During the early part of the sixteenth century, all the ardor of the French mind was turned to the study of the dead languages; men of genius had no higher ambition than to excel in them, and many in their declining years went in their gray hairs to the schools where the languages of Homer and Cicero were taught. In civil and political society, the same enthusiasm manifested itself in the imitation of antique manners; people dressed in the Greek and Roman fashions, borrowed from them the usages of life, and made a point of dying like the heroes of Plutarch.
The religious reformation came soon after to restore the Christian, as the revival of letters had brought back the pagan antiquity. Ignorance was dissipated, and religion was disengaged from philosophy. The Renaissance, as the revival of antique learning was called, and the Reformation, at first made common cause. One of those who most eagerly imbibed the spirit of both was the Princess Marguerite de Valois (1492-1549), elder sister of Francis I., who obtained the credit of many generous actions which were truly hers. The principal work of this lady was "L'Heptaméron," or the History of the Fortunate Lovers, written on the plan and in the spirit of the Decameron of Boccaccio, a work which a lady of our times would be unwilling to own acquaintance with, much more to adopt as a model; but the apology for Marguerite must be found in the manners of the times. L'Heptaméron is the earliest French prose that can be read without a glossary.
In 1518, when Margaret was twenty-six years of age, she received from her brother a gifted poet as valet-de-chambre; this was Marot (1495-1544), between whom and the learned princess a poetical intercourse was maintained. Marot had imbibed the principles of Calvin, and had also drank deeply of the spirit of the Renaissance; but he displayed the poet more truly before he was either a theologian or a classical scholar. He may be considered the last type of the old French school, of that combination of grace and archness, of elegance and simplicity, of familiarity and propriety, which is a national characteristic of French poetic literature, and in which they have never been imitated.
Francis Rabelais (1483-1553) was one of the most remarkable persons that figured in the Renaissance, a learned scholar, physician, and philosopher, though known to posterity chiefly as an obscene humorist. He is called by Lord Bacon "the great jester of France." He was at first a monk of the Franciscan order, but he afterwards threw off the sacerdotal character, and studied medicine. From about the year 1534, Rabelais was in the service of the Cardinal Dubellay, and a favorite in the court circles of Paris and Rome. It was probably during this period that he published, in successive parts, the work on which his popular fame has rested, the "Lives of Gargantua and Pantagruel." It consists of the lives and adventures of these two gigantic heroes, father and son, with the waggeries and practical jokes of Panurge, their jongleur, and the blasphemies and obscenities of Friar John, a fighting, swaggering, drinking monk. With these are mingled dissertations, sophistries, and allegorical satires in abundance. The publication of the work created a perfect uproar at the Sorbonne, and among the monks who were its principal victims; but the cardinals enjoyed its humor, and protected its author, while the king, Francis I., pronounced it innocent and delectable. It became the book of the day, and passed through countless editions and endless commentaries; and yet it is agreed on all hands that there exists not another work, admitted as literature, that would bear a moment's comparison with it, for indecency, profanity, and repulsive and disgusting coarseness. His work is now a mere curiosity for the student of antique literature.
As Rabelais was the leading type of the Renaissance, so was Calvin (1509- 1564) of the Reformation. Having embraced the principles of Luther, he went considerably farther in his views. In 1532 he established himself at Geneva, where he organized a church according to his own ideas. In 1535 he published his "Institutes of the Christian Religion," distinguished for great severity of doctrine. His next most celebrated work is a commentary on the Scriptures.
Intellect continued to struggle with its fetters. Many, like Rabelais, mistrusted the whole system of ecclesiastical polity established by law, and yet did not pin their faith on the dictates of the austere Calvin. The almost inevitable consequence was a wide and universal skepticism, replacing the former implicit subjection to Romanism.
The most eminent type of this school was Montaigne (1533-1592), who, in his "Essays," shook the foundations of all the creeds of his day, without offering anything to replace them. He is considered the earliest philosophical writer in French prose, the first of those who contributed to direct the minds of his countrymen to the study of human nature. In doing so, he takes himself as his subject; he dissects his feelings, emotions, and tendencies with the coolness of an operating surgeon. To a singular power of self-investigation and an acute observation of the actions of men, he added great affluence of thought and excursiveness of fancy, which render him, in spite of his egotism, a most attractive writer. As he would have considered it dishonest to conceal anything about himself, he has told much that our modern ideas of decorum would deem better untold.
Charron (1541-1603), the friend and disciple of Montaigne, was as bold a thinker, though inferior as a writer. In his book, "De la Sagesse," he treats religion as a mere matter of speculation, a system of dogmas without practical influence. Other writers followed in the same steps, and affected, like him, to place skepticism at the service of good morals. "License," says a French writer, "had to come before liberty, skepticism before philosophical inquiry, the school of Montaigne before that of Descartes." On the other hand, St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), in his "Introduction to a Devout Life," and other works, taught that the only cure for the evils of human nature was to be found in the grace which was revealed by Christianity.
In these struggles of thought, in this conflict of creeds, the language acquired vigor and precision. In the works of Calvin, it manifested a seriousness of tone, and a severe purity of style which commanded general respect. An easy, natural tone was imparted to it by Amyot (1513-1593), professor of Greek and Latin at the University of Paris, who enriched the literature with elegant translations, in which he blended Hellenic graces with those strictly French.
2. LIGHT LITERATURE.—Ronsard (1524-1585), the favorite poet of Mary Queen of Scots, flourished at the time that the rage for ancient literature was at its height. He traced the first outlines of modern French poetry, and introduced a higher style of poetic thought and feeling than had hitherto been known. To him France owes the first attempt at the ode and the heroic epic; in the former, he is regarded as the precursor of Malherbe, who is still looked on as a model in this style, But Ronsard, and the numerous school which he formed, not only imitated the spirit and form of the ancients, but aimed to subject his own language to combinations and inversions like those of the Greek and Latin, and foreign roots and phrases began to overpower the reviving flexibility of the French idiom.