The curious discussion to which we have referred[1] proves, among other things, that the author of _Dix ans de la vie d'une femme,_ the drama to which Mercier or Rétif de la Bretonne hardly dared subscribe their names, holds two very distinct opinions, which he does not reckon upon reconciling: one as legislator, and one as poet, since he asked the State Commission to suppress the _small immoral theatres,_ and applied for a censorship which should be a salutary check to restrain talent from the _excesses of all kinds_ to which it is too commonly given. The fact is that, had there been a censorship in 1832, my confrère Scribe's talent, which I appreciate more than any one, restrained by _a salutary check,_ would never have given to timorous souls the spectacle of a play which has remained, not as the model, but as the most advanced specimen, of dramatic _eccentricity._ It was M. Scribe, who, in the following sentence which he pronounced before the State Council, suggested to me the word I wanted--"There is not much money made by really literary plays; success is often achieved better by _eccentricities_ and _attacks against morality and the government._" Furthermore, my illustrious confrère possesses a fine reputation as a man of moral character, not only in France but still more abroad; and I am going to relate an anecdote on this subject, which has its amusing side. I lived for two years in Florence before a single theatrical manager thought of playing anything of mine; because I was an immoral man, no play, whether in the original or translated, could be performed in any one of the theatres of the City of Flowers. One fine morning, when I was still in bed, I heard a voice I knew in my sitting-room, and the sound of a friend's name. The voice and the name were those of Doligny. You remember that I spoke about Doligny in connection with the Tompson of _Richard Darlington,_ and that I paid full justice to the remarkable manner in which he had acted the part. Very well, it was Doligny, who, actor and manager, came with a French company to seek his fortune in Italy. Everywhere else fortune has three forelocks: in Italy it has only one; everywhere else, it turns on a single wheel: in Italy, it turns on two. Which is to say that, in Italy, more than anywhere else, fortune is for everybody, and particularly for the managers of literary enterprises, an Atlanta difficult to overtake and to seize by the hair. Doligny, then, went from Turin to Milan, from Milan to Rome, from Rome to Naples, from Naples to Venice, from Venice to Bologna, in the hope of overtaking fortune. He had not yet succeeded. Finally, he thought he saw a vision of gold in the direction of Florence. He smote his forehead and said to himself: Why have I not thought of that before? What he had not thought of was my presence at Florence. I carry about with me--where it comes from I have no idea; but there it is, indeed--I