Literature and knowledge were at a low ebb in France when Louis XIV. began to reign. The genius of the people had, previously to Corneille, displayed itself in no great national poem. Its instincts for poetry, owing, perhaps, to the faulty nature of the language, had confined itself to songs and ballads, inimitable for a certain charming elegant simplicity, but with no pretension to the praise due to a high order of imagination. Corneille, in his majesty and power, stood alone. Then had come Molière, who detected and held up to ridicule the false taste of the age. Yet, in spite of his attacks, this false taste in part subsisted; and there were several of the favourite authors of the day whose works excited Boileau's spleen, and roused him to the task of satire. Chapelain may be mentioned as the chief among them. Jean Chapelain was a Parisian, and a member of the French academy. He was much patronised by the minister Colbert; and, under his auspices, the king not only granted him a pension, but entrusted to his care the making out a list of the chief literary men of Europe, towards whom Louis, in a spirit of just munificence, inspired by Colbert, allowed pensions, in token that their labours deserved assistance or reward. Jean Chapelain, an upright, a clever, and a generous man, was thus exalted to the head of the republic of letters; and was seduced by the voice of praise to write a poem on the subject of the Maid of Orleans. The topic was popular: while in progress. Chapelain enjoyed an anticipated reputation on the strength of it; and the duke de Longueville allowed him a pension; but as soon as the "Pucelle" was published, which rash act he did not venture on for a number of years, his fame as a poet fell to the ground; epigrams rained on the unfortunate epic, and Boileau brought up the rear with pointed well-turned sarcasms. As the friend of Colbert, as an amiable man of acknowledged talents. Chapelain had many partisans. The duke de Montauzier[80], a satirist himself in his youth, was furious, and declared that Boileau ought to be tossed into the river, that he might rhyme there. Other friends of Chapelain remonstrated; but their representations turned to the amusement of the satirist. "Chapelain is my friend," said the abbé de la Victoire, "and I grieve that you have named him in your satires. It is true, if he followed my advice, he would not write poetry; prose suits him much better."--"And what more do I say?" cried Boileau: "I repeat in verse what every one else says in prose: I am, in truth, the secretary of the public."[81]