His first novels were also published then; he took part of the risk,
and only four copies were sold. He afterward used the ideas in more
mature works, as Mr. Sheridan Le Fanu employed three or four times
(with perfect candour and fairness) the most curious incident in
"Uncle Silas." Like Mr. Arthur Pendennis, Dumas at this time wrote
poetry "up to" pictures and illustrations. It is easy, but seldom
lucrative work. He translated a play of Schiller's into French
verse, chiefly to gain command of that vehicle, for his heart was
fixed on dramatic success. Then came the visit of Kean and other
English actors to Paris. He saw the true Hamlet, and, for the first
time on any stage, "the play of real passions." Emulation woke in
him: a casual work of art led him to the story of Christina of
Sweden, he wrote his play Christine (afterward reconstructed); he
read it to Baron Taylor, who applauded; the Comedie Francaise
accepted it, but a series of intrigues disappointed him, after all.
His energy at this moment was extraordinary, for he was very poor,
his mother had a stroke of paralysis, his bureau was always bullying
and interfering with him. But nothing could snub this "force of
nature," and he immediately produced his Henri Trois, the first
romantic drama of France. This had an instant and noisy success,
and the first night of the play he spent at the theatre, and at the
bedside of his unconscious mother. The poor lady could not even
understand whence the flowers came that he laid on her couch, the
flowers thrown to the young man--yesterday unknown, and to-day the
most famous of contemporary names. All this tale of triumph,
checkered by enmities and diversified by duels, Dumas tells with the
vigour and wit of his novels. He is his own hero, and loses nothing
in the process; but the other characters--Taylor, Nodier, the Duc
d'Orleans, the spiteful press-men, the crabbed old officials--all
live like the best of the persons in his tales. They call Dumas