lost a friend. On the contrary, he was a
universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the
choicest spirits of the time,--Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the
better brothers." His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly
affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his
temper. In worldly matters Gay was not fortunate. Possessed, at one
time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth
twenty thousand pounds. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes
vanished with it. Neither did his interest,--which was by no means
inconsiderable,--nor his general popularity, procure him the preferment
he desired. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to
see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.

Places, I found, were daily given away,
And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay.

The prodigious success of the "Beggars' Opera," which was produced about
four years after the date of this history, rewarded him for all his
previous disappointments, though it did not fully justify the well-known
epigram, alluding to himself and the manager, and "make Gay _rich_, and
Rich _gay_." At the time of his present introduction, his play of "The
Captives," had just been produced at Drury Lane, and he was meditating
his "Fables," which were published two years afterwards.

Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. The eminent painter had
handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of
dignity in his manner. His age was not far from fifty. He was
accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his
easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint
box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most
assiduous attention. This young man, whose features, though rather plain
and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark
gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey
twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the
honoured name of William Hogarth. Why he paid so much attention to Sir
James Thornhill may be explained anon.

The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man,
with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut
and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which
an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he concei