here collapse was immediate, the creature
Critic is of comparatively modern growth--and certainly, in perfect
condition, of recent date. To his completeness go qualities evolved
from the latest lightnesses of to-day--indeed, the _fine fleur_ of his
type is brought forth in Paris, and beside him the Englishman is but
rough-hewn and blundering after all; though not unkindly should one
say it, as reproaching him with inferiority resulting from chances
neglected.

The truth is, as compared with his brother of the Boulevards, the
Briton was badly begun by nature.

To take himself seriously is the fate of the humbug at home, and
destruction to the jaunty career of the art critic, whose essence of
success lies in his strong sense of his ephemeral existence, and his
consequent horror of _ennuyer_ing his world--in short, to perceive the
joke of life is rarely given to our people, whilst it forms the
mainspring of the Parisian's _savoir plaire_. The finesse of the
Frenchman, acquired in long loafing and clever _cafe_ cackle--the glib
go and easy assurance of the _petit creve_, combined with the _chic_
of great habit--the brilliant _blague_ of the ateliers--the aptitude
of their _argot_--the fling of the _Figaro_, and the knack of short
paragraphs, which allows him to print of a picture "C'est bien ecrit!"
and of a subject, "C'est bien dit!"--these are elements of an
_ensemble_ impossible in this island.

Still, we are "various" in our specimens, and a sense of progress is
noticeable when we look about among them.

Indications of their period are perceptible, and curiously enough a
similarity is suggested, by their work, between themselves and the
vehicles we might fancy carrying them about to their livelihood.

Tough old Tom, the busy City 'Bus, with its heavy jolting and many
halts; its steady, sturdy, stodgy continuance on the same old much
worn way, every turning known, and freshness unhoped for; its patient
dreary dulness of daily duty to its cheap company--struggling on to
its end, nevertheless, and pulling up at the Bank! with a flourish
from the driver, and a joke from the cad at the door.

Then the contributors to the daily papers: so many hansoms bowling
along that the moment may not be lost, and the _a propos_ gone for
ever. The one or two broughams solemnly rolling for reviews, while the
lighter bicycle zigzags irresponsibly in among them for the happy
Halfpennies.

What a commerce it all is, to be sure!

No