understanded of the people, does not give one any special insight into
its simple mysteries, beyond a certain perception and appreciation of
the technical means by which it is produced--unless one is gifted with
the critical faculty, a gift apart, to the possession of which I make
no claim.

There are two kinds of critics of such work as ours. First there is
the wide public for whom we work and by whom we are paid; "who lives
to please must please to live"; and who lives by drawing for a comic
periodical must manage to please the greater number. The judgment of
this critic, though often sound, is not infallible; but his verdict
for the time being is final, and by it we, who live by our wits and
from hand to mouth, must either stand or fall.

The other critic is the expert, our fellow-craftsman, who has learned
by initiation, apprenticeship, and long practice the simple secrets of
our common trade. He is not quite infallible either, and is apt to
concern himself more about the manner than the matter of our
performance; nor is he of immediate importance, since with the public
on our side we can do without him for a while, and flourish like a
green bay-tree in spite of his artistic disapproval of our work; but
he is not to be despised, for he is some years in advance of that
other critic, the public, who may, and probably will, come round to
his way of thinking in time.

The first of these two critics is typified by Molière's famous cook,
who must have been a singularly honest, independent, and intelligent
person, since he chose in all cases to abide by her decision, and not
with an altogether unsatisfactory result to Mankind! Such cooks are
not to be found in these days--certainly not in England; but he is an