| Lord Byron for model has served me, say you, You know not then Byron set Pulci in view? Read up the Italians, you’ll see if he stole. Nothing is any one’s, every one’s all. Dunce deep as a schoolmaster surely were he Who should dream left for him one word there could be That no man before him had hit upon yet; They somebody copy who cabbage-plants set. |
This self-vindicating epigram of Musset’s may be pronounced clever rather than satisfactory.
Musset—the juxtaposition and contrast of the two men irresistibly provokes the reflection—was as much less than Balzac by inferiority of will as he was greater by superiority of genius.
Already, such is the pace of progress in these last days of the nineteenth century, the “men of 1830” are beginning to seem a generation long gone by. The future will see whether their successors of the present time enjoy a more protracted supremacy.
XXIV.
JOUBERT: 1754-1824; Madame Swetchine: 1782-1859; Amiel: 1821-1881.
We come now to that nineteenth-century group, foreshadowed on an earlier page, of French pensée-writers.
The longer lapse of time in Joubert’s case, constantly confirming his claim to be a true classic, justifies us in placing, as we do, his name not only first but principal in the title to the present chapter.