e by-blow of nobility,
gets him a commission, endows him handsomely, and all but gives his
consent to a marriage.

Then the final revolution comes. With again extraordinary but, as it is
told, again not inconceivable audacity, Julien refers for character to
his first mistress in both senses, Madame de Renal, and she "gives him
away." The marquis breaks off the treaties, and Julien, leaving his
quarters, journeys down to Verrieres and shoots Madame de Renal (with
the pocket-pistols) in church. She does not die, and is not even very
seriously wounded; but he is tried, is (according, it would seem, to a
state of French law, which contrasts most remarkably with one's recent
knowledge of it) condemned, and after a time is executed for a murder
which has not been committed. Mathilde (who is to bear him a child and
always considers herself his wife) and Madame de Renal both visit him in
prison, the former making immense efforts to save him. But Julien,
consistently with his character all through, is now rather bored by
Mathilde and exceedingly fond of Madame de Renal, who dies shortly
after him. What becomes of Mathilde we are not told, except that she
devotes herself to her paulo-post-future infant. The mere summary may
seem rather preposterous; the book is in a way so. But it is also, in no
ordinary sense, once more real and true. It has sometimes been regarded
as a childish, but I believe it to be a true, criterion of novels that
the reader should feel as if he would like to have had personal dealings
with the personages. I should very much like to have shot[140] Julien
Sorel, though it would have been rather an honour for him. And I should
very much like to have made Mathilde fall in love with me. As for Madame
de Renal, she was only good for suckling fools and telling tales out of
school. But I do not find fault with Beyle for drawing her, and she,
too, is very human.

In fact the book, pleasant or unpleasant, if we reflect on what the
French novel was at the time, deserves a very high place. Compare it
with others, and nowhere, except in Balzac, will you find anything like
it for firm analysis of character, while I confess that it seems to me
to be more strictly human of this world, and at the same time more
original,[141] than a good deal of the _Comedie_.

[Sidenote: The resuscitated work--_Lamiel_.]

The question, "Would a novelist in altered circumstances have given us
more or better novels?" is sometimes treated