m of the
British executive in Quebec.

It is a satisfaction to include this book in a definitive edition of
my works, for I think that, so far as it goes, it is truthfully
characteristic of French life in Canada, that its pictures are faithful,
and that the character-drawing represents a closer observation than
any of the previous works, slight as the volume is. It holds the same
relation to 'The Right of Way' that 'The Trail of the Sword' holds
to 'The Seats of the Mighty', that 'A Ladder of Swords' holds to 'The
Battle of the Strong', that 'Donovan Pasha' holds to 'The Weavers'.
Instinctively, and, as I believe, naturally, I gave to each ambitious,
and--so far as conception goes--to each important novel of mine, an
avant coureur. 'The Trail of the Sword, A Ladder of Swords, Donovan
Pasha and The Pomp of the Lavilettes', are all very short novels, not
exceeding in any case sixty thousand words, while the novels dealing in
a larger way with the same material--the same people and environment,
with the same mise-en-scene, were each of them at least one hundred and
forty thousand words in length, or over two and a half times as long. I
do not say that this is a system which I devised; but it was, from the
first, the method I pursued instinctively; on the basis that dealing
with a smaller subject--with what one might call a genre picture first,
I should get well into my field, and acquire greater familiarity with my
material than I should have if I attempted the larger work at once.

This is not to say that the smaller work was immature. On the contrary,
I believe that at least these shorter works are quite mature in their
treatment and in their workmanship and design. Naturally, however, they
made less demand on all one's resources, they were narrower in scope and
less complicated, than the longer works, like 'The Seats of the Mighty',
which made heavier call upon the capacities of one's art. The only
occasion on which I have not preceded a very long novel of life in a new
field, by a very short one, is in the writing of 'The Judgment House'.
For this book, however, it might be said, that all the last twenty years
was a preparation, since the scenes were scenes in which I had lived
and moved, and in a sense played a part; while the ten South African
chapters of the book placed in the time of the Natal campaign needed
no pioneer narrative to increase familiarity with the material, the
circumstances and the country itself.