this occasion. I am sure I would do as much for the Duchess of Queensberry if she desired it. Several of your friends assure me it is expected of you. One should not bear in mind all one's life any little indignity one receives from a Court, and therefore I am in hopes neither her grace will hinder you nor you decline it."

This was certainly surprising advice from one who was continually abusing the Court and all connected with it, and advising his friends to despise it as much as he himself did.1 We have seen how warmly he had approved of Gay's refusal of a "place" that he thought unworthy his deserts. Considering, moreover, that Gay's generous patrons, the Queenberrys, had retired from the Court on his account, he would have been strangely lacking in taste if he had panegyrised the queen while he was still enjoying their protection and hospitality.

Johnny" presumably took this view, for he replied to Pope's suggestion in a tone of most unusual chilliness:

"As to your advice about writing panegyric, it is what I have not frequently done. I have indeed done it sometimes against my judgment and inclination, and I heartily repent of it. And at present, as I have no desire of reward, and see no just reason of praise, I think I had better let it alone. There are flatterers good enough to be

1 Gay preserved, almost throughout his life, a naive belief in the transcendent delights of a court life. Thus à propos of a report of Mrs. Howard's high health and spirits, he observed: "Considering the multiplicity of pleasures and delights that one is overrun with in those places, I wonder how anybody has health and spirits to support them."

found, and I would not interfere in any gentleman's profession."

Gay's health was rapidly failing. He had long suffered from internal troubles, and, after a brief illness, he died on December 4, 1732, aged only 44. His death was a heavy blow to Pope, to whom Gay's cheerful temper and gentle, engaging ways had greatly endeared him. On December 5 Pope sent the sad news to Swift:

"One of the nearest and longest ties I have ever had is broken all on a sudden by the unexpected death of poor Mr. Gay. An inflammatory fever hurried him out of this life in three days. He died last night at nine o'clock, not deprived of his senses entirely at last, and possessing them perfectly till within five hours. He asked of you a few hours before, when in acute torment by the inflammation in his bowels and heart. His effects are in the Duke of Queensberry's custody. His sisters, we suppose, will be his heirs, who are two widows.1 As yet it is not known whether or no he left a will. Good God! how often are we to die before we go off this stage? . . . I shall never see you now, I believe one of your principal calls to England is at an end. Indeed he was the most amiable by far, his qualities were the gentlest; but I love you as well and as firmly. Would to God the man we have lost had not been so amiable nor so good; but that is a wish for our own sakes, not for his."

The distress caused to Pope by the loss of one of his dearest friends was aggravated by the severe 1 Gay left about £6,000,

From a mezzotint engraving by F. Milvus after a painting by W. Aikman.

JOHN GAY.

illness of Martha Blount. It was supposed that the news of Gay's sudden death gave her a shock which brought on a serious indisposition. Arbuthnot, who attended both invalids, was able to pull Patty through, in spite of what Pope considered the callous inconsiderateness of her family. As a matter of fact, her mother and sister seem to have held theories about fresh air and cleanliness which were nearly two hundred years in advance of their age.

"During her whole illness," relates Pope, "during which her recovery depended on her being kept warm, the worthy family set open all their windows and doors, and washed the house and stairs, to her very door, twice in a week; and had a constant clatter of doors and removal of chairs, and all the noise that could possibly be made, while she was ordered to be composed to rest by the doctor. This I saw and heard, and so did Dr. Arbuthnot, who very humorously asked, as he went up and down their stairs, why they did not sell and make money of their sashes, and leave the windows quite open." 1

1 The exaggeration is obvious. If the behaviour of her family had really endangered Patty's life, as Pope suggests, a physician of Arbuthnot's character and standing would certainly not have treated the matter humorously.