"Therefore I aspired to see mine in Print; inscribed not to some bloated Peer, more competent to decide on the Merits of a Pipe of _Bordeaux_ than of an Ode by _Horace_, but to some one whose Genius and turn of Thought I sincerely admired." "Mr. _Fenwick_, have you a private Fortune?" "Oh no, Sir ... only a poor Curacy of fifty Pounds a Year." "Your Tastes are expensive, let me tell you, for a poor Man. Had you writ your Dedication to my Lord _Earlstoke_ instead of to me, he might have given you twenty Pounds!" "I would rather have burned my Poem." "Sir _Charles Sefton_ might have given you thirty." "But had I said to him what I have said to you, it would have been a Lie." "Pooh! you are too nice. Why, Man, I have writ Dedications myself. I know the Market-Value of these Things. Moreover, the Booksellers will laugh at you, and probably will refuse to print." "Well, Sir, no great Harm done; I shall be disappointed, but not heartbroken. Happy for me, I am not writing for Bread." "Hark ye, Mr. _Fenwick_--" And I could not catch the Sense nor Connexion of what followed. Mr. _Caryl_ seemed to lead away quite from the Subject in Hand to College Matters, and asking Mr. _Fenwick's_ Opinion about this and t'other Poet; for such I took 'em to be, because they got upon such Names as _Lucretius_ and _Catullus_, and others ending in _us_, the which I had seen tagged to the Mottoes of the _Tatler_ and _Spectator_. And they seemed to talk over their Merits, and declare their own Opinions of them, which did not agree, because I heard Mr. _Caryl_ laugh at Mr. _Fenwick_ for battling so stoutly with his _Patron_. Then they got on to _Greek_ Play-Writers, I think, and seemed more of a Mind, and to warm mightily and spout favourite Passages, each inciting and kindling the other, so that 'twas quite pleasant to hear 'em, even without understanding a Word of what they were saying; and I was glad Mr. _Fenwick_ had Company so much to his Mind, that would make the Morning fly away so fast; and only hoped he might not over-exert himself, and suffer for it afterwards. Then I fell to thinking that if such were his Tastes and Capacities, what a wide, wide Barrier there must be between his cultivated Mind and our uncultivated Minds, and how trite and poor must seem to him the very best Remarks that we could offer! And while I was pursuing this Thought, and forgetting to hearken to their Discourse, I was recalled to it all at once by hearing Mr. _Caryl_ say, "This won't do; I must be off. Good Day, Sir!" And, in shaking Hands with Mr. _Fenwick_, I suppose he endeavoured to leave a Purse in his Hand; for I heard Mr. _Fenwick_ quite energetically say: "Oh no! No indeed! I cannot think of it for a Moment! It must not be so!" And the other; "Nay, but it _must_ be so! For once, you must flatter my Vanity by letting me fancy myself a Lord _Earlstoke_."