"even so," said the author, despondingly. "you cannot conceive what an effect the composition of these tales has had on me. i have become ambitious of a bubble, and careless of solid reputation. i am surrounding myself with shadows, which bewilder me, by aping the realities of life. they have drawn me aside from the beaten path of the world, and led me into a strange sort of solitude, a solitude in the midst of men,-where nobody wishes for what i do, nor thinks nor feels as i do. the tales have done all this. when they are ashes, perhaps i shall be as i was before they had existence. moreover, the sacrifice is less than you may suppose, since nobody will publish them."