ont to
subscribe herself "the very humble servant of the adorable
Amalthee."[323] Men and women considered it a great honour to have their
portraits in a romance; they felt sure then of going down to the
remotest posterity, a fond belief to which posterity has already given
the lie. Much intrigue went on to obtain such a valuable favour. While
we are scarcely able now to plod on for a few chapters along the winding
road which led Cyrus to his victories, these volumes were awaited with
intense interest and discussed with passion as soon as published.
Neither the expectation of the next number of the "Revue des deux
Mondes," when it contains some important new study of actual life, nor
the discussion about the last play of Dumas, can give us now an adequate
idea of the amount of interest concentrated in Paris at that time upon
those heroical, grandiloquent, periwigged figures.

And sometimes it was a very long time before the end of the adventures,
and the answers of the lovers were known. These books were not written
without care and thought and some attention to rules and style. In the
preface to his "Ibrahim" Scudery gives us a sort of "Ars poetica" for
heroic romance writers; he states what precepts it is necessary to
follow, and those which may sometimes be dispensed with; he informs us
that attention is to be paid to the truth of history, and that manners
must be observed. For example, in "Ibrahim" he has thought fit to use
some Turkish words, such as "Alla, Stambol"; these he calls "historical
marks," and they correspond to what goes now under the name of local
colour; according to his way of thinking they give a realistic
appearance to his story. His heroes in this particular romance are not
kings, he confesses; his excuse is that they are worthy to be such, and
that besides they belong to very good families. He has been careful to
use an easy, flowing style, and to avoid bombast "except in speeches."
He has something to say about the unities, which have their part to play
even in romances. Nothing must be left to chance in those works; and as
for himself, he would have refused, he declares, the praise bestowed
upon the Greek painter who, by throwing his brush against his work,
obtained thus the finest effect in his picture. In Scudery's picture
everything is drawn with a will and a purpose, everything is the result
of thought and calculation, and, if we are to believe him, much art was
thus spent by the gallant G