has not the form and does not assume the movement of a thesis. It does
not take up one special trait of our social order, one of our worldly
prejudices, in order to show its strong and weak sides. 'Le Fils
Naturel' is the work of a moralist as well as of a playwright; or
rather, it is the work of a playwright who was a born moralist.

'Un Pere Prodigue' originally excited great curiosity. It escaped no
one that in his Count Fernand de la Rivonniere, Dumas had shown us
some traits of his illustrious father, who _had_ been a prodigal
father; and that he had depicted himself in Viscount Andre. Every one
made comparisons; some, of course, accused the author of filial
disrespect. The accusation was ridiculous, and he did not even answer
it. He had so well disguised the persons, he had transported them into
such different surroundings, that no one could recognize in them
their true prototypes. Then--and this is no small praise--if Count de
la Rivonniere is guilty of one fault, that of throwing to the wind his
fortune, he is a most amiable nobleman, full of broad ideas and
generous sentiments,--has a warm heart. The fourth act, in which the
father sacrifices himself in order to save his son's life, is pathetic
in the extreme. But nothing equals the first act, which is a model of
animated and picturesque composition. No one ever painted in more
vivid colors the pillage of a household, and a family without so much
as a shadow of discipline. It is an accumulation of small details, not
one of which is of an indifferent nature, and which, taken together,
drive into our minds the idea that this nobleman, so well-mannered, so
charming in conversation, so sober for himself, is running to ruin as
gayly as he can.

For four years after the production of 'Un Pere Prodigue' Dumas wrote
nothing. But in 1864 he reappeared at the Gymnase with a strange play,
'L'Ami des Femmes' (A Friend of the Sex), which completely failed.
After 'L'Ami des Femmes' there was another interruption, not of
Dumas's labors but of his dramatic production. Perhaps he was sick of
an art which had caused him a cruel disappointment. He turned again to
novel-writing, and published (1866) 'L'Affaire Clemenceau' (The
Clemenceau Case), the success of which was not as great as he had
hoped. In France, when a man is superior in one specialty people will
not let him leave it. He is not allowed to be at once an unequaled
novelist and a first-rate dramatist.

At that time