He has nothing to
offer, he says, but plain fare and rather cramped quarters; but he
has thought deeply, he adds, on many of the problems on which I
touch, and thinks that he could throw light upon some of them.
Imagine what reserves of interest and wisdom he must consider that
he possesses! Then there are patronising letters from people who
say that I have put into words thoughts which they have always had,
and which they never took the trouble to write down; then there are
requests for autographs, and "sentiments," and suggestions for new
books. A man writes to say that I could do untold good if I would
write a book with a purpose, and ventures to propose that I should
take up anti-vivisection. There are a few letters worth their
weight in gold, from good men and true, writers and critics, who
thank me for a book which fulfils its aim and artistic purpose,
while on the other hand there are some from people who find fault
with my book for not doing what I never even attempted to do. Here
is one that has given me deep and unmitigated pain; it is from an
old friend, who, I am told, is aggrieved because he thinks that I
have put him into my book, in the form of an unpleasant character.
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