not from the moralist but from the man of science--when from the
desiccating atmosphere of the laboratory there rises this glorious
cry of faith and reconstruction."

The review was minute and exhaustive. Thanks no doubt to Harviss's
diplomacy, it had been given to the _Investigator's_ "best man," and
the Professor was startled by the bold eye with which his
emancipated fallacies confronted him. Under the reviewer's handling
they made up admirably as truths, and their author began to
understand Harviss's regret that they should be used for any less
profitable purpose.

The _Investigator_, as Harviss phrased it, "set the pace," and the
other journals followed, finding it easier to let their critical
man-of-all-work play a variation on the first reviewer's theme than
to secure an expert to "do" the book afresh. But it was evident that
the Professor had captured his public, for all the resources of the
profession could not, as Harviss gleefully pointed out, have carried
the book so straight to the heart of the nation. There was something
noble in the way in which Harviss belittled his own share in the
achievement, and insisted on the inutility of shoving a book which
had started with such headway on.

"All I ask you is to admit that I saw what would happen," he said
with a touch of professional pride. "I knew you'd struck the right
note--I knew they'd be quoting you from Maine to San Francisco. Good
as fiction? It's better--it'll keep going longer."

"Will it?" said the Professor with a slight shudder. He was resigned
to an ephemeral triumph, but the thought of the book's persistency