that recommended men for their soul's good to do each day two
things they disliked: it was a wise man, and it is a precept
that I have followed scrupulously; for every day I have got up
and I have gone to bed. But there is in my nature a strain of
asceticism, and I have subjected my flesh each week to a more
severe mortification. I have never failed to read the Literary
Supplement of . It is a salutary discipline to
consider the vast number of books that are written, the fair
hopes with which their authors see them published, and the
fate which awaits them. What chance is there that any book
will make its way among that multitude? And the successful
books are but the successes of a season. Heaven knows what
pains the author has been at, what bitter experiences he has
endured and what heartache suffered, to give some chance
reader a few hours' relaxation or to while away the tedium of
a journey. And if I may judge from the reviews, many of these
books are well and carefully written; much thought has gone to
their composition; to some even has been given the anxious
labour of a lifetime. The moral I draw is that the writer
should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in
release from the burden of his thought; and, indifferent to aught
else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.

Now the war has come, bringing with it a new attitude.
Youth has turned to gods we of an earlier day knew not, and it
is possible to see already the direction in which those who come
after us will move. The younger generation, conscious of
strength and tumultuous, have done with knocking at the door;
they have burst in and seated themselves in our seats.
The air is noisy with their shouts. Of their elders some, by