, and of literary diplomacy. He excels in the art
of distilling a drop of poison in a phial of perfume so as to render the
poison delicious and the perfume venomous. His prose is as attractive
and magnetizing as a woman slightly compromised in public opinion, and
who does not tell all her secrets, but increases her attractions both by
what she shows and by what she conceals. Monsieur Sainte-Beuve has had
no desire but to be a pilgrim of ideas, lacking the first requisite in a
pilgrim, which is faith. He has circumnavigated, merely in the character
of amateur, every doctrine of the century; but though he has never
adopted one of them for his creed, when he abandoned them he seemed to
have betrayed them. Accused unjustly of treachery and apostasy, he has
done his best to confirm his reputation, and has ended by becoming the
enemy of those from whom at first he had only deserted. His error has
been in adulterating that which he might have put, with singular grace,
talents, and natural superiority, pure into currency,--in acting as if
literature were a war of treachery, where one was constantly obliged to
keep a sword in the hand and a poniard in the pocket. They say he is at
great pains to provide himself with an immense arsenal of defensive and
offensive weapons, that he may be able to crush those he loves to-day
and may detest to-morrow, and those he hates to-day and wishes to wreak
vengeance on hereafter. Monsieur Sainte-Beuve might have been the most
indisputable of authorities: he is only the most delightful of literary
curiosities."

Such was the language of Monsieur Jules Sandeau. He spoke in the same
strain of many another eminent literary man. Around these illustrious
planets gravitated satellites. When new pieces were brought out, he told
me one could see between the acts the lieutenants go up to the
captain-critics and receive instructions from them; the consequence was,
the theatrical criticisms were either collective apotheoses or
collective executions. One day it was Mademoiselle Rachel they put on
the black list for three months, and they raised up against her Madame
Ristori, declaring that she was as superior to Rachel as Alfieri was to
Racine. Then 'twas the Gymnase Theatre they put in Coventry, for having
spoken disrespectfully of newspaper-writers. Another day Monsieur Scribe
was their victim, to punish him for fatiguing with his dramatic
longevity the young men, the new-comers, who are neither young men,