my studies at the Bar。 Hither we came accordingly a little while before the birth of my eldest daughter。 She was named Angela after the heroine of my novel； which shows that at this time it must either have been written or well advanced。
There appear to be three drafts of this work； the first of which （inplete） is named “Angela；” after the heroine； the second； five hundred and fifty…four closely written foolscap sheets long（！）； estimated； I observe； upon the title…page to print into about a thousand pages； called “There Remaih a Rest”； and the third； bound MS。 （unnamed）； four hundred and niy…three foolscap sheets。 The history of them is briefly as follows。 With pain and labour I wrote the work — five hundred and fifty…four foolscap sheets do take some labour in the actual matter of calligraphy； without considering the mental effort。 Then I sent the result to sundry publishers — who they were I entirely forget。 Evidently； however； Smith and Elder must have been one of them； as is shown by the allusion to James Payn in a letter from the late Mr。 Cordy Jeaffreson； which I shall presently quote。
These publishers； or their readers； had no great opinion of “Angela” or “There Remaih a Rest；” by whichever title it was then called。 After these rebuffs most people would have put that mighty mass of manuscript into the fire or an upstairs cupboard。 But I must have been a persistent young man thirty years or so ago； and I did not take this course。 On the contrary； I consulted Mr。 Trubner； with whom I had bee personally acquainted since the publication of “Cetewayo and his White Neighbours。” Indeed he and I struck up some kind of a friendship； as is shown by the fact that he gave me his photograph in a little olive…wood frame； which photograph has stood on a shelf in my room from that day to this。 It is a clever old face which is pictured there； and he was a clever old man。 He used to tell me anecdotes in his queer； half…German talk about the literary celebrities of bygone days； and I remember that his description of George Eliot was extremely epigrammatic and amusing。 This； however； I will not repeat。 He was good enough to take some interest in the story； and to suggest that it should be sent to the late Mr。 Cordy Jeaffreson for his opinion。 This was done； and on April 27； 1883； Jeaffreson sent me his opinion； which is so thorough and able that I erely omitting his detailed criticism of the work。
24 Carlton Road； Maida Vale； N。W。：
April 27； 1883。
Dear Sir； — I have read your story deliberately and read it with considerable interest； which would of course have been greater had I read it in type。
Payn was not wrong。 Your opening chapters have a superabundance of action； and several highly dramatic positions； but they lack dramatic interest； i。e。 the interest that es from an exhibition of the influence of character upon character。 Novels being what they are just now； it is small praise to say that Angela’s love…story is better than two…thirds of the stories that are published。 I could say much more in its favour。 Still I urge you not to publish it in its present rude form。 Indeed； the story has caused me to take so much interest in its writer that I could almost entreat you not to publish it。
I take it you are a young man。 You are certainly a novice in literature： and like most beginners in the really difficult art of novel…writing you have plied your pen under the notion that novels are dashed off。 Inferior novels are so written； but you have the making of a good novelist in you； if you are seriously bent on being one。 It would therefore be ill for you in several ways to make your debut with a tale that would do you injustice。 I don’t counsel you to try again with new materials。 I advise you to make your present essay； what it might be made； a work of art and a really good performance。
You have written it with your left hand without strenuous pains； you must rewrite it with your right hand； throwing all your force into it。 If you produce it in its present crude state you will do so only to regret in a few weeks you did not burn it。 If you rewrite it slowly with your right hand — suppressing much； expanding much； making every chapter a picture by itself； and polishing up every sentence so that each page bears testimony to the power of its producer — the story will be the beginning of such a literary career as I conceive you to be desirous of running。 Get the better of the mon notion that novels may be dashed off — by remembering how often Lord Lytton rewrote “Pelham；” thinking over every part of it； now pressing and now expanding the narrative； before he ventured to give it to the world。 Go to the Charles Dickens rooms in the S。 Kensington Museum and observe the erasures； the insertions； the amendments of every paragraph of his writing 。 。 。 。
Here follows a long and able criticism of the story。
Having read your MS。 I have packed it and will do anything you like with it — with the exception of sending it to a publisher in its present state。 You will succeed in literary enterprise if it will be your ambition to do so。
Your story disposes me to think you have that ambition。 It also causes me to hope that I may make the author’s acquaintance。 If you call on me when you are in town I shall be delighted to ask your pardon for writing to you with such unmannerly frankness and self…sufficiency。
Believe me to be； my dear sir；
Yours very sincerely；
John Cordy Jeaffreson。
What an extraordinarily kind heart must have been that of Mr。 Jeaffreson！ He was a very busy man； producing as he did works of fiction and of biography； in addition to his antiquarian labours that involved the deciphering of thousands of old documents； by means of all which toil he earned a moderate ine。 Yet he found time on behalf of an individual totally unknown to him； or to anybody else in this country； to labour through several hundred not too legible sheets of manuscript； and to write a masterly criticism of their contents。 Moreover； for all this trouble he refused to accept any reward。 Certainly it has been my fortune to make acquaintance with much malice in the world； but on the other hand I have met with signal kindness at the hands of those engaged in literary pursuits； and of such kindnesses I can recall no more striking example than this act of Mr。 Jeaffreson； of whom I shall always entertain the most affectionate memory。
Well； I took his advice。 From a tiny note on the first page of the manuscript it would seem that I began to rewrite “Dawn” or “Angela；” as it was then called； on May 15； 1883； and finished the last of the four hundred and niy…three foolscap sheets on September 5th of the same year。 That is； in just under four months； in addition to my legal studies and other occupations and the time taken in attending in London to eat my dinners at Lincoln’s Inn； I wrote nearly two hundred thousand words。 Nowadays the average length of a novel may be put at seventy…five thousand words； or even less； though mine are longer。 But in the early eighties； when stories were brought out in three volumes and readers had more patience than at present； it was otherwise。 I toiled at that book morning； noon； and night； with the result that at length my eyesight gave out； and I was obliged to finish the writing of it in a darkened room。
Still I did finish it notwithstanding the pain in my eyes； and then went to London to see an oculist。 To my relief he told me I was not going blind as I feared； but that the trouble came from the brain which was overworked。 He ordered me plete rest and change； during which I was not to read anything。 So we went for a month to Switzerland； where we took lodgings。 The only occupation that I had there was to walk； or； when this was not feasible； like a child to throw a ball against the wall of the room and see how often I could catch it on the rebound。 However； the treatment proved effective。
The book being finished； or nearly finished； and the heroine； Angela； rescued from the untimely death to which she was consigned in the first version and happily married to her lover； once more I sought the assistance of Cordy Jeaffreson； who gave me a letter introducing me to Mr。 Arthur Blackett of the firm of Messrs。 Hurst and Blackett。 It runs：
Dear Blackett； — Some months since I read the MS。 of a novel of which the bearer of these presents； Mr。 Rider Haggard of Ditchingham House； Bungay； is looking for a publisher。 Mr。 Haggard having distinguished himself in another field of literature； I was not surprised to find his first essay in prose fiction a thing of no ordinary power。 It was a tale of character； pathos； incident； and new ground： so good that had it been less I should have advised him to publish it as it came to me。 The goodness of the story； however； made me urge him to rewrite it； so that every chapter should be in harmony with its best and strongest parts。 He has acted on my advice； and if the result of his renewed labour answers my anticipation； he has produced a work that will make your reader rub his hands and say “This will do。” 。 。 。
Messrs。 Hurst and Blackett wrote to me； and well do I remember the jubilation with which I read the letter：
We shall be very happy to undertake the publication of your novel on the following terms。 To produce the work at our own expense and risk。 To pay you the sum of 40 pounds on the sale of four hundred copies and 30 pounds on the sale of every hundred copies after。 The title “Angela” has been used before 。 。 。 。
Needless to say I accepted the offer with gratitude and promised to find another title。 Three days later the agreement arrived under which I sold the copyright to Messrs。 Hurst and Blackett for a period of one year only from the date of publication。 In their covering letter they informed me that they only proposed to print five hundred copies in the three…volume form； leaving me at liberty to make any arrangements I liked for a cheap edition； if one should be demanded。
About this time； namely just after he had read the MS。 of “Angela；” I received the following interesting but undated letter from Mr。 Jeaffreson：
Dear Sir； — Can’t you arrange to dine with us at seven o’clock on the 10th of next month？ We could talk all round the literary question over a cigar in my