RABELAIS 45 wicked man he must be ! Finally, I challenge al- together this charge against the French of want of earnestness. It is a common, narrow-minded English cant, quite unworthy of an accomplished gentleman like Mr, Besant. The great French people are no more to be judged by a few third-rate Parisian littera- teurs than the English by the popular lady novelists of the day. And if there is light life in Paris (as well as profoundly serious), how much of it is encouraged by foreigners, including the virtuous English and Americans — the two people who, as we are aware, have the monopoly of virtue on this terrestrial globe ? Were Pascal and his friends not earnest? Was not Fenelon? In our own day, Victor Hugo, Michelet, Quinet? The mass of the people sober, frugal, in- dustrious ? The men of the Revolutions, leaders of liberty in Europe, with their burning faith in humanity and progress, equality and fraternity? The French can laugh and enjoy themselves more gaily and grace- fully than we, without getting stolidly besotted; therefore they are frivolous ! They have had many pleasant humorists, therefore they are not earnest ! It might as well be argued from their jolly old songs and the glorious humou^ of Burns (whose laughter is rich and deep-chested as Rabelais') that the Scotch are without earnestness 1 On the whole, while conscious that I have neither the knowledge nor the intellect required for judging so large a question, I am inclined to look up to Rabelais as the greatest genius in French literature. Perhaps the very finest work in that literature has been done by Pascal, but Pascal's finest work is a series of fragments ; and while as profound, he is
