y as well as Nana, a farmer boy as well as
Achilles--in that case there is an heredity which does not exist. A
man can be that which he wishes to be. The field for good will and
responsibility is open, and all those moral foundations on which human
life is based come out of the fire safely. We could say to the author
that there is too much ado about nothing, and finish with him as one
finishes with a doctrinarian and count only his talent. But he cares
for something else. No matter if his doctrine is empty, he makes from
it other deductions. The entire cycle of his books speaks precisely.
"No matter what you are, saint or criminal, you are such on the
strength of the law of heredity, you are such as you must be, and in
that case you have neither merit nor are you guilty." Here is the
question of responsibility! But we are not going to discuss it. The
philosophy has not yet found the proof of the existence of man, and
when _cogito ergo sum_ of Cartesius was not sufficient for it, the
question is still open. Even if all centuries of philosophy affirm it
or not, the man is intrinsically persuaded that he exists, and no less
persuaded that he is responsible for his whole life, which, without
any regard to his theories, is based on such persuasion. And then even
the science did not decide the question of the whole responsibility.
Against authorities one can quote other authorities, against opinions
one can bring other opinions, against deductions other deductions.
But for Zola such opinion is decided. There is only one grandmother
Adelaide, or grandfather Jacques, on whom everything depends. From
that point begins, according to my opinion, the bad influence of the
writer, because he not only decides difficult questions to be decided
once and forever, but he popularizes them and facilitates the
corruption of society. No matter if every thief or every murderer can
appeal to a grandmother with nervousness. Courts, notwithstanding the
cycle of Rougon-Macquart, will place them behind bars. The evil is not
in single cases, but in this, that into the human soul a bad pessimism
and depression flows, that the charm of life is destroyed, the hope,
the energy, the liking for life, and therefore all effort in the
direction of good is shattered.

_A quoi bon?_ Such is the question coming by itself. A book is also an
activity, forming human souls. If at least the reader would find
in Zola's book the bad and good side of human life in an e