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Countess D'Aulnoy (born 1650, died 1705), who is likewise known by other works, lived at the same time as Perrault. She must have written her stories, or at any rate a portion of them, after the publication of his, and therefore in her later years; for in La Chatte blanche, No. 19, she mentions Le Peau d'Ane, La Belle au bois dormant, and Le Chat bottée, and, by the two last, certainly means Perrault's stories. However, she has not copied from him, for her collection is both worse and better. Worse, inasmuch as in it the traditions are less faithfully adhered to, additions, amplifications, verses, and moral reflexions, are intermingled with them, and the material is freely handled. Tradition however forms the basis of a large number of these stories, as in Perrault's, and the rest, which are pure inventions, are easily distinguishable by their want of intrinsic value. The Blue Bird, one of the finest, is a very remarkable proof of this, as it is unmistakably to be found in the poems of Marie de France, who was already living in the beginning of the 13th century. It is the Lai of Yvenec (272-313), a Gallic saga, which therefore continued to exist on the soil of France until the 18th century. Only the three last (Nos. 22, 23, and 24) have been borrowed by means of a French translation from Straparola. It is easy to see that they have been altered, and for what reason, D'Aulnoy's style cannot be called unskilful; on the contrary, it evinces a dexterous and already practised hand; much is related gracefully, and many things are naïvely and simply expressed, still these tales could not obtain universal circulation, as they were only adapted to children of the high rank to which the authoress herself belonged. There is too much ornament and sumptuousness, and also too much French sentimentality in them. We are conscious of the over-refined and elegant manners of the age of Louis XIV., while, on the other hand, we feel the want of something natural and fresh, and of the simplicity—and if the expression will not be misconstrued—the homeliness, which in conjunction with wonders of all kinds, always manifests itself in genuine stories. They are, however, better than those of Perrault, inasmuch as they are often founded on a tradition which is rich and beautiful in itself; and we are inclined, especially on first reading them, to regard as an excellence the artistic way in which the author weaves her incidents together, and the skill which she frequently exhibits in shaping her stories and working them up into little romances. If these artistic embellishments had but occurred in a poem it would have been impossible to understand why Perrault, with fewer