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We have to do so much, especially in my own country, that our

minds gradually cease to be creative, and yet we cannot help it.

If our life was not a continual warfare, we would not have taste,

we would not know what is good, we would not find hearers and

readers. Four-fifths of our energy is spent in the quarrel with

bad taste, whether in our own minds or in the minds of others."

"I understand," he replied, "we too have our propagandist

writing. In the villages they recite long mythological poems

adapted from the Sanskrit in the Middle Ages, and they often

insert passages telling the people that they must do their

duties."

II