before), but it was _The Minister's Charge_ which gave the final
push to my defenses and fetched them tumbling about my ears in a cloud
of dust. In fact, it was a review of this book, written for the
_Transcript_ which brought about a meeting with the great novelist.

My friend Hurd liked the review and had it set up. The editor, Mr.
Clement, upon reading it in proof said to Hurd, "This is an able review.
Put it in as an editorial. Who is the writer of it?" Hurd told him about
me and Clement was interested. "Send him to me," he said.

On Saturday I was not only surprised and delighted by the sight of my
article in large type at the head of the literary page, I was fluttered
by the word which Mr. Clement had sent to me.

Humbly as a minstrel might enter the court of his king, I went before
the editor, and stood expectantly while he said: "That was an excellent
article. I have sent it to Mr. Howells. You should know him and sometime
I will give you a letter to him, but not now. Wait awhile. War is being
made upon him just now, and if you were to meet him your criticism
would have less weight. His enemies would say that you had come under
his personal influence. Go ahead with the work you have in hand, and
after you have put yourself on record concerning him and his books I
will see that you meet him."

Like a knight enlisted in a holy war I descended the long narrow
stairway to the street, and went to my home without knowing what passed
me.

I ruminated for hours on Mr. Clement's praise. I read and re-read my
"able article" till I knew it by heart and then I started in, seriously,
to understand and estimate the school of fiction to which Mr. Howells
belonged. I read every one of his books as soon as I could obtain them.
I read James, too, and many of the European realists, but it must have
been two years before I called upon Mr. Clement to redeem his promise.

Deeply excited, with my note of introduction carefully stowed in my
inside pocket, I took the train one summer afternoon bound for Lee's
Hotel in Auburndale, where Mr. Howells was at this time living.

I fervently hoped that the building would not be too magnificent for I
felt very small and very poor on alighting at the station, and every rod
of my advance sensibly decreased my self-esteem. Starting with faltering
feet I came to the entrance of the grounds in a state of panic, and as I
looked up the path toward the towering portico of the hotel, it seemed
to