sciousness of
this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page
here or there. He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the
interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier
pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some
obscure point. In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the
romance, and also in the degree of concentration with which he reads
it, does he grasp better the subtleties of the narrative. No shade of
character drawing escapes him. He realizes, with keener appreciation,
the most delicate of human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to
introduce the characters to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by
the most general characteristics, but can describe each of those little
individual idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living
personality.

When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a
slave to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of
his time, it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to
sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has
the natural desire that his generation should applaud him.

As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads
or fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be
irresistibly swayed by current opinion. But the novelist, entirely
independent of his reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the
opinion of any person, or to submit to his caprices. He is absolutely
free to picture society as he sees it, and we therefore can have more
confidence in his descriptions of the customs and characters of the day.

It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series
has taken, and herein is the raison d'etre of this collection of
great French romances. The choice was not easy to make. That form of
literature called the romance abounds with us. France has always
loved it, for French writers exhibit a curiosity--and I may say an
indiscretion--that is almost charming in the study of customs and morals
at large; a quality that induces them to talk freely of themselves and
of their neighbors, and to set forth fearlessly both the good and the
bad in human nature. In this fascinating phase of literature, France
never has produced greater examples than of late years.

In the collection here presented to American readers will be found
those works especial