(as Mrs. Quickly expresses it) peevish, as peevish as Rugby in his
prayers.[4] Is this because we know too much about Art? Oh, Lord bless
you, no! We know too little about it by far, and our wish is--to know
more. But _that_ is difficult; so many are the teachers, who by accident
had never any time to learn; so general is the dogmatism; and, worse
than all, so inveterate is the hypocrisy, wherever the graces of liberal
habits and association are supposed to be dependent upon a particular
mode of knowledge. To know nothing of theology or medicine has a sort of
credit about it; so far at least it is clear that you are not
professional, and to that extent the chances are narrowed that you get
your bread out of the public pocket. To be sure, it is still possible
that you may be a stay-maker, or a rat-catcher. But these are
out-of-the-way vocations, and nobody adverts to such narrow
possibilities. Now, on the other hand, to be a connoisseur in painting
or in sculpture, supposing always that you are no practising artist, in
other words, supposing that you know nothing about the subject, implies
that you must live amongst _comme-il-faut_ people who possess pictures
and casts to look at; else how the deuce could you have got your
knowledge--or, by the way, your ignorance, which answers just as well
amongst those who are not peevish. We, however, _are_ so, as we have
said already. And what made us peevish, in spite of strong original
_stamina_ for illimitable indulgence to all predestined bores and
nuisances in the way of conversation, was--not the ignorance, not the
nonsense, not the contradictoriness of opinion--no! but the false,
hypocritical enthusiasm about objects for which in reality they cared
not the fraction of a straw. To hear these bores talk of educating the
people to an acquaintance with what they call 'high art'! Ah, heavens,
mercifully grant that the earth may gape for us before _our_ name is
placed on any such committee! 'High art,' indeed! First of all, most
excellent bores, would you please to educate the people into the high
and mysterious art of boiling potatoes. We, though really owning no
particular duty or moral obligation of boiling potatoes, really _can_
boil them very decently in any case arising of public necessity for our
services; and if the art should perish amongst men, which seems likely
enough, so long as _we_ live, the public may rely upon it being
restored. But as to women, as to the wives of p