CHAPTER X. 



" THE STORY OF MY HEART." 



IN the history of literature one happens, from 

 time to time, upon a book which has been 

 written because the author had no choice but 

 to write it. He was compelled by hidden 

 forces to write it. There was no rest for him, 

 day or night, so soon as the book was complete 

 in his mind, until he sat down to write it. And 

 then he wrote it at a white heat. For eighteen 

 years, Jefferies says, he pondered over this 

 book he means, that he brooded over these 

 and cognate subjects from the time of adoles- 

 cence. At last his mind was full, and then 

 but not till then he wrote it. 



Those who have not read it must understand 

 at the outset that it is the book of one who 

 dares to question for himself on the most im- 



