Punchinello has hitherto refrained from criticising the periodicals of the day, from the mistaken idea that superlative excellence was not expected in every number of every daily or weekly journal in the land.  He did not know that, if every such journal was not edited so as to suit the comprehension of all classes of cursory critics, it should be unqualifiedly condemned.  Supposing that a painter should not condemn a paper for publishing a musical article beyond his comprehension, and that an architect ought not to get in a rage because he finds in his favorite journal a paper on beavers which makes him feel insignificant, punchinello has generally looked around upon his fellow-journalists, and thought them very good fellows, who generally published very good papers.  He did not find superlative excellence in any of their issues, but then he did not look for it.  He might as well pretend to look for that in the journalists themselves, or in society at large.  But he has lately learned, from the critics of the period, that he ought to look for it, and that it is the proper thing nowadays to pitch into every journal which does not, in every part, please every body, whether they be smart or dull; those quick of appreciation, or those slow gentlemen who always come in with their congratulations upon the birth of a joke at the time its funeral is taking place.  And so, punchinello will do as others do, and will occasionally view, from the loop-hole in his curtain, the successes and failures of his neighbors, and will give his patrons the benefit of his observations.

The first thing he notices to-day is, that the Evening Snail of last night is not so good as it was a fortnight ago; or, let us think a bit—­it may have been a good number at the beginning of last month that he was thinking of; at all events, this last issue is inferior.  The matter on the first page is not printed in nearly as good type as the original periodicals had it, and while the letters in the heading are quite fair, it is very noticeable that the I’s are very defective, and there is no C in it.  The “Gleanings” are excellent, and it would be advisable to have more of them—­if indeed such a thing were possible in this case.  The spider-work inside shows no acquaintance with the writings of BACH or GLIDDON, and there is nothing about the Spectrum Analysis in any part of the paper.  Besides, the paper is too stiff and rattles too much, and PUNCHINELLO could never abide the color of the editor’s pantaloons.  Why will not people dress and write so that every body can admire and understand them.  Especially in regard to witty things and breastpins They ought to be loud, overpowering, and so glaring that people could not help seeing them.  And they ought to be a little cheap, too, or average people won’t comprehend them.  In both cases paste (and scissors) pays better than diamonds.  The reports of private parties in the Snail are, however, very good, and if it would confine its original matter to such subjects, it could not fail to succeed.