It is, however, not so much the bulk of my play as its contents which
banish it from the stage. Its scheme and economy require that several
characters should appear who would offend the finer feelings of virtue
and shock the delicacy of our manners. Every delineator of human
character is placed in the same dilemma if he proposes to give a
faithful picture of the world as it really is, and not an ideal
phantasy, a mere creation of his own. It is the course of mortal things
that the good should be shadowed by the bad, and virtue shine the
brightest when contrasted with vice. Whoever proposes to discourage
vice and to vindicate religion, morality, and social order against their
enemies, must unveil crime in all its deformity, and place it before the
eyes of men in its colossal magnitude; he must diligently explore its
dark mazes, and make himself familiar with sentiments at the wickedness
of which his soul revolts.

Vice is here exposed in its innermost workings. In Francis it resolves
all the confused terrors of conscience into wild abstractions, destroys
virtuous sentiments by dissecting them, and holds up the earnest voice
of religion to mockery and scorn. He who has gone so far (a distinction
by no means enviable) as to quicken his understanding at the expense of
his soul--to him the holiest things are no longer holy; to him God and
man are alike indifferent, and both worlds are as nothing. Of such a
monster I have endeavored to sketch a striking and lifelike portrait,
to hold up to abhorrence all the machinery of his scheme of vice, and to
test its strength by contrasting it with truth. How far my narrative is
successful in accomplishing these objects the reader is left to judge.
My conviction is that I have painted nature to the life.

Next to this man (Francis) stands another who would perhaps puzzle not
a few of my readers. A mind for which the greatest crimes have only