There are not lacking undiscerning folk who judge Balzac’s short-stories by the tone of his _Contes Drolatiques_. It is far from true, however, that Balzac preferred to deal with the corrupt side of life. In reality, he was a great moralist, with robust convictions of right and wrong, and a nicely balanced moral judgment. Yet this contradictory spirit did wallow in filthy imaginations all too often, committed personal follies, pictured the courtesan and the pander, marital infidelity and sordidness in countless manifestations. But let it be remembered that he chose to depict a society which was not only the product of his age, but the outcome of a national life. No one could be more fearless in exposing vice, and while it may be questioned whether the world greatly profits morally by such vivid picturings, it cannot be doubted that Balzac’s social philosophy was not that of the literary pander. His soul had altitude, as one has said, as well as latitude. Balzac was keenly sensitive to criticism of his moral influence, and himself answered the charge of being a creator of vicious feminine types: “The author cannot end these remarks without publishing here the result of a conscientious examination which his critics have forced him to make in relation to the number of virtuous women and criminal women whom he has placed on the literary stage. As soon as his first terror left him time to reflect, his first care was to collect his _corps d’armée_, in order to see if the balance which ought to be found between those two elements of his written world was exact, relatively to the measure of vice and virtue which enters into the composition of our present morals. He found himself rich by thirty-odd virtuous women against twenty-two criminal women, whom he here takes the liberty of ranging in order of battle, in order that the immense results already obtained may not be disputed. To this he adds that he has not counted-in a number of virtuous women whom he has left in the shade--where so many of them are in real life.” (Here followed tabulated lists of his prominent women characters, as arranged by himself). In considering the big plot of the social study, _La Grande Brétêche_--not perfectly translated “The Great House”--we are interestingly reminded of the similar _motifs_ in Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado,” and Mrs. Wharton’s “The Duchess at Prayer”--just as our author’s “A Seashore Drama” recalls the more artistic story of fatherly execution, “Mateo Falcone,” by Mèrimèe. In _La Grande Brétêche_ a company of friends are spending an evening together and one is asked to tell a story--a conventional opening enough. He describes a house which has been deserted, the large and once beautiful gardens overgrown with weeds. Neglect and decay are everywhere. The story of the house is this--told with much Balzacian preliminary circumstance: