Said a friend of mine to me some months ago: "Well now, why don't you
write a _sensible_ book? I should like to see you make people think."
"Do you believe it can be done, then?" I asked.
"Well, try," he replied.
Accordingly, I have tried. This is a sensible book. I want you to
understand that. This is a book to improve your mind. In this book I
tell you all about Germany--at all events, all I know about Germany--and
the Ober-Ammergau Passion Play. I also tell you about other things. I
do not tell you all I know about all these other things, because I do not
want to swamp you with knowledge. I wish to lead you gradually. When
you have learnt this book, you can come again, and I will tell you some
more. I should only be defeating my own object did I, by making you
think too much at first, give you a perhaps, lasting dislike to the
exercise. I have purposely put the matter in a light and attractive
form, so that I may secure the attention of the young and the frivolous.
I do not want them to notice, as they go on, that they are being
instructed; and I have, therefore, endeavoured to disguise from them, so
far as is practicable, that this is either an exceptionally clever or an
exceptionally useful work. I want to do them good without their knowing
it. I want to do you all good--to improve your minds and to make you
think, if I can.
_What_ you will think after you have read the book, I do not want to
know; indeed, I would rather not know. It will be sufficient reward for
me to feel that I have done my duty, and to receive a percentage on the
gross sales.
LONDON, _March_, 1891.