ce, worth while." Here I must
interject that such a statement is somewhat sweeping. In fact, it
sweeps a whole lot of fine and legitimate ambitions straight into the
rubbish heap of the Not-worth-while. I think the writer would wish to
modify it. She continues: "And when the day comes in which I have not
done some serious reading, however small the measure, or some writing
... or I have been too sad or dull to notice the brightness of colour
of the sun, of grass and flowers, of the sea, or the moonlight on the
water, I think the day ill-spent. So I must think the _incentive_ to
do a little each day beyond the ordinary towards the real culture of
the mind, is the beginning of the cure of mental inefficiency." This
is very ingenious and good. Further: "The day comes when the mental
habit has become a part of our life, and we value mental work for the
work's sake." But I am not sure about that. For myself, I have never
valued work for its own sake, and I never shall. And I only value such
mental work for the more full and more intense consciousness of being
alive which it gives me.

Miss H. D.'s remedies are vague. As to lack of will-power, "the first
step is to realize your weakness; the next step is to have ordinary
shame that you are defective." I doubt, I gravely doubt, if these
steps would lead to anything definite. Nor is this very helpful: "I
would advise reading, observing, writing. I would advise the use of
every sense and every faculty by which we at last learn the sacredness
of life." This is begging the question. If people, by merely wishing
to do so, could regularly and seriously read, observe, write, and use
every faculty and sense, there would be very little mental
inefficiency. I see that I shall be driven to construct a programme
out of my own bitter and ridiculous experiences.

THE CURE

"But tasks in hours of insight willed
Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled."

The above lines from Matthew Arnold are quoted by one of my very
numerous correspondents to support a certain optimism in this matter
of a systematic attempt to improve the mind. They form part of a
beautiful and inspiring poem, but I gravely fear that they run counter
to the vast mass of earthly experience. More often than not I have
found that a task willed in some hour of insight can _not_ be
fulfilled through hours of gloom. No, no, and no! To will is easy: it
needs but the momentary bright contagion of a stronger spirit th