As for Mr. Lawrence’s “mystery,” it does not amount to much, though it is intended, like everything else, to serve a purpose. Look at it as it appears, and in ten minutes a bill-sticker could hatch a better plot. Look at it as it appears, and it is idiotic, yet perfectly harmless; look at it in its figurative meaning, and, though it is not so good as was intended, it yet—but we are too discreet to say more on this head.
The writer respectfully observes that his maniac is not drawn from nature, but from romance. He never informed himself of the habits of those unfortunate people—never had the pleasure of even a slight acquaintance with them—but drew Uncle Dick’s history blindly from romance.
As for the villain’s confession, it is thrown in gratuitously, as ballast to the story, and to pacify the readers of heavy romance.
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive,”
as many a writer’s confused plot bears witness. Having many objects in view in writing this story, the reader must make the best of it, if it sometimes seems disjointed. Still, if the astute reader thinks he detects a place where this history does not hang together, let him not be too much elated, for the writer believes he could point out several such places himself.
Of course, no boy will read this preface; it would, therefore, be a waste of time to address a discourse to boys in it. Reader, did you ever observe the manner in which a boy ignores the preface in his school-books? If not, you do not know how much scorn a boy’s face is capable of displaying.
Nevertheless, this preface may be of use to a boy. Suppose that an indulgent uncle should be jockeyed into buying a copy of this book for his little nephew. In such a case, would not this preface make an admirable “flier” for the little nephew’s dart? Certainly it would; and the next morning the little nephew’s mamma would find a picturesque dart, with this elaborate preface fluttering at the end, adorning a panel of the parlour door.
“Perhaps,” sneers the reader of mature years, “you think to have a fling at the almost antiquated custom of writing prefaces?”