"That's nice of you." 一分赛车计划技巧 "That's nice of you." 鈥淢Y DEAR MR. TROLLOPE 鈥?Smith & Elder have sent you their proposals; and the business part done, let me come to the pleasure, and say how very glad indeed I shall be to have you as a co-operator in our new magazine. And looking over the annexed programme, you will see whether you can鈥檛 help us in many other ways besides tale-telling. Whatever a man knows about life and its doings, that let us hear about. You must have tossed a good deal about the world, and have countless sketches in your memory and your portfolio. Please to think if you can furbish up any of these besides a novel. When events occur, and you have a good lively tale, bear us in mind. One of our chief objects in this magazine is the getting out of novel spinning, and back into the world. Don鈥檛 understand me to disparage our craft, especially YOUR wares. I often say I am like the pastrycook, and don鈥檛 care for tarts, but prefer bread and cheese; but the public love the tarts (luckily for us), and we must bake and sell them. There was quite an excitement in my family one evening when Paterfamilias (who goes to sleep on a novel almost always when he tries it after dinner) came up-stairs into the drawing-room wide awake and calling for the second volume of The Three Clerks. I hope the Cornhill Magazine will have as pleasant a story. And the Chapmans, if they are the honest men I take them to be, I鈥檝e no doubt have told you with what sincere liking your works have been read by yours very faithfully, 鈥楬鈥檓! I wonder if you鈥檇 have thought that if you had been the purchaser.鈥? 鈥淎nd how so?鈥?cried I. "It's about Miss Miriam Culbreth." 鈥楤ut poor parson鈥檚 going to be lonely again, isn鈥檛 he?鈥?he went on. 鈥楧idn鈥檛 ickle bird tell him that Helper was going to spread wings and fly away to Brighton for a fortnight? He mustn鈥檛 be selfish, mustn鈥檛 poor parson, but only be glad to think of Helper sitting in the sun, and drinking in life and health again.鈥? The writer of stories must please, or he will be nothing. And he must teach whether he wish to teach or no. How shall he teach lessons of virtue and at the same time make himself a delight to his readers? That sermons are not in themselves often thought to be agreeable we all know. Nor are disquisitions on moral philosophy supposed to be pleasant reading for our idle hours. But the novelist, if he have a conscience, must preach his sermons with the same purpose as the clergyman, and must have his own system of ethics. If he can do this efficiently, if he can make virtue alluring and vice ugly, while he charms his readers instead of wearying them, then I think Mr. Carlyle need not call him distressed, nor talk of that long ear of fiction, nor question whether he be or not the most foolish of existing mortals. "That's nice of you."