er fault may be found with the "Sensibility" novel, it is, as a
rule, "written by gentlemen [and ladies] for [ladies and] gentlemen." Of
the work of two curious writers, who may furnish the last detailed
notices of this volume, as much cannot, unfortunately, be said.

[Sidenote: Restif de la Bretonne.]

It may, from different points of view, surprise different classes of
readers to find Restif de la Bretonne (or as some would call him, Retif)
mentioned here at all--at any rate to find him taken seriously, and not
entirely without a certain respect. One of these classes, consisting of
those who know nothing about him save at second-hand, may ground their
surprise on the notion that his work is not only matter for the _Index
Expurgatorius_, but also vulgar and unliterary, such as a French Ned
Ward, without even Ned's gutter-wit, might have written. And these might
derive some support from the stock ticket-jingle _Rousseau du ruisseau_,
which, though not without some real pertinency, is directly misleading.
Another class, consisting of some at least, if not most, of those who
have read him to some extent, may urge that Decency--taking her revenge
for the axiom of the boatswain in _Mr. Midshipman Easy_--forbids Duty to
let him in. And yet others, less under the control of any Mrs. Grundy,
literary or moral, may ask why he is let in, and Choderlos de
Laclos[418] and Louvet de Courray, with some more, kept out, as they
most assuredly will be.

In the first place, there is no vulgarity in Restif. If he had had a
more regular education and society, literary or other, and could have
kept his mind, which was to a certainty slightly unhinged, off the
continual obsession of morbid subjects, he might have been a very
considerable man of letters, and he is no mean one, so far as style
goes,[419] as it is. He avails himself duly of the obscurity of a
learned language when he has to use (which is regrettably often) words
that do not appear in the dictionary of the Academy: and there is not
the slightest evidence of his having taken to pornography for money, as
Louvet and Laclos--as, one must regretfully add, Diderot, if not even
Crebillon--certainly did. When a certain subject, or group of subjects,
gets hold of a man--especially one of those whom a rather celebrated
French lady called _les cerebraux_--he can think of nothing else: and
though this is not absolutely true of Restif (for he had several minor
crazes), it is very nearly t