ATLAS.

_"Les points sur les i"_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Dec. 16, 1885.]

I agree with you, O Atlas of ages, that completeness is a reason for
ceasing to exist; but even indignation might be less vague than is
your righteous anger at _Vanity's_ Christmas cartoon. Surely you might
have helped the people, who scarcely distinguish between the original
and impudent imitation, to know that this faded leaf is not from the
book of Carlo Pellegrini, the master who has taught them all--that
they can never learn?

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_MR. WHISTLER'S_

"_TEN O'CLOCK_"

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_London_, 1888

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_Delivered in London_
Feb. 20, 1885

_At Cambridge_
March 24

_At Oxford_
April 30

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:

It is with great hesitation and much misgiving that I appear before
you, in the character of The Preacher.

If timidity be at all allied to the virtue modesty, and can find
favour in your eyes, I pray you, for the sake of that virtue, accord
me your utmost indulgence.

I would plead for my want of habit, did it not seem preposterous,
judging from precedent, that aught save the most efficient effrontery
could be ever expected in connection with my subject--for I will not
conceal from you that I mean to talk about Art. Yes, Art--that has of
late become, as far as much discussion and writing can make it, a sort
of common topic for the tea-table.

Art is upon the Town!--to be chucked under the chin by the passing
gallant--to be enticed within the gates of the householder--to be
coaxed into company, as a proof of culture and refinement.

If familiarity can breed contempt, certainly Art--or what is
currently taken for it--has been brought to its lowest stage of
intimacy.

The people have been harassed with Art in every guise, and vexed with
many methods as to its endurance. They have been told how they shall
love Art, and live with it. Their homes have been invaded, their walls
covered with paper, their very dress taken to task--until, roused at
last, bewildered and filled with the doubts and discomforts of
senseless suggestion, they resent such intrusion, and cast forth the
false prophets, who have brought the very name of the beautiful into
disrepute, and derision upon themselves.

Alas! ladies and gentlemen, Art has been maligned. She has naught in
co