He turned abruptly, and skirted the hill on his way to the gardens of the Villa Borghese, where he found shade and seclusion in the early afternoon. The carriages of fashionable Rome had not yet begun to drive in at the gate. The cypress avenues, the groves of immemorial ilex, the verdant lawns where the fountains leapt sunward, were peopled only by creatures of fable, fixed in marble, faun and dryad, hero and god. Martin Disney plunged into the shadow of one of those funereal avenues, and鈥攚hile the sun blazed in almost tropical splendour upon the open lawn in the far distance鈥攈e walked as it were in the deep of night, a night whose gloom harmonized with that darker night in his despairing heart. He left the room without more words, and Lady Keeling settled another cushion against what must be called the small of her back. A slight smile appeared on Keeling鈥檚 grim face. He could not resist replying to this. In writing a novel the author soon becomes aware that a burden of many pages is before him. Circumstances require that he should cover a certain and generally not a very confined space. Short novels are not popular with readers generally. Critics often complain of the ordinary length of novels 鈥?of the three volumes to which they are subjected; but few novels which have attained great success in England have been told in fewer pages. The novel-writer who sticks to novel-writing as his profession will certainly find that this burden of length is incumbent on him. How shall he carry his burden to the end? How shall he cover his space? Many great artists have by their practice opposed the doctrine which I now propose to preach 鈥?but they have succeeded I think in spite of their fault and by dint of their greatness. There should be no episodes in a novel. Every sentence, every word, through all those pages, should tend to the telling of the story. Such episodes distract the attention of the reader, and always do so disagreeably. Who has not felt this to be the case even with The Curious Impertinent and with the History of the Man of the Hill. And if it be so with Cervantes and Fielding, who can hope to succeed? Though the novel which you have to write must be long, let it be all one. And this exclusion of episodes should be carried down into the smallest details. Every sentence and every word used should tend to the telling of the story. 鈥淏ut,鈥?the young novelist will say, 鈥渨ith so many pages before me to be filled, how shall I succeed if I thus confine myself 鈥?how am I to know beforehand what space this story of mine will require? There must be the three volumes, or the certain number of magazine pages which I have contracted to supply. If I may not be discursive should occasion require, how shall I complete my task? The painter suits the size of his canvas to his subject, and must I in my art stretch my subject to my canas?鈥?This undoubtedly must be done by the novelist; and if he will learn his business, may be done without injury to his effect. He may not paint different pictures on the same canvas, which he will do if he allow himself to wander away to matters outside his own story; but by studying proportion in his work, he may teach himself so to tell his story that it shall naturally fall into the required length. Though his story should be all one, yet it may have many parts. Though the plot itself may require but few characters, it may be so enlarged as to find its full development in many. There may be subsidiary plots, which shall all tend to the elucidation of the main story, and which will take their places as part of one and the same work 鈥?as there may be many figures on a canvas which shall not to the spectator seem to form themselves into separate pictures. 鈥業 am sure you did not mean an impertinence, Miss Propert,鈥?he added, 鈥榖ut I think you have committed one.鈥? 色偷偷亚洲男人的天堂_男人到天堂a在线 "He must be a wonderful man." "I'll do my best." The vigour necessary to prosecute two professions at the same time is not given to every one, and it was only lately that I had found the vigour necessary for one. There must be early hours, and I had not as yet learned to love early hours. I was still, indeed, a young man; but hardly young enough to trust myself to find the power to alter the habits of my life. And I had heard of the difficulties of publishing 鈥?a subject of which I shall have to say much should I ever bring this memoir to a close. I had dealt already with publishers on my mother鈥檚 behalf, and knew that many a tyro who could fill a manuscript lacked the power to put his matter before the public 鈥?and I knew, too, that when the matter was printed, how little had then been done towards the winning of the battle! I had already learned that many a book 鈥?many a good book 鈥?