few necessary technical corrections, and changes
of names of people and of one vessel--the one in which the first voyage
was made--the manuscript appears almost as it left the hands of its
author.

As a true tale, as a study of sociology, as a picture of one human life
somehow bent and twisted from the normal, this work, it seems to the
editor, is one of the most surprising of productions. Its frank
unconsciousness, its striking revelations, its absence from all pose,
combine to make it unique among the writings of men. The Confessions of
Rousseau appear, in phases, almost artificial compared with the simple
but startling revelation which is here given.

It was not hopelessness, nor recklessness, nor penitence, which made
this man write down unflinchingly what he remembered of the story of his
life. A cheerful reminiscent vein runs throughout all he tells. His
sense of humour is ever present. Nowhere appears a hint of the tragedy
of his experience. Of that he was not conscious. He was as free from
remorse and self-upbraiding as a wild animal or a tree.

The story, one would imagine, should appeal to those who think. From the
beginning can be seen, in the character of the runaway sailor and
one-time officer of the navy, traits which indicate his absolute
failure, eventually, as a man. He drifts. He is irresponsible. He
escapes from one dilemma only to get into another. He is thriftless, and
takes no thought for the morrow. He has no regard for the truth, nor any
for the rights of property. He lies and steals simply because lying and
stealing are the obvious things for him to do. He does not think of
doing anything else. The manner in which the story is told is
characteristic, and should open the eyes of sentimentalists as to the
real attitude of habitual criminals. Never, from first to last, is there
an expression of genuine shame or the least contrition. There are, it is
true, occasional sentences in which the man calls himself a fool, and
betrays a glimmering of appreciation of the general want of sense and
wisdom in his course, but there is no ring of sincere repentance nor of
sorrow over a wasted life. This extraordinary character is simply of the
opinion that he has not been clever enough. He never suspects that he
has not been good enough to live a normal life among normal people. The
truth is, he had no clear ideas of right and wrong.

Released from prison, and glad to be free, he always declared that now
he