not a woman the arts could base as few hopes
on her as they do on men, but the most stupid woman is better ground
than the average man, because she is open, while he is smug. So it is no
wonder that among the millions of women who mess and muddle their way
through the conservatories and pigsties of literature, should be found
the true reading public, the women who are worth writing for, who read
the best English novels, who are in touch with French and Russian
literature, who reads plays, and even essays, ancient and modern. Hail
Mary, mother of mankind; but for these the arts must starve!

That fine public cannot carry us very far. They are not enough to keep
literature vigorous by giving it what it needs: a consciousness of
fellowship with many readers. If literature is to flourish (of which I
am not sure, though endure in some form it will), the general public
taste must be raised. I feel that taste can be raised and cultivated,
and many have felt that too. From the middle of the nineteenth century
onwards, and especially since 1870, an ascending effort has been made to
stimulate the taste of the rising artisan. Books like Lord Avebury's
_Pleasures of Life_, like _Sesame and Lilies_, collections such as the
_Hundred Best Books_ and the _Hundred Best Pictures_, have all been
attuned to that key. The only pity is that the selections, nearly all of
them excellent, were immeasurably above the heads of the public for
which they were meant. Two recent instances are worth analysing. One of
them is _A Library for Five Pounds_ by Sir William Robertson Nicoll,
(whom Mr Arnold Bennett delighteth to revile), the other _Literary Taste
and How to Form It_, by Mr Bennett himself. Now Sir William Robertson
Nicoll's book is much more sensible than the funereal lists available at
most polytechnics. The author does not pretend that one should read
Plato in one's bath; he seems to realise the state of mind of the
ordinary, fairly busy, fairly willing, fairly intelligent person. A sign
of it is that he selects only sixty-one works, and out of those allows
twenty-seven novels. Of the rest, most are readable, except _Pilgrim's
Progress_ and _The Origin of Species_, a touching couple. The list is by
far the best guide I have ever seen, but ... there is not a living
author in it. It is not a library, it is a necropolis. The novelists
that Sir William Robertson Nicoll recommends are Scott, Jane Austen,
Dickens, Thackeray, Charlotte Bronte, Ge