Émile Zola writing "Fécondité" at Walton-on-Thames, 1898 —Photo by V. R. Vizetelly

Zola's defence with respect to "Rome" will be found in a volume called "Nouvelle Campagne,"[12] which contains a number of articles he contributed to "Le Figaro" in 1896. They are of all sorts. The first, on the opportunism of Leo XIII, foreshadows the denunciation of the Roman Catholic Church which eventually appeared in "Vérité"; while another, called "Dépopulation," contains the germ of "Fécondité." There are various papers on the professional interests of literary men; a couple on Zola's love of animals, which was very marked throughout his life, and an incisive one, called "The Toad," in which he railed at the people who sent him abusive letters and the newspaper men who pursued him with pinpricks. Then, in a paper on a Parisian clairvoyante, a certain Mademoiselle Couesdon, who pretended to be in direct communication with the archangel Gabriel, he commented on the childishness of the imposture and deplored the senseless eagerness with which people imagined they would discover the secrets of the invisible by consulting a semi-hysterical girl. At the same time he admitted that such was the trend of the modern mind; and, after all, as people could only satisfy their yearnings in this way, one must let them do so, said he, pending the time when science would nourish the world with the bread of truth. However, the most notable article in the volume was certainly the one entitled "For the Jews," in which for the first time Zola gave expression to his surprise and disgust at the progress of anti-Semitism in France. In that campaign, the Dreyfus case, which at first had been merely an incident, was soon to become everything, for Colonel Picquart was now (July, 1896) making important discoveries which convinced him of the innocence of Dreyfus and the guilt of Esterhazy. That was as yet unknown to Zola, who did not begin to intervene until late in the autumn of the following year. Thus, in protesting against the anti-Jewish agitation which had been growing and spreading for some years past, he treated the question from a general point of view without mentioning the unhappy prisoner of Devil's Island. And here one may well call a halt to consider the state of affairs which had prompted Zola to raise his voice on behalf of a community with which he had no connection whatever, either racial or religious, but which he defended by virtue entirely of the guiding principles of his life,—the principles of truth and justice.


[1] "Enquête Médico-Psychologique sur les Rapports de la Supériorité Intellectuelle avec la Névropathie. Introduction générale. Émile Zola," by Dr. É. Toulouse, Paris, 1896.

[2] "Journal des Goncourt," Vol. VI, p. 254.

[3] According to Dr. Toulouse, Zola was less keen than most people in detecting odours, but he had a "smell memory" and could remember objects by their scent.

[4] Published in 1893.

[5] He showed great sensitiveness to all cutaneous impressions. He could not wear clothes in any degree tight, or lie in bed "tucked in." As a rule he slept for seven hours, and on awaking he constantly complained of pains in one and another part of the body, this being a symptom common among those who are liable to nervous affections.

[6] Not in the work previously quoted, but in a paper he wrote after Zola's death ("Le Temps," October, 1902).

[7] "Westminster Review," January, 1891, "Patriotism and Chastity," p. 2.