The second preliminary is to surround yourself with books,
to create for yourself a bookish atmosphere. The merely physical side
of books is important--more important than it may seem to the inexperienced.
Theoretically (save for works of reference), a student has need for
but one book at a time. Theoretically, an amateur of literature
might develop his taste by expending sixpence a week, or a penny a day,
in one sixpenny edition of a classic after another sixpenny edition
of a classic, and he might store his library in a hat-box or a biscuit-tin.
But in practice he would have to be a monster of resolution to succeed
in such conditions. The eye must be flattered; the hand must be flattered;
the sense of owning must be flattered. Sacrifices must be made
for the acquisition of literature. That which has cost a sacrifice
is always endeared. A detailed scheme of buying books will come later,
in the light of further knowledge. For the present, buy--buy whatever
has received the *imprimatur* of critical authority. Buy without any
immediate reference to what you will read. Buy! Surround yourself
with volumes, as handsome as you can afford. And for reading,
all that I will now particularly enjoin is a general and inclusive tasting,
in order to attain a sort of familiarity with the look
of "literature in all its branches." A turning over of the pages
of a volume of Chambers's *Cyclopædia of English Literature*,
the third for preference, may be suggested as an admirable and
a diverting exercise. You might mark the authors that flash
an appeal to you.



Chapter III