steadfastly, hoping eagerly. Nor have they mistaken the value of the
reward. Success in Literature is, in truth, the blue ribbon of
nobility.

There is another aspect presented by Literature. It has become a
profession; to many a serious and elevating profession; to many more a
mere trade, having miserable trade-aims and trade-tricks. As in every
other profession, the ranks are thronged with incompetent aspirants,
without seriousness of aim, without the faculties demanded by their
work. They are led to waste powers which in other directions might have
done honest service, because they have failed to discriminate between
aspiration and inspiration, between the desire for greatness and the
consciousness of power. Still lower in the ranks are those who follow
Literature simply because they see no other opening for their
incompetence; just as forlorn widows and ignorant old maids thrown
suddenly on their own resources open a school--no other means of
livelihood seeming to be within their reach. Lowest of all are those
whose esurient vanity, acting on a frivolous levity of mind, urges them
to make Literature a plaything for display. To write for a livelihood,
even on a complete misapprehension of our powers, is at least a
respectable impulse. To play at Literature is altogether inexcusable:
the motive is vanity, the object notoriety, the end contempt.

I propose to treat of the Principles of Success in Literature, in the
belief that if a clear recognition of the principles which underlie all
successful writing could once be gained, it would be no inconsiderable
help to many a young and thoughtful mind. Is it necessary to guard
against a misconception of my object, and to explain that I hope to
furnish nothing more than help and encouragement? There is help to be
gained from a clear understanding of the conditions of success; and