As that new star which has so recently risen out of the East--Mr. Kipling--has said, "They took things where they found them." This is perhaps truthful with regard to most literary folk, who are continually seeking a new line of thought. Scott did it, rather generously one might think; even Stevenson admitted that he was greatly indebted to Washington Irving and Poe for certain of the details of "Treasure Island"--though there is absolutely no question but that it was a sort of unconscious absorption, to put it rather unscientifically. The scientist himself calls it the workings of the subconscious self.
As before said, the Maquet _affaire_ was a most complicated one, and it shall have no lengthy consideration here. Suffice to say that, when a case was made by Maquet in court, in 1856-58, Maquet lost. "It is not justice that has won," said Maquet, "but Dumas."
Edmond About has said that Maquet lived to speak kindly of Dumas, "as did his legion of other _collaborateurs_; and the proudest of them congratulate themselves on having been trained in so good a school." This being so, it is hard to see anything very outrageous or preposterous in the procedure.
Blaze de Bury has described Dumas' method thus:
"The plot was worked over by Dumas and his colleague, when it was finally drafted by the other and afterward _rewritten_ by Dumas."
M. About, too, corroborates Blaze de Bury's statement, so it thus appears legitimately explained. Dumas at least supplied the ideas and the _esprit_.
In Dumas' later years there is perhaps more justification for the thought that as his indolence increased--though he was never actually inert, at least not until sickness drew him down--the authorship of the novels became more complex. Blaze de Bury put them down to the "Dumas-Legion," and perhaps with some truth. They certainly have not the vim and fire and temperament of individuality of those put forth from 1840 to 1850.
Dumas wrote fire and impetuosity into the veins of his heroes, perhaps some of his very own vivacious spirit. It has been said that his moral code was that of the camp or the theatre; but that is an ambiguity, and it were better not dissected.
Certainly he was no prude or Puritan, not more so, at any rate, than were Burns, Byron, or Poe, but the virtues of courage, devotion, faithfulness, loyalty, and friendship were his, to a degree hardly excelled by any of whom the written record of _cameraderie_ exists.