What People Write For

1895

Mr. Froude, in one of our earliest talks, said:

"And why do you want to meddle with biography? Why can't you be content to write three volume novels?"

"I have no invention," said I.

"Then I suppose you can't write that sort of 'rot' out of which Rider Haggard and such men make their thousands?"

"I am not clever enough for that," I replied.

"That answer is disingenuous," he said. "Well," said I, "I don't want to write those books."

"That's better," said Froude and turned away. But afterward he renewed the subject and said: "I am glad you don't come to me saying that you think you have a mission of any kind, or want to remove a veil from the eyes of mistaken humanity on any subject, or to do anything grand or philanthropical, or that sort of idiocy. I have heard so much of that kind of thing."

"Oh, dear, no!" I said. "I want to put a little money in my pocket. I have no other motive, and as a publisher asked for the book I took the necessary steps. Nothing more."

"That's well," said Froude. — Mrs. Ireland in Contemporary Review.