Corot's pictures _were_ unfortunately hung in the darkest corners--for fifteen years. As he himself has said, it was as if he were in the catacombs. In 1855 Corot figured as one of the thirty-four judges appointed by Napoleon III. to make the awards for paintings exhibited in the world's first Universal Exhibition. It is not remarked that Corot had any acquaintance or friendships with Dumas or with Victor Hugo, of whom he remarked, "This Victor Hugo seems to be pretty famous in literature." He knew little of his contemporaries, and the hurly-burly knew less of him. He was devoted, however, to the genius of his superiors--as he doubtless thought them. Of Delacroix he said one day, "He is an eagle, and I am only a lark singing little songs in gray clouds." A literary event of prime importance during the latter years of Dumas' life in Paris, when his own purse was growing thin, was the publication of the "Histoire de Jules César," written by Napoleon III. Nobody ever seems to have taken the second emperor seriously in any of his finer expressions of sentiment, and, as may be supposed, the publication of this immortal literary effort was the occasion of much sarcasm, banter, violent philippic, and sardonic criticism. Possibly the world was not waiting for this work, but royalty, no less than other great men, have their hobbies and their fads; Nero fiddled, and the first Napoleon read novels and threw them forthwith out of the carriage window, so it was quite permissible that Napoleon III. should have perpetuated this life history of an emperor whom he may justly and truly have admired--perhaps envied, in a sort of impossible way. Already Louis Napoleon's collection of writings was rather voluminous, so this came as no great surprise, and his literary reputation was really greater than that which had come to him since fate made him the master of one of the foremost nations of Europe. From his critics we learn that "he lacked the grace of a popular author; that he was quite incapable of interesting the reader by a charm of manner; and that his _style_ was meagre, harsh, and grating, but epigrammatic." No Frenchman could possibly be otherwise. Dumas relates, again, the story of Sir Walter Scott's visit to Paris, seeking documents which should bear upon the reign of Napoleon. Dining with friends one evening, he was invited the next day to dine with Barras. But Scott shook his head. "I cannot dine with that man," he replied. "I shall write evil of him, and people in Scotland would say that I have flung the dishes from his own table at his head." It is not recorded that Dumas' knowledge of swordsmanship was based on practical experience, but certainly no more scientific sword-play of _passe_ and _touche_ has been put into words than that wonderful attack and counter-attack in the opening pages of "Les Trois Mousquetaires."