第62部分(第1/7 页)

And　now；　with　many　apologies；　I　will　turn　to　mundane　things　again。　Before　I　do　so；　however；　as　I　dare　say　I　shall　allude　to　the　subject　no　more；　I　will　add　a　word　on　the　general　matter　of　the　writing　of　romances。　This；　I　gather；　from　remarks　that　have　been　made　to　me　and　many　letters　that　I　have　received；　is　supposed　to　be　a　very　easy　art；　if　indeed　it　is　worthy　to　be　classified　under　that　high　name。　As　a　matter　of　fact　it　is　difficult。　In　a　novel；　as　the　word　is　generally　understood；　the　author　may　discourse　upon　a　thousand　topics；　nothing；　or　at　any　rate　very　little；　is　barred　to　him。　He　may　burrow　in　the　obscene　depths　of　human　nature；　he　may　discuss　politics；　religion；　metaphysics；　socialism；　“love”　in　all　its　forms；　the　elemental　or　artificial　divisions　between　the　sexes　—　oh！　what　is　there　that　he　may　not　and　does　not　discuss？　Nothing　that　appears　in　the　columns　of　the　daily　papers；　nothing　that　is　within　the　range　of　the　human　intellect；　lies　beyond　his　legitimate；　or　illegitimate；　scope。

In　romance　all　this　is　different；　the　lines　between　which　he　must　move　are　by　parison　extremely　narrow：　as　I　remember；　Besant　put　it　admirably　when　answering　some　onslaught　on　myself　in　connection　with　“Montezuma’s　Daughter”：　“There　is　but　one　bag　of　tricks　in　romance。”

The　love　interest；　at　least　among　the　English…speaking　peoples；　must　be　limited　and　restrained　in　tone；　must　follow　the　accepted　lines　of　thought　and　what　is　defined　as　morality。　Indeed　it　may　even　be　omitted；　sometimes　with　advantage。　The　really　needful　things　are　adventure　—　how　impossible　it　matters　not　at　all；　provided　it　is　made　to　appear　possible　—　and　imagination；　together　with　a　clever　use　of　coincidence　and　an　ordered　development　of　the　plot；　which　should；　if　possible；　have　a　happy　endi