sidered as the basis of the
dramatic glory of Moliere, and the dawn of good comedy in France. The
satire aimed at a coterie of wits who set themselves up as arbiters of
taste and fashion, and was welcomed with enthusiastic applause, most of
them being present at the first exhibition, to behold the fine fabric,
which they had been so painfully constructing, brought to the ground by a
single blow. "And these follies," said Menage to Chapelin, "which you and
I see so finely criticised here, are what we have been so long admiring.
We must go home and burn our idols." "Courage, Moliere," cried an old man
from the pit; "this is genuine comedy." The price of the seats was
doubled from the time of the second representation. Nor were the effects
of the satire merely transitory. It converted an epithet of praise into
one of reproach; and a _femme precieuse_, a _style precieux_, a _ton
precieux_, once so much admired, have ever since been used only to
signify the most ridiculous affectation. There was, in truth, however,
quite as much luck as merit, in this success of Moliere; whose production
exhibits no finer raillery, or better sustained dialogue, than are to be
found in many of his subsequent pieces. It assured him, however, of his
own strength, and disclosed to him the mode in which he should best hit
the popular taste. "I have no occasion to study Plautus or Terence any
longer," said he, "I must henceforth, study the world." The world
accordingly was his study; and the exquisite models of character which it
furnished him, will last as long as it shall endure.

Though an habitual valetudinarian, Moliere relied almost wholly on the
temperance of his diet for the reestablishment of his health. "What use
do you make of your physician?" said the king to him one day. "We chat
together, Sire," said the poet. "He gives me his prescriptions; I never
follow them; and so I get well."

In Moliere's time, the profession of a comedian was but lightly esteemed
in France at this period. Moliere experienced the inconveniences
resulting from this circumstance, even after his splendid literary career
had given him undoubted claims to consideration. Most of our readers no
doubt, are acquainted with the anecdote of Belloc, an agreeable poet of
the court, who, on hearing one of the servants in the royal household
refuse to aid the author of the _Tartuffe_ in making the king's bed,
courteously requested "the poet to accept his services for that pu