and princes of the Church. They loved and admired and protected Rabelais,
and put no restrictions in his way. Why should we be more fastidious and
severe than they were? Their high contemporary appreciation gives much
food for thought.

There are few translations of Rabelais in foreign tongues; and certainly
the task is no light one, and demands more than a familiarity with ordinary
French. It would have been easier in Italy than anywhere else. Italian,
from its flexibility and its analogy to French, would have lent itself
admirably to the purpose; the instrument was ready, but the hand was not
forthcoming. Neither is there any Spanish translation, a fact which can be
more easily understood. The Inquisition would have been a far more serious
opponent than the Paris' Sorbonne, and no one ventured on the experiment.
Yet Rabelais forces comparison with Cervantes, whose precursor he was in
reality, though the two books and the two minds are very different. They
have only one point in common, their attack and ridicule of the romances of
chivalry and of the wildly improbable adventures of knight-errants. But in
Don Quixote there is not a single detail which would suggest that Cervantes
knew Rabelais' book or owed anything to it whatsoever, even the
starting-point of his subject. Perhaps it was better he should not have
been influenced by him, in however slight a degree; his originality is the
more intact and the more genial.

On the other hand, Rabelais has been several times translated into German.
In the present century Regis published at Leipsic, from 1831 to 1841, with
copious notes, a close and faithful translation. The first one cannot be
so described, that of Johann Fischart, a native of Mainz or Strasburg, who
died in 1614. He was a Protestant controversialist, and a satirist of
fantastic and abundant imagination. In 1575 appeared his translation of
Rabelais' first book, and in 1590 he published the comic catalogue of the