Chapter I

THE AIM

At the beginning a misconception must be removed from the path.
Many people, if not most, look on literary taste as an elegant accomplishment,
by acquiring which they will complete themselves, and make themselves
finally fit as members of a correct society. They are secretly ashamed
of their ignorance of literature, in the same way as they would be
ashamed of their ignorance of etiquette at a high entertainment,
or of their inability to ride a horse if suddenly called upon
to do so. There are certain things that a man ought to know,
or to know about, and literature is one of them: such is their idea.
They have learnt to dress themselves with propriety,
and to behave with propriety on all occasions; they are fairly "up"
in the questions of the day; by industry and enterprise
they are succeeding in their vocations; it behoves them, then,
not to forget that an acquaintance with literature is an indispensable part
of a self-respecting man's personal baggage. Painting doesn't matter;
music doesn't matter very much. But "everyone is supposed to know"
about literature. Then, literature is such a charming distraction!
Literary taste thus serves two purposes: as a certificate of correct culture
and as a private pastime. A young professor of mathematics,
immense at mathematics and games, dangerous at chess, capable of Haydn
on the violin, once said to me, after listening to some chat on books,
"Yes, I must take up literature." As though saying:
"I was rather forgetting literature. However, I've polished off
all these other things. I'll have a shy at literature now."