La Comédie Romanesque. Since that time, those pages have been frequently reprinted, but not a single one of these reproductions gives any indication of their origin. It must be admitted that Théophile Gautier himself gave rise to this error in La Presse of December 17, 1838, in again quoting these lines, inserted in an unpublished commentary, as an isolated article which had come under his notice by chance. He had forgotten this extract, and believed in good faith to have found in La Monde Dramatique only a newspaper improvisation. This first mistake was the starting-point of all that succeeded, the most striking of which is the insertion in 1858 of this fragment from Mademoiselle de Maupin in the first volume of Théophile Gautier's work: Histoire de l'Art Dramatique in France. It is useless to add that no one noticed this fact.

Time, however, rolled on, and the renown of the poet continued to increase; his appearance in La Presse in 1836, and his critical work, had made a circle of new readers. Then, Fortunio, La Comédie de la Mort, Une Larme du Diable, Tra Los Montès, Les Grotesques, etc., etc., had considerably increased his literary impedimenta. So, when Monsieur Charpentier, the father of the present publisher of Théophile Gautier's complete works, had founded the collection to which he gave his name, he soon thought of reprinting our author's principal works. Monsieur Charpentier, who succeeded in grouping in his catalogue the most select of the remarkable works of his age, was of refined literary taste and held among the publishers of his day a place similar to that then held by Monsieur Buloz in his capacity of director of La Revue des Deux Mondes: it was difficult to obtain an interview with either, and to appear in print in their collections was regarded as a kind of consecration.

It was in 1845 when four of Théophile Gautier's volumes appeared in the Charpentier catalogue; they were Poésies Complètes, Nouvelles, Voyage en Espagne, and Mademoiselle de Maupin. For this reprint, the first since the original edition[2], the author modified, but very slightly, some phrases of his work, the text of which, from that time, has never been changed.

Here ends, in reality, the history of this work. Since 1845, the number of editions has continued to increase; we will only quote two that appeared in 1878: one in two volumes, 24mo, illustrated with four designs by Eugèn Giraud, and another in a large 12mo volume, upon Holland paper, embellished with a portrait of the heroine by Théophile Gautier himself, the portrait dated 1834. Finally, in 1880, there was added to a reprint of this edition, a reproduction of the medallion of the author by David d'Anger; this reproduction is erroneously dated 1834, instead of 1835, which is the actual year of its execution.

Is it possible, as has often been asserted, that this work, whose incomparable style should have warranted the opening of the doors of the Académie Française to the author, was in part the cause of their remaining stubbornly closed against him?—We do not know; but from another tradition preserved in the poet's family, it would appear that the father himself, when he knew of the completion of the work (only the first volume, as we have seen, was written under his eyes), could not have been without apprehension as to the part which the book would play in the life of his son, and, notwithstanding his admiration for the style of the work, he would often have expressed the fear that the second volume would at times influence the future of the author.

In any case, the renown of Théophile Gautier, like that of his illustrious friend, Honoré de Balzac, who, likewise, was never a member of the Académie, has only increased since his death, and the names of these two rare talents are in truth missed among those of the members of that illustrious body. For Théophile Gautier at least, the Académie itself expressed one day, by the mouth of one of its members, its regret at not having received him. On October 25, 1872, at its public session and at the very hour of the obsequies of the great writer, Monsieur Camille Doucet pronounced the following words which do honor to their author, and we are happy to reproduce them here: "Permit me to digress a moment. When I speak of the fraternity of Letters, I should fail, messieurs, if I appeared longer to forget that at this very hour, upon the threshold of a tomb, which I have left only with regret to come here to fulfil another duty, Letters mourning, weep for a true poet dear to all, a brilliant writer whose wit was thoroughly French and whose heart was still more French. Very many votes have proved to him that his place was indicated among us, and so we deplore the more the sudden stroke to which Théophile Gautier succumbs."

We will add nothing to these touching lines and will close this notice by saying a few words as to the present edition of Mademoiselle de Maupin. It is the first reprint, absolutely conforming to the original text. The work appears in two volumes, divided like those of 1835, and the publishers have exerted every effort to satisfy bibliophiles desirous of possessing as perfect an edition as possible, both as regards the exactness of the text and the technical execution of the work.

Finally, let us say that the designs of E. Toudouze, made especially for this work, will render this edition still more complete. It will rank, we hope, among the most treasured editions of the book.

CHARLES DE LOVENJOUL.

PREFACE

One of the most burlesque incidents of the glorious epoch in which we have the good fortune to live side by side with Deutz and General Bugeaud, is, beyond question, the rehabilitation of virtue undertaken by all the newspapers, of whatever color they may be, red, green, or tri-colored.

Virtue is most assuredly a very respectable thing, and we have no wish to fail in our devotion to the excellent, worthy creature—God forbid!—We consider that her eyes shine with sufficient brilliancy through her spectacles, that her stockings are reasonably well put on, that she takes snuff from her gold snuff-box with all imaginable grace, that her little dog courtesies like a dancing-master.—We agree to all that.—We are even willing to admit that her figure is not bad for her age, and that she carries her years as well as any one could. She is a very agreeable grandmother, but she is a grandmother. It seems to me to be natural to prefer to her, especially when one is twenty years old, some little immorality, very pert, very coquettish, very wanton, with the hair a little out of curl, the skirt rather short than long, the foot and eye alluring, the cheek slightly flushed, a smile on the lips and the heart in the hand.—The most horribly virtuous journalists can hardly be of a different opinion; and, if they say the contrary, it is very probable that they do not think it. To think one thing and write another is something that happens every day, especially among virtuous folk.

I remember