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ardours and chill moods of indifference； complex multiform gifts of thoughts that are at variance with each other； and passions that war against themselves。 And so； it is not our own life that we live； but the lives of the dead； and the soul that dwells within us is no single spiritual entity； making us personal and individual； created for our service； and entering into us for our joy。 It is something that has dwelt in fearful places； and in ancient sepulchres has made its abode。 It is sick with many maladies； and has memories of curious sins。 It is wiser than we are； and its wisdom is bitter。 It fills us with impossible desires； and makes us follow what we know we cannot gain。 One thing； however； Ernest； it can do for us。 It can lead us away from surroundings whose beauty is dimmed to us by the mist of familiarity； or whose ignoble ugliness and sordid claims are marring the perfection of our development。 It can help us to leave the age in which we were born； and to pass into other ages； and find ourselves not exiled from their air。 It can teach us how to escape from our experience； and to realise the experiences of those who are greater than we are。 The pain of Leopardi crying out against life becomes our pain。 Theocritus blows on his pipe； and we laugh with the lips of nymph and shepherd。 In the wolfskin of Pierre Vidal we flee before the hounds； and in the armour of Lancelot we ride from the bower of the Queen。 We have whispered the secret of our love beneath the cowl of Abelard； and in the stained raiment of Villon have put our shame into song。 We can see the dawn through Shelley's eyes； and when we wander with Endymion the Moon grows amorous of our youth。 Ours is the anguish of Atys； and ours the weak rage and noble sorrows of the Dane。 Do you think that it is the imagination that enables us to live these countless lives？ Yes： it is the imagination； and the imagination is the result of heredity。 It is simply concentrated race…experience。
ERNEST。 But where in this is the function of the critical spirit？
GILBERT。 The culture that this transmission of racial experiences makes possible can be made perfect by the critical spirit alone； and indeed may be said to be one with it。 For who is the true critic but he who bears within himself the dreams； and ideas； and feelings of myriad generations； and to whom no form of thought is alien； no emotional impulse obscure？ And who the true man of culture； if not he who by fine scholarship and fastidious rejection has made instinct self…conscious and intelligent； and can separate the work that has distinction from the work that has it not； and so by contact and comparison makes himself master of the secrets of style and school； and understands their meanings； and listens to their voices； and develops that spirit of disinterested curiosity which is the real root； as it is the real flower； of the intellectual life； and thus attains to intellectual clarity； and； having learned 'the best that is known and thought in the world；' lives … it is not fanciful to say so … with those who are the Immortals。
Yes； Ernest： the contemplative life； the life that has for its aim not DOING but BEING； and not BEING merely； but BECOMING … that is what the critical spirit can give us。 The gods live thus： either brooding over their own perfection； as Aristotle tells us； or； as Epicurus fancied； watching with the calm eyes of the spectator the tragicomedy of the world that they have made。 We； too； might live like them； and set ourselves to witness with appropriate emotions the varied scenes that man and nature afford。 We might make ourselves spiritual by detaching ourselves from action； and become perfect by the rejection of energy。 It has often seemed to me that Browning felt something of this。 Shakespeare hurls Hamlet into active life； and makes him realise his mission by effort。 Browning might have given us a Hamlet who would have realised his mission by thought。 Incident and event were to him unreal or unmeaning。 He made the soul the protagonist of life's tragedy； and looked on action as the one undramatic element of a play。 To us； at any rate； the ＇Greek text which cannot be reproduced＇ is the true ideal。 From the high tower of Thought we can look out at the world。 Calm； and self…centred； and complete； the aesthetic critic contemplates life； and no arrow drawn at a venture can pierce between the joints of his harness。 He at least is safe。 He has discovered how to live。
Is such a mode of life immoral？ Yes： all the arts are immoral； except those baser forms of sensual or didactic art that seek to excite to action of evil or of good。 For action of every kind belongs to the sphere of ethics。 The aim of art is simply to create a mood。 Is such a mode of life unpractical？ Ah！ it is not so easy to be unpractical as the ignorant Philistine imagines。 It were well for England if it were so。 There is no country in the world so much in need of unpractical people as this country of ours。 With us； Thought is degraded by its constant association with practice。 Who that moves in the stress and turmoil of actual existence； noisy politician； or brawling social reformer； or poor narrow…minded priest blinded by the sufferings of that unimportant section of the community among whom he has cast his lot； can seriously claim to be able to form a disinterested intellectual judgment about any one thing？ Each of the professions means a prejudice。 The necessity for a career forces every one to take sides。 We live in the age of the overworked； and the under… educated； the age in which people are so industrious that they become absolutely stupid。 And； harsh though it may sound； I cannot help saying that such people deserve their doom。 The sure way of knowing nothing about life is to try to make oneself useful。
ERNEST。 A charming doctrine； Gilbert。
GILBERT。 I am not sure about that； but it has at least the minor merit of being true。 That the desire to do good to others produces a plentiful crop of prigs is the least of the evils of which it is the cause。 The prig is a very interesting psychological study； and though of all poses a moral pose is the most offensive； still to have a pose at all is something。 It is a formal recognition of the importance of treating life from a definite and reasoned standpoint。 That Humanitarian Sympathy wars against Nature； by securing the survival of the failure； may make the man of science loathe its facile virtues。 The political economist may cry out against it for putting the improvident on the same level as the provident； and so robbing life of the strongest； because most sordid； incentive to industry。 But； in the eyes of the thinker； the real harm that emotional sympathy does is that it limits knowledge； and so prevents us from solving any single social problem。 We are trying at present to stave off the coming crisis； the coming revolution as my friends the Fabianists call it； by means of doles and alms。 Well； when the revolution or crisis arrives； we shall be powerless； because we shall know nothing。 And so； Ernest； let us not be deceived。 England will never be civilised till she has added Utopia to her dominions。 There is m