incredulous about invisible and inaudible genius." So little gall had Dumas in his disposition that he found ability everywhere—he praised heartily, gladly. His good-nature often led him to fancy that there was talent in people who possessed none.
"I can't make out what Mallefille lacks, in order to be a man of talent," he said one day.
"Perhaps he lacks the talent," some one suggested.
"By Jove! That's it! I never thought of that!" answered Dumas ingenuously.
With all his failings—and we will admit them in due time—Dumas had one splendid quality which might well outweigh a host of sins heavier than his. He was charity itself. His was indeed "a voice of comfort and an open hand of help." "He was like a cornucopia, shedding bounty perpetually from his outstretched hands," says Du Camp. "Half, if not more, of the money he earned he gave away." Another great writer has told us how Dumas would take his work and sit by the dying, would tend them and help them in their need. His heart was open to the suffering, his purse to the needy, his house to the homeless. "I was sick and ye visited me." We can fancy the Preacher of Galilee would have found something in Alexandre Dumas which the world never saw.
One day, when Dumas and du Chaffault were
