told him that he read it once over, and was not displeased with it, that it gave him more pleasure at the second perusal, and delighted him still more at the third '. It has been generally objected to The Wanderer that the 120 disposition of the parts is irregular; that the design is obscure, and the plan perplexed; that the images, however beautiful, succeed each other without order; and that the whole performance is not so much a regular fabrick as a heap of shining materials thrown together by accident, which strikes rather with the solemn magnificence of a stupendous ruin than the elegant grandeur of a finished pile. This criticism is universal, and therefore it is reasonable to 121 believe it at least in a great degree just; but Mr. Savage was always of a contrary opinion, and thought his drift could only be missed by negligence or stupidity, and that the whole plan was regular, and the parts distinct 2. It was never denied to abound with strong representations 122 of nature, and just observations upon life; and it may easily be observed that most of his pictures have an evident tendency to illustrate his first great position,' that good is the consequence of evil. The sun that burns up the mountains, fructifies the vales*; the deluge that rushes down the broken rocks with Shall gravity for me her laws sus- 2 Scott, writing to A. Cunningham To calm content, through death to 123 124 125 dreadful impetuosity, is separated into purling brooks'; and the rage of the hurricane purifies the air 2. Even in this poem he has not been able to forbear one touch upon the cruelty of his mother3, which, though remarkably delicate and tender, is a proof how deep an impression it had upon his mind. This must be at least acknowledged, which ought to be thought equivalent to many other excellences, that this poem can promote no other purposes than those of virtue, and that it is written with a very strong sense of the efficacy of religion. But my province is rather to give the history of Mr. Savage's performances than to display their beauties, or to obviate the criticisms which they have occasioned; and therefore I shall not dwell upon the particular passages which deserve applause*: I shall neither shew the excellence of his description", nor expatiate on the terrifick portrait of suicide, nor point out the artful touches' by which he has distinguished the intellectual features of the rebels, who suffered death in his last canto. It is, however, proper to observe that Mr. Savage always declared the characters wholly fictitious, and without the least allusion to any real persons or actions. 126 From a poem so diligently laboured, and so successfully Eng. Poets, xli. 170. 2 lb. p. 175. 3 In the first edition of The Life [p. From the world's eye one frailty to Ye cruel mothers!-Soft! those So near shall cruelty and mother Can the dove's bosom snaky venom Can its foot sharpen like the vul- Can the fond goat, or tender fleecy Howl like the wolf to tear the kid Yes, there are mothers-There I And conscious trembled at the Then, with a sigh, his issuing words Straight with a falling tear the speech he clos'd.' Eng. Poets, xli. 153. 4 'Dr. Johnson pointed out a passage in Savage's Wanderer, saying, "These are fine verses." "If (said he) I had written with hostility of Warburton in my Shakespeare I should have quoted this couplet :'Here Learning, blinded first and then beguil'd, [wild.'" Looks dark as Ignorance, as Fancy Boswell's Johnson, iv. 288. In the original 'as Frenzy wild.' Eng. Poets, xli. 141. 5 Of his descriptions the following specimen may be offered.' Note in first edition of Johnson's Life of Savage, p. 68. The specimen is taken from Canto v. 15-46. 7 6 Who in the second Canto is thus introduced.' Note in first edition [p. 69]. Canto ii. 159-216 is quoted. These three Rebels are thus described.' Note in first edition [p. 70]. Canto v. 417-28, 481-88, 493-522, 529-70 is quoted. finished, it might be reasonably expected that he should have gained considerable advantage; nor can it, without some degree of indignation and concern, be told that he sold the copy for ten guineas, of which he afterwards returned two, that the two last sheets of the work might be reprinted, of which he had in his absence intrusted the correction to a friend, who was too indolent to perform it with accuracy. A superstitious regard to the correction of his sheets was one 127 of Mr. Savage's peculiarities: he often altered, revised, recurred to his first reading or punctuation, and again adopted the alteration; he was dubious and irresolute without end, as on a question of the last importance, and at last was seldom satisfied: the intrusion or omission of a comma was sufficient to discompose him, and he would lament an error of a single letter as a heavy calamity. In one of his letters relating to an impression of some verses, he remarks that he had, with regard to the correction of the proof, a spell upon him'; and indeed the anxiety with which he dwelt upon the minutest and most trifling niceties deserved no other name than that of fascination. That he sold so valuable a performance for so small a price, 128 was not to be imputed either to necessity, by which the learned and ingenious are often obliged to submit to very hard conditions, or to avarice, by which the booksellers are frequently incited to oppress that genius by which they are supported3; but to that intemperate desire of pleasure and habitual slavery to his passions, which involved him in many perplexities. He happened at that time to be engaged in the pursuit of some trifling gratification, and, being without money for the present occasion, sold his poem to the first bidder, and perhaps for the first price that was proposed, and would probably have been content with less, if less had been offered him *. Johnson received ten guineas for his London and fifteen guineas for the Life of Savage. Boswell's Johnson, i. 124, 165 n. 2 In this he was like Lord Lyttelton. Post, LYTTELTON, 20. 3 Johnson, with reference to the booksellers at the end of the seventeenth century, said :-' The general conduct of traders was much less liberal in those times than in our own; their views were narrower and their manners grosser.' Ante, DRYDEN, 'Booksellers,' wrote Southey in 4 * Johnson himself, from indifference 129 130 131 132 This poem was addressed to the Lord Tyrconnel, not only in the first lines, but in a formal dedication filled with the highest strains of panegyrick and the warmest professions of gratitude, but by no means remarkable for delicacy of connection or elegance of style 2. These praises in a short time he found himself inclined to retract, being discarded by the man on whom he had bestowed them, and whom he then immediately discovered not to have deserved them. Of this quarrel, which every day made more bitter, Lord Tyrconnel and Mr. Savage assigned very different reasons, which might perhaps all in reality concur, though they were not all convenient to be alleged by either party. Lord Tyrconnel affirmed that it was the constant practice of Mr. Savage to enter a tavern with any company that proposed it, drink the most expensive wines with great profusion, and when the reckoning was demanded to be without money. If, as it often happened, his company were willing to defray his part, the affair ended, without any ill consequences; but, if they were refractory, and expected that the wine should be paid for by him that drank it, his method of composition was to take them with him to his own apartment, assume the government of the house, and order the butler in an imperious manner to set the best wine in the cellar before his company, who often drank till they forgot the respect due to the house in which they were entertained, indulged themselves in the utmost extravagance of merriment, practised the most licentious frolicks, and committed all the outrages of drunkenness. Nor was this the only charge which Lord Tyrconnel brought against him. Having given him a collection of valuable books, stamped with his own arms, he had the mortification to see them in a short time exposed to sale upon the stalls, it being usual with Mr. Savage, when he wanted a small sum, to take his books to the pawnbroker. Whoever was acquainted with Mr. Savage easily credited both these accusations: for, having been obliged, from his first entrance into the world to subsist upon expedients, affluence was not able to exalt him above them; and so much was he delighted with wine and conversation, and so long had he been accustomed to live by chance, that he would at any time go to the tavern without scruple, and trust for the reckoning to the liberality of his company, and frequently of company to whom he was very little known. This conduct indeed very seldom drew upon him those inconveniences that might be feared by any other person; for his conversation was so entertaining, and his address so pleasing, that few thought the pleasure which they received from him dearly purchased by paying for his wine. It was his peculiar happiness that he scarcely ever found a stranger whom he did not leave a friend; but it must likewise be added that he had not often a friend long, without obliging him to become a stranger. Mr. Savage, on the other hand, declared that Lord Tyrconnel1 133 quarrelled with him, because he would substract from his own luxury and extravagance what he had promised to allow him, and that his resentment was only a plea for the violation of his promise. He asserted that he had done nothing that ought to exclude him from that subsistence which he thought not so much a favour as a debt, since it was offered him upon conditions which he had never broken; and that his only fault was that he could not be supported with nothing. He acknowledged that Lord Tyrconnel often exhorted him to 134 regulate his method of life, and not to spend all his nights in taverns, and that he appeared very desirous that he would pass those hours with him which he so freely bestowed upon others. This demand Mr. Savage considered as a censure of his conduct, which he could never patiently bear, and which, in the latter and cooler part of his life, was so offensive to him, that he declared it as his resolution 'to spurn that friend who should presume to dictate to him'; and it is not likely that in his earlier years he received admonitions with more calmness 2. He was likewise inclined to resent such expectations as tending 135 to infringe his liberty, of which he was very jealous when it was necessary to the gratification of his passions; and declared that His expression in one of his letters was 'that Lord Tyrconnel had involved his estate, and therefore poorly sought an occasion to quarrel LIVES OF POETS. II B b with him.' JOHNSON. 2 So awkward a sentence as this can scarcely be paralleled in Johnson's writings. |