o means indifferent to the censure of his best friend Mr
Barrett. The good surgeon sent for him to his house, and then said that,
after a consultation with all his friends, there seemed no alternative
but to agree to Mr Lambert's giving up the indentures, and getting rid
of him.

Mr Barrett had ever a kindly feeling for the wild, undisciplined boy,
whose genius he recognised although he had not measured the extent of
his powers. Perhaps he knew how to awake in the boy poet his best and
higher nature, for instead of receiving his reproofs and advice in a
defiant manner he melted into tears, confessed that pride, his
unconquerable pride, was his worst enemy, and that he would try to learn
humility. The mention of his mother's distress affected him more than
anything, and Mr Barrett, saw him depart with a sad heart.

Of all his other friends, perhaps the kindly good-natured George Catcott
was the most sorely troubled. But this Easter week in Bristol was one of
great excitement, and the worthy citizens were all much occupied with
their views of the great event of the time.

On Tuesday, the 17th of April, Mr Wilkes was released from prison, and
all the advanced Liberals of the ancient city were to make themselves
merry at the Crown Inn in honour of their hero's triumphant release.

Bristol has always been foremost in hero-worship, though too often the
Dagon at whose feet it has lain has, like Mr Wilkes, been a poor
creature after all, and has fallen from his pedestal and broken himself
to pieces.

As Chatterton was pacing the familiar streets, and with alternate fits
of hope and the most cruel despair thinking out his future, he passed
the Crown Inn, in the passage from Bond Street to Gower Lane.

Sounds of revelry and merry voices struck his ear, and he paused to
listen.

There were several other hangers-on in the precincts of the inn, and
they were discussing Wilkes and liberty, and the freedom of the subject,
with all the keen zest of those within.

A woman jostled against Chatterton, and raised herself on tiptoe, hoping
to see something through the crack in the red curtain which hung over
the window of the large room where the revellers were gathered. She was
poor and ragged, and the goodly smell of the viands made her exclaim,--

'What a dinner they be having, while hundreds are starving. Ah! starving
is hard work!'

Chatterton heard the words and said,--

'Aye, my good woman, you are right,' and then he pu