Halles. But he succeeds only to a certain point, and that point lies on the nearer side of what is really meant by success. Is not Zola himself, at his moments, aware of this? A letter written in 1881, and printed in Mr. Sherard's life of Zola, from which I have just quoted, seems to me very significant.
"I continue to work in a good state of mental equilibrium. My novel (Pot-Bouille) is certainly only a task requiring precision and clearness. No bravoura, not the least lyrical treat. It does not give me any warm satisfaction, but it amuses me like a piece of mechanism with a thousand wheels, of which it is my duty to regulate the movements with the most minute care. I ask myself the question: Is it good policy, when one feels that one has passion in one, to check it, or even to bridle it? If one of my books is destined to become immortal, it will, I am sure, be the most passionate one."
Est-elle en marbre ou non, la Vénus de Milo? said the Parnassians, priding themselves on their muse with her peplum bien sculpté. Zola will describe to you the exact shape and the exact smell of the rags of his
