GARDIN ER. 175 the streets paved with gold!!! struck my fancy. I adventured thither, and being without any practicable talents, I of course wandered about some time without a plan. Chance led me to connect myself with a Mr. Jones in the Strand, who made what he called “reflecting mirrors,' and cut profile shades in brass foil, which were denominated “polite remem brances to friends;’ my employ was to daub the portraits of any who were fools enough to sit to me. At this employment I got, most justly, neither praise nor profit. Falling in with a Mr. Davis, one of Foote's performers, who was endeavouring to establish a theatre at Mile-end, I listed as scene painter and actor, playing generally comedy, occasionally tragedy, and was thought to have some, though, I believe, very little merit. The magis trates having interfered, the scheme was broken up, and my last theatrical effort was made as Darby, in the Poor Soldier, in the Haymarket, which they said was not i l l done; but acting was t o me i t s own reward, which not suiting the state either o f my finances o r my stomach, induced me t o serve a Mrs. Beetham, i n Fleet-street, who had a t that time a prodigious run for black profile shades; my business was t o give them the a i r o f figures i n shade, rather than the blank black masses which were customary. About this time the celebrated antiquarian, Captain Grose, took me u p
and observing that I had not talents t o make a n eminent painter, but that I might succeed a s a n engraver, h e placed me with Mr. Godfrey, the en graver o f the ‘Antiquarian Repertory.' I served him some time; but, a s h e was merely a n engraver o f Antiquities, I learned little from him. At my leisure I had engraved a n original design (stolen from Cipriani) o f “Shep herd Joe, i n “Poor Vulcan.” Chance led me with this for sale t o the newly-opened shop o f Messrs. Silvester and Edward Harding, i n Fleet street; and a connection ensued, which lasted through my best days, There I engraved many things o f fancy materials: and also a s many a s time allowed o f their Illustrations o f Shakspeare—the principal part o f the Economy o f Human Life—and a s many a s I could o f the Memoirs d e Grammont; some o f the plates t o Lady d e Beauclerk's edition o f Dryden's Fables were entirely my own, and many o f those with the name o f Barto lozzi affixed were mine. I should have mentioned, that, a long time before, Bartolozzi was satisfied with my work, and listed me among the number o f his pupils; I prepared for him several plates, published b y Macklin. I believe I was inferior only t o Bartolozzi, Schiavonetti, and Tomkins, o f that day; but I never liked the profession o f engraving. Gay, volatile, and lively a s a lark, the process o f the copper never suited me. Under propitious circumstances, my talents would have led me, perhaps, a s an historical painter, t o do something worth remembrance. An unfor, tunate summons from my father led me t o forsake their mansion and return t o Dublin, where I only squandered my money and injured my health. Once more i n London, I took lodgings i n the house o f Mr. Good, a sta tioner, i n Bond-street: when, a s the devil would have i t , a new-married couple came t o live a t the back o f us; they determined t o give a dashing entertainment t o the Prince o f Wales and the nobility, and then retire t o domesticate o n their “dirty acres.” For this purpose they erected a tem porary apartment over their own yard and ours, approaching within half
