Ethical consequences are always worrying Hawthorne's
soul; but Poe did not know there were any ethics."[5]

The short story usually treats of the lighter and brighter side
of life. It is seldom in deadly earnest; it tends somewhat to
superficiality; and it prefers cleverness to profundity, in both
conception and treatment. Naturally, then, comedy rather than tragedy
is its usual sphere; and though the tale may end in gloom, it more
frequently suggests a possible tragedy in order to heighten the
effect of the happy denouement. For similar reasons the short story
avoids the didactic tone, either presenting its lesson in clever
disguise, or limiting its moral efforts to providing innocent
amusement for an idle hour.

In the strife between realism and romanticism the short story adopts
the middle course, taking advantage of the better phases of both, but
siding with neither; for every life is subject to both influences,
often at the same time, and the short story aspires to present life
as it is. "Without true realism and genuine romanticism--actuality
and ideals--good work was never done, nor did any writer ever rise to
be an author."[6] "No worthy work of fiction may properly be labelled
romantic, realistic or symbolic, since every great work of art
contains all these in some proportion. Love and fighting are not
necessarily romance; nor are soup-kitchens and divorce courts
necessarily realism.... Malice, futility and ugliness--the dreadful
monotony of existence--are not necessarily real life; nor the tales
of summer love and marriage ceremonies, successful fightings, or
sacrifice and chivalry necessarily romance."[7]

In its technique a short story demands the utmost care; it lacks the
bulk of the novel, which hides minor defects. It must have a definite
form, which shall be compact, and which shall have its parts properly
proportioned and related; and it must be wrought out in a workmanlike
manner. It requires extreme care from its conception to its completion,
when it must stand forth a perfect work of art; and yet it must reveal
no signs of the worker's tools, or of the pains by which it was
achieved.

From what has been said it is evident that the short story is
artificial, and to a considerable degree unnatural. It could hardly
be otherwise, for it takes out of our complex lives a single person
or a single incident and treats that as if it were complete in
itself. Such isolation is not known to nature: There a