interposition of some influential friends; and, being heartily tired of the Brothers of St. Francis, from his painful experience of their tender mercies, he even obtained permission of the crafty, and not too pious Clement VII., to abandon the Order of the Cordeliers, though he had been admitted to the priesthood among them; whereupon, he joined the Fraternity of St. Benedict, whose formulary he professed in the Abbey of Maillezais. But, to quote his own favourite adage, cucullus non facit monachum. The disposition of Rabelais was little calculated for the restraints of a monastic life; he had received the tonsure, but his heart remained still uncircumcised; he had worn the cowl, but he made a very indifferent monk notwithstanding. He did not remain long with his new brethren; but, after wandering up and down the world for several years, at length came to Montpelier to study the profession of medicine in its celebrated school. The only benefit which he appears to have derived from his sojourn at Maillezais, was the acquaintance and friendship of Godfrey D'Estissac, Bishop of the Diocese, to whom he addressed his Letters from Rome, and dedicated his edition of the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, published at Lyons in 1532.* Rabelais seems to have passed through his course of medical study with considerable distinction; for he became a lecturer in the college of Montpelier, to a crowded auditory,† upon subjects connected with his new vocation; his portrait was publicly preserved, and honours are said to be still paid to his memory in that academy. He also reflected credit on his profession by the learning and ability exhibited in the edition of Hippocrates just referred to. The roving Friar, now a Doctor of Medicine, did not apparently remain any length of time at Montpelier, for in 1532, we find him at Lyons, which city he left two years after, to accompany John De Bellay on his embassy from Francis I. to the Papal Court. To this period belong most of the anecdotes related of him. They are, indeed, merely The family of D'Estissac were great patrons of literature in that day. Montaigne addressed to Madame D'Estissac the eighth chapter of the second book of his Essays,-a singular disquisition, by the way, to be dedicated to a lady, as any one will see who will take the trouble to read it. + Quum anno superiore Monspessuli Aphorismos Hippocratis, et deinceps Galeni artem medicam frequenti auditorio publice enarrarem, etc. Epist. Nuncup. Aph. Hippocr. Sugduni. Gryph. 1532. 16mo. Ed. Hujus. p. 384. loose traditions, perhaps without any real foundation, but they accord so well with the character of him, to whom they have been attributed, that, if they are not true, they might have been. Amongst others, there is one, which illustrates at once the wildness of his humour, the keenness of his sarcasm, his inclination towards the principles of the Reformation, and, at the same time, contains an allusion to his intimate relations with the Protestants of France. The story runs thus the Pope, having one day told him to demand. some favour, Rabelais requested excommunication. The pontifical court stood aghast with amazement at this singular and blasphemous petition. He was required to give the reasons for his strange and novel request. "Holy Father," said he, "I am a poor Frenchman, from the little village of Chinon, which has been frequently visited of late with the faggot-many of my relations, and other worthy people, have already been burnt there. Now, be it known to you, that, as I came towards Rome, we were detained by the cold at a wretched hut in the Tarentaise, where a poor woman, after a vain attempt to kindle a fire for us, exclaimed: Since the wood won't burn, it must, in good sooth, have been excommunicated by the Pope's own tongue.' Therefore, if your Holiness will only excommunicate me, I shall be in no danger henceforward of stake and faggot."* The rudeness and temerity of this reply naturally gave offence: Rabelais was compelled to leave Rome, and return with all possible speed to France. Not long after, however, he paid a second visit to the Holy See, on which occasion he succeeded in pacifying the Pope, and obtained from him the remission of his sins, and absolution for the unceremonious manner in which he had deserted the Benedictines of Maillezais. The pardon, however, seems to have been conditional, and accompanied with a requirement that he should again assume the duties of his clerical vocation; for, upon his final return to France, probably about 1536, he entered into the Monastery of St. Maur-des-Fossés. Here he abode until 1545, when Cardinal Du Bellay appointed him to the Curacy of Meudon, which he held till his death, and immortalized by his name, after having, no doubt, enacted to admiration therein, the part of his own Friar Jean des Entom There is another story of like audacity in the Notice sur Rabelais, p. vi. which we will not insert here. meures.* He died in the 70th year of his age, on the 9th of April, 1553, in the Rue-des-Jardins-St.-Paul, at Paris, which was only two leagues distant from his usual and official residence. If any credit is to be attached to the traditionary account of his death, his native character flashed forth, in his last moments, with the same recklessness and wild humour. which had distinguished his career through life. Shortly before he expired, he had himself carefully wrapped up in his cloak or domino, while he repeated the text, "Beati qui moriuntur in Domino," making a profane équivoque upon the words of Scripture. While he was lying in articulo mortis, a page came from the Cardinal Du Bellay to be informed of his state. 66 Tell my lord," said the dying wit, "the condition in which you see me: I depart to seek a great may-be. He has scaled the breach,-tell him to hold on where he is;-for yourself, you will always be a fool. Drop the curtain-the farce is over." So died Rabelais, full of years and of fame, but hardened in scepticism, which may have been, nevertheless, the comparatively harmless incredulity of the lips, engendered by the force of circumstances, in a mind oscillating between conflicting systems of theology, and fostered into the habit of regarding only the ridiculous side of every thing,-rather than that confirmed infidelity of the heart, which is at once the parent and the offspring of atheism. Rabelais was buried in the cemetery of St. Paul, close by the spot where he died: his body was laid at the foot of a tree, long preserved with jealous care out of respect to his memory: but it is little to the credit of the French people, that, while a thousand monuments to mere vain-glory, or undeserved reputation, crowd their capital, no sufficient honours have ever yet been paid to the grave, in which repose the ashes of the most remarkable, and certainly the most original of all the authors of France. Any attempt to form a precise estimate of the character * Brother John des Entommeures has been supposed by some of the commentators, without much reason, to represent the Cardinal de Lorraine ; by others, the Cardinal Du Bellay; by Le Molteux, the Cardinal de Châtillon; and by Ménage, Buinard, Prior of Sermaise in Anjou. pp. 430-1, 623. + Un grand peut-être, an expression which it is hazardous to translate. + Hallam, who is by no means partial to Rabelais, remarks of his principal work, that, "few (books) have more the stamp of originality, and show a more redundant fertility, always of language, and sometimes of imagination," etc. Hallam, Hist. Lit. etc., vol. i., p. 230. Am. Ed. of Rabelais, would, in all probability, prove to be fruitless. The incidents in his life that we are now able to gather, are much too scanty, disconnected and uncertain. We could not expect to elicit the true moral features of Swift and Sterne, from the Tale of a Tub and Tristram Shandy, and we are left in nearly this position with regard to Rabelais. A jovial disposition, which was content to take the world as he found it, enabled him to laugh at the follies of mankind without complaining of their ill usage, and to labour for their improvement, without assuming the morose asperity of the professed reformer. His religious opinions were probably as wavering as his career in life; he detested the monks, and ridiculed the corruptions of the Papacy, which induced him to lean decidedly towards the cause of the Reformation, though the differences of theological doctrine seem to have been little noted, or, if noted, disregarded from a preference for the less agitating indulgence of sceptical indifference. Yet he possessed a clear and bold mind, which carried him, in many respects, far beyond the narrow sophistries of his age, and places him in the rank of the great men of the world. The ebullience of his animal spirits often gave rise to a profane levity, and more frequently to an unpardonable obscenity, but it was the fountain whence flowed those rich and fertilizing streams of quaint humour, which may instruct as well as charm. His learning was very extensive, as is indicated by every page in his works. In this respect he resembled old Burton, and also in the singular facility with which he employed it, though he surpassed him in the happy mode of its application. De L'Aulnay is perhaps guiltless of any unpardonable exaggeration, when he says of him: "Rabelais united in himself the possession of all the sciences known in his time, and, like Picus Mirandola, could have sustained a thesis de omni scibili. He was a physician, naturalist, astronomer, mathematician, antiquary, jurist, philologist, musician, poet, natural philosopher, architect, theologian, and mythographer. He was, furthermore, skilled in Greek and Roman History and Literature, in the sciences of arms and of navigation, and in all the arts."* Of his chief work, the present editor well remarks, that "it would be almost ridiculous to dwell upon the merit of a book, which unites the truest comedy to the most profound erudi * p. 414. We suppose De L'Aulnay to be the editor of this edition. tion, a book, which was the delight of Molière and La Fontaine, a book, in which the least attentive reader cannot fail to discover, at every page, traces of expressions which those great writers have not disdained to borrow from him." He might have added, a book which delighted Montaigne,t-elicited the commendations of the grave De Thou, which Shakspeare has not hesitated to consult,§and which has been the especial gratification of all who have read it and could understand it. The private life of Rabelais is enveloped in even more impenetrable obscurity than his character. His laughing face, bull neck, and aldermanic proportions, as exhibited in his portrait, might justify the supposition that he was given to the convivialities of life, and not insensible to the revelations of a good kitchen. We can conceive him joining with Panurge in the cry of "vive la roustisserye," or telling the hour, like Frere Jan des Entommeures, "en las cendent des broches et horoscope des fricassees," or studying his Missal when "son ame estoyt dans la cuisine." His Gargantua and Pantagruel form a drinking song from beginning to end, and such might have been his life, with his own verses as a text: Leuer matin nest point bon heur, Boyre matin est le meilleur, or, in kindred doggrel: No good can come from early rising,- But when we remember the Apician joys and gluttonous conceptions of Wilson's Noctes Ambrosianæ, we must admit that Rabelais may have been temperate, notwithstanding eating and drinking form the burden of his song. We have nothing to indicate that Rabelais was abundantly furnished with this world's gear, but every thing to produce a reasonable presumption of the contrary. We may infer, as well from his history as his expressions, that he, like his own * Notice sur Rabelais, p. vii. + Ess. liv. ii., c. x. "Scriptum edidit ingeniosissimum, quo vitæ regnique cunctos ordines, quasi in scenam, sub fictis nominibus produxit, et populo deridendos propinavit." Thuani Comm. De Vit. Propria lib. vi. cit. p. 415. § The celebrated passage, "I'll match you with thievery," etc., is from liv. iii., chap. iii. iv., and there are many others where Shakspeare's imitation of Rabelais is palpable. |