y of buyers and borrowers of novels; and you judge of works of fiction by certain inbred prefer
t tells no story, or that blunders perpetually in trying to tell a story-a novel so entirely devoid of all sense of the dramatic side of human life, that not even a theatrical thief can find
k; and I have never succeeded in keeping an equal balance. In the present story you will find the s
f work-that I may have little time to lose. Without waiting for future opportunities, I have kept your
ers with a vigour and breadth of treatment, derived from the nearest and truest view that I could get of the one model, Nature. Whether I shall at once succeed in adding to the circle of your friends in the world of fiction-or whether you will hur
came to think of writing this book. The question may be readily answered in better words than mine. My book has
ON.-"It was always
y have a good thing, t
nry IV.,
ON-"I am no great be
be derived from the adv
ure tends, when pushed
t." (Letter to
The education of the
p-Humility." (Lecture
al Inst
the book, let me conclude by telling
are purposely left in ignorance of the hideous secrets of Vivisection. The outside of the laboratory is a necessary object in my landscape-but I never once open the door and invite you to look in. I trace, in one of my characters, the result of the habitual practice of cruelty (no matter under what pretence) in fatally deteriorating the nature
nt withdraws, and lea