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And now, alas! the drink has credit got, And he's no gentleman that drinks it not.
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Rainbow
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Homer, lived in a shop between the two Temple gates (No. 16). In an inimitable letter to the Earl of Burlington, Pope has described how Lintot (Tonson's rival) overtook him once in Windsor Forest, as he was riding down to Oxford. When they were resting under a tree in the forest, Lintot, with a keen eye to business, pulled out
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and said to Pope,
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What if you amused yourself in turning an ode till we mount again? The poet smiled, but said nothing. Presently they remounted, and as they rode on Lintot stopped short, and broke out, after a long silence:
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Well, sir, how far have we got?
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Seven miles, replied Pope, naïvely. He told Pope that by giving the hungry critics a dinner of a piece of beef and a pudding, he could make them see beauties in any author he chose. After all, Pope did well with Lintot, for he gained £5,320 by his
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Homer. Dr. Young, the poet, once unfortunately sent to Lintot a letter meant for Tonson, and the first words that Lintot read were:
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That Bernard Lintot is so great a scoundrel. In the same shop, which was then occupied by Jacob Robinson, the publisher, Pope first met Warburton. An interesting account of this meeting is given by Sir John Hawkins, which it may not be out of place to quote here.
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The friendship of Pope and Warburton, he says,
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Essay on Man,
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The Divine Legation of Moses.
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At the Middle Temple Gate, Benjamin Motte, successor to Ben Tooke, published Swift's
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Gulliver's Travels,
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Letters give us many curious pictures of his time, saw a huge monument to four of the Oxenham family, at the death of each of whom a white bird appeared fluttering about their bed. These miraculous occurrences had taken place at a town near Exeter, and the witnesses names duly appeared below the epitaph. No. 197 was afterwards Rackstrow's museum of natural curiosities and anatomical figures; and the proprietor put Sir Isaac Newton's head over the door for a sign. Among other prodigies was the skeleton of a whale more than seventy feet long. Donovan, a naturalist, succeeded Rackstrow (who died in 1772) with his London museum. Then, by a harlequin change, No. 197 became the office of the _Albion_ newspaper. Charles Lamb was turned over to this journal from the _Morning Post_. The editor, John Fenwick, the
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Bigot of Lamb's
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Essay, was a needy, sanguine man, who had purchased the paper of a person named Lovell, who had stood in the pillory for a libel against the Prince of Wales. For a long time Fenwick contrived to pay the Stamp Office dues by money borrowed from compliant friends.
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We, says Lamb, in his delightful way,