_Politics and International Affairs._—Here practical literature takes a hint from the other sort. Be historical. Be reminded of the great Westminster Election and the Duchess of Devonshire. Remember Speaker Onslow. Compare whatever you dislike to the Rump. Magna Charta and Habeas Corpus must now be allowed a rest, but you may still allude to Thermidor and Brumaire, the Mountain and the Cordeliers Club. “Mr.” Pitt sounds well. Open your leader with “Nothing in the annals of diplomacy since the Treaty of Utrecht (or the Treaty of Vienna, or whatever other treaty you can think of) has so disgraced,” &c. The second paragraph should begin “Nor is that all.” Be slightly archaistic. Words like “caitiff” and “poltroon” may be discreetly used. Books recommended for the course: Gibbon, Junius, early volumes of Punch, Mahan’s “Sea Power,” and (for quotations) R. L. Stevenson’s “Wrong Box.” _Foreign Correspondence._—Remember that the particular capital you happen to be posted at is the real hub of your newspaper, and wonder every morning “what those fellows at the London office can be about” to print so much stuff about their silly local affairs. Practise political divination from the minutest data. If some little actress at the Marigny, or Belasco’s, makes you a _pied de nez_ you will say that “the Gallic temper (or public opinion in the Eastern States) is showing signs of dangerous exasperation.” If you find a junior Attaché lunching at the golf club on Sunday, you will say “the political tension is now at any rate momentarily relaxed.” If they charge you a few centimes or cents more for your box of chocolates you will say “the population is now groaning under famine prices, and State intervention cannot be much longer delayed.” _Criticism of the Arts and the Theatre._—As criticism is not practical, it hardly comes within the scope of instructions on practical literature. But newspapers, after all, must be filled, and, if the advertisements permit, room may be found even for criticism. Fortunately, it requires little if any instruction. The office boy, if he is not proud, may be turned on to it at a pinch. The charwomen, when they can be spared from their more useful work, often prove neat hands at it. Ideas are to be discouraged; a few catchwords are all that is necessary, with one decent hat for Private Views and one ditto dress suit for First Nights. The art critic will do well to find a new and unknown artist and track him down from show to show, comparing him in turn to Tintoretto, the lesser Umbrians, and the Giottos at Padua. (See Vasari _passim_, a repertory of delightful names.) The theatrical critic will make it his chief care to construct a striking sentence which the managers can quote, without excessive garbling, in their advertisements. It can end with “rapturously applauded,” with “rocked with laughter,” or with “for many a night to come.”