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the necessity of going to prison. The state in last was se'nnight, and where I enjoy myself which he passed his time, and the treatment with much more tranquillity than I have known which he received, are very justly expressed by for upwards of a twelvemonth past; having a him in a letter which he wrote to a friend: room entirely to myself, and pursuing the amuse"The whole day,” says he, “has been employed ment of my poetical studies, uninterrupted, and in various people's filling my head with their agreeably to my mind. I thank the Almighty, I foolish chimerical systems, which has obliged me am now all collected in myself; and, though my coolly (as far as nature will admit) to digest and person is in confinement, my mind can expatiate accommodate myself to every different person's on ample and useful subjects with all the freedom way of thinking; huried from one wild system imaginable. I am now more conversant with to another, till it has quite made a chaos of my the Nine than ever, and if, instead of a Newimagination, and nothing done-promised-dis- gate-bird, I may be allowed to be a bird of the appointed-ordered to send, every hour, from Muses, I assure you, sir, ! sing very freely in my one part of the town to the other."

cage; sometimes, indeed, in the plaintive notes of When his friends, who had hitherto caressed the nightingale; but at others in cheerful strains and applauded him, found that to give bail and of the lark." pay the debt was the same, they all refused to In another etter he observes, that he ranges preserve him from a prison at the expense of from one subject to another, without confining eight pounds; and therefore, after having been himself to any particular task: and that he was for some time at the officer's house, “at an im- employed one week upon one attempt, and the mense expense,” as he observes in his letter, he next upon another. was at length removed to Newgate.

Surely the fortitude of this man deserves, at This expense he was enabled to support by least, to be mentioned with applause; and, the generosity of Mr. Nash at Bath, who, upon whatever faults may be imputed to him, the receiving from him an account of his condition, virtue of suffering well cannot be denied him. immediately sent him five guineas, and pro- The two powers which, in the opinion of Epicmised to promote his subscription at Bath with tetus, constituted a wise man, are those of bearall his interest.

ing and forbearing ; which it cannot indeed be By his removal to Newgate, he obtained at affirmed to have been equally possessed by Sa. least a freedom from suspense, and rest from the vage, and indeed the want of one obliged him disturbing vicissitudes of hope and disappoint- very frequently to practise the other. ment: he now found that his friends were only He was treated by Mr. Dagge, the keeper of companions, who were willing to share his gay, the prison, with great humanity; was supported ety, but not to partake of his misfortunes; and by him at his own table, without any certainty therefore he no longer expected any assistance of recompense; had a room to himself, to which from them.

he could at any time retire from all disturbance; It must, however, be observed of one gentle was allowed to stand at the door of the prison, man, that he offered 10 release him by paying and sometimes taken out into the fields ;t so the deht; but that Mr. Savage would not con- that he suffered fewer hardships in prison than sent; I suppose, because he thought he had be- he had been accustomed to undergo in the grea:'ore been too burdensome to him.

est part of his life. He was offered by some of his friends that a The keeper did not confine his benevolence to collection should be made for his enlargement : a gentle execution of his office, but made some but he “treated the proposal,” and declared* overtures to the creditor for his release, though " he should again treat it with disdain. As to without effect; and continued, during the whole writing any inendicant letters, he had too high time of his imprisonment, to treat him with the a spirit, and determined only to write to some utmost tenderness and civility. ministers of state to try to regain his pension.” Virtue is undoubtedly most laudable in that

He continued to complaint of those that had state which makes it most difficult; and there. sent him into the country, and objected to them, fore the humanity of a gaoler certainly deserves that he had lost the profits of his play, which this public attestation; and the man, whose had been finished three years;" and in another heart has not been hardened by such an emletter declares his resolution to publish a pam- ployment, may be justly proposed as a pattern phlet, that the world might know how “he had of benevolence. If an inscription was once been lised."

engraved “ to the honest toll-gatherer," lese This pamphlet was never written; for he in honours ought not to be paid to the tender a very short time recovered his usual tranquil- gaoler." lity, and cheerfully applied himself to more in- Mr. Savage very frequently received visits offensive sedies.' He indeed steadily declared, and sometimes presents, from his acquaintances; that he was promised a yearly allowance of fifty but they did not amount to a subsistence, for the pounds, and never received half the sum ; but greater part of which he was indebted to the he seemed to resign himself to that as well'as to generosity of this keeper ; but these favours, other mistortunes, and lose the remembrance of however they might endear to him the particulai it in his amusements and employments. persons from whom he received them, were ver

The cheerfulness with which he bore his con- far from impressing upon his mind any advanca finement appears from the following letter, which geous ideas of the people of Bristol, and there he wrote, January the 30th, to one of his friends fore he thought he could not more properry in London.

employ himself in prison, than in writing a poem “I now write to you from my confinement in called “London and Bristol delineated." Newgate, where I have been ever since Monday When he had brought this poem to its presen in a iciter ailer lis Confinement. Dr. J.

See this confirmed, Gent. Mag. vol. Ivii. 1140 -X, Jer, 1911. 11.

The Author preferred this site to that of " LOR

state, which, without considering the chasm, is This performance was however laid aside, not perfect, he wrote to London an account of while he was employed in soliciting assistance his design, and informed his friend,* that he was from several great persons; and one interruption determined to print it with his name; but en succeeding another, hindered him from supply, joined him not to communicate his intention to ing the chasm, and perhaps from retouching the Lis Bristol acquaintance. The gentleman, sur- other parts, which he can hardly be imagined to prised at his resolution, endeavoured to dissuade have finished in his own opinion ; for it is very him from publishing it, at least from prefixing unequal, and some of the lines are rather insert. his name; and declared, that he could not re-ed to rhyme to others, than to support or imconcile the injunction of secrecy with his resolu- prove the sense; but the first and last parts are tion to own it at its first appearance. To this worked up with great spirit and elegance. Mr. Savage returned an answer, agreeable to His time was spent in the prison for the most his character, in the following terms:

part in study, or in receiving visits ; but some"I received yours this morning; and not times he descended to lower amusements, and without a little surprise at the contents. To diverted himself in the kitchen with the conanswer a question with a question, you ask me versation of the criminals ; for it was not pleaconcerning London and Bristol, why will I add sing to him to be much without company; and, delinealed? Why did Mr. Woolaston add the though he was very capable of a judicious choice, same word to his “Religion of Nature ? I he was often contented with the first that offer. suppose that it was his will and pleasure to add ed; for this he was sometimes reproved by his it in his case; and it is mine to do so in my friends, who found him surrounded with felons : own. You are pleased to tell me, that you un- but the reproof was on that, as on other occaderstand not why secrecy is enjoined, and yet sions, thrown away ; he continued to gratify I intend to set my name to it. My answer is himself, and to set very little value on the opinion I have my private reasons, which I am not of others. obliged to explain to any one. You doubt my But here, as in every other scene of his life, friend Mr. S— would not approve of it he made use of such opportunities as occurred of And what is it to me whether he does or not? benefiting those who were more miserable than Do you imagine that Mr. S— is to dictate to himself, and was always ready to perform any me! If any man who calls himself my friend office of humanity to his fellow-prisoners. should assume such an air, I would spurn at He had now ceased from corresponding with his friendship with contempt. You say, I seem any of his subscribers except one, who yet con to think so by not letting him know it-And tinued to remnit him the twenty pounds a year suppose I do, what then? Perhaps I can give which he had promised him, and by whom it reasons for that disapprobation, very foreign was expected that he would have been in a from what you would imagine.-You go on in very short time enlarged, because he had disaying, Suppose I should not put my name to rected the keeper to inquire after the state of his it-My answer is, that I will not suppose any debts. such thing, being determined to the contrary; However, he took care to enter his name ac neither, sir, would I have you suppose that I cording to the forms of the court, that the applied to you for want of another press: nor creditor might be obliged to make some allowkould I have you imagine that I owe Mr. S- ance, if he was continued a prisoner, and, when obligations which I do not.”

on that occasion he appeared in the hall, was Such was his imprudence, and such his obsti- treated with very unusual respect. Date adherence to his own resolutions, however But the resentment of the city was afterabsord! A prisoner! supported by charity! wards raised by some accounts that had been and whatever insults he might have received spread of the satire ; and he was informed that during the latter part of his stay at Bristol, some of the merchants intended to pay the al once caressed, esteemed, and presented with a lowance which the law required, and to detain liberal collection, he could forget on a sudden him a prisoner at their own expense. This bis danger and his obligations, to gratify the he treated as an empty menace; and perhaps petulance of his wit, or the eagerness of his re- might have hastened the publication, only to sentment, and publish a satire, by which he show, how much he was superior to their inmight reasonably expect that he should alienate sults, had not all his schemes been suddenly those who then supported him, and provoke destroyed. those whom he could neither resist nor escape. When he had been six months in prison, he

This resolution, from the execution of which received from one of his friends, in whose it is probable that only his death could have kindness he had the greatest confidence, and on hindered him, is sufficient to show, how much whose assistance he chiefly depended, a letter, he disregarded all considerations that opposed that contained a charge of a very atrocious inhis present passions, and how readily he ha- gratitude, drawn up in such terms as sudden zarded all future advantages for any immediate resentment dictated. Henley, in one of his gratifications. Whatever was his predominant advertisements, had mentioned, “Pope's treatinclination, neither hope nor fear hindered him ment of Savage.” This was supposed by Pope from complying with it ; nor had opposition any to be the consequence of a complaint made by other effect than to heighten his ardour, and Savage to Henley, and was therefore mentioned irritate his vehemence.

by him with much resentment. Mr. Savage returned a very solemn protestation of his inno- neither his judgment nor experience, have pubcence, but however appeared much disturbed at lished, either in ostentation of their sagacity, the accusation. Some days afterwards he was vindication of their crimes, or gratification of seized with a pain in his back and side, which, as their malice. it was not violent, was not suspected to be dan- His method of life particularly qualified him gerous ; but, growing daily more languid and for conversation, of which he knew how to pracJejected, on the 25th of July he confined himself tise all the graces. He was never vehement or lo his room, and a fever seized his spirits. The loud, but at once modest and easy, open and resymptoms grew every day more formidable, but spectful; his language was vivacious and elegant, his condition did not enable him to procure any and equally happy upon grave or humorous sube assistance. The last time that the keeper saw jects. He was generally censured for not knowhim was on July the 31st, 1743; when Savage, ing when to retire ; but that was not the defect seeing him at his bedside, said, with an uncom- of his judgment, but of his fortune : when he left mon earnestness, "I have something to say to his company, he was frequently to spend the you, sir;" but, after a pause, moved his hand in remaining part of the night in the street, or at a melancholy manner; and, finding himself una- least was abandoned to gloomy reflections, ble to recollect what he was going to communi- which it is not strange that he delayed as long cate, said, “'Tis gone!" The keeper soon after as he could; and sometimes forgot that he gave left him; and the next morning he died. He others pain to avoid it himself. was buried in the churchyard of St. Peter, at the It cannot be said, that he made use of his expeuse of the keeper.

and Bristol compared;" which, when he began the piece, he inieoded to prefit to il -Dr.J.

• This friend was Mr. Cave, the printer.-N # Hr. Serong, orite Post-office. - N.

See Gent. Mag. vol. lvij. 1010.-N.

Mr. Pope. See some extracts of letters from that gentleman to and concerning Mr. Savage, in Rufhead': Life of Pope, p. 502.-R.

abilities for the direction of his own conduct ; Such was the life and death of Richard Sa- an irregular and dissipated manner of life had vage, a man equally distinguished by his virtues made him the slave of every passion that hapand vices; and at once remarkable for his weak- pened to be excited by the presence of its object, nesses and abilities.

and that slavery to his passions reciprocally proHe was of a middle stature, of a thin habit duced a life irregular and dissipated. He was of body, a long visage, coarse features, and me- not master of his own motions, nor could prolancholy aspect ; of a grave and manly deport- mise any thing for the next day. ment, a solemn dignity of mien, but whích, upon With regard to his economy, nothing can be a nearer acquaintance, softened into an engaging added to the relation of his life. He appeared easiness of manner. His walk was slow, and to think himself born to be supported by others, his voice tremulous and mournful. He was easily and dispensed from all necessity of providing excited to smiles, but very seldom provoked to for himself; he therefore never prosecuted any laughter.

scheme of advantage, nor endeavoured even to His mind was in an uncommon degree vigo- secure the profits which his writings might have rous and active. His judgment was accurate, his afforded him. His temper was, in consequence apprehension quick, and his meinory so tena- of the dominion of his passions, uncertain and cious, that he was frequently observed to know capricious; he was easily engaged, and easily what he had learned from others, in a short disgusted; but he is accused of retaining his time, better than those by whom he was inform- hatred more tenaciously than his benevolence. ed ; and could frequently recollect incidents, He was compassionate both by nature and with all their combination of circumstances, principle, and always ready to perform offices of which few would have regarded at the present humanity; but when he was provoked (and very time, but which the quickness of his apprehen- small offences were sufficient to provoke him) sion impressed upon him. He had the peculiar he would prosecute his revenge with the utmost felicity that his attention never deserted him ; acrimony till his passion had subsided. he was present to every object, and regardful of His friendship was therefore of little value; the most trifting occurrences. He had the art of for, though he was zealous in the support or vinescaping from his own reflections, and accom- dication of those whom he loved, yet it was modating himself to every new scene.

always dangerous to trust him, becausc he conTo this quality is to be imputed the extent of sidered himself as discharged by the first quarrel his knowledge, compared with the small time from all ties of honour or gratitude; and would which he spent in visible endeavours to acquire betray those secrets which in the warmth of conit. He mingled in cursory conversation with fidence had been imparted to him. This practhe same steadiness of attention as others apply tice drew upon him a universal accusation of to a lecture; and, amidst the appearance of ingratitude; nor can it be denied that he was thoughtless gayety, lost no new idea that was very ready to set himself free from the load of an started, nor any hint that could be improved.-obligation; for he could not bear to conceive He had therefore made in coffee-houses the same himself in a state of dependence, his pride being proficiency as others in their closets : and it is equally powerful with his other passions, and remarkable, that the writings of a man of little appearing in the form of insolence at one time, education and little reading have an air of learn- and of vanity at another. Vanity, the most ing scarcely to be found in any other perform- innocent species of pride, was most frequently ances, but which perhaps as often obscures as predominant: he could not easily leave off

, when embellishes them.

he had once begun to mention himself or his His judgment was eminently exact both with works; nor ever read his verses without stealing regard to writings and to men. The knowledge his eyes from the page, to discover in the faces of life was indeed his chief attainment; and it of his audience, how they were afrated with any is not without some satisfaction, that I can pro- favourite passage. duce the suffrage of Savage in favour of human A kinder name than that of vanity ought to be nature, of which he never appeared to entertain given to the delicacy with which he was always such odious ideas as some, who perhaps had careful to separate his own merit from every other man's, and to reject that praise to which numbers sonorous and majestic, though frehe had no laim. He did not forget, in men- quently sluggish and encumbered.' Of his style, tioning his performances, to mark every line that the general fault is harshness, and its general had been suggested or amended; and was so excellence is dignity; of his sentiments, the preaccurate, as to relate that he owed three words vailing beauty is simplicity, and uniformity the in “ The Wanderer" to the advice of his friends. prevailing defect.

His veracity was questioned, but with little For his life, or for his writings, none, wbo reason; his accounts, though not indeed always candidly consider his fortune, will think an apothe same, were generally consistent. When he logy either necessary or difficult. If he was not loved any man, he suppressed all his faults; and, always sufficiently instructed on his subject, his when he had been offended by him, concealed knowledge was at least greater than could have all his virtues : but his characters were generally been attained by others in the same state. If true, so far as he proceeded; though it cannot his works were sometimes unfinished, accuracy be denied, that his partiality might have some cannot reasonably be exacted from a man optimes the effect of falsehood.

pressed with want, which he has no hope of In cases indifferent, he was zealous for virtue, relieving but by a speedy publication. The insouuth, and justice: he knew very well the neces- lence and resentment of which he is accused sity of goodness to the present and future hap- were not easily to be avoided by a great mind, piness of mankind; nor is there perhaps any irritated by perpetual hardships, and constrained writer, who has less endeavoured to please by hourly to return the spurns of contempt, and flattering the appetites, or perverting the judg- repress the insolence of prosperity; and vanity ment.

may surely be readily pardoned in him, to whom As an author, therefore, and he now ceases to life afforded no other comforts than barren influence mankind in any other character, if one praises, and the consciousness of deserving them. piece which he had resolved to suppress, be ex- Those are no proper judges of his conduct, cepted, he has very little to fear from the strictest who have slumbered away their time on the moral or religious censure. And though he may down of plenty; nor will any wise man prenot be altogether secure against the objections sume to say, "Had I been in Savage's conof the critic, it must however be acknowledged, dition, I should have lived or written better than that his works are the productions of a genius Savage." truly poetical; and, what many writers who This relation will not be wholly without its have been more lavishly applauded cannot boast, use, if those, who languish under any part of that they have an original air, which has no re- his sufferings, shall be enabled to fortify their semblance of any foregoing writer; that the ver patience, by reflecting that they feel only those sification and sentiments have a cast peculiar to afflictions from which the abilities of Savage did themselves, which no man can imitate with suc- not exempt him; or those, who, in confidence cess, because what was nature in Savage would of superior capacities or attainments, disregarded in another be affectation. It must be confessed, the common maxims of life, shall be reminded, that his descriptions are striking, his images that nothing will supply the want of prudence; animated, his fictions justly imagined, and all and that negligence and irregularity, long conhis allegories artfully pursued; that his diction tinued, will make knowledge useless, wit ridicuis elevated, though sometimes' forced, and his lous, and genius contemptible.

SWIFT.

An account of Dr. Swift has been already col- clergyman, who was minister of a parish in lected, with great diligence and acuteness, by Herefordshire. During his life the place of his Dr. Hawkesworth, according to a scheme which birth was undetermined. He was contented to I laid before him in the intimacy of our friend- be called an Irishman by the liish; but would ship. I cannot therefore be expected to say occasionally call himself an Englishman. The much of a life, concerning which I had long question may, without much regret, be left in the Sizice communicated my thoughts to a man obscurity in which he delighted to involve it. capable of dignifying his narrations with so much Whatever was his birth, his education was plugance of language and force of sentiment. Irish. He was sent at the age of six to the school JONATHAN Swift was, according to an ac

at Kilkenny, and in his fifteenth year (1682) was (nunt said to be written by himself, the son of admitted into the University of Dublin. J.nathan Swift, an attorney, and was born at

In his academical studies he was either not Dublin on St. Andrew's day, in 1667: according diligent or not happy. It must disappoint every to his own report

, as delivered by Pope to reader's expectation, that when at the usual Spence, he was born at Leicester, the son of a time he claimed the bachelorship of arts, he was

found by the examiners too conspicuously deg • Mr. Sheridan, in his life of Swist, observes that this cient for regular admission, and obtained his deArount was really written by the Dean, and now exists in his own hand writing in the library of Dublin Col.

| Spence's Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 273.

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gree at last by special favour ; a term used in that stinued his studies, and is known to have read, University to denote want of merit.

among other books, “Cyprian" and "Irenæus.“ Of this disgrace it may be easily supposed that He thought exercise of great necessity, and used he was much ashamed, and shame had its proper to run half a mile up and down a hill every two effect in producing reformation. He resolved hours. from that time to study eight hours a day, and It is easy to imagine that the mode in which continued his industry for seven years, with what his first degree was conferred, left him no great improvement is sufficiently known. This part fondness for the University of Dublin, and thereof his story well deserves to be remembered; it fore he resolved to become a master of arts at may afford useful admonition and powerful en Oxford. In the testimonial which he produced, couragement to many men, whose abilities have the words of disgrace were omitted; and he took been made for a time useless by their passions or his master's degree (July 5, 1692) with such repleasures, and who, having lost one part of life ception and regard as fully contented him. in idleness, are tempted to throw away the re- While he lived with Temple, he used to pay his mainder in despair.

mother at Leicester a yearly visit

. He travelled In this course of daily application he continued on foot, unless some violence of weather drove three years longer at Dublin; and in this time, him into a wagon; and at night he would go to if the observation and memory of an old compa- a penny lodging, where he purchased clean sheets nion may be trusted, he drew the first sketch of for sixpence. This practice Lord Orrery imhis “Tale of a Tub."

putes to his innate love of grossness and vulWhen he was about one-and-twenty, (1688,) garity: some may ascribe it to his desire of sur. being by the death of Godwin Swift, his uncle, veying human life through all its varieties: and who had supported him, left without subsistence, others, perhaps with equal probability, to a pas he went to consult his mother, who then lived at sion which seems to have been deeply fixed in Leicester, about the future course of his life; and, his heart, the love of a shilling. by her direction, solicited the advice and patron- In time he began to think that his attendance age of Sir William Temple, who had married at Moor-park deserved some other recompense one of Mrs. Swift's relations, and whose father, than the pleasure, however mingled with improveSir John Temple, master of the rolls in Ireland, ment, of Temple's conversation; and grew,50 had lived in great familiarity of friendship with impatient, that (1694) he went away in disGodwin Swift, by whom Jonathan had been to content. that time maintained.

Temple, conscious of having given reason for Temple received with sufficient kindness the complaint, is said to have made him deputy mas nephew of his father's friend, with whom he was, ter of the rolls in Ireland; which, according to when they conversed together, so much pleased, his kinsman's account, was an office which he that he detained him two years in his house. knew him not able to discharge. Swift there Here he became known to King William, who fore resolved to enter into the church, in which sometimes visited Temple when he was disabled he had at first no higher hopes than of the chapby the gout, and, being attended by Swift in the lainship to the Factory at Lisbon; but, being garden, showed him how to cut asparagus in the recommended to Lord Capel, he obtained the Dutch way.

prebend of Kilroot, in Connor, of about a hunKing William's notions were all military ; and dred pounds a year. he expressed his kindness to Swift by offering to But the infirmities of Temple made a compamake him a captain of horse.

nion like Swift so necessary, that he invited him When Temple renoved to Voor-park, he look back, with a promise to procure him an English Swift with him; and when he was consulted by preferment in exchange for the prebend, which the Earl of Portland about the expedience of he desired him to resign. With this request complying with a bill then depending for making Swift quickly complied, having perhaps equally parliaments triennial, against which King Wil repented their separation, and they lived on toliam was strongly prejudiced, after having in vain gether with mutual satisfaction; and, in the four tried to show the Earl that the proposal involved years that passed between his return and Temnothing dangerous to royal power, he sent Swilt ple's death, it is probable that he wrote the "Tale for the same purpose to the King. Swift, who of a Tub” and the “Battle of the Books." probably was proud of his e:nployment, and went Swift began early to think, or to hope, that he with all the confidence of a young man, found was a poet, and wrote Pindaric odes to Temple, his arguments, and his art of displaying them, to the King, and to the Athenian Society, a k not made totally ineffectual by the predetermination of obseure "men, * who published a periodical of the King; and used to mention this disap- pamphlet of answers to questions, sent, or sup pointment as his first antidote against vanity. posed to be sent, by letters. I have been told

Before he left Ireland he contracted a disorder, that Dryden, having perused these verses, said, as he thought, by eating too much fruit. The “Cousin Swift, you will never be a poet," and original of diseases is commonly obscure. Al that this denunciation was the motive of Swift's most every boy eats as much fruit as he can get, perpetual malevolence to Dryden. without any great inconvenience. The disease In 1699 Temple died, and left a legacy with of Swift was giddiness with deafness, which at- his manuscripts to Swift, for whom he had obtacked him from time to time, began very early, tained, from King William, a promise of the first pursued him through life, and at last sent him to prebend that should be vacant at Westminster the grave, deprived of reason.

or Canterbury Being much oppressed at Moor-park by this That this promise might not be forgotten, grievous malady, he was advised to try his na air, and went to Ireland; but, finding no benefit, returned to Sir William, at whose house he con- 1 ton.-R.

* The publisher of this Collection was John Dur

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