of those which she had promised: in some of his pieces, therefore, gratitude is predominant, and in some discontent; in some he represents himself as happy in her patronage; and, in others, as disconsolate to find himself neglected. Her promise, like other promises made to this unfortunate man, was never performed, though he took sufficient care that it should not be forgotten. The publication of his "Volunteer Laureat" procured him no other reward than a regular remit tance of fifty pounds. He was not so depressed by his disappointments as to neglect any opportunity that was offered of advancing his interest. When the Princess Anne was married, he wrote a poem upon her de parture, "only," as he declared, "because it was expected from him," and he was not willing to bar his own prospects by any appearance of neglect. He never mentioned any advantage gained by this poem, or any regard that was paid to it; and therefore it is likely that it was considered at court as an act of duty, to which he was obliged by his dependance, and which it was therefore not necessary to reward by any new favour: or per haps the Queen really intended his advancement, and therefore thought it superfluous to lavish presents upon a man whom she intended to establish for life. About this time not only his hopes were in dan ger of being frustrated, but his pension likewise of being obstructed, by an accidental calumny. The writer of "The Daily Courant," a paper then pub lished under the direction of the ministry, charged him with a crime, which, though not very great in itself, would have been remarkably invidious in him, and might very justly have incensed the Queen against him. He was accused by name of Printed in the late Collection. in in fa th H P W po op ve me influencing elections against the court, by appear ing at the head of a tory mob; nor did the accuser fail to aggravate his crime, by representing it as the effect of the most atrocious ingratitude, and a kind of rebellion against the Queen, who had first preserved him from an infamous death, and afterwards distinguished him by her favour, and sup. ported him by her charity. The charge, as it was open and confident, was likewise by good fortune very particular. The place of the transaction was mentioned, and the whole series of the rioter's conduct related. This exactness made Mr. Savage's vindication easy; for he never had in his life seen the place which was declared to be the scene of his wickedness, nor ever had been present in any town when its representatives were chosen. This answer he therefore made haste to publish, with all the circumstances necessary to make it credible; and very reasonably demanded that the accusation should be retracted in the same paper, that he might no longer suffer the imputation of sedition and ingratitude. This demand was likewise pressed by him in a private letter to the author of the paper, who, either trusting to the protection of those whose defence he had undertaken, or having entertained some personal malice against Mr. Savage, or fearing lest, by retracting so confident an assertion, he should impair the credit of his paper, refused to give him that satisfaction. Mr. Savage therefore thought it necessary to his own vindication, to prosecute him in the King's Bench; but as he did not find any ill effects from the accusation, having sufficiently cleared his innocence, he thought any farther procedure would have the appearance of revenge; and therefore willingly dropped it. He saw soon afterwards a process commenced in the same court against himself, on an information in which he was accused of writing and publishing an obscene pamphlet. 162 It was always Mr. Savage's desire to be distinguished; and, when any controversy became po pular, he never wanted some reason for engaging in it with great ardour, and appearing at the head of the party which he had chosen. As he was ne ver celebrated for his prudence, he had no sooner taken his side, and informed himself of the chief topics of the dispute, than he took all opportunities of asserting and propagating his principles, without much regard to his own interest, or any other visible design than that of drawing upon himself the attention of mankind. The dispute between the Bishop of London and the Chancellor is well known to have been for some time the chief topic of political conversation; and therefore Mr. Savage, in pursuance of his charac ter, endeavoured to become conspicuous among the controvertists with which every coffee-house was filled on that occasion. He was an indefatigable opposer of all the claims of ecclesiastical power, though he did not know on what they were found. ed; and was therefore no friend to the Bishop of London. But he had another reason for appear ing as a warm advocate for Dr. Rundle; for he was the friend of Mr. Foster and Mr. Thomson, who were the friends of Mr. Savage. Thus remote was his interest in the question, which, however, as he imagined, concerned him so nearly, that it was not sufficient to harangue and dispute, but necessary likewise to write upon it. He therefore engaged with great ardour in a new poem, called by him, "The Progress of a Divine;" in which he conducts a profligate priest, by all the gradations of wickedness, from a poor curacy in the country to the highest preferments of the church: and describes, with that humour which was natural to him, and that knowledge which was extended to all the diversities of human life, his behaviour in every station; and insinuates, that th tr W SU he th st W vi 163 this priest, thus accomplished, found at last a patron in the Bishop of London. When he was asked, by one of his friends, on what pretence he could charge the Bishop with such an action; he had no more to say than that he had only inverted the accusation: and that he thought it reasonable to believe, that he who obstructed the rise of a good man without reason, would for bad reasons promote the exaltation of a villain, The clergy were universally provoked by this satire; and Savage, who, as was his constant prac tice, had set his name to his performance, was censured in "The Weekly Miscellany" with severity which he did not seem inclined to forget. A short satire was likewise published in the same paper, in which were the following lines: For cruel murder doom'd to hempen death, Savage by royal grace prolong'd his breath. Well might you think he spent his future years In prayer, and fasting, and repentant tears. "-But, O vain hope!"-the truly Savage cries, Priests, and their slavish doctrines, I despise. Shall I Who, by free-thinking to free action fir'd, aim Though prudence bids me murder but their fame." Weekly Miscellany. An answer was published in "The Gentleman's Magazine," written by an unknown hand, from which the following lines are selected: Transform'd by thoughtless rage, and midnight wine, From malice free, and push'd without design; 164 But a return of invective was not thought a suf. ficient punishment. The court of King's Bench was therefore moved against him; and he was obliged to return an answer to a charge of obscenity. It was urged in his defence, that obscenity was criminal when it was intended to promote the practice of vice; but that Mr. Savage had only introduced obscene ideas, with the view of exposing them to detestation, and of amending the age by shewing the deformity of wickedness. This plea was admitted; and Sir Philip Yorke, who then presided in that court, dismissed the informa tion with encomiums upon the purity and excellence of Mr. Savage's writings. The prosecution, In equal brawl if Savage lung'd a thrust, -Maliciously that Savage plung'd the steel, Gentleman's Magazine, May 1735.-Dr. J. |