Bomons ici cette carri^re :

Les longs ouvrages me font peur,

says La Fontaine at the end of the first half of his
fables, and we think at once of the easy-going bon-
homme, who early in life found theological studies a
weariness of the flesh, gave them up without hesi-
tation, and Mived happily ever afterwards/ like a
princess in a fairy tale. And fifty fables hint his
confession that prosy talkers were no more to his
taste than lengthy volumes. 'Tout babillard, tout
censeur, tout p^ant ' ; they are all his enemies, and it
is with surprised disgust that he perceives how ' le
cr^ateur en a b^ni Tengeance.' Indeed he lets us
see everywhere his scant liking for important, and
especially self-important, people of all kinds. The
new splendour of the Court was the pride of France
in his day ; every one wanted to belong to it, and
those who could not wanted to know all they could
about it. No one spoke of it but with wondering
admiration. La Fontaine, on the other hand, often
alludes to courts and courtiers in his fables, and never
but with obvious dislike and contempt. ' Ce n'est
pas sur I'habit que la diversity me plait, c'est dans
Tesprit,' as he says in *The Leopard and the Monkey':
and ' oh I que de grands seigneurs,' so experience had
taught him, 'n'ont que Thabit pour tons talents!*
Indeed, whether he speaks in his own person or
through his birds and animals, he is always letting
us see his own likes and dislikes : and the general
lines of his portrait come out quite clear. He loves



112 THE CLAIMS OF FRENCH POETRY

liberty, not as the patriot loves it, but as the gipsy.
