umber of his friends daily decreasing, perhaps, without
suspecting for what reason their conduct was altered; for he still
continued to harass, with his nocturnal intrusions, those that yet
countenanced him, and admitted him to their houses.

But he did not spend all the time of his residence at Bristol, in visits
or at taverns; for he sometimes returned to his studies, and began
several considerable designs. When he felt an inclination to write, he
always retired from the knowledge of his friends, and lay hid in an
obscure part of the suburbs, till he found himself again desirous of
company, to which it is likely that intervals of absence made him more
welcome.

He was always full of his design of returning to London, to bring his
tragedy upon the stage; but, having neglected to depart with the money
that was raised for him, he could not afterwards procure a sum
sufficient to defray the expenses of his journey; nor, perhaps, would a
fresh supply have had any other effect than by putting immediate
pleasures in his power, to have driven the thoughts of his journey out
of his mind.

While he was thus spending the day in contriving a scheme for the
morrow, distress stole upon him by imperceptible degrees. His conduct
had already wearied some of those, who were at first enamoured of his
conversation; but he might, perhaps, still have devolved to others, whom
he might have entertained with equal success, had not the decay of his
clothes made it no longer consistent with their vanity to admit him to
their tables, or to associate with him in publick 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 complete his misery, he was pursued by the officers, for small debts
which he had contracted; and was, therefore, 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 fasted so long, that he was
seized with faintness, and had lost h