Thanks to the Doctor's liberality in the matter of my weekly board, tea was now a luxury in which we could sometimes indulge. Nothing gave Mrs. Esther more gratification than the return, after long deprivation, to that polite beverage. At about five o'clock the poet made his appearance. He was short of stature, with a turned-up nose, and was dressed in a drab-coloured coat, with bag-wig, and shoes with steel buckles. Everything that he wore had once been fine, but their splendour was faded now; his linen was in rags, his shoes in holes; but he carried himself with pride. His dignity did not depend upon his purse; he bore his head high, because he thought of his fame. It inflicted no wound to his pride to remember that he had that day been on the eve of starvation, and was still without a farthing. "Miss Kitty," he said, bowing very low, "you see before you one who, though a favourite of the Muses, is no favourite of Fortune: ''Gainst hostile fate his heart is calm the while, Though Fortune frown, the tuneful sisters smile.' Poetry, ladies, brings with it the truest consolation." "And religion," said Mrs. Esther. "There lives not--be sure--the wretch," cried the poet, "who would dissociate religion and the Muse." This was very grand, and pleased us all. We had our dish of tea, with bread and butter. I went on cutting it for the poet till the loaf was quite gone. During the evening he gave utterance to many noble sentiments--so noble, indeed, that they seemed to me taken out of books. And before he went away he laid down his views as to the profession of letters, of which I have already spoken, perhaps, too severely. "It is the mission of the poet and author," he said, "to delight, and to improve while delighting. The man of science may instruct; the poet embodies the knowledge, and dresses it up in a captivating way to attract the people: the divine teaches the dogmas of the Church; the poet conveys, in more pleasing form, the lessons and instructions of religion: the philosopher and moralist lay down the laws of our being; the author, by tropes and figures, by fiction, by poetry, shows the proper conduct of life, and teaches how the way of virtue leads to happiness. Is not this a noble and elevating career? Does not a man do well who says to himself, 'This shall be my life; this my lot?'" He paused, and we murmured assent to his enthusiasm. "It is true," he went on, "that the ungrateful world thinks little of its best friends; that it allows me--_me_, Solomon Stallabras, to languish in the Rules of the Fleet. Even that, however, has its consolation; because, ladies, it has brought me the honour and happiness of your friendship." He rose, saluted us all three in turn, and sat down again.