ecott was a fine literary
artist, who was able to express himself with rare facility in pictures
in place of words, so that his comments upon a simple text reveal
endless subtleties of thought. Indeed, he continued to make a fairly
logical sequence of incidents out of the famous nonsense paragraph
invented to confound mnemonics by its absolute irrelevancy. Miss
Greenaway's charm lies in the fact that she first recognised quaintness
in what had been considered merely "old fashion," and continued to
infuse it with a glamour that made it appear picturesque. Had she
dressed her figures in contemporary costume most probably her work would
have taken its place with the average, and never obtained more than
common popularity.

[Illustration: ILLUSTRATION FROM "ROBINSON CRUSOE" BY GORDON BROWNE

(BLACKIE AND SON)]

But Mr. Walter Crane is almost unique in his profound sympathy with the
fantasies he imagines. There is no trace of make-believe in his designs.
On the contrary, he makes the old legends become vital, not because of
the personalities he bestows on his heroes and fairy princesses--his
people move often in a rapt ecstasy--but because the adjuncts of his
_mise-en-scenes_ are realised intimately. His prince is much more the
typical hero than any particular person; his fair ladies might exchange
places, and few would notice the difference; but when it comes to the
environment, the real incidents of the story, then no one has more fully
grasped both the dramatic force and the local colour. If his people are
not peculiarly alive, they are in harmony with the re-edified cities and
woods that sprang up under his pencil. He does not bestow the hoary
touch of antiquity on his mediaeval buildings; they are all new and
comely, in better taste probably than the actual buildings, but not more
idealised than are his people. He is the true artist of fairyland,
because he recognises its practical possibilities, and yet does not lose
the glamour which was never on sea or land. No artist could give more
cultured notions of fairyland. In his work the vulgar glories of a
pantomime are replaced by well-conceived splendour; the tawdry adjuncts
of a throne-room, as represented in a theatre, are ignored. Temples and
palaces of the early Renaissance, filled with graceful--perhaps a shade
too suave--figures, embody all the charm of the impossible country, with
none of the sordid drawbacks that are common to real life. In modern
dress, as in