io6 On the Making of Music, far to go before we reach them. They are, like the Kingdom of Heaven, within us. My Books I never make them: they grow; they come to me and insist on being written, and on being such and such. I did not want to write Erewhon, I wanted to go on painting and found it an abominable nuisance being dragged willy-nilly into writing it. So with all my books—the subjects were never of my own choosing; they pressed themselves upon me with more force than I could resist. If I had not liked the subjects I should have kicked, and nothing would have got me to do them at all. As I did like the subjects and the books came and said they were to be written, I grumbled a little and wrote them.* Great Works These have always something of the " de profundis" about them. New Ideas Every new idea has something of the pain and peril of childbirth about it; ideas are just as mortal and just as immortal as organised beings are. Books and Children If the literary offspring is not to die young, almost as much trouble must be taken with it as with the bringing up of a physical child. Still, the physical child is the harder work of the two. The'Life of Books Some writers think about the life of books as some savages think about the life of men—that there are books which never die. They all die sooner or later; but that will not hinder an author from trying to give his book as long a life as he can fet for it. The fact that it will have to die is no valid reason 3r letting it die sooner than can be helped. * Cf. the note " Reproduction/' p. 16 ante.