reading-room admired it. Cawthorn tells me it is universally well
spoken of, not only among his own customers, but generally at all the
booksellers. I heard it highly praised at my own publisher's, where I
have lately called several times. At Phillips's it was read aloud by
Pratt to a circle of literary guests, who were unanimous in their
applause:--The _Anti-jacobin_, as well as the _Gentleman's Magazine_,
has already blown the trump of fame for you. We shall see it in the
other Reviews next month, and probably in some severely handled,
according to the connection of the proprietors and editors with those
whom it lashes."

On his arrival in London, towards the end of April, he found the first
edition of his poem nearly exhausted; and set immediately about
preparing another, to which he determined to prefix his name. The
additions he now made to the work were considerable,--near a hundred
new lines being introduced at the very opening[103],--and it was not
till about the middle of the ensuing month that the new edition was
ready to go to press. He had, during his absence from town, fixed
definitely with his friend, Mr. Hobhouse, that they should leave
England together on the following June, and it was his wish to see the
last proofs of the volume corrected before his departure.

Among the new features of this edition was a Post-script to the
Satire, in prose, which Mr. Dallas, much to the credit of his
discretion and taste, most earnestly entreated the poet to suppress.
It is to be regretted that the adviser did not succeed in his efforts,
as there runs a tone of bravado through this ill-judged effusion,
which it is, at all times, painful to see a brave man assume. For
instance:--"It may be said," he observes, "that I quit England because
I have censured these 'persons of honour and wit about town;' but I am
coming back again, and their vengeance will keep hot till my return.
Those who know me can testify that my motives for leaving England are
very different from fears, literary or personal; those who do not may
be one day convinced. Since the publication of this thing, my name has
not been concealed; I have been mostly in London, ready to answer for
my transgressions, and in daily expectation of sundry cartels; but,
alas, 'the age of chivalry is over,' or, in the vulgar tongue, there
is no spirit now-a-days."

But, whatever may have been the faults or indiscretions of this
Satire, there are few who would now sit in