Then again, there is that vexed question of--the Public! I have often noticed, with a humility too deep for words, that all the great modern writers, or, I should say, all those who consider themselves the greatest, have a lofty contempt for the public. “‘He,’ or ‘she’ writes for the Public,” is a remark which, when spoken with a withering sneer, is supposed to have the effect of completely crushing the ambitious scribbler whose Power of the Pen has attracted some little attention. Now if authors are not to write for the Public, who are they to write for? Certain of the “superior” folk among them will say that they write “for posterity.” But then, Posterity is also the Public! I really do not see how either the great or the small author is to get away from the Public anyhow! There is only one means of escape, and that is--not to write at all. But if those to whom the Power of the Pen is given, wish to claim and use their highest privileges, they will work always for the public, and try to win their laurels from the public alone. Not by the voice of any “clique,” “club,” or “set” will Time accept the final verdict of an author’s greatness, but by the love and honour of an entire people. Because, whatever passing surface fancies may for awhile affect the public humour, the central soul of a nation always strives for Right, for Justice, and for final Good, and the author whose Power of the Pen helps strongly, boldly, and faithfully on towards these great ends, is not, and shall not be, easily forgotten. I hope and I believe, that it is only a few shallow, ignorant and unsuccessful persons--fancying perhaps that they have the Power of the Pen when they have it not--who, in their disappointment, take a sort of doleful comfort in “posing” as unrecognized geniuses, whose quality of thought is too fine,--they would say too “subtle”--for the public taste. For, in my humble opinion, nothing is too good for the Public. They deserve the very best they can get. No “scamp” work should ever be offered to them. If a poet sings, let him sing his sweetest for them; if a painter paints pictures, let him give them his finest skill; if an author writes stories, essays or romances, let him do his very utmost to charm, to instruct, to awaken their thought and excite their interest. It is not a wise thing to start writing for “posterity.” Because, if the present Public will have nothing to do with you, it is ten to one whether the future will. All our great authors have worked for the public of their own immediate time, without any egotistical calculations as to their possible wider appreciation after death.