I have written several books. Perhaps here I ought to refer to Mr. Burton, of Ipswich, who was the first to anticipate the growing demand for good and cheap literature by the publication of the “Run and Read Library,” which deserved a better sale than it really secured. He published my first book—a reprint of sketches of leading ministers of all denominations, which had appeared in a London weekly paper, and paid me for it in the most liberal manner. I fear Mr. Burton was a little in advance of his age. At any rate, he soon disappeared from Ipswich and the publishing trade. Surely such a spirited town as Ipswich might have better supported such a thoroughly deserving man. Possibly my experiences may be useful. One thing is clear, that a review may one day praise you highly, and another day as strongly condemn. How is this?—a matter of personal prejudice say the public. I don’t believe it. Personal prejudice is not so common in reviews as the ignorant public thinks. Accident has a great deal to do with it. A newspaper proprietor once told me he had two reviewers, one of whom always cut up all the books sent for review, while the other praised them, and it depended upon the chance into whose hands your book might fall, whether you were praised or censured. Again, it is much easier to find fault than to praise. A youthful reviewer is specially gratified when he can “slate” an author, and besides how it flatters his own self-esteem! It is true the reviewer in doing so often blunders, but no one finds it out. For instance, many years ago no man was better known in certain circles than Mr. John Morley, the brother, the philanthropic brother of that great philanthropist, Mr. Samuel Morley. I had written in a book on City life that a certain portion of the Gospels had been given away by Mr. John Morley on a certain occasion. Our great Mr. John Morley was then only known to a select few. The general public would perfectly understand who was the Mr. John Morley to whom I referred. The reviewer who deprecated my book, briefly, as somewhat gloomy—it had not become the fashion then to expose the sores of City life—sneeringly observed that it would be interesting if I would state what were the portions of the Gospels given away by Mr. John Morley, evidently ignorant that there could be any John Morley besides the one he knew. I do not for a moment suppose that the reviewer had any personal pique towards myself. His blunder was simply one of ignorance. In another case it seemed to me that the reviewer of a critical journal which had no circulation had simply made his review a ground of attack against a weekly paper of far greater circulation and authority than his own. I had published a little sketch of travel in Canada. The review of it was long and wearisome. I could not understand it till I read in the closing sentence that there was no reason why the book should have been reprinted from the obscure journal in which it originally appeared—that obscure journal at the time being, as it is to this day, one of the most successful of all our weeklies. In his case the _motif_ of the ill-natured criticism was very obvious.