[P.M. April 5, 1800.]

C.L.'s moral sense presents her compliments to Doctor Manning, is very
thankful for his medical advice, but is happy to add that her disorder
has died of itself.

Dr. Manning, Coleridge has left us, to go into the north, on a visit to
his god Wordsworth. With him have flown all my splendid prospects of
engagement with the "Morning Post," all my visionary guineas, the
deceitful wages of unborn scandal. In truth, I wonder you took it up so
seriously. All my intention was but to make a little sport with such
public and fair game as Mr. Pitt, Mr. Wilberforce, Mrs. Fitzherbert, the
Devil, &c.--gentry dipped in Styx all over, whom no paper javelin-lings
can touch. To have made free with these cattle, where was the harm?
'twould have been but giving a polish to lampblack, not nigrifying a
negro primarily. After all, I cannot but regret my involuntary virtue.
Damn virtue that's thrust upon us; it behaves itself with such
constraint, till conscience opens the window and lets out the goose.

I had struck off two imitations of Burton, quite abstracted from any
modern allusions, which it was my intent only to lug in from time to
time to make 'em popular. Stuart has got these, with an introductory
letter; but, not hearing from him, I have ceased from my labours, but I
write to him today to get a final answer. I am afraid they won't do for
a paper. Burton is a scarce gentleman, not much known; else I had done
'em pretty well.

I have also hit off a few lines in the name of Burton, being a conceit
of "Diabolic Possession." Burton was a man often assailed by deepest
melancholy, and at other times much given to laughing and jesting, as is