Moreover, I am afraid it would spoil you, should you happen to succeed.
Have you forgotten your old friend Angelina Hobbs? One article ruined
her for life. Until that poem got into print and was favorably noticed,
she was as sensible as ordinary girls, and never imagined herself a
genius. Since then, there is not an 'ism' in America that she has not
taken up and run into the ground; I have met her in every stage, from
the coat and pantaloons of the Bloomer ten years ago to the hoopless old
maid I saw yesterday going into Dodworth's Hall with the last spiritual
paper and a spirit photograph in her hand. Not a literary man or woman
do I know, who has not some crotchet in his or her brain, and who does
not in some way violate the harmonies of life at least once an hour. Be
content as you are: be satisfied to live without seeing yourself in
THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY, or any other monthly under the sun!'
'John,' I said, 'I am surprised, I am astonished at the view you take of
the case. I don't desire that publishers should be tormented into their
graves; and if they are all as fat and rosy as the two we met the other
day, I think you can dismiss all fears on that score. Moreover, I
believe the world to be better for every book that is written, however
insignificant it may be. The days of the corsairs and giaours, romantic
robbers, and devout murderers, are over: our young ladies and our
servant girls see no fascination in the pages of 'Fatherless Fanny,'
'The Foundling,' or 'The Mysteries of Slabtown.
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