The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (5.1895)

2o6

The Phantasies of Philarete

and yet in some respects gratuitously offensive, review of my latest
book which appeared in your issue of Thursday last, and that he then
goes on to tout for employment by the editor of a magazine with
which I am supposed to be connected. I do not know whether yon
have any views upon the dignity of journalism ; but you have pro-
bably strong views upon the ethics of advertising, and are not very
eager to give payment, instead of receiving it, for allowing a small
scribe to introduce his wares through your literary columns to possible
purchasers. I think it well for you to know to what base use even
Noon can be put.

Yours faithfully,

H ARTMANN WeST.

Seldom had Andrew Mackenzie feit such an access of speechless
rage ; and for the moment he could not teil which object of his
emotion was the more hateful. He was not a physically violent
man, but had either West or Errington presented himself at that
moment, violence would certainly have been done. He had not
willingly inserted the review of The Phantasies of Philarete; in
fact, he had remarked to his nephew and sub-editor that he wished
Errington had chosen any other book on which to “ tap his-

d-d private cask of gush ; ” but having explicitly given the

owner of the cask a free hand, he had not feit it consistent with
dignity implicitly to cancel the authorisation. And now this
consummate cad, who ought to be off his head with exultation at
having been honoured with even the coolest notice of Noon, had
actually dared to write of its praise as “ fulsome ” and “ gratui-
tously offensive.” What was meant by the latter term Mackenzie
did not trouble to guess ; but had he done so, his trouble would
have been fruitless, for one vain man can seldom sound the depths
of vanity in another. The fact was that Errington had made a
veiled reference to previous criticisms of the book as “ attempts

made