y acute, hardly concerns us at all; his _Essai
sur les Romans_ being very disappointing.[388] But he wrote not a little
which must, in different ways and "strengths," be classed as actual
fiction, and this concerns us pretty nearly, both as evidencing that
general set towards the novel which is so important, and also in detail.

[Sidenote: His "Telemachic" imitations worth little.]

It divides itself quite obviously into two classes, the almost didactic
matter of _Belisaire_ and _Les Incas_, and the still partly didactic,
but much more "fictionised" _Contes Moraux_. The first part (which is
evidently of the family of _Telemaque_) may be rapidly dismissed. Except
for its good French and good intentions, it has long had, and is likely
always to have, very little to say for itself. We have seen that Prevost
attempted a sort of quasi-historical novel. Of actual history there is
little in _Belisaire_, rather more in _Les Incas_. But historical fact
and story-telling art are entirely subordinated in both to moral
purpose, endless talk about virtue and the affections and justice and
all the rest of it--the sort of thing, in short, which provoked the
immortal outburst, "In the name of the Devil and his grandmother, _be_
virtuous and have done with it!" There is, as has just been said, a
great deal of this in the _Contes_ also; but fortunately there is
something else.

[Sidenote: The best of his _Contes Moraux_ worth a good deal.]

The something else is not to be found in the "Sensibility" parts,[389]
and could not be expected to be. They do, indeed, contain perhaps the
most absolutely ludicrous instance of the absurdest side of that
remarkable thing, except Mackenzie's great _trouvaille_ of the
press-gang who unanimously melted into tears[390] at the plea of an
affectionate father. Marmontel's masterpiece is not so very far removed
in subject from this. It represents a good young man, who stirs up the
timorous captain and crew of a ship against an Algerine pirate, and in
the ensuing engagement, sabre in hand, makes a terrible carnage: "As
soon as he sees an African coming on board, he runs to him and cuts him
in half, crying, 'My poor mother!'" The filial hero varies this a
little, when "disembowelling" the Algerine commander, by requesting the
Deity to "have pity on" his parent--a proceeding faintly suggestive of a
survival in his mind of the human-sacrifice period.

Fortunately, as has been said, it is not always thus: an