“Fading, with the Night, the memory of a dead love, and the withered leaves of a blighted hope, and the sickly repinings and moody regrets that numb the best energies of the soul: and rising, broadening, rolling upward like a living flood, the manly resolve, and the dauntless will, and the heavenward gaze of faith—the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen!
“Look Eastward! Aye, look Eastward!”
Volume II
Dreams, that elude the Waker’s frenzied grasp–
Hands, stark and still, on a dead Mother’s breast,
Which nevermore shall render clasp for clasp,
Or deftly soothe a weeping Child to rest–
In suchlike forms me listeth to portray
My Tale, here ended. Thou delicious Fay–
The guardian of a Sprite that lives to tease thee–
Loving in earnest, chiding but in play
The merry mocking Bruno! Who, that sees thee,
Can fail to love thee, Darling, even as I?–
My sweetest Sylvie, we must say “Goodbye!”
Preface
I must begin with the same announcement as in the previous Volume (which I shall henceforward refer to as “Vol. I,” calling the present Volume “Vol. II”), viz. that the Locket, at chapter 25, was drawn by “Miss Alice Havers.” And my reason, for not stating this on the titlepage—that it seems only due, to the artist of these wonderful pictures, that his name should stand there alone—has, I think, even greater weight in Vol. II than it had in Vol. I. Let me call especial attention to the three “Little Birds” borders, at chapter 23. The way, in which he has managed to introduce the most minute details of the stanzas to be illustrated, seems to me a triumph of artistic ingenuity.
Let me here express my sincere gratitude to the many Reviewers who have noticed, whether favorably or unfavorably, the previous Volume. Their unfavorable remarks were, most probably, well-deserved; the favorable ones less probably so. Both kinds have no doubt served to make the book known, and have helped the reading Public to form their opinions of it. Let me also here assure them that it is not from any want of respect for their criticisms, that I have carefully forborne from reading any of them. I am strongly of opinion that an author had far better not read any reviews of his books: the unfavorable ones are almost certain to make him cross, and the favorable ones conceited; and neither of these results is desirable.
Criticisms have, however, reached me from private sources, to some of which I propose to offer a reply.
One such critic complains that Arthur’s strictures, on sermons and on choristers, are too severe. Let me say, in reply, that I do not hold myself responsible for any of the opinions expressed by the characters in my book. They are simply opinions which, it seemed to me, might probably be held by the persons into whose mouths I put them, and which were worth consideration.
Other critics have objected to certain innovations in spelling,2 such as “ca’n’t,” “wo’n’t,” “traveler.” In reply, I can only plead my firm conviction that the popular usage is wrong. As to “ca’n’t,” it will not be disputed that, in all other words ending in “n’t,” these letters are an abbreviation of “not”; and it is surely absurd to suppose that, in this solitary instance, “not” is represented by “ ’t”! In fact “ca’n’t” is the proper abbreviation for “can it,” just as “is’t” is for “is it.” Again, in “wo’n’t,” the first apostrophe is needed, because the word “would” is here abridged into “wo”: but I hold it proper to spell “don’t” with only one apostrophe, because the word “do” is here complete. As to such words as “traveler,” I hold the correct principle to be, to double the consonant when the accent falls on that syllable; otherwise to leave it single. This rule is observed in most cases (e.g. we double the r in “preferred,” but leave it single in “offered”), so that I am only extending, to other cases, an existing rule. I admit, however, that I do not spell “parallel,” as the rule would have it; but here we are constrained, by the etymology, to insert the double l.
In the Preface to Vol. I were two puzzles, on which my readers might exercise their ingenuity. One was, to detect the three lines of “padding,” which I had found it necessary to supply in the passage at chapter 3. The other puzzle was, to determine which (if any) of the 8 stanzas of the Gardener’s Song (see stanza number 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8) were adapted to the context, and which (if any) had the context adapted to them. The last of them is the only one that was adapted to the context, the “Garden-Door that opened with a key” having been substituted for some creature (a Cormorant, I think) “that nestled in a tree.” In stanzas 2, 5 and 7, the context was adapted to the stanza. In the fourth, neither stanza nor context was altered: the connection between them was simply a piece of good luck.
In the Preface to Vol. I, I gave an account of the making-up of the story of “Sylvie and Bruno.” A few more details may perhaps be acceptable to my Readers.
It was in 1873, as I now believe, that the idea first occurred to me that a little fairytale (written, in 1867, for “Aunt Judy’s Magazine,” under the title “Bruno’s Revenge”) might serve as the nucleus of a longer story. This I surmise, from having found the original draft of the last paragraph of Vol.
