adapted to the needs of the people. For several reasons:
The language. It is a fact that the form of a tragedy or a drame "dates" more quickly than that of a comedy; at least, it sooner ceases to be understood by the public. It is not so realistic, and depends less upon the observation of human nature; it is more subjective, more personal; it bears the imprint of the epoch and the nation more unmistakably. The poet's imagination receives its nourishment from the atmosphere of the century, from the esthetic conventions with which he has been surrounded. Nothing goes out of fashion more readily than a poetic metaphor—when the poet has lived in court life or in salons, the intellectual baggage of which changes completely every ten or twenty years. And so his images often become unintelligible except to the cultured few, who find a charm in the unusual and surprising—be they of the strange burning variety of Shakespeare, or delicate and out-of-date, as with our classic writers. Besides, Corneille's style is particularly obscure. Except at the culminating points in the action, it is abstract, involved, incorrect, and occasionally enigmatic; even in his day people spoke of the Cornelian jargon. This is not always, however, an unsurmountable obstacle to popular appreciation, since the people listen only for the thundering passages, and it is the general impression which affects them. But this ought to be realized as a matter for regret, this stupid fascination of mere words, disarming reason; it has
