The lively Princess, who was then twenty-six years of age, and had been concerned in bringing out a poem entitled the ‘Birth of Love,’ with engravings from designs by herself, intended to communicate that she had obtained permission to read ‘Camilla,’ though it had not yet been examined by her mother. The subscribers to the new novel exceeded eleven hundred; but the number of copies printed was four thousand. Out of these only five hundred remained at the end of three months—a rate of sale considerably more rapid than that of ‘Cecilia’ had been. Macaulay mentions a rumour that the author cleared more than three thousand guineas by her work. This is not an improbable account; for Dr. Burney told Lord Orford within the first six weeks that about two thousand pounds had already been realized.[117] The material results were astonishing; yet ‘Camilla’ could not be considered a success. The ‘Picture of Youth’ had neither the freshness of ‘Evelina,’ nor the mature power of ‘Cecilia.’ It was wanting alike in simplicity and polish. By disuse of her art, the writer had lost touch with the public; by neglect of reading, she had gone back in literary culture. Hence it was generally felt that the charm which she had exercised was gone. The reviews were severe; new admirers appeared not; old friends found their faith a good deal tried. When the first demand was satisfied, there seems to have been no call for a fresh edition, though some years afterwards Miss Austen boldly coupled[118] ‘Camilla’ with ‘Cecilia’ as a ‘work in which most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour are conveyed to the world.’ When its five volumes were most sharply handled, brother Charles could console the chagrined author with the distich: ‘Now heed no more what critics thought ’em, Since this you know, all people bought ’em.’