An editor is merely a man who knows his right hand from his left,
good from evil, having the honesty of a kitchen cook
who will not spoil his confection by favour for a friend.
Fear of a foe is not a temptation, since editors are too humble and harmless
to have any. There are of course certain slight offices
which an editor can render, especially to those whose writings
he does not intend to print, but John McCrae required none of these.
His work was finished to the last point. He would bring his piece in his hand
and put it on the table. A wise editor knows when to keep his mouth shut;
but now I am free to say that he never understood the nicety
of the semi-colon, and his writing was too heavily stopped.

He was not of those who might say, -- take it or leave it; but rather, --
look how perfect it is; and it was so. Also he was the first to recognize
that an editor has some rights and prejudices, that certain words
make him sick; that certain other words he reserves for his own use, --
"meticulous" once a year, "adscititious" once in a life time.
This explains why editors write so little. In the end,
out of mere good nature, or seeing the futility of it all,
they contribute their words to contributors and write no more.

The volume of verse as here printed is small. The volume might be enlarged;
it would not be improved. To estimate the value and institute a comparison
of those herein set forth would be a congenial but useless task,
which may well be left to those whose profession it is to offer instruction
to the young. To say that "In Flanders Fields" is not the best
would involve one in controversy. It did give expression to a mood
which at the time was universal, and will remain as a permanent record
when the mood is passed away.