revelation of this other world, so like ours and yet not the
same; in the exploration of its continents; in the frequentation of its
inhabitants; that the pleasure which he has to give consists. How he
came himself to discover it is as undiscoverable as how his in some sort
analogue Dickens, after pottering not unpleasantly with Bozeries,
"thought of Mr. Pickwick," and so of the rest of _his_ human (and
extra-human) comedy. But the facts, in both cases fortunately, remain.
And it may be possible to indicate at least some qualities and
characteristics of the fashion in which he dealt with this world when he
_had_ discovered it. In _Les Chouans_ he had found out not so much it,
as the way to it; in the books between that and _La Peau de Chagrin_ he
was over the border, and with _La Peau_ itself he had "crossed
Jordan,"--it was all conquest and extension--as far as permitted--of
territory afterwards.

[Sidenote: The "occult" element.]

There can, I should suppose, be very little doubt that the fancy for the
occult, which played a great part, as far as bulk goes, in the
_Juvenilia_, but produced nothing of value there, began to bear fruit at
this time. The Supernatural (as was remarked of woman to the indignation
of Mr. Snodgrass) is a "rum creetur." It is very difficult to deal with;
to the last degree unsatisfactory when of bad quality and badly handled;
but possessing almost infinite capabilities of exhibiting excellence,
and conveying enjoyment. Of course, during the generation before
Balzac's birth and also that between his birth and 1830, the Terror
Novel--from the _Castle of Otranto_ to Maturin--had circled through
Europe, and "Illuminism" of various kinds had taken particular hold of
France just before the Revolution. But Balzac's "Occult," like Balzac's
everything, was not the same as anybody else's. Whether you take it in
_La Peau de Chagrin_ itself, or in _Seraphita_, or anywhere, it
consists, again, rather in atmosphere than in "figures." A weaker genius
would have attached to the skin of that terrible wild ass--gloomier, but
more formidable than even the beast in Job[168]--some attendant evil
spirit, genie, or "person" of some sort. A bit of shagreen externally,
shrinking--with age--perhaps? with weather?--what not?--a life shrinking
in mysterious sympathy--that is what was wanted and what you have,
without ekings, or explanations, or other trumpery.

[Sidenote: Its action and reaction.]

Nor is it only in