k at himself, his work, his puppets and
their fortunes has power, will never be a novelist. The novelist must
"make believe very much"; he must be in earnest with his characters. But
how to be in earnest, how to keep the note of disbelief and derision "out
of the memorial"? Ah, there is the difficulty, but it is a difficulty of
which many authors appear to be insensible. Perhaps they suffer from no
such temptations.

CHAPTER XV: THE SUPERNATURAL IN FICTION

It is a truism that the supernatural in fiction should, as a general
rule, be left in the vague. In the creepiest tale I ever read, the
horror lay in this--_there was no ghost_! You may describe a ghost with
all the most hideous features that fancy can suggest--saucer eyes, red
staring hair, a forked tail, and what you please--but the reader only
laughs. It is wiser to make as if you were going to describe the
spectre, and then break off, exclaiming, "But no! No pen can describe,
no memory, thank Heaven, can recall, the horror of that hour!" So
writers, as a rule, prefer to leave their terror (usually styled "The
Thing") entirely in the dark, and to the frightened fancy of the student.
Thus, on the whole, the treatment of the supernaturally terrible in
fiction is achieved in two ways, either by actual description, or by
adroit suggestion, the author saying, like cabmen, "I leave it to
yourself, sir." There are dangers in both methods; the description, if
attempted, is usually overdone and incredible: the suggestion is apt to
prepare us too anxiously for something that never becomes real, and to
leave us disappointed.

Examples of both methods may be selected from poetry and prose. The
examples in verse are rare enough; the first and best that occurs in the
way of suggestion is, of course, the mysterious lady in "Christabel."

"She was most beautiful to see,
Like a lady of a far countree."

Who was she? What did she want? Whence did she come? What was the
horror she revealed to the night in the bower of Christabel?

"Then drawing in her breath aloud
Like one that shuddered, she unbound
The cincture from beneath her breast.
Her silken robe and inner vest
Dropt to her feet, and full in view
Behold her bosom and half her side--
A sight to dream of, not to tell!
O shield her! shield sweet Christabel!"

And then what do her words mean?

"Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow,
This mark of my sh