But Dumas wrote one modern, semi-historical novel which has not been imitated so successfully, and if anything it is more famous than The Three Musketeers. It is The Count of Monte Cristo. (It really appeared before The Three Musketeers.) The hero is a mate of a ship, of which he hopes soon to become captain, and lover of a beautiful girl, whom he hopes soon to marry. The story opens in 1815. The hero is accused by his two rivals (one of whom wants the ship and the other the girl), of being engaged in carrying dangerous information to Napoleon, who is in exile on the island of Elba. He is thrown into prison, where he remains for twenty years. Among the prisoners is a fellow thought to be mad, who tells of a wonderful treasure hidden on the island of Monte Cristo, off the coast of Italy. Our hero escapes from prison, finds the treasure, and appears in the fashionable world as the rich and mysterious Count of Monte Cristo. His motive in life now is revenge upon those who had put him in prison. One is a rich banker. Another is a distinguished general. A third is an influential magistrate. The story is exciting and romantic in the extreme, and ends in tragic and dramatic pathos. Some think the gloomy ending spoils it; but if it has any fault it is that of being, like most of Dumas’s novels, a little too long. The stories already mentioned will give most persons reading enough of this kind; but if more is wanted, we might recommend The Queen’s Necklace and the three connected novels, Queen Margot (or Marguerite of Valois), The Lady of Monsoreau, and The Forty-five. Less interesting is The Memoirs of a Physician, for which Dumas made a study of hypnotism. Also Thackeray recommends a simple little story called The Black Tulip--which is so innocent any schoolgirl might read it without offense. The truth is, Dumas is seldom immoral, never indecent. To these add his two accounts of himself, his Memoirs and the story of the animals he loved, My Pets. Dumas’s father was the son of a marquis, who had gone to Hayti and married a negress. The novelist was therefore a quadroon. The young fellow came to Paris with nothing, made his fortune as a playwright (his income in one year was $200,000, it is said), became even more successful as a novelist, built a theatre and a chateau which he called Monte Cristo, contracted for forty novels in one year, ruined himself by his recklessness and gaieties, was reduced to poverty, and died with less than he began life with. Throughout his novels we find the same reckless gaiety, and this is the element which makes them so popular. At one extreme is Scott, the honest, the honourable, the faithful; at the other is Dumas, an adventurer, reckless, irresponsible, but good at heart and as much a genius as Scott.