But no; the gentle Rector would not be brought to book, or at any rate not to that book; and the author had sense enough to know without a wink that his volume had won volumes of dislike.
Parnassus could never have lived till now without two heads--one to carry on with, while the other is being thumped to pieces.

While the critics demolish one peak, the poet withdraws to the other, and assures himself that the general public, the larger voice of the nation, will salute him there.

But alas, Frank Darling had just discovered that even that eminence was not his, except as a desert out of human sight.

For he had in his pocket a letter from his publishers, received that dreary morning, announcing a great many copies gone gratis, six sold to the trade at a frightful discount, and six to the enterprising public.

All these facts combined to make him feel uncommonly sad and sore to-day.
A man of experience could have told him that this disappointment was for his good; but he failed to see it in that light, and did not bless the blessing.