Fenayron, whose manners were so gentle, and who betrayed her lover so readily; she held his feet while he was being smothered.

Delilah!

THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE.

THE MAN OF THE WORLD.

It is in the sex. The hen partridge is used to snare the cock. They call her a decoy-bird.

THE CRITIC.

M. Zola's Gabrielle is called Sévérine. Hers is a well-drawn character, and this dainty criminal, so quiet and gentle, with periwinkle blue eyes, exhaling sympathy, may be reckoned one of the master's most peculiar creations.

THE PHILOSOPHER.

In La Bête Humaine there is also an incidental character cleverly delineated; that of M. CamyLamotte, general secretary of the Ministry of Justice in 1870; a political judge, who believes that to strive to be just is infinitely weary, to labour in vain; whose only virtue is an elegant correctness, and who values nothing beyond grace and artifice.

THE MAGIStrate.

M. Zola does not know the magistracy. If he had sought information . . .

THE PHILOSOpher,

Well?

THE MAGISTRATE.

I should have naturally refused it. But I know better than he the vices of our judicial organization. I affirm that an examining magistrate like his Denizet does not exist.

THE IDEALIST.

All the same, this example of the stupidity of intelligent people, this judge who sees logic everywhere, who will admit no mistakes of reasoning in his prisoners, and who inspires the stupefied accused with this overwhelming thought-"What is the good of telling the truth, since a lie is logical?"— is wonderful, and true to life.

THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE.

This novel of Zola's appears to me to be depressing.

THE CRITIC.

It is true there is a lot of crime in it. Out of ten principal characters, six die a violent death, and two go to penal servitude. That is not the actual proportion.

THE MAGISTRATE.

No, that is not the proportion.

THE CRITIC.

One day M. Alexandre Dumas was finding fault with a friend for putting only rogues on the stage. And he added with a sort of grim gaiety-" You are wrong. There is a certain proportion of honest

people to be found in any section of Society. For instance, there are two of us here, and there is at least one honest man." I say in my turn, there are ten of us in this smoking-room. There ought to be five or six honest men amongst us. That is about half. The reason that honest people win in life is that they are the more numerous. They do not, however, win by much-or always. They form a very small majority. M. Zola has mistaken the actual proportion. It is not that likeable individuals are not to be met with in his books; there are two-a quarryman, called Cabuche, an old offender, who has killed a man. But you misunderstand M. Zola's realism if you think this quarryman to be an ordinary quarryman; he is a rustic demi-god, a Hercules of the woods and caves, a giant with a sometimes heavy hand, but whose heart is that of a child, and his soul full of ideal love. The beautiful Flora also is sympathetic. She derailed a train and caused the horrible death of nine persons, but it was in a splendid transport of jealousy. Flora is in charge of one of the Company's gates; she is also a mountain nymph, an amazon, etc., an august symbol of virgin nature, and the subterranean forces of the Earth.

THE ROMANTIC IDEALIST.

I told you that M. Zola was a great idealist.

THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE.

Gentlemen, if you have done smoking. ladies are complaining of your absence.

(They rise.)

The

THE ACADEMICIAN (standing up, aside to the ACADEMICIAN_(standing

Professor).

I admit that I haven't read a page of Zola. There are several of us at the Academy in the same position. We are overwhelmed with work: what with commissions, and the Dictionary.. have no time to read.

THE PROFESSOR.

. We

Then how do you form an idea of the candidate's merits ?

THE ACADEMICIAN.

Oh, Lord! Everything gets known in time; we nearly always succeed in getting a rough decision. For instance, some one told me that M. Zola had bad manners. Well, it is not true. He came to see me; and he behaved very well.

As M. Ernest Renan has revealed to human beings, in the theatre of Bacchus, the spirit Camillus daily brings us the Earth's novelties. This morning he brought us a novel by Victor Cherbuliez called Une Gageure.

SAINT-EVREMOND.

I shall not fail to read it to the Duchesse de Mazarin. M. Cherbuliez is a man of infinite art, who has greatly exercised the faculty of understanding. Philosophy, the liberal arts, natural science, mechanical art, the industries, the policing of cities and the government of peoples, there is nothing outside his domain.