George Morland 



servant who can turn his hand at any servile job, and suffer 

 all the temper, abuse, and contempt of a master vi^ith dog-like 



fidelity. 



From the time of his coming to Camden Town, Brooks was an 

 inseparable companion of our artist. He drank with him, pandered 

 to his vices and laughed at his jokes in good fortune; he cooked his 

 kippers and cleaned his boots, and kept his creditors from the door 

 in bad fortune. He followed his patron into hiding and into prison, 

 and in fact was an indispensable servant to the man, who, in many 

 respects, was as helpless and as dependent upon such a slave and 

 drudge as a spoilt child. Morland's relations with him remind one 

 uncommonly of the companionship between Roderick Random and 

 Strap, the journeyman barber. 



Although the artist was by this time a man of considerable 

 reputation in his profession, and sold his pictures as fast as he 

 painted them, he had already entered into the financial quagmire 

 which was eventually to overwhelm him. Surrounded, as we have 

 seen, by rogues who became art-dealers because he played into 

 their hands, so that he seldom received the full or proper price for 

 his work, he also threw his money away in the most wanton and 

 riotous manner, and was further impoverished by a reckless 

 generosity to those who sponged upon him. He fell into debt with 

 all his tradesmen, and borrowed money from chance acquaintances, 

 which he found it difficult or impossible to repay when his bills 

 fell due. His success and also his splendid good nature kept these 

 creditors quiet for some time, and there is a good story told of how 

 he got on the soft side of a worthy tallow-chandler, who had been 

 fretful at Morland's long delay in redeeming a loan. He was 

 invited to a friendly game of skittles, for which he had a passion, 

 and when he was winning, and cheerful, his attention was directed 

 to the lugubrious face of the artist. Upon enquiring the cause he 

 learnt that Morland was dejected because he could see no way of 

 paying back the borrowed money. The tallow-chandler's heart 

 was touched, and he straightway cancelled the debt. But, alas ! 

 all men were not tallow-chandlers ; and bakers, butchers, and others 

 more brutal, now called for a day of reckoning ! Morland did not 

 wait for it. With the aid of Brooks he smuggled out his furniture, 



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