THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART
Page: 17

which he had put up in Tours, and went to Vouvray, a rich and populous
district where the public mind seemed to him susceptible of
cultivation. Mounted upon his horse, he trotted along the embankment
thinking no more of his phrases than an actor thinks of his part which
he has played for a hundred times. It was thus that the illustrious
Gaudissart went his cheerful way, admiring the landscape, and little
dreaming that in the happy valleys of Vouvray his commercial
infallibility was about to perish.

Here a few remarks upon the public mind of Touraine are essential to
our story. The subtle, satirical, epigrammatic tale-telling spirit
stamped on every page of Rabelais is the faithful expression of the
Tourangian mind,--a mind polished and refined as it should be in a
land where the kings of France long held their court; ardent,
artistic, poetic, voluptuous, yet whose first impulses subside
quickly. The softness of the atmosphere, the beauty of the climate, a
certain ease of life and joviality of manners, smother before long the
sentiment of art, narrow the widest heart, and enervate the strongest
will. Transplant the Tourangian, and his fine qualities develop and
lead to great results, as we may see in many spheres of action: look
at Rabelais and Semblancay, Plantin the printer and Descartes,
Boucicault, the Napoleon of his day, and Pinaigrier, who painted most
of the colored glass in our cathedrals; also Verville and Courier. But
the Tourangian, distinguished though he may be in other regions, sits
in his own home like an Indian on his mat or a Turk on his divan. He
employs his wit in laughing at his neighbor and in making merry all
his days; and when at last he reaches the end of his life, he is still
a happy man. Touraine is like the Abbaye of Theleme, so vaunted in the
history of Gargantua. There we may find the complying sisterhoods of
that famous tale, and there the good cheer celebrated by Rabelais
reigns in glory.

As to the do-nothingness of that blessed land it is sublime and well
expressed in a certain popular legend: "Tourangian, are you hungry, do
you want some soup?" "Yes." "Bring your porringer." "Then I am not