However in a consideration of “The Miracle of St. Anthony,” the life of the man, his place as a philosopher, and his achievements as a poet are only indirectly concerned. The little play counts first of all in its relation to “La Princesse Maleine,” “Les Sept Princesses,” and especially, “Les Aveugles,” and “L’Intruse.” Perhaps closest to it of them all is “L’Intruse.” To recall that play. It does not need the Dutch clock in the corner to fix the scene in the Lowlands. In a dimly lighted room in an old country house the grandfather, the father, the uncle, the three daughters are sitting about a table. It has rained the whole week and the night without is damp and cold. In the next room lies the sick mother. The father is hopeful, relying on the assurances of the doctors. But not the grandfather. They are expecting some one. They speak in low voices, at random. Besides the woman in the other room there is a young child. THE UNCLE—The little one would cause me more anxiety than your wife. It is now several weeks since he was born, and he has scarcely stirred. He has not cried once all the time! He is like a wax doll. THE GRANDFATHER—I think he will be deaf—dumb, too, perhaps—the usual result of marriages between cousins. (_A reproving silence._) THE FATHER—I could almost wish him ill for the suffering he has caused his mother. THE UNCLE—Be reasonable. It is not the poor little thing’s fault. He is quite alone in the room. More and more is the old man troubled. He complains that he can no longer hear the nightingales, and that some one must be in the garden. The trees in the park are trembling as if some one was brushing a way through, the swans are scared, and the fishes diving in the pond, but the watch-dog does not bark. Through the glass door, that some mysterious agency has opened, the cold rushes into the room. The sound of a scythe being sharpened is heard outside. The child that has before been silent, begins to cry. There is a knock at the door. The Father partly opens it, and speaks to the servant, who answers, remaining on the outside. THE GRANDFATHER—Your sister is at the door? THE UNCLE—I can see only the servant. THE FATHER—It was only the servant. (_To the servant_) Who was that, that came into the house?