heory of the gifted creature who wrote that the works of the master
wizard are 'like summer fruits brought forth abundantly in the full blaze
of sunshine, which do not keep'--if this preposterous fantasy be
generally accepted, there will yet be much in Dumas to venerate and love.
If _Antony_ were of no more account than an ephemeral burlesque; if _la
Reine Margot_ and the immortal trilogy of the Musketeers--that 'epic of
friendship'--were dead as morality and as literature alike; if it were
nothing to have re-cast the novel of adventure, formulated the modern
drama, and perfected the drama of incident; if to have sent all France to
the theatre to see in three dimensions those stories of Chicot, Edmond
Dantes, d'Artagnan, which it knew by heart from books were an achievement
within the reach of every scribbler who dabbles in letters; if all this
were true, and Dumas were merely a piece of human journalism, produced to-
day and gone to-morrow, there would still be enough of him to make his a
memorable name. He was a prodigy--of amiability, cleverness, energy,
daring, charm, industry--if he was nothing else. Gronow tells that he
has sat at table with Dumas and Brougham, and that Brougham, out-faced
and out-talked, was forced to quit the field. 'J'ai conserve,' says M.
Maxime du Camp, in his admirable _Souvenirs litteraires_, 'd'Alexandre
Dumas un souvenir ineffacable; malgre un certain laisser-aller qui tenait
a l'exuberance de sa nature, c'etait un homme _dont tous les sentiments
etaient eleves_. On a ete injuste pour lui; comme il avait enormement
d'esprit, on l'a accuse d'etre leger; comme il produisait avec une
facilite incroyable, on l'a accuse de gacher la besogne, et, comme il
etait prodigue, on l'a accuse de manquer de tenue. Ces reproches m'ont
toujours paru miserables.' This is much; but it is not nearly all. He
had, this independent witness goes on to note, 'une generosite naturelle
qui ne comptait jamais; il ressemblait a une corne d'abondance qui se
vide sans cesse dans les mains tendues; _la moitie_, _sinon plus_, _de
l'argent gagne par lui a ete donnee_.' That is true; and it is also true
that he gave at least as largely of himself--his prodigious temperament,
his generous gaiety, his big, manly heart, his turn for chivalry, his
gallant and delightful genius--as of his money. He was reputed a violent
and luxurious debauchee; and he mostly lived in an attic--(the worst room
in the house and therefore th