of novels? In this matter the late Ministry,* to be sure, was better
qualified; but even then, grumblers who had not got their canary
cordons, would have hinted at professional jealousies entering the
Cabinet; and, the ribbons being awarded, Jack would have scowled at his
because Dick had a broader one; Ned been indignant because Bob's was as
large: Tom would have thrust his into the drawer, and scorned to wear it
at all. No--no: the so-called literary world was well rid of Minerva
and her yellow ribbon. The great poets would have been indifferent, the
little poets jealous, the funny men furious, the philosophers satirical,
the historians supercilious, and, finally, the jobs without end.
Say, ingenuity and cleverness are to be rewarded by State tokens and
prizes--and take for granted the Order of Minerva is established--who
shall have it? A great philosopher? no doubt we cordially salute him
G.C.M. A great historian? G.C.M. of course. A great engineer? G.C.M.
A great poet? received with acclamation G.C.M. A great painter? oh!
certainly, G.C.M. If a great painter, why not a great novelist?
Well, pass, great novelist, G.C.M. But if a poetic, a pictorial, a
story-telling or music-composing artist, why not a singing artist?
Why not a basso-profondo? Why not a primo tenore? And if a singer, why
should not a ballet-dancer come bounding on the stage with his cordon,
and cut capers to the music of a row of decorated fiddlers? A chemist
puts in his claim for having invented a new color; an apothecary for
a new pill; the cook for a new sauce; the tailor for a new cut of
trousers. We have brought the star of Minerva down from the breast to
the pantaloons. Stars and garters! can we go any farther; or shall we
give the shoe maker the yellow ribbon of the order for his shoetie?

* That of Lord Derby, in 1859, which included Mr. Disraeli
and Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton.