a
subscription was paid him, he went to a tavern; and, as money so
collected is necessarily received in small sums, he never was able to
send his poems to the press, but, for many years, continued his
solicitation, and squandered whatever he obtained.

The project of printing his works was frequently revived; and, as his
proposals grew obsolete, new ones were printed with fresher dates. To
form schemes for the publication, was one of his favourite amusements;
nor was he ever more at ease than when, with any friend who readily fell
in with his schemes, he was adjusting the print, forming the
advertisements, and regulating the dispersion of his new edition, which
he really intended, some time, to publish; and which, as long experience
had shown him the impossibility of printing the volume together, he, at
last, determined to divide into weekly or monthly numbers, that the
profits of the first might supply the expenses of the next.

Thus he spent his time in mean expedients and tormenting suspense,
living, for the greatest part, in the fear of prosecutions from his
creditors, and, consequently, skulking in obscure parts of the town, of
which he was no stranger to the remotest corners. But, wherever he came,
his address secured him friends, whom his necessities soon alienated; so
that he had, perhaps, a more numerous acquaintance than any man ever
before attained, there being scarcely any person eminent on any account
to whom he was not known, or whose character he was not, in some degree,
able to delineate.

To the acquisition of this extensive acquaintance every circumstance of
his life contributed. He excelled in the arts of conversation, and,
therefore, willingly practised them. He had seldom any home, or even a
lodging, in which he could be private; and, therefore, was driven into
publick-houses for the common conveniences of life and supports of
nature. He was always ready to comply with every invitation, having no
employment to withhold him, and often no money to provide for himself;
and, by dining with one company, he never failed of obtaining an
introduction into another.

Thus dissipated was his life, and thus casual his subsistence; yet did
not the distraction of his views hinder him from reflection, nor the
uncertainty of his condition depress his gaiety. When he had wandered
about without any fortunate adventure by which he was led into a tavern,
he sometimes retired into the fields, and was able to employ