And I am not. Why am I
not? Have I got to be learned, to undertake a vast course of study, in
order to be perfectly mad about Wordsworth's _Prelude_? Or am I born
without the faculty of pure taste in literature, despite my vague
longings? I do wish I could smack my lips over Wordsworth's _Prelude_
as I did over that splendid story by H.G. Wells, _The Country of the
Blind_, in the _Strand Magazine_!".... Yes, I am convinced that in
your dissatisfied, your diviner moments, you address yourself in these
terms. I am convinced that I have diagnosed your symptoms.
Now the enterprise of forming one's literary taste is an agreeable
one; if it is not agreeable it cannot succeed. But this does not imply
that it is an easy or a brief one. The enterprise of beating Colonel
Bogey at golf is an agreeable one, but it means honest and regular
work. A fact to be borne in mind always! You are certainly not
going to realise your ambition--and so great, so influential an
ambition!--by spasmodic and half-hearted effort. You must begin by
making up your mind adequately. You must rise to the height of the
affair. You must approach a grand undertaking in the grand manner. You
ought to mark the day in the calendar as a solemnity. Human nature is
weak, and has need of tricky aids, even in the pursuit of happiness.
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