him, and addressing him solemnly, if any kindness-benefit, if you please, did ever proceed from you, while it was done with delicacy, I thank you.'

With this I stalked away, leaving him in my eyes, and perhaps in his own, a very pitiful figure.

My wardrobe was soon packed, my small property collected. Splendour-competence-these are very well. God be with them, and those that have them! But, while I had them, God knows I purchased them too dearly.

CHAPTER XXXV.

An abrupt determination to make an end of his narrative, and a partial disclosure of several wretched particulars, which seem to make it expedient so to do. LORD TYRCONNEL shortly after our quarrel, with a baseness all his own, under pretence that I owed him money, that is to say, converting the allowance I had received from him into a debt, seized upon every article I possessed, even to my clothes, at my new lodgings. I was speedily reduced once more to want. My best friends, Mrs. Oldfield and Mr. Wilks, had died a few months before. My pension, therefore, ceased; and assistance was at an end from a man who never refused me a guinea in his life, and whose beneficence, sometimes declined, was never to be denied.

In the meanwhile I did not forget my mother. Prudence might have whispered to me,-but when were prudence and Richard Savage on speaking terms? My purpose now was to make her feel; and the method of doing so that first suggested itself to me was similar to that I had before resolved upon putting in practice.

was

A poem entitled 'The Bastard' was the result; and never bolt shot that went more directly to its aim. From this poem, although I obtained plenty of empty praise for it, I secured no solid pudding.

In the course of a few months, when the blaze of admiration had died away, and my acquaintances began to think more of their own pockets and less of mine, I was again reduced to sound the depths and shallows of human misery. At length Mr. Strong of the Post Office -my friend (once he was a true one!), took me as inmate into his house, and kindly entertained me. The concluding paragraph of my poem of 'The Bastard' contained an eulogium upon Queen Caroline, with a pleading hope, artfully and pathetically expressed, that in her gracious beneficence I should find what fate or fortune had denied to me-the tenderness of a mother.

The Queen was pleased to accept my verses very graciously, and to order that the sum of fifty pounds should be paid to me annually. Her Majesty accompanied the gift with a permission, which was a command, that I should every year supply a similar tribute. This pension I received till her death. Between the time of its grant and of its surcease, beside the annual panegyrics, which, to say the truth, were hardly better than Cibber's better paid performances, I wrote two poems of some length and pretensions,-'The Progress of a Divine,' and' On Public Spirit with regard to Public Works.'

No life of Richard Savage must be written by him, short as was the portion of it in which he was so happy as to enjoy thy company, without a notice, Samuel Johnson, of thee!

I was introduced to Johnson by Cave, for whom I had from time to time written various trifles in the Gentleman's Magazine. I found

him manly, humane, and sincere; learned without ostentation; when serious, without moroseness; when cheerful, without levity. My life had passed among men-his had lain among books; yet he had, and has, more wit than any man I ever knew, and a more comprehensive and, at the same time, a more accurate knowledge of human nature. We soon became intimate. He regarded me, and I loved him. We were both alike miserably poor; and poverty is a strong cement to friendship. How oft have we-I was going to use Tyrconnel's word -prowled, but no, paraded the streets from midnight till morn in amice grey' arose, and lighted upon the lids of sluggish slaves a-bed, (what cared we for beds, who had none?) and bade them rise. No murmurings no repinings were ours at dispensations of Providence, at unequal distributions of worldly goods and blessings; but, in their stead, philosophy, literature, politics-these were our themes. We have many times saved the nation without a farthing in our pockets, and tranquillized Europe while our teeth were chattering in our heads. Those nights had a relish of happiness in them even at the time; the memory of them now is precious to me.

I waited some considerable time after the Queen's death, in expectation that my pension would be paid to me as before. The allowance made by her Majesty to others had, as I was told, been continued. Wearied at length, and not so fearful that I had been overlooked as suspecting I had been purposely neglected, I waited upon Sir Robert Walpole at his levee, and in no obsequious manner demanded to know the reason of the discontinuance of my pension. He gave me to understand that I was no longer to expect it; but declined to satisfy me as to the reason why it was withheld. Upon this, I took the opportu nity of reproaching him, in no measured terms, for his perfidiousness; for this man had, three years before, voluntarily renewed the promise he had made to me when I lived with Lord Tyrconnel of giving me an appointment; which promise, I need not add, he had never fulfilled.

I left him in a rage; his cringing sycophants, with whom the chamber was crowded, making an instant alley for me as I passed, and wondering, doubtless, whence the maniac could have sprung bold enough to beard a minister in his own house.

My affairs were now in a disastrous plight. My friends were becoming tired of extending their aid, and I had been long sick of receiving their assistance. Some urged me to a resolute exercise of my talents. Johnson was of the number of these. He was young, and knew not the crushing operations of necessity.

Well, at last I was reduced to the utmost extremity. From my best friends, or rather from those who best had it in their power to serve me, I had kept the knowledge of my miserable condition as long as I could; but it was no longer a secret. In this imminence of my affairs, several of them, including Sir Edward Langley and Burridge, met together to devise sorne plan for my relief. They proposed amongst them to subscribe fifty guineas a year for me, (Mr. Pope having offered himself to pay twenty guineas out of it), on condition that I would leave London, under a promise never to return, and retire into Wales, where living, they said, (and life, they might have added), was cheap. Langley was deputed to make this proposition to me.

I resisted the proposition with firmness, which they termed obstinaey; and with warmth, which they called indignation. I pleaded, which was true, that I had already made some progress in a second tragedy, on the subject of Sir Thomas Overbury; that I could proceed

with it more to my own satisfaction in London, where I had friends; that, when completed, I should be on the spot to superintend its preparation at the theatre; that I had no passion for the country; and, finally, that I did not care to receive anything at the hands of men who proposed at the same time to tie my hands.

I paid my respects to Mr. Pope, who had expressed a wish to see me. He received me with his usual gentle kindness. To borrow a word from the nursery, his fractious peevishness, of which the world has heard so much-a consequence of his wretched health—was never exhibited before me. During a considerable time we discoursed of general or of indifferent things, Pope evidently reluctant to enter upon the business for which he had summoned me thither. At length he walked to an adjoining table, from which he took an open letter.

This,' said he, re-seating himself, is a letter 1 have taken the liberty of writing for you.' He hesitated, and turned slightly palePope always turned pale when he should have blushed. I think,' he resumed, it is nearly what you yourself would write. You can copy it here. You know Sir William Lemon?'

I do.'

It is to him-to be shown to Lord Tyrconnel.'

What! any man to take a pen between his fingers, and form letters, and frame words, and connect sentences, and express sentiments, or opinions, or feelings in my name, and without consulting me! I received the letter into my hand with a very ill grace. But when I came to read it!-why, this was one of the vilest letters. I blushed for Pope-I could do nothing for a time but blush.

This letter,' I said at last, is to Sir William Lemon. In it I confess my sorrow that I offended Lord Tyrconnel. I feel none. beg his pardon! I will not. Upon my honour, Mr. Pope, I take this letter to be remarkably small. Suppose I tear it into very small pieces, and fling it out of your window?'-and I did so.

Pope attempted to excuse himself, but lamely; and afterwards to rally me upon my pride, but very awkwardly.

I wonder Pope bore with my plain speech as he did. But what is a man to do or say-a man of sense and feeling-when it is shown to him all on a sudden that he has done a very foolish thing, and has just been counselling his friend to do a very base one? Without entering, therefore, perhaps, into my feelings, or appeasing them, he saw at once the reasonableness of my objections, and agreed with me that the letter was rightly destroyed; and assuring me of his continued friendship, and that I might rely upon twenty guineas a-year from him, he permitted me to depart. But not these assurances could heal the wound he had inflicted upon me.

I could not help relating the substance of this interview to Johnson. 'Mr. Johnson,' said I, in conclusion, 'had fortune treated you as she has dealt by me, and you had been requested to transcribe such a letter, believing the appeal made in it would prove successful, would you have done so ?'

He made one of his ugly, majestic faces, threw his arms up into the air, and took the room in three giant strides.

'No' in a burst of thunder-No! I would not.'

And you do not think the better of Pope for urging me to do so?' 'I admire Pope, Mr. Savage; you know it.' He is a man of genius. But, sir, I do not think the better of Pope-I think very much the worse of Pope.'

MY DEAR FRIEND,

A JUNIOR BARRISTER.

Ir is now five-and-twenty years since you requested me on the day of my call to let you know when I had anything to do, and I write after the expiration of a quarter of a century to redeem my promise. Though a member of Lincoln's Inn, the colour of my hair would indicate that I am a junior of Gray's; but, as I have this day had to get up in court, I shall probably be regarded as a rising young man, and, though I have not before been upon my legs, I am at least a barrister of considerable standing. Our profession, my dear friend, is acquired by eating six-and-thirty dinners, which I am not astonished should be regarded as a very great achievement, considering the great difficulty that is experienced in performing the same feat after being called, if a man has nothing but his professional earning to depend upon.

It is a very odd fact that a combination of causes, added to the absence of any cause at all, has prevented my rising to that eminence which you were so good as to predict for me. You told me I should sit upon the bench, and so far you were right, for I took the liberty of doing so one morning, before any one had come into the court, and I tried my hand by delivering an elaborate judgment on the imaginary case of Doe versus Roe, in which I flatter myself that I did ample justice to both parties. I had just decided that Doe might have a rule nisi, when I caught the eye of the usher, who was laying out the pens and ink for the Queen's counsel; upon which I bolted precipitately from the bench, and rushed as if nothing had happened into the robing-room.

I must, however, tell you the result of my first speech; for, while some are always upon their legs, as if they had discovered the secret of perpetual motion, I, since I have been upon my own hands, have never until this day had an opportunity of moving. My instructions were to get a rule to compute made absolute upon the usual affidavit, a motion which is generally granted, upon its object being stated, in about six words; but you, my friend, had told me never to throw a chance away, and I was resolved, now the chance had come, to make the most of it. I commenced with a powerful panegyric on the supremacy of the law, and I then turned felicitously off into a complimentary strain on the purity of the judges. His lordship began to betray some impatience; but, attributing this to his modesty, I became warmer and more enthusiastic in my eulogies, and, my wit becoming playful, I declared that, in contrasting the purity of Cottenham with the shocking corruption of Bacon, I could not, as I was not in the Court of Chancery, be suspected of gammon. The Judge at this point angrily interrupted me; but this I attribute to his being a Tory, who could not bear to listen to a compliment bestowed on a Whig Chancellor. Such, my dear friend, is political venom. It wrinkles the brow of justice, and spurts forth from the mouth of dignity to poison the fountain of genius. I felt the check, my friend; but I had accomplished my purpose. I had framed my exordium on the principles laid down in Blair; and, if I felt abashed as a man, I knew I had reason to be proud as an orator.

I then took a rapid glance at the nature of rules in general, and was about to enter particularly into the peculiarities of the rule to compute, when the Judge, boiling over with political spleen, desired me to read my affidavit.' What!' thought I, 'is it thus that genius is encouraged by the great luminaries of the law?'-and I could not help mentally ejaculating, ' How would the man before me ever have reached his present position, if, whenever he commenced a rhetorical display, he had been coldly desired to "read his affidavit !" This was too much;-my hand trembled, my instructions fell from my grasp. They were picked up by the usher, handed to the Bench,perused by the Judge, and such was the innate excellence of my case, that all that had passed could not prevent the rule from being granted. You may take your rule, sir,' said the Judge; and I left the court with the conviction, that, though cruelly subbed as a man, I had at least been triumphant as an advocate.

I returned to my chambers, and found my boy-figuratively called my clerk-playing at leap-frog with some chits in the court, which, I regret to say, is Chitty's General Practice.

I composed myself, my dear friend, in the hope that, though illtreated by the Bench, I should at least have justice done me by the reports in the newspapers. The next day came, and I perused the following paragraph:

'BAIL COURT.-A learned gentleman, whose name we could not catch, in applying for a rule to compute, made a series of observations that would induce the suspicion that he was not in his right

senses.'

Ha ha! my friend, hear that! 'Not in his senses!' No!-it is ever thus. Genius is always madness; is it not, my friend? Galileo was regarded as a maniac, and it is not surprising that such should be the character assigned by a cold unfeeling world to

Your friend,

BARNABY BRIEFLESS.

THE PERSIAN SPY.

BY J. B. FRASER.

Ir is now twenty years ago since the time when the disputes between the Wâli and some of the Pooshti-koh chiefs ran high; and the former was preparing to attack the Feilees, who had assembled in the plain of Seimarrah. But in order to do this with effect, and before deciding on his course of operations, the Wâli became desirous to obtain some information respecting the force and state of preparation of his enemy. The only mode of doing so was by sending a confidential person to act the spy; a service of great danger, for detection and death were the same thing. It happened that among the servants of the stable was Allee 'such-a-one,' who had already rendered himself conspicuous by certain very daring acts and by a reckless boldness, which, in spite of certain reports as to his character, had won him a good deal of consideration among his companions, So, when search