f they were not too
reminiscent of the torture chamber. It is rarely, indeed, that even the
most highly-esteemed picture-makers succeed in depicting every portion
of a human body submitted to their brush, and not infrequently half
of the face is left out. Once, when asked by a paint-applier who was
entitled to append two signs of exceptional distinction behind his name,
to express an opinion upon a finished work, I diffidently called his
attention to the fact that he had forgotten to introduce a certain
exalted one's left ear. "Not at all, Mr. Kong," he replied, with an
expression of ill-merited self-satisfaction, "but it is hidden by the
face." "Yet it exists," I contended; "why not, therefore, press it to
the front at all hazard, rather than send so great a statesman down
into the annals of posterity as deformed to that extent?" "It certainly
exists," he admitted, "and one takes that for granted; but in my picture
it cannot be seen." I bowed complaisantly, content to let so damaging
an admission point its own despair. A moment later I continued, "In the
great Circular Hall of the Palace of Envoys there is a picture of
two camels, foot-tethered, as it fortunately chanced, to iron rings.
Formerly there were a drove of eight--the others being free--so
exquisitely outlined in all their parts that one night, when the door
had been left incautiously open, they stepped down from the wall and
escaped to the woods. How deplorable would have been the plight of these
unfortunate beings, if upon passing into the state of a living existence
they had found that as a result of the limited vision of their creator
they only possessed twelve legs and three whole bodies among them."

Perchance this tactfully-related story, so applicable to his own
deficiencies, may sink into the imagination of the one for whom it was
inoffensively unfolded. Yet doubt remains. Our own picture-judgers
take up a position at the side of work when they with to examine its
qualities, retiring to an ever-diminishing angle in order to bring out
the more delicate effects, until a very expert and conscientious critic
will not infrequently stand really behind the picture he is considering
before he delivers a final pronouncement. Not until these native artists
are able to regard their crude attempts from the other side of the
canvas can they hope to become equally proficient. To this fatal
shortcoming must be added that of insatiable ambition, which prompts
the yo