Zola, in order to combat those evils, and to do his duty as a good
citizen anxious to prevent the decline of his country, should have dealt
with his subject with the greatest frankness and outspokenness, was only
natural. Moreover, absolute freedom of speech exists in France, which is
not the case elsewhere. Thus, when I first perused the original proofs of
M. Zola's work, I came to the conclusion that any version of it in the
English language would be well-nigh impossible. For some time I remained
of that opinion, and I made a statement to that effect in a leading
literary journal. Subsequently, however, my views became modified. "The
man who is ridiculous," wrote a French poet, Barthelemy, "is he whose
opinions never change," and thus I at last reverted to a task from which
I had turned aside almost in despair.

Various considerations influenced me, and among them was the thought that
if "Fruitfulness" were not presented to the public in an English dress,
M. Zola's new series would remain incomplete, decapitated so far as
British and American readers were concerned. After all, the criticisms
dealing with the French original were solely directed against matters of
form, the mould in which some part of the work was cast. Its high moral
purpose was distinctly recognized by several even of its most bitter
detractors. For me the problem was how to retain the whole ensemble of
the narrative and the essence of the lessons which the work inculcates,
while recasting some portion of it and sacrificing those matters of form
to which exception was taken. It is not for me to say whether I have
succeeded in the task; but I think that nothing in any degree offensive
to delicate susceptibilities will be found in this present version of M.
Zola's book.

The English reviews of the French original showed that if certain
portions of it were deemed indiscreet, it none the less teemed with