tion
even of fantastic types. He is only told never to pretend to see what
he has not seen. He is urged to follow Imagination in her most erratic
course, though like a will-o'-wisp she lead over marsh and fen away
from the haunts of mortals; but not to pretend that he is following a
will-o'-wisp when his vagrant fancy never was allured by one. It is
idle to paint fairies and goblins unless you have a genuine vision of
them which forces you to paint them. They are poetical objects, but
only to poetic minds. "Be a plain photographer if you possibly can,"
says Ruskin, "if Nature meant you for anything else she will force you
to it; but never try to be a prophet; go on quietly with your hard camp
work, and the spirit will come to you as it did to Eldad and Medad if
you are appointed to it." Yes: if you are appointed to it; if your
faculties are such that this high success is possible, it will come,
provided the faculties are employed with sincerity. Otherwise it cannot
come. No insincere effort can secure it.

If the advice I give to reject every insincerity in writing seem cruel,
because it robs the writer of so many of his effects---if it seem
disheartening to earnestly warn a man not to TRY to be eloquent, but
only to BE eloquent when his thoughts move with an impassioned
LARGO--if throwing a writer back upon his naked faculty seem especially
distasteful to those who have a painful misgiving that their faculty is
small, and that the uttermost of their own power would be far from
impressive, my answer is that I have no hope of dissuading feeble
writers from the practice of insincerity, but as under no circumstances
can they become good writers and achieve success, my analysis has no
reference to them, my advice has no aim at them. It is to the young and
strong, to the ambitious and the earnest, that my words are addressed.
It is to wipe the film from their eyes, and make them see, as they will
see directly the truth is placed before them, how easily we are all
seduced into greater or less insincerity of thought, of feeling, and of
style, either by reliance on other writers, from whom we catch the
trick of thought and turn of phrase, or from some preconceived view of
what the public will prefer. It is to the young and strong I say: Watch
vigilantly every phrase you write, and assure yourself that it
expresses what you mean; watch vigilantly every thought you express,
and assure yourself that it is yours, not another's; you