“Think, Bingley! It is not only that Mrs.īennet’s family connections would diminish the status your family has worked so “She is not unworthy of you, but her family is,” Darcy repliedĬannot be separated from her family.” Bingley was not to know how he felt theįorce of that statement himself. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda” or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language." -Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, Chapter 5 “And what are you reading, Miss - ?” “Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “I am no novel–reader - I seldom look into novels - Do not imagine that I often read novels - It is really very well for a novel.” Such is the common cant.
There seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of slighting the performances which have only genius, wit, and taste to recommend them.
"Yes, novels for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel–writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding.
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