"Print it--print it then, as fast as you can--that is your business--that's what you are paid for. Every one for himself," cried Random, insolently throwing the manuscript at Forester; and, as he flung out of the shop with his companions, he added, with a contemptuous laugh, "A printer's devil setting up for a critic! He may be a capital judge of pica and brevier, perhaps--but let not the compositor go beyond his stick." "Is this the man," said Forester, "whom I have heard so eloquent in the praise of candour and liberality? Is this the man who talks of universal toleration and freedom of opinion, and who yet cannot bear that any one should differ from him in criticising a sentence? Is this the man who would have equality amongst all his fellow-creatures, and who calls a compositor a printer's devil? Is this the man who cants about the _pre-eminence of mind_ and the _perfections of intellect_, and yet now takes advantage of his rank, of his _supporters_, of the cry of his partisans, to bear down the voice of reason?--'Let not the compositor go beyond his composing-stick!'--And why not? Why should not he be a judge of writing?" At this reflection, Forester eagerly took up the manuscript, which had been flung at his feet. All his indignant feelings instantly changed into delightful exultation--he saw the hand--he read the name of Henry Campbell. The title of the manuscript was, "_An Essay on the best Method of reforming Abuses_." This was the subject proposed by the society; and Henry had written upon the question with so much moderation, and yet with such unequivocal decision had shown himself the friend of rational liberty, that all the members of the society who were not borne away by their prejudices were unanimous in their preference of this performance. Random's declamation only inflamed the minds of his own partisans. Good judges of writing exclaimed, as they read it, "This is all very fine; but what would this man be at? His violence hurts the cause he wishes to support." Forester read Henry Campbell's essay with all the avidity of friendship; he read it again and again--his generous soul was incapable of envy; and whilst he admired, he was convinced by the force of reason. His master desired that he would set about the essay early in the morning; but his eagerness for his friend Henry's fame was such, that he sat up above half the night hard at work at it. He was indefatigable the next day at the business; and as all hands were employed on the essay, it was finished that evening. Forester rubbed his hands with delight, when he had set the name of Henry Campbell in the title-page--but an instant afterwards he sighed bitterly. "I am only a printer," said he to himself. "These just arguments, these noble ideas, will instruct and charm hundreds of my fellow-creatures: no one will ever ask, 'Who set the types?'"