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  • either a watch or a clock; and an old man who was supposed
  • either of comedy or tragedy, unless the reader can sympathise
  • work, perhaps after very much good work, have distressed
  • he knew. The result has been that very much more than amusement
  • church bell by guess. The arrival of our boats was a rare
  • great desire to be pungent. It is impossible not to feel
  • writer naturally feeling that the writing of novels is
  • let the speeches be short. No character should utter much
  • might have noticed the reduced numbers of his following.
  • I did intend when I meditated that history of English fiction
  • heart and draw his tears, and he has, so far, done his
  • myself compelled to read three times before I have been
  • with stating that they were poor natives of the place,
  • the tone of the voice, and the colour of the hair, every
  • novelists, a great division is made. There are sensational
  • may be sure that it will grow upon his readers. I see the
  • and gunpowder. The latter article was required for a very
  • fault of episodes is so common as in the dialogue. It is
  • either of comedy or tragedy, unless the reader can sympathise
  • and without difficulty. I may tell you of a woman murdered
  • a short time we were surrounded by a large group of the
  • the attention of the reader, and always do so disagreeably.
  • but towards the end of his career — he failed in his
  • be made very disagreeable, the conscientious reader will
  • or that other infinitely more beautiful flower who wandered
  • of eyes and ears that we mean. The things around cease
  • fault of episodes is so common as in the dialogue. It is
  • at the same time realistic and sensational. A good novel
  • he often spent much time with the white foreman of the
  • fail in either, there is a failure in art. Let those readers
  • become familiar with what is harmonious in prose. But in
  • a long dialogue on extraneous matter reaches his mind,
  • tables, and lifting Helen Cumberly, carried her half-way
  • The life of Lady Castlewood, of whom I have spoken, is
  • is no real life in Smike. His misery, his idiotcy, his
  • will at once discover the fault. And so will the writer
  • stars and waiting. He had lain thus and there many nights
  • our turn to be silent on the subject. “Naturam expellas
  • estimation, very much below the humour of Thackeray, but
  • truth of character, human truth as to men and women. If
  • in all the finer points of big game hunting. Of an evening
  • Bulwer, or Lord Lytton — but I think that he is still
  • No doubt the cause for that fear which did exist as to
  • funeral — all testify to his popularity. Since the last
  • that she might honestly give him the answer that he demanded.
  • I shall find it more difficult to express my meaning. It
  • not been sufficiently at work when the tale has been commenced,
  • he carry his burden to the end? How shall he cover his
  • numbers. I never saw anything more obliging and humble
  • either Felix Holt, Middlemarch, or Daniel Deronda. I know
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