ornhill_, _Longmans'_, _The
Gentleman's_, and _Belgravia_. If I recollect aright, the first
suggestion to collect and reprint them all in a single volume came from
Mr. Chatto. They were published as 'Strange Stories,' under my own name,
and I thus, for the first time, acknowledged my desertion of my earliest
loves--science and philosophy--for the less profound but more lucrative
pursuit of literature.

[Illustration: A SHELF IN THE STUDY]

'Strange Stories' was well received and well reviewed. Its reception
gave me confidence for future ventures. Acting upon James Payn's advice,
I set to work seriously upon a three-volume novel. My first idea was to
call it 'Born out of Due Time,' as it narrated the struggles of a
Socialist thinker a century in front of his generation; but, at Mr.
Chatto's suggestion, the title was afterwards changed to 'Philistia.' I
desired, if possible, to run it through the _Cornhill_, and Mr. Payn
promised to take it into his most favourable consideration for that
purpose. However, when the unfinished manuscript was submitted in due
time to his editorial eye, he rightly objected that it was far too
socialistic for the tastes of his public. He said it would rather repel
than attract readers. I was disappointed at the time. I see now that, as
an editor, he was perfectly right; I was giving the public what I felt
and thought and believed myself, not what the public felt and thought
and wanted. The education of an English novelist consists entirely in
learning to subordinate all his own ideas and tastes and opinions to the
wishes and beliefs of the inexorable British matron.

[Illustration: 'THANK YOU, SIR']

Mr. Chatto, however, was prepared to accept the undoubted risk of
publishing 'Philistia.' Only, to meet his views, the _denoument_ was
altered. In the original version, the hero came to a bad end, as a hero
in real life who is in advance of his age, and consistent and honest,
must always do. But the British matron, it seems, likes her novels to
'end well'; so I married him off instead, and made him live happily ever
afterward. Mr. Chatto gave me a lump sum down for serial rights and
copyright, and ran 'Philistia' through the pages of _The Gentleman's_.
When it finally appeared in book form, it obtained on the whole more
praise than blame, and, as it paid a great deal better than scientific
journalism, it decided me that my _role_ in life henceforth must be that
of a novelist. And a novelist I