[Life And Letters Of John Gay (1685-1732) by Lewis Melville]@TWC D-Link bookLife And Letters Of John Gay (1685-1732) CHAPTER V 5/23
6d. Gay, now a popular dramatist as well as an intimate friend of many of the leading men in literary circles, became known to people of high social rank, who, like his brethren of the pen, took him up and made a pet of him.
In the summer of 1715 Lord Burlington, the "generous Burlington" of "Mr.Pope's Welcome from Greece," invited him to accompany him to Devonshire, and Gay repaid the compliment by describing his "Visit to Exeter" in a poetical "Epistle to the Right Honourable the Earl of Burlington," the first lines of which are:-- While you, my Lord, bid stately piles ascend, Or in your Chiswick bowers enjoy your friend; Where Pope unloads the boughs within his reach, The purple vine, blue plum, and blushing peach; I journey far .-- You know fat bards might tire. And, mounted, sent me forth your trusty squire. During his stay in Devonshire Gay began the composition of "Trivia, or The Art of Walking the Streets of London." It was to this that Pope made allusion when writing to Caryll, January 10th, 1716: "Gay's poem [is] just on the brink of the press, which we have had the interest to procure him subscription of a guinea a book to a tolerable number.
I believe it may be worth L150 to him on the whole."[5] In addition to the subscriptions, Gay received from Lintott L43 for the copyright of the book, the copies of which were sold to the public at one shilling and sixpence each; and as, with humorous exaggeration, Arbuthnot wrote to Parnell: "Gay has got as much money by his 'Art of Walking the Streets' that he is ready to set up his equipage; he is just going to the bank to negotiate some exchange bills."[6] The "Advertisement" prefaced to the poem runs:-- "The world, I believe, will take so little notice of me that I need not take much of it.
The critics may see by this poem that I walk on foot, which probably may save me from their envy.
I should be sorry to raise that passion in men whom I am so much obliged to, since they allowed me an honour hitherto only shown to better writers: that of denying me to be author of my own works.
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