all the articles, small or great, published about Balzac since his entry as a writer.  And just see what a fascination this devil of a man—­as Theophile Gautier once called him—­exercises over his followers; I am fully convinced that these little details of Balzacian mania will cause the reader to smile.  As for me, I have found them, and still find them, as natural as Balzac’s own remark to Jules Sandeau, who was telling him about a sick sister:  “Let us go back to reality.  Who is going to marry Eugenie Grandet?”

Fascination!  That is the only word that quite characterizes the sort of influence wielded by Balzac over those who really enjoy him; and it is not to-day that the phenomenon began.  Vallies pointed it out long ago in an eloquent page of the Refractaires concerning “book victims.”  Saint Beuve, who can scarcely be suspected of fondness towards the editor-in-chief of the Revue Parisienne, tells a story stranger and more significant than every other.  At one time an entire social set in Venice, and the most aristocratic, decided to give out among its members different characters drawn from the Comedie Humaine; and some of these roles, the critic adds, mysteriously, were artistically carried out to the very end;—­a dangerous experiment, for we are well aware that the heroes and heroines of Balzac often skirt the most treacherous abysses of the social Hell.

All this happened about 1840.  The present year is 1887, and there seems no prospect of the sorcery weakening.  The work to which these notes serve as an introduction may be taken as proof.  Indeed, somebody has said that the men of Balzac have appeared as much in literature as in life, especially since the death of the novelist.  Balzac seems to have observed the society of his day less than he contributed to form a new one.  Such and such personages are truer to life in 1860 than in 1835.  When one considers a phenomenon of such range and intensity, it does not suffice to employ words like infatuation, fashion, mania.  The attraction of an author becomes a psychological fact of prime importance and subject to analysis.  I think I can see two reasons for this particular strength of Balzac’s genius.  One dwells in the special character of his vision, the other in the philosophical trend which he succeeded in giving to all his writing.

As to the scope of his vision, this Repertory alone will suffice to show.  Turn over the leaves at random and estimate the number of fictitious deeds going to make up these two thousand biographies, each individual, each distinct, and most of them complete—­that is to say, taking the character at his birth and leaving him only at his death.  Balzac not only knows the date of birth or of death, he knows as well the local coloring of the time and the country and profession to which the man belongs.  He is thoroughly conversant with questions of taxation and income and the agricultural conditions.  He is not ignorant of the fact that