Although the art of preliminary puffing was as yet in swaddling clothes, so to speak, Mr. Taylor contrived to interest a large number of his acquaintances, some of whom had access to the columns of certain periodicals. Moreover, Mr. Gilchrist’s magazine article had proved a useful forerunner. The book itself was born into a golden clime. The reading world happening to be sick of Metropolitan and modish fare, CLARE’S birds and mayblossoms came as a tonic to all who were desirous of a change. The triumph of the country over the town was of the completest sort; customers poured into Mr. Taylor’s shop in their anxiety to purchase copies of the labourer’s poems; for once the critics and the public were agreed. Journals of fine stature joined with insignificant prints in praising CLARE to the skies, and when this new writer actually succeeded in carrying the defences of the “Quarterly,” it was allowed on all sides that lion-hunters were in luck’s way. CLARE was fortunate in some of his advertisers. Rossini and Madame Vestris brought him into further prominence by means of a musical setting and of recitations at Covent Garden. Genius in hobnailed boots and a smock-frock shouldered aside the more usual figures of literary London. While all this was taking place in Fleet Street, as well as in the aristocratic sections of the capital, rumours of CLARE’S amazing success reached the county residences in the neighbourhood of Helpstone. General Birch Reynardson gave him to eat with his lackeys, and Viscount Milton flung seventeen guineas into his lap with as much feeling as he might have thrown seventeen crumbs to a cur. In great contrast to blue-blooded vulgarity of this stamp was the Marquis of Exeter’s treatment of the poet, although a more liberal display of tact upon his part would have enabled CLARE to leave his mansion with a heart given over completely to joy and gratitude. Friends of _Clare_ are not likely to forget the generosity of the Marquis. An annuity of fifteen guineas for life was indeed a handsome backing of the Muse. Because of this gift Anna Maria Clare was born in wedlock; without it her parents would not have been able to marry as soon as they did. Foolish folk spared the poet none of the customary agonies. He was pestered by inquisitive visitors; collectors of autographs bullied him for his signature, and the owners of albums plagued him to encourage them in their whim. Some persons of the goody-goody type improved the shining hour by sending him an assortment of tracts, the fate of which is wrapped in impenetrable mystery. CLARE was a simple child of nature, certainly, but we may almost take it for granted that he left these precious effusions undigested.