Knowing this, and seeing that Self was the stumbling-block with most
of my correspondents, I was anxious to write another book at once,
also in the guise of a romance, to serve as a little lamp of love
whereby my readers might haply discover the real character of the
obstacle which blocked their way to an intelligent Soul-advancement.
But the publisher I had at the time (the late Mr. George Bentley)
assured me that if I wrote another 'spiritualistic' book, I should
lose the public hearing I had just gained. I do not know why he had
formed this opinion, but as he was a kindly personal friend, and
took a keen interest in my career, never handing any manuscript of
mine over to his 'reader,' but always reading it himself, I felt it
incumbent upon me, as a young beginner, to accept the advice which I
knew could only be given with the very best intentions towards me.
To please him, therefore, and to please the particular public to
which he had introduced me, I wrote something entirely different,--a
melodramatic tale entitled: "Vendetta: The Story of One Forgotten."
The book made a certain stir, and Mr. Bentley next begged me to try
'a love-story, pur et simple' (I quote from his own letter). The
result was my novel of "Thelma," which achieved a great popular
success and still remains a favourite work with a large majority of
readers. I then considered myself free to move once more upon the
lines which my study of psychic forces had convinced me were of pre-
eminent importance. And moved by a strong conviction that men and
women are hindered from attaining their full heritage of life by the
obstinate interposition of their merely material Selves, I wrote
"Ardath: The Story of a Dead Self." The plan of this book was
partially suggested by the following passages from the Second
Apocryphal Book of Esdras:--

"Go into a field of flowers where no house is builded. And pray unto