Editors--even the much-abused editors--are always looking about for
good and popular writers. But the world is critical. To become popular
requires a combination of qualities, which include special training,
education, and natural aptitude. Art, again, in every possible branch,
offers recognition--and pay--for good work. But it must be really
good. The world is even more critical in Art than in Literature. In
the theatre, managers are always looking about for good plays, good
actors, and good actresses. In scholarship, women who have taken
university honours command good salaries and an honourable position if
they can teach. In music, a really good composer, player, or singer,
is always received with joy and the usual solid marks of approval. In
this great open Market there is no favouritism possible, because the
public, which is scornful of failure--making no allowance, and
receiving no excuses--is also generous and quick to recognise success.
In this Market clever women have exactly the same chances as clever
men; their work commands the same price. George Eliot is as well paid
as Thackeray; and the Market is full of the most splendid prizes both
of praise and pudding. It is a most wonderful Market. In all other
Markets the stalls are full of good things which the vendors are
anxious to sell, but cannot. In this Market nothing is offered but it
is snapped up greedily by the buyers; there are even, indeed, men who
buy up the things before they reach the open Market. In other Markets
the cry of those who stand at the stalls is 'Buy, buy, buy!' In this
Market it is the buyers who cry out continually, 'Bring out more wares
to sell.' Only to think of this Market, and of the thousands of
gentlewomen outside, fills the heart with sadness.

For outside, there is quite another kind of Market. Here there are
long lines of stalls behind which stand the gentlewomen eagerly
offering their wares. Alas! here is Art in every shape, but it is not