"Du magnanime Henri qu'il contemple la vie,
Des qu'il put se venger, il en perdit l'envie."
Louis, however, alike insensible to justice, mercy, and poetry, changed, by a mockery of commutation, the minister's sentence of banishment into solitary confinement for life. Colbert, the enemy and successor of Foucquet, could not forgive the crime of fidelity to a fallen patron in a poet, and took away La Fontaine's pension.
La Fontaine, it has been observed, was in his twenty-third year before he gave the least indication of the poetic faculty. He had passed his fortieth before his genius and reputation attained their full height and splendour. A small volume, entitled "Contes et Merveilles en vers," published with his name, in 1664, determined his place as a poet, established his supremacy over all fabulists, modern and ancient, and formed an epoch in French literature. His fortune did not improve with his fame. It is true that his celebrity made him known to the prince of Condé and the duke and abbé de Villars, by whom, as well as by the duchesses of Bouillon and Mazarin, he was occasionally and liberally supplied; but his want of all order and economy rendered their liberality unavailing, because it was irregular and occasional.
He joined in the universal pæan of the day to Louis XIV. His tale of "Psyche and Cupid" is disfigured by episodic descriptions of the magnificence of Versailles, with a due seasoning of compliment to the great king; but he continued unpatronised, even after the death of Colbert, whose injustice to La Fontaine is a stain upon his otherwise illustrious memory. The neglect, or, it may be termed, the exception of him by Louis, who was so munificent to other men of genius, has been accounted for.[49] That monarch admired and rewarded only those talents which ministered to his pride or his pleasures—to the splendours of his court or government. He had a taste only for the grand, the gorgeous, and the adulatory. Boileau owed the royal favour to two indifferent odes much more than to his satires, epistles, art of poetry, and Lutrin; and Molière, to those court ballets in which Louis danced, rather than to his dramatic chefs d'œuvre. Louis XIV. had the same distaste for La Fontaine as a poet and Teniers as a painter; and, from the same principle,—he could not admire humble subjects, treated in a true and simple, however charming, style. He would not condescend to understand the language of "Jean Lapin" and "Maître Corbeau." La Fontaine offered him incense in his way; but it was not of the kind acceptable to the idol; and he continued neglected, even when, in an evil hour, he sang the revocation of the edict of Nantes. La Fontaine was also in bad odour with the intriguing devotees of the court; and Louis, a weak bigot, with all his arrogance and pride, may have been indisposed towards him on this account, from their suggestions or his own.
The loss of his pension thus remained unsupplied; and he continued once more carelessly spending "son fonds aprez son revenu," when he came under the notice of the most accomplished, enlightened, and amiable princess of her time—Henrietta of England, daughter of Charles I., most unworthily married to the duke of Orleans, brother of Louis XIV. She attached him to her suite, as one of the gentlemen of her household, with a salary to receive, and no service, beyond some volunteer verses, to perform. But La Fontaine had not long enjoyed her patronage when the princess died, under suspicion of poison, regretted by all France, her husband excepted; and La Fontaine was once more in distress—if that to which he was wholly insensible can be so termed. He seems to have derived from nature the happy or unhappy insensibility to the accidents of life, which some ancient philosophers attained only through the severest exercise of reason and discipline.
It appears to have been his fortune to be indebted to the discernment and kindness of women. Among the persons uniting high rank to a taste for literature, with whom he became acquainted at Paris, was madame de la Sablière. This accomplished and kind-hearted woman, perceiving La Fontaine's utter inability to regulate the economy of the simplest household, relieved him of all care at once by giving him an apartment in her house. Here he passed twenty (the happiest) years of his life, relieved from all anxiety,—his wants supplied, and his humour indulged, with the utmost attention and kindness. Some of his pieces are dedicated to his benefactress, and he has celebrated her name in verse, but with reserve and delicacy. Madame de la Sablière had the good taste to control the poet's expression of his feelings in their particular relation to each other.
He composed during this period the most popular of his tales, "Joconde," and dedicated it to madame de la Sablière. It is the most justly admired of all his tales; and, being imitated from Ariosto, placed him in a state of rivalry with the great Italian poet. An officer in the household of the duke of Orleans, named Bouillon, gave at the same time a rival version, and persons were found courtly or tasteless enough to prefer it to La Fontaine's. The question was even made the subject of a wager; and the arbiter appealed to declined giving an opinion. Boileau did indignant justice to genius and his friend, and Bouillon's "Joconde" was no more heard of. "La Fontaine," says Boileau, "imitated Ariosto as Virgil imitated Homer, and Tasso Virgil; Bouillon like a trembling valet, who dared not put one foot before the other without his master's leave." He even insinuates that La Fontaine had treated the subject in a manner superior to Ariosto himself. There is, it is true, in La Fontaine's manner, a simplicity, and ease, and graceful levity, somewhat more suitable to the matter and to a mere fabulist. But those who are acquainted with the Italian poet will consider any deficiency of these minor graces in him much more than redeemed by his superior richness, and variety of invention, and vigour of imagination.
The society of madame de la Sablière comprised princes, nobles, poets, and philosophers. She cultivated science as well as literature,—but in secret. Bernier, who also had an apartment in her house, gave La Fontaine some notions in natural philosophy. It was under this influence, whilst his head was filled with physical science, that he wrote his poem on Jesuits' bark (Le Quinquina)—a dull production, on a barren subject; which, however, was not then quite so uninviting as it may appear now. Bark had just performed what were deemed marvellous cures on Louis XIV. and Colbert, and it was sold by the Jesuits at its weight in gold. Colbert had the littleness to be unjust to La Fontaine; but the poet had the magnanimity to be just to the minister. He alludes to him in this poem in a tone of manly, independent, and merited praise.