his "Letters to Dead Authors" notes this judicious quality in our author. "In these romances," he says, apostrophising Dumas, "how easy it would have been for you to burn incense to that great goddess, Lubricity, whom our critic says your people worship. You had Brantôme, you had Tallemant, you had Retif, and a dozen others, to furnish materials for scenes of voluptuousness and of blood that would have outdone even present naturalistes. From these alcoves of 'Les Dames Galantes,' from the torture chambers (M. Zola would not have spared us one starting sinew of brave La Mole on the rack) you turned, as Scott would have turned, without a thought of their profitable literary uses. You had other metal to work on: you gave us that superstitious and tragical true love of La Mole's, that devotion—how tender and how pure!—of Bussy for the Dame de Montsoreau. You gave us the valour of D'Artagnan, the strength of Porthos, the melancholy nobility of Athos: Honour, Chivalry, and Friendship."
"La Guerre des Femmes," a story of the Fronde, and therefore contemporary with "Vingt Ans Après," is easily recognised as another of the romances in which Maquet had his share. Probably it owes its position in the second class to its sad, its fatalistic atmosphere. But "La Guerre des Femmes" has many merits: it develops rapidly,
