class which the critic does not like, although
it is legitimate; he may not flout it on that account. You should not
blame a bream because it is not a barbel, or a chub for not being a
trout, yet the angler grumbles if he catches the humbler fish when
aiming at the noble; we are all agreed that the gardener was not
justified in "larning" with a spade the squalid batrachians to be toads;
even musical comedies ought not to be criticized with spade strokes,
although in connection with them it is a pity that a spade so rarely has
been called by its proper name. Moreover, one may have an entirely
unreasonable prejudice against the works of the particular dramatist. We
all suffer from strange aversions in literary matters. There are readers
of culture who find no pleasure in Borrow, and some nearly shriek at the
mere name of Peacock and so on. In fact we have dislikes founded, or
rather unfounded, upon the basis of Bussy Rabutin's lines:

"Je ne vous aime point, Hylas;
Je n'en saurois dire la cause.
Je sais seulement une chose.
C'est que je ne vous aime pas."

Next comes an even more intimate personal element--the critic's
condition. The day may have been vexing. The present indecent haste of
the income-tax collector may have worried him. His dinner may have been
bad. Perhaps he had to rush off without his coffee; new boots are a
conceivable element; a bad seat in the theatre may annoy him; many
managers give better places to their friends in the profession than to
the critics. Before now critics have sat out a boisterous farce when
suffering from an excruciating tooth-ache.

Moreover, some of the principal players may not be to his taste. There
are artists of indisputable merit who are no more palatable to some of
us than an untravelled cigar or wines from across the ocean. Think,
then, of the unfortunate critic honestly endeavouring to make reasonable
allowances for all the matters which may have affected him when forming
his judgment.

Such elements are wickedly insidious; it is difficult to believe when
one is bored that one would not be bored but for some such adventitious
matter. The conscientious critic makes a great effort to be just under
such circumstances, and there is great danger that he may out-Brutus
Brutus--in the opposite direction. It is very galling, after writing a
favourable notice on what seemed to be a tedious play, to have your
fellow-workers ask why on earth you treated it so favo