Long in the noisy town have been immured,
Respired its smoke, and all its cares endured.
Where news and politics divide mankind,
And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind.[4]

Gay was then, as ever, a great eater. "As the French philosopher used
to prove his existence by _cogito, ergo sum_," Congreve wrote to Pope
long after, "the greatest proof of Gay's existence is _edit, ergo
est_."[5] He ate in excess always, and not infrequently drank too
much, and for exercise had no liking, though he was not averse from a
ramble around London streets. As the years passed, he became fat, but
found comfort in the fact that some of his intimates were yet more
corpulent. To this, he made humorous reference in "Mr. Pope's Welcome
from Greece":--

And wondering Maine so fat, with laughing eyes,
(Gay, Maine and Cheney,[6] boon companions dear,
Gay fat, Maine fatter, and Cheney huge of size).

Gay had a passion for finery. To this foible Pope, in the early days of
his acquaintance with the young man, made reference in a letter to
Swift, December 8th, 1713: "One Mr. Gay, an unhappy youth, who writes
pastorals during the time of Divine Service, whose case is the more
deplorable, as he hath miserably lavished away all that silver he should
have reserved for his soul's health, in buttons and loops for his
coat." Gay was not only well aware of this weakness, but he deplored it,
though he could never contrive to overcome it. He made allusion to it in
some lines known as the "Epigrammatical Petition," addressed to Lord
Oxford,[7] in June, 1714, and also in the prologue to "The Shepherd's
Week":--