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Updated: May 29, 2025
Jusserand points to his ‘Jack Wilton’—‘The best specimen of the picturesque tale in English literature anterior to Defoe.’ In Lowestoft they ought to keep his memory green.
It is difficult nowadays to conceive that, within half a century of his death, Ronsard's fame suffered so dark an eclipse that no new edition of his works was called for between 1629 and 1857. When he died, he was, as M. Jusserand reminds us, the most illustrious man of letters in Europe. He seemed, too, to have all those gifts of charm charm of mood and music which make immortality certain.
Jusserand, the author referred to, in his accounts of the English novel in the time of Shakespeare, tells us Nash was the most successful exponent in England of the picturesque novel. The picturesque novel is the forerunner of the realistic novel of modern times. It portrays the life and fortunes of the picaro—the adventurer who tries all roads to fortune.
During the exciting days of August, 1914, I was calling at the belligerent embassies and legations in Washington. Neither M. Jusserand, the French Ambassador, nor Sir Cecil Spring-Rice, the British Ambassador, nor Count von Bernstorff, the Kaiser's representative, were in Washington then. But it was not many weeks until all three had hastened to this country from Europe.
Such references as that directed at the French Ambassador, M. Jules Jusserand, now dean of the diplomatic corps, whom he called "the magpie," cost him many friends. Upon the inauguration of President Wilson Mr. Knox slipped quietly away to Valley Forge. Public life, however, still had for him its attractions, and when Senator Oliver retired, he returned to the Senate.
"I certainly hope that you will entertain it cordially," said Mr. Straus. "Not cordially that is a little too strong." "Well, sympathetically?" "Yes, sympathetically," said M. Jusserand, with a smile. A despatch from the latter to the British Ambassador in Washington gives a splendid summary of the British attitude on such approaches at this time.
M. Jusserand lays great stress on the plain-spokenness of Ronsard. He praises especially the courage with which the poet often spoke out his mind to kings and churchmen, though no man could write odes fuller of exaggerated adulation when they were wanted. He sometimes counselled kings, we are told, "in a tone that, after all our revolutions, no writer would dare to employ to-day."
About half-way down the avenue we heard a few cries of "Vive la Russie," and then came a burst of cheers. Our dinner was rather pleasant that evening. We had the Préfet, M. Sebline; Senator of the Aisne, Jusserand, present Ambassador to Washington; Mme. Thénard, of the Comédie Française, and several young people.
M. Jusserand, in a most interesting chapter, relates the story of the battles over form and language which were fought by French men of letters in the days of La Pléiade. In an age of awakenings, of conquests, of philosophies, of discussions on everything under the sun, the literature of tricksters was ultimately bound to give way before the bold originality and the sincerities of the new school.
My husband came down to us for long week-ends, and as soon as we had provided ourselves with the absolute necessaries of life, visitors began to arrive: Professor and Mrs. Huxley; Sir Alfred Lyall; M. Jusserand, then Conseiller d'Ambassade under M. Waddington, now the French Ambassador to Washington; Mr. and Mrs.
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