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[154] than when merely breathed to the night-air of some unsympathising friend who forgets all about them the next minute; but we do think the whole business is in most ridiculously bad taste. An Apostle teaches us of ‘groanings which cannot be uttered’—it would be a great relief to readers, if editorial groanings were of this sort. Now, we pride ourselves rather on the delights of our profession; and we rejoice to say, that we find them neither few nor inconsiderable. There is one which even now flitted across our path, which, to tell the truth, was rather above the average—in fact, so good, that we cannot afford to monopolize it, even though we shall be constrained to allow our reader a peep behind the curtain. So, here it is:

[Scene. Editorial Sanctum—Editor solusi. e. immersed in thought and newspapers, with a journal in one hand and busily spoiling white paper with the other—only two particular friends talking to him at each elbow. Devil calls for “copy” at momentary intervals. Enter a butternut—colored gentleman, who bows most emphatically.]

Gent. Are you the editor of the New Yorker, sir?

Editor. The same, sir, at your service.

Gent. Did you write this, sir?

Editor. Takes his scissored extract and reads— “So, when we hear the brazen vender of quack remedies boldly trumpeting his miraculous cures, or the announcement of the equally impudent experimenter on public credulity (Goward) who announces, that he ” teaches music in six lessons, and half a dozen distinct branches of science in as many weeks, “ we may be grieved, and even indignant, that such palpable deceptions of the simple and unwary should not be discountenanced and exposed.”

That reads like me, sir. I do not remember the passage; but if you found it in the editorial columns of the New Yorker, I certainly did write it.

Gent. It was in No. 15. ‘The March of Humbug.’

Editor. Ah! now I recollect it—there is no mistake in my writing that article.

Gent. Did you allude to me, sir, in those remarks?

Editor. You will perceive that the name “ Goward” has been introduced by yourself—there is nothing of the kind in my paper.

Gent. Yes, sir; but I wish to know whether you intended those remarks to apply to me.

Editor. Well, sir, without pretending to recollect exactly what I may have been thinking of while writing an article three months ago, I will frankly say, that I think I must have had you in my eye while penning that paragraph.

Gent. Well, sir, do you know that such remarks are grossly unjust and impertinent to me?

Editor. I know nothing of you, sir, but from the testimony of friends and your own advertisements in the papers—and these combine to assure me that you are a quack.

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