Many persons old and young have remarked what I have just noted. I have often observed such differences of vision, but never gave any particular thought to the matter until the beautiful gilded statue of Diana on top of the lofty tower of the Madison Square Garden was erected as a weather-vane. The arrow of the chaste huntress points in the direction of the prevailing wind. To me the statue, when it was first erected, seemed at least ten feet tall. To another of my friends it seemed a trifle smaller, and so did the appearance vary, until the sixth of my companions said that to him the statue seemed no larger than a good-sized doll--that is, about two feet in height. Then we turned to the moon, and here again were six opinions. They varied from between attributing to the moon the size of a barrel-head, eighteen inches in diameter, and the size of a breakfast plate, about seven and a half inches. I was puzzled and interested, and as I saw larger than any of my friends, I was afraid that my eyes were in some way out of focus. Next day I went to an optician to ascertain whether or not I had normal vision. I was put through the usual tests of reading, without the aid of glasses, sentences in different-sized letters. Then the optician declared that I saw with most unusual accuracy. I was puzzled at this, for I regarded Mr. Augustus St. Gaudens, who had made the weather-vane statue of Diana, as the most gifted sculptor in America, and Mr. Stanford White, the designer of the tower upon which the statue stands, as one of our most accomplished architects. These gentlemen could not have made a mistake, I thought, for surely they did not mean that Diana should have to one standing on the ground the appearance of a giantess. It happened that the shop of the optician I consulted was in the neighborhood of Madison Square. Looking from the windows, one could see Diana changing her front as the spring winds shifted. Still she seemed at least ten feet in height. I turned to the optician. "Have you normal vision?" I asked. "I am not so fortunate," he replied. "Is there any one here whose vision has been frequently tested, and about which there can be no doubt?" A young man was sent for, and I was told that his eyesight was as perfect as human eyesight ever gets to be. I took him to the window and pointed out Diana, who now seemed in the act of shooting her arrow directly over our heads, and was therefore facing us. "How large does she look?" I asked. "Oh, she is too large," he responded, with a laugh; "she seems fully ten feet high to me." Here was confirmation of my own opinion. I then went to Mr. St. Gaudens. He told me frankly that the statue was too large, and that it was to be replaced by a smaller one--five feet shorter, a diminished replica. With the modelling he was entirely satisfied, as are all other competent art critics, I believe, but he was convinced that the statue was too tall.