PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1840. 

HOWEVER numerous the works of fiction with which, my dear Reader, I have
trespassed on your attention, I leave published but three, of any
account, in which the plot has been cast amidst the events, and coloured
by the manner, of our own times.  The first of these, /Pelham/, composed
when I was little more than a boy, has the faults, and perhaps the
merits, natural to a very early age,--when the novelty itself of life
quickens the observation,--when we see distinctly, and represent
vividly, what lies upon the surface of the world,--and when, half
sympathising with the follies we satirise, there is a gusto in our
paintings which atones for their exaggeration.  As we grow older we
observe less, we reflect more; and, like Frankenstein, we dissect in
order to create. 

The second novel of the present day,* which, after an interval of some
years, I submitted to the world, was one I now, for the first time,
acknowledge, and which (revised and corrected) will be included in this
series, viz., /Godolphin/;--a work devoted to a particular portion of
society, and the development of a peculiar class of character.  The