It Is Almost Impossible To Remember How

This Is Woman's Great Benevolence, That She Will Become A Martyr For Beauty, So That The World May Have Pleasure.

The Lovers Of Beauty Must Unite In A League, And Carry Out Some Great Propagandist Work Through The Country. They Must Demand The Extermination Of The Bulldog And The Dismantling Of The Cheap Villa, Both Of Which Are Responsible For A Deal Of Our Contentment Amid Ugliness.

Jane Austen Has Often Been Praised As A Natural Historian. She Is A Naturalist Among Tame Animals. She Does Not Study Men (as Dostoevsky Does) In His Wild State Before He Has Been Domesticated. Her Men And Women Are Essentially Men And Women Of The Fireside.

On The Whole, However, The Critic Is Far Less Of A Professional Faultfinder Than Is Sometimes Imagined. He Is First Of All A Virtue-finder, A Singer Of Praise. He Is Not Concerned With Getting Rid Of Dross Except In So Far As It Hides The Gold. In Other Words, The Destructive Side Of Criticism Is Purely A Subsidiary Affair. None Of The Best Critics Have Been Men Of Destructive Minds. They Are Like Gardeners Whose Business Is More With The Flowers Than With The Weeds.

Keats, It Must Be Remembered, Was A Sensualist. His Poems ... Reveal Him As A Man Not Altogether Free From The Vulgarities Of Sensualism, As Well As One Who Was Able To Transmute It Into Perfect Literature.