vain: he had reason to be vain, and no candid or generous reader
will be shocked by his pleasant, frank, and artless enjoyment of
himself and of his adventures. Oddly enough, they are small-minded
and small-hearted people who are most shocked by what they call
"vanity" in the great. Dumas' delight in himself and his doings is
only the flower of his vigorous existence, and in his "Memoires," at
least, it is as happy and encouraging as his laugh, or the laugh of
Porthos; it is a kind of radiance, in which others, too, may bask
and enjoy themselves. And yet it is resented by tiny scribblers,
frozen in their own chill self-conceit.

There is nothing incredible (if modern researches are accurate) in
the stories he tells of his own success in Hypnotism, as it is
called now, Mesmerism or Magnetism as it was called then. Who was
likely to possess these powers, if not this good-humoured natural
force? "I believe that, by aid of magnetism, a bad man might do
much mischief. I doubt whether, by help of magnetism, a good man
can do the slightest good," he says, probably with perfect justice.
His dramatic success fired Victor Hugo, and very pleasant it is to
read Dumas' warm-hearted praise of that great poet. Dumas had no
jealousy--no more than Scott. As he believed in no success without
talent, so he disbelieved in genius which wins no success. "Je ne
crois pas au talent ignore, au genie inconnu, moi." Genius he
saluted wherever he met it, but was incredulous about invisible and
inaudible genius; and I own to sharing his scepticism. People who
complain of Dumas' vanity may be requested to observe that he seems
just as "vain" of Hugo's successes, or of Scribe's, as of his own,
and just as much delighted by them.

He was now struck, as he walked on the boulevard one day, by the