Society can form only certain regulations necessary for its self-defence,--the fewer the better,--punish those who invade, leave unquestioned those who respect them.

But fiction follows truth into all the strongholds of convention; strikes through the disguise, lifts the mask, bares the heart, and leaves a moral wherever it brands a falsehood.
Out of this range of ideas the mind of the Author has, perhaps, emerged into an atmosphere which he believes to be more congenial to Art.

But he can no more regret that he has passed through it than he can regret that while he dwelt there his heart, like his years, was young.

Sympathy with the suffering that seems most actual, indignation at the frauds which seem most received as virtues, are the natural emotions of youth, if earnest.

More sensible afterwards of the prerogatives, as of the elements, of Art, the Author, at least, seeks to escape where the man may not, and look on the practical world through the serener one of the ideal.
With the completion of this work closed an era in the writer's self-education.