_A Warning_

[Sidenote: _The World_, June 1, 1881.]

[Sidenote: _REFLECTION:_

"A foolish man's foot is soon in his neighbour's house; but a man of experience is ashamed of him."

[Ill.u.s.tration]]

My dear James,--I see from a weekly paper that your late residence, the White House, in t.i.te Street, is now occupied by Mr. Harry Quilter, "the excellent art critic and writer on art," or words to that effect.

This is the great man who has succeeded Mr. Tom Taylor on the _Times_, and whose vagaries in art criticism you and I, my dear James, have previously noticed....

ATLAS.

_Naf Enfant_

[Sidenote: _The Times_, May 2, 1881.]

Close to this is another portrait of extreme interest, and, though of another kind, it is not inappropriately near Mr. Hunt's work. This is Mr. John Ruskin, painted by Mr. Herkomer. It is difficult to dissociate this picture, as regards the merit of its painting, from the interest which attaches to it as being the first oil portrait we have ever seen of our great art critic.... The picture remains a singularly fine one, and is, in our opinion, Mr. Herkomer's best portrait.

_A Straight Tip_

[Sidenote: _The World_, May 18, 1881.]

"Ne pas confondre intelligence avec gendarmes"--but surely, dear Atlas, when the art critic of the _Times_, suffering possibly from chronic catarrh, is wafted in at the Grosvenor without guide or compa.s.s, and cannot by mere sense of smell distinguish between oil and water colour, he ought, like Mark Twain, "to inquire."

Had he asked the guardian or the fireman in the gallery, either might have told him not to say that one of the chief interests of Mr.

Herkomer's large water-colour drawing of Mr. Ruskin "attaches to it as being _the first oil portrait_ we have ever seen of our great art critic"! Adieu.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

_An Eager Authority_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Feb. 9, 1881.]

Mr. Whistler knows how to defend himself so perkily that it is a pleasure to attack him. I hasten, therefore, with joy, to submit to you, dear Atlas, who are growing so very clever at your languages, the following crotchets and quavers--shall I call them? for Mr. Whistler is just now full of "notes"--in American-Italian; they are from his delightful brown-paper catalogue. To begin with, "Santa Margharita" is wrong; it must be either Margarita or Margherita; the other is impossible Italian. Then who or what is "San Giovanni _Apostolo et Evangelistae_"? Does the sprightly and shrill McNeill mean this for Latin? And is the "Cafe Orientale" intended to be French or Italian?

It has an _e_ too many for French, and an _f_ too few for Italian.

"Piazetta," furthermore, does duty for "Piazzetta." Finally I give up "Campo Sta. Martin." I don't know what that can be. The Italian Calendar has a San Martino and a Santa Martina, but Sta. Martin is very curious. The catalogue is exceedingly short, but a few of the names are right.

_An Admission_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Feb. 16, 1881]

Touche!--and my compliments to your "Correspondent," Atlas, _cheri_--far from me to justify spelling of my own! But who could possibly have supposed an orthographer loose! Evidently too "ung vieulx qui a moult roule en Palestine et aultres lieux!"

What it is to be prepared, though! Atlas, _mon pauvre ami_, you know the story of the witness who, when asked how far he stood from the spot where the deed was done, answered unhesitatingly--"Sixty-three feet seven inches!" "How, sir," cried the prosecuting lawyer--"how can you possibly pretend to such accuracy?" "Well," returned the man in the box, "you see I thought some d----d fool would be sure to ask me, and so I measured."

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_'Arry in the Grosvenor_

Atlas--In spite of the Kyrle Society, I don't appeal to the middle cla.s.ses; for I read in the _Times_ that 'Arry won't have me. I am ranked with the _caviare_ of his betters, and add not to the relish of his winkles and tea.

Also, why troubles he about many things?

[Sidenote: _The World_, May 17, 1882.]

But, alas! as is aptly remarked in one of the weekly papers, "'Arry has taken to going to the Grosvenor;" and "ce n'est pas tout que d'etre honnete," he says, lightly paraphrasing Alfred de Musset, "il faut etre joli garcon!"

And so he blooms into an aesthete of his own order. To have seen him, O my wise Atlas, was my privilege and my misery; for he stood under one of my own "harmonies"--already with difficulty gasping its gentle breath--himself an amazing "arrangement" in strong mustard-and-cress, with bird's-eye belcher of Reckitt's blue; and then and there destroyed absolutely, unintentionally, and once for all, my year's work!

Atlas, shall these things be?

[Ill.u.s.tration]

_Encouragement_

_TO OSCAR ON HIS "TOUR."_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Feb. 15, 1882.]

Oscar--We, of t.i.te Street and Beaufort Gardens, joy in your triumphs and delight in your success; but we are of opinion that, with the exception of your epigrams, you talk like "S---- C---- in the provinces"; and that, with the exception of your knee-breeches, you dress like 'Arry Quilter.