DU MAURIER, GEORGE LOUIS PALMELLA BUSSON (1834-1896), British artist and writer, was born in Paris. His father, a naturalized British subject, was the son of _émigrés_ who had left France during the Reign of Terror and settled in London. In _Peter Ibbetson_, the first of the three books which won George Du Maurier late in life a reputation as novelist almost as great as he had enjoyed as artist and humorist for more than a generation, the author tells in the form of fiction the story of his singularly happy childhood. He was brought to London, indeed, when three or four years old, and spent in Devonshire Terrace and elsewhere two colourless years; but vague memories of this period were suddenly exchanged one beautiful day in June--"the first day of his conscious existence"--for the charming realities of a French garden and "an old yellow house with green shutters and mansard roofs of slate." Here, at Passy, with his "gay and jovial father" and his young English mother, the boy spent "seven years of sweet priceless home-life--seven times four changing seasons of simple genial prae-Imperial Frenchness." The second chapter of Du Maurier's life had for scene a Paris school, very much in the style of that "Institution F. Brossard" which he describes, at once so vividly and so sympathetically, in _The Martian_; and like "Barty Josselin's" schoolfellow and biographer, he left it (in 1851) to study chemistry at University College, London, actually setting up as an analytical chemist afterwards in Bucklersbury. But this was clearly not to be his _métier_, and the year 1856 found him once more in Paris, in the Quartier Latin this time, in the core of that art-world of which in _Trilby_, forty years later, he was to produce with pen and pencil so idealistic and fascinating a picture. Then, like "Barty Josselin" himself, he spent some years in Belgium and the Netherlands, experiencing at Antwerp in 1857, when he was working in the studio of van Lerius, the one great misfortune of his life--the gradual loss of sight in his left eye, accompanied by alarming symptoms in his right. It was a period of tragic anxiety, for it seemed possible that the right eye might also become affected; but this did not happen, and the dismal cloud was soon to show its silver lining, for, about Christmastime 1858, there came to the forlorn invalid a copy of _Punch's Almanac_, and with it the dawn of a new era in his career.