bitter in their attacks
upon him. Richelieu, the cardinal, was excessively annoyed that the man
he had reprimanded should have achieved success, and the French Academy
of Criticism, which was deeply under his influence, after discussions
decided somewhat against "The Cid." This suited the cardinal, but the
poet kept a wise silence, making no reply.

The next effort of Corneille was that resulting in the tragedy of
"_Horace_," which was a master-piece, and was received with unbounded
applause. He surpassed this effort, however, in his next piece, called
"_Cinna_." After this--which many consider his best drama--came
"_Polyeceute"_, a beautiful piece. In it the Christian virtues are
illustrated, and when read before a conclave of learned men, they
deputied Voiture to the poet, to induce him, if possible, to withdraw
it, for the christianity in it the people would not endure. But the play
went to the people without amendment, and so beautiful was its
character, and so delightful the acting, that it carried away the hearts
of the listeners.

Corneille now tried again to write comedy, but did not succeed so well
as in tragedy. He triumphed, however, over a rival, and that to him was
something, though the play is an inferior one. From this time the poet
wrote no better, but in truth worse and worse. He did not fail to write
beautiful scenes, but failed in selecting good subjects. He established
himself in Paris, and could do so with comfort, for the king bestowed a
pension upon him. Before this he had resided at Rouen, running up to
Paris quite often. In 1642 he was elected a member of the French
Academy. He was never a courtier, and was not fitted to shine in gay
Parisian circles. His tastes were very simple, and he was in his manners
like a rustic. To see him in a drawing-room you would not think the man
a genius, nor even a bright