couraging, and the next day's record is one
of even worse omen. The poet thanks Heaven that his spirits are not
affected by Mr. Dodsley's refusal, and that he is already preparing
another poem for another bookseller, Mr. Becket. He adds, however: "I
find myself under the disagreeable necessity of vending or pawning some
of my more useless articles: accordingly have put into a paper such as
cost about two or three guineas, and, being silver, have not greatly
lessened in their value. The conscientious pawnbroker allowed me--'he
_thought_ he _might'_--half a guinea for them. I took it very readily,
being determined to call for them very soon, and then, if I afterwards
wanted, carry them to some less voracious animal of the kind."

The entries during the next six weeks continue of the same tenor. Mr.
Becket, for whose approval were sent "Poetical Epistles, with a preface
by the learned Martinus Scriblerus" (he was still harping on the string
of the Augustans), proved no more responsive than Dodsley, "'Twas a very
pretty thing, but, sir, these little pieces the town do not regard." By
May 16th he had "sold his wardrobe, pawned his watch, was in debt to his
landlord, and finally at some loss how to eat a week longer." Two days
later he had pawned his surgical instruments--redeemed and repawned his
watch on more favourable terms--and was rejoiced to find himself still
the possessor of ten shillings. He remained stout of heart--his faith in
Providence still his strong comfort--and the Vickery family, though he
must have been constantly in their debt, were unfailingly kind and
hospitable. He was also appealing to the possible patrons of literature
among the leading statesmen of the hour. On May 21 we learn that he was
preparing "a book" (which of his many ventures of the hour, is
uncertain), and with it a letter for the Prime Minister, Lord North,
whose relative, Dudley North, had started him on his journey to London.
When, after a fortnight's suspense, this request for assistance had been
refused, he writes yet more urgently to Lord Shelburne (at that time out
of office) complaining bitterly of North's hardness of heart, and
appealing on this occasion to his hoped-for patron both in prose and
verse--

"Ah! Shelburne, blest with all that's good or great,
T' adorn a rich or save a sinking state,
If public Ills engross not all thy care,
Let private Woe assail a patriot's ear,
Pity confined, but not less warm, impar