LECTURE II.

THE PRACTICE OF WRITING.

Wednesday, February 12


We found, Gentlemen, towards the close of our first lecture, that the
argument had drawn us, as by a double chain, up to the edge of a bold
leap, over which I deferred asking you to take the plunge with me. Yet
the plunge must be taken, and to-day I see nothing for it but to harden
our hearts.

Well, then, I propose to you that, English Literature being (as we
agreed) an Art, with a living and therefore improvable language for its
medium or vehicle, a part--and no small part--of our business is _to
practise it._ Yes, I seriously propose to you that here in Cambridge we
_practise writing_: that we practise it not only for our own improvement,
but to make, or at least try to make, appropriate, perspicuous, accurate,
persuasive writing a recognisable hall-mark of anything turned out by our
English School. By all means let us study the great writers of the past
for their own sakes; but let us study them for our guidance; that we, in
our turn, having (it is to be hoped) something to say in our span of
time, say it worthily, not dwindling out the large utterance of
Shakespeare or of Burke. Portraits of other great ones look down on you
in your college halls: but while you are young and sit at the brief
feast, what avails their serene gaze if it do not lift up your hearts and