or hint at nothing at all that is not universally believed and
received by everybody everywhere in this realm of Britain. But
literature, as Thomas Hardy says with truth, is mainly the
expression of souls in revolt. Hence the antagonism between
literature and journalism.

Why, then, publish one's novels serially at all? Why not appeal at
once to the outside public, which has few such prejudices? Why not
deliver one's message direct to those who are ready to consider it
or at least to hear it? Because, unfortunately, the serial rights
of a novel at the present day are three times as valuable, in money
worth, as the final book rights. A man who elects to publish
direct, instead of running his story through the columns of a
newspaper, is forfeiting, in other words, three-quarters of his
income. This loss the prophet who cares for his mission could
cheerfully endure, of course, if only the diminished income were
enough for him to live upon. But in order to write, he must first
eat. In my own case, for example, up till the time when I
published The Woman who Did, I could never live on the proceeds of
direct publication; nor could I even secure a publisher who would
consent to aid me in introducing to the world what I thought most
important for it. Having now found such a publisher--having
secured my mountain--I am prepared to go on delivering my message
from its top, as long as the world will consent to hear it. I will
willingly forgo the serial value of my novels, and forfeit
three-quarters of the amount I might otherwise earn, for the sake
of uttering the truth that is in me, boldly and openly, to a
perverse generation.

For this reason, and in order to mark the distinction between these