ully say that it is not
gloomy, and equally that it is not uproarious. I can boast of no deep
philosophy, for I feel, like Dr. Johnson's simple friend Edwards, that
"I have tried, too, in my time, to be a philosopher, but--I don't know
how--cheerfulness was always breaking in." Neither is it the point of
view of a profound and erudite student, with a deep belief in the
efficacy of useless knowledge. Neither am I a humorist, for I have
loved beauty better than laughter; nor a sentimentalist, for I have
abhorred a weak dalliance with personal emotions. It is hard, then, to
say what I am; but it is my hope that this may emerge. My desire is but
to converse with my readers, to speak as in a comfortable tete-a-tete,
of experience, and hope, and patience. I have no wish to disguise the
hard and ugly things of life; they are there, whether one disguises
them or not; but I think that unless one is a professed psychologist or
statistician, one gets little good by dwelling upon them. I have always
believed that it is better to stimulate than to correct, to fortify
rather than to punish, to help rather than to blame. If there is one
attitude that I fear and hate more than another it is the attitude of
the cynic. I believe with all my soul in romance: that is, in a certain
high-hearted, eager dealing with life. I think that one ought to expect
to find things beautiful and people interesting, not to take delight in
detecting meannesses and failures. And there is yet another class of
temperament for which I have a deep detestation. I mean the assured,
the positive, the Pharisaical temper, that believes itself to be
impregnably in the right and its opponents indubitably in the wrong;
the people who deal in axioms and certainties, who think that
compromise is weak and originality vulgar. I detest authority in every
form; I am a sincere republican. In literature, in art, in life, I
think that the only conclusions worth coming to are one's own
conclusions. If they march with the verdict of the connoisseurs, so
much the better for the connoisseurs; if they do not so march, so much
the better for oneself. Every one cannot admire and love everything;
but let a man look at things fairly and without prejudice, and make his
own selection, holding to it firmly, but not endeavouring to impose his
taste upon others; defending, if needs be, his preferences, but making
no claim to authority.

The time of my life that I consider to have been wasted,