[To TIIE EDITOR ON TUB " spacrAton."]
have just discovered that your editorial eye may, occasionally, wink. In the Spectator of February 11th the last book of the Bible is misnamed "Revelations." And this discovery emboldens me to approach you on a matter of greater moment. Some weeks ago one of your reviewers, describing James I., wrote: "His personality was singularly unattractive; everything about him recalled the schoolmaster, —his pedantry, his formalism." Such a judgment delivered in a more prejudiced journal would not have surprised me, however much amused I might have been at the revival of a bogey. The stage Irishman does not make my blood boil; why should a bogey schoolmaster? But bogeys are rare in the Spectator, and this was no transient and embarrassed phantom, but one which seemed to have walked in confidently at the editor's front door and paid a decent visit. However, I am now encouraged to hope that if you, Sir, had been really at home, you would have kicked the creature down the steps and mildly rebuked the superstitious maid to whose ignorance it had owed admission. To return to my original metaphor, I sincerely hope you winked.—I am, Sir, &c., POSSIBLY A. PEDANT.
[We fully admit the unfairness of the reflection on the teaching profession, and regret that, like "Revelations," it escaped the editorial pencil.—En. Spectator.]