cynical incredulity
and scorn of all religion are united with the most complete moral
licence; but hypocrisy is the fashion of the day, and Don Juan in
sheer effrontery will invest himself for an hour in the robe of a
penitent. Atheist and libertine as he is, there is a certain glamour
of reckless courage about the figure of his hero, recreated by Moliere
from a favourite model of Spanish origin. His comedy, while a vigorous
study of character, is touched with the light of romance.

These are masterpieces; but neither _Tartufe_ nor _Don Juan_
expresses so much of the mind of Moliere as does _Le Misanthrope_
(1666). His private griefs, his public warfare, had doubtless a little
hardened and a little embittered his spirit. In many respects it is
a sorry world; and yet we must keep on terms with it. The misanthropist
Alceste is nobly fanatical on behalf of sincerity and rectitude. How
does his sincerity serve the world or serve himself? And he, too,
has his dose of human folly, for is he not enamoured of a heartless
coquette? Philinte is accommodating, and accepts the world for what
it is; and yet, we might ask, is there not a more settled misanthropy
in such cynical acquiescence than there is in the intractable virtue
of Alceste? Alone of Moliere's plays, _Le Misanthrope_ has that
Shakespearean obscurity which leaves it open to various
interpretations. It is idle to try to discover actual originals for
the characters. But we may remember that when Alceste cried to
Celimene, "C'est pour mes peches que je vous aime," the actors who
stood face to face were Moliere and the wife whom he now met only
on the stage.

Moliere's genius could achieve nothing higher than _Tartufe_ and the
_Misanthrope_. His powers suffered no decline, but he did not again
put them to such strenuous uses. In 1668 the brilliant fantasy of
_Amphitryon_, freely derived from Plautus, was succeeded by an
admirable comedy in prose, _Georges Dandin_, in which the folly of
unequal marriage between the substantial farmer and the fine lady
is mocked with bitter gaiety. Before the year closed Moliere,
continuing to write in prose, returned to Plautus, and surpassed him
in _L'Avare_. To be rich and miserly is in itself a form of fatuity;
but Harpagon is not only miserly but amorous, as far as a ruling
passion will admit one of subordinate influence. _Le Bourgeois
Gentilhomme_ (1670), a lesson of good sense to those who suffer from
the social ambition to rise