ABSTRACT
The announcement of philosopher Fourier, that "Attractions are proportioned to destinies", albeit false in many, is, nevertheless, true in some respects. Thus, in literature, every longing and every susceptibility of the soul, and, in fact, every mental want, creates for itself a satisfaction and a supply. That this species of composition is a normal and legitimate development of the mind, mankind have endorsed by the fact of every nation's having given birth to productions of this kind, and by the extreme avidity with which fabulous and romantic narratives have in all times been received. Nothing is more easy or gratuitous than the vituperative condemnation and contempt that have so often been lavished on novels and novel writing. Novels are judged as Art products, and as little sympathy is felt with the bizarreries that are heaped together, for the gratification of very weak brains, as for the fantastic adornings of a Dutch house, or the architectural proportions of a Chinese pagoda.
