s eclecticism gave him, need not detain us.

And now, in conclusion, how can we best characterize briefly this
fascinating, versatile genius, the most delightful humorist of his time,
one of the most artistic story-tellers, one of the greatest novelists?
It is impossible to classify him, for he was more than a humorist, he
nearly outgrew romance, he never accepted unreservedly the canons of
naturalism. He obviously does not belong to the small class of the
supreme writers of fiction, for he has no consistent or at least
profound philosophy of life. He is a true poet, yet for the main he has
expressed himself not in verse, but in prose, and in a form of prose
that is being so extensively cultivated that its permanence is daily
brought more and more into question. What is Daudet, and what will he
be to posterity? Some admirers have already answered the first question,
perhaps as satisfactorily as it can be answered, by saying, "Daudet is
simply Daudet." As for the second question, a whole school of critics is
inclined to answer it and all similar queries with the curt statement,
"That concerns posterity, not us." If, however, less evasive answers are
insisted upon, let the following utterance, which might conceivably be
more indefinite and oracular, suffice: Alphonse Daudet is one of
those rare writers who combine greatness with a charm so intimate and
appealing that some of us would not, if we could, have their greatness
increased.

W. P. TRENT.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Alphonse Daudet was born at Nimes on the 13th of May, 1840. He was the
younger son of a rich and enthusiastically Royalist silk-manufacturer
of that town, the novelist, Ernest Daudet (born 1837), being his elder
brother. In their childhood, the father, Vincent Daudet, suffered
reverses, and had to settle with his family, in reduced circumstances,
at Lyons. Alphonse, in 1856, obtained a post as usher in a school at
Alais, in the Gard, where he was extremely unhappy. All these painful
early experiences are told very pathetically in "Le Petit Chose." On
the 1st of November, 1857, Alphonse fled from the horrors of his life at
Alais, and joined his brother Ernest, who had just secured a post in the
service of the Duc de Morny in Paris. Alphonse determined to live by
his pen, and presently obtained introductions to the "Figaro." His early
volumes of verse, "Les Amoureuses" of 1858 and "La Double Conversion"
of 1861, attracted some favourable notice. In thi