were excellent, ‘there seemed to be a tacit agreement among the guests that mind should predominate over body.’ A livelier account of these irregular and often improvised entertainments is given by John Courtenay, M.P. (see Preface to Sir James Macintosh's Poetical Review of Dr. Johnson's Character), who tells us that the table prepared for seven or eight was often made to accommodate twice the number; that there was a deficiency of knives, forks, plates, and glasses, and every one called as he wanted for bread, wine, or beer, and lustily, or there was little chance of being served; while amid the bustle Sir Joshua sat composed, always attentive to what was said, by help of his trumpet, never minding what was eaten or drunk, but leaving every one at liberty to scramble for himself. His dinner hour, which had been four o'clock in Great Newport Street, was now five. There was supper afterwards, but this Sir Joshua never took. He had now or shortly afterwards a villa at Richmond, close to the Star and Garter, where he often used to give dinners on Sunday in the summer, if he did not dine with one of his neighbouring friends, Owen Cambridge, George Colman, Mrs. Clive, or his old master, Hudson. In 1770 he spent a few days in York, perhaps with the poet Mason, and in September he paid a visit to Devonshire, where he appears to have taken his part in hunting and other field sports. He brought back with him Mary Theophila (Offy) Palmer (second daughter of his sister, Mrs. Mary Palmer [q. v.], lately widowed), then thirteen years old, who lived with him (except for eight months in 1773) till she married Robert Lovell Gwatkin in 1781. On his return he painted the king and queen. He had painted George III once when Prince of Wales, but never since his accession; and on the death of Shackleton in 1767, George III had appointed Allan Ramsay as court painter. It was no doubt on account of this neglect that Reynolds made it a condition of his acceptance of the presidentship of the academy that he should paint both king and queen. After this George III only once sat to him, and that was nine years afterwards, for a picture to be preserved by the academy itself, a purpose for which he could scarcely have chosen any other painter. The exhibition of 1771, besides the pictures already mentioned, contained a portrait of his niece, Theophila Palmer, reading ‘Clarissa,’ and the famous one of Mrs. Abington as Prue in ‘Love for Love.’ In this year James Northcote [q. v.], his favourite pupil and future biographer, came to live with Sir Joshua as pupil and assistant. He was now a frequent visitor at the Thrales', and began the fine series of portraits of eminent men which made the Streatham gallery famous. They included himself, Johnson, Goldsmith, Burke, Garrick, Chambers, Baretti, Dr. Burney, Arthur Murphy, Lord Sandys, and Lord Lyttelton.
Among the six pictures sent to the academy in 1772 were Mrs. Crewe as ‘St. Geneviève,’ Miss Meyer as ‘Hebe,’ Mrs. Quarrington as ‘St. Agnes,’ and Dr. Robertson, the historian. He was this year elected an alderman of Plympton. Next year (1773) was a notable one in many ways. The exhibition—besides the Sir Joseph Banks, Garrick and his wife, the Duchess of Cumberland, and other fine portraits, and a second ‘Nymph and Bacchus’ (the nymph being this time Mrs. Hartley, the actress), contained the ‘Ugolino’ and the ‘Strawberry Girl’—both regarded as his most successful pictures in their very different classes. The latter was one of the many fancy pictures in which he introduced the pretty face of Offy, this year joined by her elder sister, Mary Palmer, who, with the exception of three years, lived with her uncle till his death. In June he stayed with Thomas Fitzmaurice, the brother of Lord Shelburne, in the Isle of Wight, and saw the fleet reviewed by the king. In July he went to Oxford and received from the university the honorary degree of D.C.L. In September he was chosen mayor of Plymouth, and went there to take the oaths. On his return, meeting the king accidentally at Richmond, he told his majesty that the honour of being elected mayor of his native town gave him more pleasure than any other he had ever received in his life, but, recollecting himself, added immediately, ‘Except that which your Majesty was graciously pleased to confer on me.’ It was about this time that he proposed that abortive scheme for the decoration of St. Paul's Cathedral by the leading artists of the day which was supported by the king, the archbishop of Canterbury, the dean of St. Paul's, and the whole force of academicians, but defeated by the bigotry of one man—Dr. Terrick, bishop of London, who declared that as long as he lived ‘he would never suffer the doors of the Metropolitan Church to be opened for the introduction of Popery.’
To the exhibition of 1774 he sent thirteen pictures, including the very fine portrait of Baretti (for Mrs. Thrale), one of the little Princess Sophia, a vigorous ‘Infant Jupiter,’ and two large groups, now in the National Gallery: ‘The Graces decorating a terminal figure of Hymen’ (exhibited as ‘Three Ladies
