Charles Perrault, as he tells us in his Mémoires (1769, Patte, Paris; 1 vol. in 12), was born at Paris, on January 12, 1628. At the age of nine he was sent to the Collége de Beauvais, and was aided in his studies by his father, at home. He was always at the head of his form, after leaving the Sixth (the lowest) which he entered before he had quite learned to read. He was not a prodigy of precocious instruction, happily for himself. He preferred exercises in verse, and excelled in these, though the gods had not made him poetical. In the class of Philosophy he was deeply interested, wrangling with his teacher, and maintaining, characteristically, that his arguments were better than the stock themes, 'because they were new.' Thus the rebel against the Ancients raised his banner at school, where one recruit flocked to it, a boy called Beaurin. Young Perrault and his friend took a formal farewell of their master, and solemnly seceded to the garden of the Luxembourg, where they contrived a plan of study for themselves. For three or four years they read together as chance or taste directed: this course had not in it the making of a scholar.
Perrault's first literary effort was a burlesque of the Sixth book of the Æneid, a thing rather too sacred for parody in Scarron's manner. His brother the doctor took a hand in this labour, and Perrault says 'the MS. is on the shelf where there are no books but those written by members of the Family.' The funniest thing was held to be the couplet on the charioteer Tydacus, in the shades,
Qui, tenant l'ombre d'une brosse, Nettoyait l'ombre d'un carrosse.
Perrault, as a young man, was moderately interested in the fashionable controversy about Grace, pouvoir prochain et pouvoir éloigné, and the jargon of the quarrel between Port Royal and the Jesuits. His brother, a doctor of the Sorbonne, explained the question, 'and we saw there was nothing in it to justify the noise it made.' He persuaded himself, however, that this little conference was the occasion of the Lettres Provinciales. The new Editor will doubtless deal with this pretension when he comes to publish Pascal's Life in the series of Grands Ecrivains de la France. Unlike Perrault, Pascal thought 'que le sujet des disputes de Sorbonne étoit bien important et d'une extrême conséquence pour la religion.'
The first of the Provincial Letters is dated January 23, 1656. Charles Perrault was now twenty-eight. In 1651 he had taken his licences at Orleans, where degrees were granted with scandalous readiness. Perrault and his friends wakened the learned doctors in the night, returned ridiculous answers to their questions, chinked their money in their bags,—and passed. The same month they were all admitted to the Bar. His legal reading was speculative, and he proposed the idea of codifying the various customs; but the task waited for Napoleon. Wearying of the Bar he accepted a place under his brother, Receiver-General of Paris. In this occupation he remained from 1654 to 1664. He had plenty of leisure for study, his brother had bought an excellent library, and Perrault speaks of 'le plaisir que j'eus de me voir au milieu de tant de bons livres.' He made verses, which were handed about and attributed to Quinault. That poet, getting a copy from Perrault, permitted a young lady whom he was courting to think they were his own. Perrault claimed them, and 'M. Quinault se trouvait un peu embarrassé.' However, when Quinault said that a lady was in the case, the plagiary was forgiven. Perrault afterwards wrote a defence of his Alceste. A trifling piece which Perrault composed on this little affair pleased Fouquet, who had it copied on vellum, with miniatures and gilt capitals.
In 1657 Perrault directed the construction of a house for his brother. The skill and taste he shewed induced Colbert to make him his subaltern in the superintendence of the Royal buildings, in 1663. A vision of a completed Louvre, and of 'obelisks, pyramids, triumphal arches, and mausoleums,' floated before the mind of Colbert. Then there would be fêtes and masquerades to describe, and as Chapelain recommended Perrault, who was already the author of some loyal odes, (such as the wise write about Jubilee times,) he finally received an elegant appointment, with 500, later 1000 livres a year. This he enjoyed till 1683. A little Academy of Medals and Inscriptions grew into existence: Perrault edited panegyrics on the king, and made designs for Gobelin tapestries.
Perrault's next feat was the suggestion of the peristyle of the Louvre, introduced into the design of his brother Claude, the architect. After the Chevalier Bernini had been summoned from Rome to finish the Louvre, and had been treated with sumptuous hospitality, a variety of disputes and difficulties arose, and, by merit or favour, the plan of Perrault's brother, Claude, by profession a physician, was chosen and executed. People said 'que l'architecture devoit être bien malade, puisqu'on la mettait entre les mains des médecins.'
'M. Colbert asked me for news of the Academy, supposing that I was a member. I told him that I could not satisfy him, as I had not the honour of belonging to that company. He seemed surprised, and said I ought to be admitted. "'Tis a set of men for whom the king has a great regard, and as business prevents me from often attending their councils, I should be glad to hear from you what passes. You should stand at the next vacancy."' So writes Perrault, and he did become a candidate for Immortality. But a lady had begged the next place for an Abbé, and next time, a doctor had secured it for a curé. Finally, the Academy elected Perrault, he says, without any canvass on his part. Perrault introduced election for the Academy by ballot, and he himself invented and provided a little balloting machine, which he does not describe. One day when the King was being publicly rubbed down after a game at tennis, an Academician prayed that the Academy might be allowed to read addresses to his Majesty. The King, who had probably given some courtier the side walls and a beating, graciously permitted the Academy to add its voice to the chorus of flattery. Perrault now disported himself among harangues, the new Versailles fountains, grottoes, arches of triumph, and royal devices, his brother executing his designs. They were sunny years, and Le Roi Soleil beamed upon the house of Perrault. But a dispute between his brother, the receiver of taxes, and Colbert caused a coolness between Charles Perrault and the Minister. M. Perrault also married a young lady to please himself, not to please Colbert. But, before leaving the service of the Minister, the good Perrault had succeeded in saving the Tuileries gardens for the people of Paris, and for the children, when it was proposed to reserve them to the Royal use. 'I am persuaded,' he said, 'that the gardens of Kings are made so great and spacious that all their children may walk in them.' We owe Perrault less gratitude for aiding Lulli, who obtained the monopoly of Opera, a privilege adverse to the interests of Molière. If Perrault thought at all of the interests of Molière, he probably remembered that his own brother was a physician, and that physicians were Molière's favourite butts. 'Il ne devait pas tourner en ridicule les bons Médecins, que l'Ecriture nous enjoint d'honorer,' says Perrault in his Eloges des Hommes Illustres (1696-1700). Molière's own influence with the king corrected the influence of Lulli, and he obtained the right to give musical pieces, in spite of Lulli's privilege, but he did not live long to enjoy it[1].
Ten years afterwards Colbert became si difficile et si chagrin, that Perrault withdrew quietly from his service. He had been employed in public functions for twenty years (1663-1683), he was over fifty, and he needed rest. Louvois excluded him on the death of Colbert from the petite Académie. He devoted himself to the education of his children, who were 'day-boarders' at the colleges, and returned at night to the paternal house in the Faubourg St. Jacques. 'Les mœurs ne sont pas en si grande sûreté' at a public school, Perrault thought. In 1686 he published his 'Saint Paulin Evesque de Nole, avec une Epistre Chrestienne sur la Penitence, et une Ode aux Nouveaux Convertis.' (Paris, J. R. Coignard.) It is dedicated to Bossuet, in a letter, and Perrault trusts that great poets will follow his example, and write on sacred subjects. Happily his example was not followed, la raillerie et l'amour possessing stronger attractions for minstrels, as Perrault complains. He throws his stone at Comedy, which Bossuet notably disliked and condemned. But this did not prevent Perrault, seven years later, from writing little comedies of his own. Saint Paulin is prettily illustrated with vignettes on copper after Sebastien le Clerc, vignettes much better than those which hardly decorate Histoires ou Contes du Tems passé. An angel appearing to Saint Paulin in gardens exactly like the parterres of Versailles is particularly splendid and distinguished. As for the poem, 'qui eut assez de succès malgré les critiques de quelques personnes d'esprit,' the story is not badly told, for the legend of the Bishop has a good deal of the air of a conte, reclaimed for sacred purposes. The Ode aux Nouveaux Convertis is not a success. Perrault comparing Reason to Faith, says that Reason makes the glories beheld by Faith disappear, as the Sun scatters the stars. This was an injudicious admission. The Saint Paulin may be bought for two or three francs, while the Histoires ou Contes, when last sold by public auction in the original edition (Nodier's copy, at the Hamilton Sale, May 1884), fetched £85. It is a commercial but not inaccurate test of merit.
Perrault's Mémoires end just where they begin to be interesting. He tells us how he read his poem Le Siècle de Louis XIV, to the Academy, how angrily Boileau declared that the poem was an insult to the great men of times past, how Huet took Perrault's side, how Boileau wrote epigrams against him, how Racine pretended not to think him in earnest, and how he defended himself in Le Parallèle des Anciens et des Modernes. Here close the Memoirs, and the hero of the great Battle of the Books leaves its tale untold.