While Reynolds was in his nineteenth year, a neighbor and acquaintance of the family, observing that a provincial place was too limited a sphere for the proper cultivation of such powers, recommended that the aspiring lad should be placed under proper tuition in London. Accordingly, in the autumn, the future knightly President of the Royal Academy was on his way to the metropolis, and consigned to the care and superintendence of Hudson, who, though at the period much employed in the manufacture of portraits, was not possessed of any surpassing skill or taste in art. A contract was entered into, that if the veteran approved of his pupil’s conduct, he was to retain the latter’s services for a term of four years; but he reserved the power of discharging the assistant at pleasure. Perhaps, in this position Reynolds was merry enough; for there were other youths in Hudson’s studio, and on warm summer days they had opportunities of making agreeable excursions, rambling about the country and admiring the scenery. While thus situated, Reynolds had the gratification of exchanging courtesies with a famous poet, who had aspired, without any particular success, to excellence in the kindred art of painting. He was attending a public sale of pictures; and just before the hero of the hour raised his voice and brandished his hammer, the name of Pope was passed round, and all respectfully made way for the friend of Bolingbroke. Those who were near held out their hands; and Reynolds being among the number, had the distinction of a gentle shake from those bony fingers which had so often been made the instruments of bitter and brilliant sarcasm. The wheel of time rolled round; the painter, seated among the literary magnates of another generation, still felt pride in relating this interesting little incident; his admiration of the crooked bard was unabated; he was at great pains to procure a fan on which was one of Pope’s efforts in painting; and the recollection of their meeting filled him with satisfaction, even when youths, as in the case of Northcote, were pressing forward, through crowds, to indulge in the luxury of touching his own skirt. Reynolds continued to pursue his artistic career under Hudson’s inspection for two years, during which he drew many heads with so unquestionable a success, that he thereby excited and inflamed the jealousy of his instructor, who foretold, with a pang, that his pupil would yet arrive at rare celebrity. At length he executed the portrait of an elderly domestic, who acted as cook in the establishment, which, on being exhibited in the gallery, was immensely applauded for its superiority of style. The praise was by no means grateful to Hudson’s ear. Perhaps it was more than flesh and blood could reasonably be expected to bear with patience. In any case, he seized upon the first decent pretext to pick a quarrel with the ambitious juvenile.