thereof was so indecent, irreligious, and improper that his proof-
reader--a young lady--had with difficulty been induced to continue its
perusal, and that he, as a friend of the publisher and a well-wisher
of the magazine, was impelled to present to him personally this
shameless evidence of the manner in which the editor was imperilling
the future of that enterprise. It should be premised that the critic
was a man of character and standing, the head of a large printing
establishment, a church member, and, the author thinks, a deacon. In
which circumstances the publisher frankly admitted to the author that,
while he could not agree with all of the printer's criticisms, he
thought the story open to grave objection, and its publication of
doubtful expediency.

Believing only that he was the victim of some extraordinary
typographical blunder, the author at once sat down and read the proof.
In its new dress, with the metamorphosis of type,--that metamorphosis
which every writer so well knows changes his relations to it and makes
it no longer seem a part of himself,--he was able to read it with
something of the freshness of an untold tale. As he read on he found
himself affected, even as he had been affected in the conception and
writing of it--a feeling so incompatible with the charges against it,
that he could only lay it down and declare emphatically, albeit
hopelessly, that he could really see nothing objectionable in it.
Other opinions were sought and given. To the author's surprise, he
found himself in the minority. Finally, the story was submitted to
three gentlemen of culture and experience, friends of publisher and
author,--who were unable, however, to come to any clear decision. It
was, however, suggested to the author that, assuming the natural
hypothesis that his editorial reasoning might be warped by his
literary predilections in a consideration of one of his own