Paddington, caused our painter to remove to a more convenient spot, at no great distance, Winchester Row, where all the conveniences he could wish were ready for him*. About this period he was advised to make his claim of the dormant title of Sir Samuel Morland, which was his undoubted right, as being the next heir to that ingenious person, mentioned in the first Chapter of this Memoir of his Life. Mr. Wed, his solicitor, having made the proper enquiries, reported his progress in the affair to his friend George; who, upon hearing there was no emolument attached to the dignity of a Baronet, but on the contrary, that he must be at some expence in supporting his new honours, replied—“ Well, Bobby, never mind, there's more honour in being a fine painter, than a fine Lord; and as for tacking Sir to my name, I'll be d-d if I stand a glass of gin for it-plain G. M. will always sell my pictures, and secure them as much. respect all over the world." ANECDOTE IN PROOF OF THE WONDER- IN this comfortable habitation at Winchester Row, we never saw him but twice, -out of a dozen times calling there: he was either gone out riding, had not got out of his bed, or, what was rather new to the enquirer, was denied to him. His extravagance, however, was the theme of the whole neighbourhood; those who were likely to be sufferers by him condemning his conduct in the most severe terms; while others, who reaped the harvest of his ready money profusion, applauded him as the mirror of spirit and generosity. Of the pictures painted here, some were thought of sufficient consequence to be placed in the Morland Gallery in Bond Street; which Gallery of our painter's admirable productions, was afterwards enlarged, and, with the addition of several capital pictures, exhibited at Mr. Smith's, King Street, Covent Garden-one shilling admittance. Several admirable prints from this collection have gratified the public taste; and we should hope the spirit of the publisher will, from the liberal encou-ragement his talents entitle him to, be enabled to complete the whole of these matchless specimens of British genius and industry. While our English genius proceeded in the several pursuits of riding, music, drinking, smoking, and painting; in each of It which he had few competitors, his pictures became every day in higher estimation. The effect of which was, an open dereliction of all œconomical principle, as if he were resolved to insult the public, by shewing them that nothing but shameless profusion could result from their unexampled encouragement. It may be justly questioned, how such a man could find time to acquire the means of all this waste, who was so frequently to be found in the neighbouring houses of entertainment about the quarter he resided. The answer is short; and it is as true as it is concise. In the rapidity of his pencil, he always depended; and till he was incapable of holding it, was never deceived. As a confirmation of the foregoing fact, the following anecdote, as related by an intimate friend, may be depended upon, who saw, but not without astonishment, the whole process. Some time before Morland left Winchester Row he spent an evening, ahout the middle of the week, in company with this gentleman our author's friend, and some others; as they adjourned afterwards to Morland's home, they made an agreement to ride to Otter's Pool on the ensuing Sunday morning. It was agreed to start before twelve in the forenoon, in order to avail themselves of a long ride before dinner; and if the painter failed of being ready to mount his horse when our friend arrived, he was to forfeit half a dozen of wine. A similar fine was to be the consequence, if the latter did not attend at Winchester Row at the -time appointed.. Upon the day, punctually to his time, our friend arrived, and, lighting from his horse, rang the painter's gate bell. When the servant made his appearance, he told the gentleman his master was poorly; and, upon being shewn into the back parlour, he saw Morland in his night-gown and red slippers, sitting at the harpsichord, playing one of his favourite pieces. After amusing himself for a few minutes, they took a turn in the garden; where Morland, with a very grave face, declared he had a very great secret to disclose, which hung so heavy at his heart, that if his friend would suffer James |