A man's course in life does not always represent simple obedience to the
counsels of perfection implied in an accepted creed of conduct, but is
modified by his own nature. He may therefore quite fail to secure from his
beliefs that which they produce in more assimilative natures. Age softens
some hard characters, but in John Wynne the early development of senile
dementia deprived him of this chance. I drew a peculiar and happily a rare
type of man who might have illustrated failure to get the best out of any
creed.

The course of this great revolutionary struggle made or marred many men,
and the way in which such a time affects character affords to the novel of
history its most interesting material.

Erroneous statements in regard to the time and place of Friends' Meetings
have been pointed out. As concerns these and the like, I may here state
that the manuscript of my novel was read with care by a gentleman who was a
birthright member of the Society and both by age and knowledge competent to
speak. He remarked upon some of my technical errors in regard to the
meetings and discipline of Friends, but advised against change and said
that it was traditionally well known that at the time of the Revolution
there was much confusion in their assemblies and great bitterness of
feeling when so many like Wetherill chose to revolt against the doctrine of
absolute obedience to what, whether rightfully or not, they regarded as
oppression. Needless to say that I meant no more than to delineate a great
spiritual conflict in a very interesting body of men who, professing
neutrality, were, if we may trust Washington, anything but neutral.

The amount of accuracy to be allowed in historic fiction aroused fresh
interest when Hugh Wynne first appeared. In romances like Quentin Durward
and Ivanhoe the question need not be considered. What may annoy the