oeur et de l'Esprit_, on the other hand--one of
the author's earliest books--is the furthest from that most undesirable
consummation, and one of the most curious, if not of the most amusing,
of all. It recounts, from the mouth of the neophyte himself, the
"forming" of a very young man--almost a boy--to this strange kind of
commerce, by an elderly, but not yet old, and still attractive
coquette, Madame de Lursay, whose earlier life has scandalised even the
not easily scandalisable society of her time (we are not told quite
how), but who has recovered a reputation very slightly tarnished. The
hero is flattered, but for a long time too timid and innocent to avail
himself of the advantages offered to him; while, before very long,
Madame de Lursay's wiles are interfered with by an "Inconnue-Ingenue,"
with whom he falls in deep calf-love of a quasi-genuine kind. The book
includes sketches of the half-bravo gallants of the time, and is not
negligible: but it is not vividly interesting.

Still less so, though they contain some very lively passages, and are
the chief _locus_ for Crebillon's treatment of the actual trio of
husband, wife, and lover, are the _Lettres de la Marquise de M---- au
Comte de P----_. The scene in which the husband--unfaithful, peevish,
and a _petit maitre_--enters his wife's room to find an ancient, gouty
Marquis, who cannot get off his knees quick enough, and terminates the
situation with all the _aplomb_ of the Regency, is rather nice: and the
gradual "slide" of the at first quite virtuous writer (the wife herself,
of course) is well depicted. But love-letters which are neither
half-badinage--which these are not--nor wholly passionate--which these
never are till the last,[348] when the writer is describing a state of
things which Crebillon could not manage at all--are very difficult
things to bring off, and Claude Prosper is not quite equal to the
situation.

It will thus be seen that the objectors whom we have called A and B--or
at least B--will find that they or he need not read all the pages of all
the seven volumes to justify their views: and some other work, still to
be mentioned, completes the exhibition. I confess, indeed, once more
unblushingly, that I have not read every page of them myself. Had they
fallen in my way forty years ago I should, no doubt, have done so; but
forty years of critical experience and exercise give one the power, and
grant one the right, of a more summary procedure in r