true that he could not have done
otherwise, but at the same time there is a fault in the conception,
and although Sienkiewicz has covered the precipice with flowers,
nevertheless the precipice exists.

On the other hand, it is true that one reading the novel will forget
the trick of the author and will see in it only the picture of an
immense happiness and a hymn in the worship of love. Perhaps the poor
student is right when he says: "Among all the sources of happiness,
that from which I drank during the fever is the clearest and best." "A
life which love has not visited, even in a dream, is still worse."

Love and faith in woman and art are two constantly recurring themes
in "Lux in Tenebris," "At the Source," "Be Blessed," and "Organist of
Ponikila."

When Sienkiewicz wrote "Let Us Follow Him," some critics cried angrily
that he lessens his talent and moral worth of the literature; they
regretted that he turned people into the false road of mysticism, long
since left. Having found Christ on his pages, the least religious
people have recollected how gigantic he is in the writings of Heine,
walking over land and sea, carrying a red, burning sun instead of a
heart. They all understood that to introduce Christ not only worthily
or beautifully, but simply and in such a manner that we would not be
obliged to turn away from the picture, would be a great art--almost a
triumph.

In later times we have made many such attempts. "The Mysticism" became
to-day an article of commerce. The religious tenderness and simplicity
was spread among Parisian newspaper men, playwrights and novelists.
Such as Armand Sylvestre, such as Theodore de Wyzewa, are playing at
writing up Christian dogmas and legends. And a strange thing! While
the painters try to bring the Christ nearer to the crowd, while
Fritz von Uhde or Lhermitte put the Christ in a country school, in a
workingman's house, the weakling writers, imitating poets, dress Him
in old, faded, traditional clothes and surround Him with a theatrical
light which they dare to call "mysticism." They are crowding the
porticos of the temple, but they are merely merchants. Anatole France
alone cannot be placed in the same crowd.

In "Let Us Follow Him" the situation and characters are known, and
are already to be found in literature. But never were they painted so
simply, so modestly, without romantic complaints and exclamations. In
the first chapters of that story there appears an epic wr