ive to criticism, it embittered his
days with too keen a perception of the domestic miseries which all men
must alike undergo.

During a dramatic performance at St. Cyr, the youthful representative of
Esther suddenly forgot her part; the agitated poet exclaimed, "Oh,
mademoiselle, you are ruining my piece!" Terrified at this reprimand, the
young actress wept; the poet flew to her, wiped away her tears, and with
contagious sympathy shed tears himself. "I do not hesitate," says Louis
Racine, "to relate such minute circumstances, because this facility of
shedding tears shows the goodness of the heart, according to the
observation of the ancients--

[Greek:] "agathohi d aridakryes andres."

This morbid state of feeling made his whole literary life uneasy; unjust
criticism affected him as much as the most poignant, and there was nothing
he dreaded more than that his son should become a writer of tragedies. "I
will not dissimulate," he says, addressing his son, "that in the heat of
composition we are not sometimes pleased with ourselves; but you may
believe me, when the day after we look over our work, we are astonished
not to find that excellence we admired in the evening; and when we reflect
that even what we find good ought to be still better, and how distant we
are still from perfection, we are discouraged and dissatisfied. Besides
all this, although the approbation I have received has been very
flattering, the least adverse criticism, even miserable as it might be,
has always occasioned me more vexation than all the praise I received
could give me pleasure." And, again, he endeavours to impress on him that
the favour he received from the world he owed not to his verses. "Do not
imagine that they are my verses that attract all these kindnesses.
Corneille composes verses a hundred times finer than mine, but no one
regards him. His verses are only applauded from the mouths of the actors.
I do not tire men of the world by reciting my works; I never allude to
them; I endeavour to amuse them with matters which please them. My talent
in their company is, not to make them feel that I have any genius, but to
show them that they possess some themselves. When you observe the duke
pass several hours with me, you would be surprised, were you present, that
he frequently quits me without my having uttered three words; but
gradually I put him in a humour of chatting, and he leaves me more
satisfied with himself than with me." Wh