ill be to do this,--very
imperfectly, beyond a doubt, but, as far as it goes, candidly and
without disguise.

The writer must in the first instance, in order that his remarks may be
accurately judged by the reader, essay to define his own position and
the sphere within which his observations extend. He is a born and bred
Englishman and Londoner, of parentage partly Italian. His professional
employment is that of a Government clerk, of fair average standing; he
is also occupied a good deal in writing for publication, chiefly upon
subjects of fine art. His circle of personal intimacy and
acquaintanceship is mainly made up of artists and literary men,
including especially several of those who have made themselves most
prominent in these classes within the last twenty years; and this
acquaintanceship shades naturally off, in a minor and moderate degree,
into those circles of good social standing which are rather liberally
receptive than productive of literature and art. The writer cannot
profess or affect to be "behind the scenes" of political parties, or to
have dived into the minds of the peerage over their wine or of artisans
in their workshops. He has conversed freely with many persons of culture
and many fair representatives of the average British middle classes, and
has read, in a less or more miscellaneous way, a good many opinions and
statements, in books and newspapers, on both sides of the question. His
own opinions are not strictly to the point, but may as well be stated at
once, so that the reader, if he finds or fancies a bias in the views to
be expressed in the sequel, may know to what to attribute it.

From the first symptoms of Secession to the surrender of the last
Southern army, the writer has felt a vivid interest in the great
struggle and its issues, and a thorough sympathy with the cause of the
North and alienation from that of the South,--points on which he might,
perhaps, be more inclined to dilate, were it not, that, at this late
hour of the day, Northern adherency might read like the mere worship of
success. So it is now, but so it was not, in many circles of English
society at least, during the continuance of the war. Almost up to the
very fall of Richmond, to express a decisive adherence to the Northern
cause was often to be singular and solitary in a roomful of company; the
timorous adherent would be minded to keep silence, and the outspoken one
would be prepared for a stare and an embarrassed p