It is only after the publication of the succeeding volumes that one will be able to judge how far M. Zola's doctrines and theories in their ensemble may appeal to the requirements of the world.

Thus, when I first perused the original proofs of M. Zola's work, I came to the conclusion that any version of it in the English language would be well-nigh impossible.

Various considerations influenced me, and among them was the thought that if "Fruitfulness" were not presented to the public in an English dress, M. Zola's new series would remain incomplete, decapitated so far as British and American readers were concerned.

It is not for me to say whether I have succeeded in the task; but I think that nothing in any degree offensive to delicate susceptibilities will be found in this present version of M. Zola's book.

Therefore one of the two: either the Rougon are sick, and in that case the cycle of novels about them is not a picture of French society during the Empireit is only a psychological studyor the whole physiological foundations, all this heredity on which the cycle is based, in a word Zola's whole doctrine, is nonsense.

"La Débâcle" is a remarkable book, notwithstanding all its faults, but the soldiers, who will read it, will be defeated by those who in the night sing: "Glory, Glory, Halleluia!" I consider Zola's talent as a national misfortune, and I am glad that his times are passing away, that even the most zealous pupils abandon the master who stands alone more and more.

Sometimes I hunt par force with my husband, I read Zola's novels, I make calls and receive visits, and every morning I ponder as to the best way to kill time.

On January 16, 1898, three days after M. Zola's famous 'J'accuse' letter appeared in 'L'Aurore,' and two days before the French Government instructed the Public Prosecutor to proceed against its author, I wrote to the 'Westminster Gazette' a long letter dealing with M. Zola's position.

That same morning our own 'Daily Chronicle' announced M. Zola's presence at a London hotel, and on the following day the 'Morning Leader' was in a position to state that the hotel in question was the Grosvenor.

At this point I would simply say that M. Zola's interests were, in my estimation, of far more consequence than the claims of public curiosity, however well meant and even flattering its nature.

Of his bona fides there can be no doubt, but some of M. Zola's friends are rather partial to a little harmless joking, and it is evident that a trap was laid for the shrewd correspondent of the 'Times,' and that he, in an unguarded moment, fell into it.

I was still chuckling over M. Zola's anecdote when M. Desmoulin returned from his journey to Onslow Square.

Mr. Genoni, the restaurateur, had been one of the first to identify him; but, as he explained to me, he was no spy or betrayer, and whatever he might think of the Dreyfus businesshe was a reader of that anti-Revisionist print the 'Petit Journal'M. Zola's secret was, he assured me, quite safe in his hands.

I am bound to add that the tragic story of the Princess Charlotte was not that which most appealed to M. Zola's feelings at Oatlands Park.

If these men were French detectives, or French newspaper men of the anti-Dreyfusite party, who by shadowing me hoped to discover M. Zola's retreat, it would be most unwise for me to go to Wareham's.

Then had come an incident that Everson already know of: a stranger with divers aliases beseeching me for private interviews in M. Zola's interest, a request which I ultimately granted, and which led to a rather curious experience.

If M. Zola's communications with Paris, through Wareham and myself, should be threatened, Mr. Pamplin was to take upon himself the duty of re-establishing them.

Most of M. Zola's tenancy was spent in the topmost rooms.

There were plenty of leaderettes on the cunning shown by the men, but the alacrity of the women to purchase the bogus medicines was, as a rule, lightly passed over; and great as is M. Zola's admiration for the English Press in many respects, he could but regard its attitude towards the Chrimes case as lamentably inadequate and lacking in moral courage.

Through the carelessness of one of M. Zola's friends, Wareham's name and address had lately been given to an English journalist usually resident in Paris, and this journalist had then come to London to try to discover the master's whereabouts.

On the following day, Saturday, I therefore betook myself to Norwood with a parcel of M. Zola's books, which I had received from Messrs. Macmillan & Co. on behalf of the Countess of Bective, who (prompted by the same spirit as Miss Loie Fuller) wished to sell these volumes at the 'Bookland' stall on the occasion of the Charing Cross Hospital Bazaar.

Sarcey comments on the impossibility of a scene in Zola's Pot Bouille in which the so-called "lovers," Octave Mouret and Blanche, throw open the window of the garret in which they are quarrelling, and hear the servants in the courtyard outside discussing their intrigue.

But in Zola even the ideals are undesirable; Zola's mercy is colder than justicenay, Zola's mercy is more bitter in the mouth than injustice.

There followed a long series of powerful and realistic studies of social life, each of unquestioned ability, but failing to win the popularity which was later accorded to Zola's works.

M. Zola's great lack lies in his considering in man his physical nature only.