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all the charms of conversion could not compensate; for what trader would
purchase such airy satisfaction, with the loss of solid gain, which must
be the consequence of midnight merriment, as those hours which were
gained at night were generally lost in the morning? Distress at last
stole upon him by imperceptible degrees; his conduct had already wearied
some of those who were at first enamoured of his conversation; but he
still might have devolved to others, whom he might have entertained with
equal success, had not the decay of his cloaths made it no longer
consistent with decency to admit him to their tables, or to associate
with him in public places. He now began to find every man from home, at
whose house he called; and was therefore no longer able to procure the
necessaries of life, but wandered about the town, slighted and
neglected, in quest of a dinner, which, he did not always obtain. To
compleat his misery, he was obliged to withdraw from the small number of
friends from whom he had still reason to hope for favours. His custom
was to lie in bed the greatest part of the day, and to go out in the
dark with the utmost privacy, and after having paid his visit, return
again before morning to his lodging, which was in the garret of an
obscure inn.
Being thus excluded on one hand, and confined on the other, he suffered
the utmost extremities of poverty, and often waited so long, that he was
seized with faintness, and had lost his appetite, not being able to bear
the smell of meat, 'till the action of his stomach was restored by a
cordial.
He continued to bear these severe pressures, 'till the landlady of a
coffee-house, to whom he owed about eight pounds, compleated his
wretchedness. He was arrested by order of this woman, and conducted to
the house of a Sheriff's Officer, where he remained some time at a great
expence, in hopes of finding bail. This expence he was enabled to
support by a present from Mr. Nash of Bath, who, upon hearing of his
late mis-fortune, sent him five guineas. No friends would contribute to
release him from prison at the expence of eight pounds, and therefore he
was removed to Newgate. He bore this misfortune with an unshaken
fortitude, and indeed the treatment he met with from Mr. Dagg, the
keeper of the prison, greatly softened the rigours of his confinement.
He was supported by him at his own table, without any certainty of
recompence; had a room to himself, to which he could at any
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