say concerning Charley and Rosalie had been said in the book,
to the last word. All I had meant not to say would not be said after the
book was written. I asked them to take exactly the same view of Charley
and Rosalie as they would in real life regarding two human beings with
whom they were acquainted, and concerning whom, to their minds, there
was sufficient evidence, or not sufficient evidence, to come to a
conclusion as to what their relations were. I added that, as in real
life we used our judgment upon such things with a reasonable amount
of accuracy, I asked them to apply that judgment to Charley Steele and
Rosalie Evanturel. They and their story were there for eyes to see and
read, and when I had ended my manuscript in the year 1900 I had said
the last word I ever meant to say as to their history. The controversy
therefore continues, for the book still makes its appeal to an ever
increasing congregation of new readers.

But another kind of letter came to me--the letter of some man who had
just such a struggle as Charley Steele, or whose father or brother or
friend had had such a struggle. Letters came from clergymen who had
preached concerning the book; from men who told me in brief their own
life problems and tragedies. These letters I prize; most of them had the
real thing in them, the human truth.

That the book drew wide attention to the Dominion of Canada,
particularly to French Canada, and crystallised something of the life of
that dear Province, was a deep pleasure to me; and I was glad that I
had been able to culminate my efforts to portray the life of the
French-Canadian as I saw it, by a book which arrested the attention of
so comprehensive a public.

I have seen many statements as to the original of Charley Steele, but
I have never seen a story which was true. Many people have told me that
they had seen the original of Charley Steele in an American lawyer. They
knew he was the original, because he himself had said so. The gentleman
was mistaken; I have never seen him. As with the purple cow, I never
hope to see him. Whoever he is or whatever he is, the original Charley
was an abler and a more striking man. I knew him as a boy, and he died
while I was yet a boy, taking with him, save in the memory of a few, a
rare and wonderful, if not wholly lovable personality. For over twenty
years I had carried him in my mind, wondering whether, and when, I
should-make use of him. Again and again I was tempted, b