able specimens of their class, and only to be equalled
by those excellent literary judges who are always appealing to
posterity, which, even if a little temporary success has crowned you
to-day, will relegate you to your proper position to-morrow. If one
were weak enough to argue with these gentry, it would be easy to show
that popular authors are not 'worked out,' but only have the appearance
of being so from their taking their work too easily. Those whose
calling it is to depict human nature in fiction are especially subject
to this weakness; they do not give themselves the trouble to study new
characters, or at first hand, as of old; they sit at home and receive
the congratulations of Society without paying due attention to that
somewhat changeful lady, and they draw upon their memory, or their
imagination, instead of studying from the life. Otherwise, when they do
not give way to that temptation of indolence which arises from
competence and success, there is no reason why their reputation should
suffer, since, though they may lack the vigour or high spirits of those
who would push them from their stools, their experience and knowledge
of the world are always on the increase.

As to the argument with regard to posterity which is so popular with
the Critic on the Hearth, I am afraid he has no greater respect for the
opinion of posterity himself than for that of his possible
great-great-granddaughter. Indeed, he only uses it as being a weapon
the blow of which it is impossible to parry, and with the object of
being personally offensive. It is, moreover, noteworthy that his
position, which is sometimes taken up by persons of far greater
intelligence, is inconsistent with itself. The praisers of posterity
are also always the praisers of the past; it is only the present which
is in their eyes contemptible. Yet to the next generation this present
will be _their_ past, and, however valueless may be the verdict of
today, how much more so, by the most obvious analogy, will be that of
to-morrow. It is probable, indeed, though it is difficult to believe
it, that the Critics on the Hearth of the generation to come will make
themselves even more ridiculous than their immediate predecessors.

_SHAM ADMIRATION IN LITERATURE._

In all highly civilised communities Pretence is prominent, and sooner
or later invades the regions of Literature. In the beginning, this is
not altogether to be reprobated; it is the rude homage whi