equenter of the theatres; and, in a short
time, the amusements of the stage took such possession of his mind, that
he never was absent from a play in several years.
This constant attendance naturally procured him the acquaintance of the
players; and, among others, of Mrs. Oldfield, who was so much pleased
with his conversation, and touched with his misfortunes, that she
allowed him a settled pension of fifty pounds a year, which was during
her life regularly paid.
That this act of generosity may receive its due praise, and that the
good actions of Mrs. Oldfield may not be sullied by her general
character, it is proper to mention what Mr. Savage often declared, in
the strongest terms, that he never saw her alone, or in any other place
than behind the scenes.
At her death he endeavoured to show his gratitude in the most decent
manner, by wearing mourning, as for a mother; but did not celebrate her
in elegies[61], because he knew that too great profusion of praise would
only have revived those faults which his natural equity did not allow
him to think less, because they were committed by one who favoured him;
but of which, though his virtue would not endeavour to palliate them,
his gratitude would not suffer him to prolong the memory, or diffuse the
censure.
In his Wanderer, he has, indeed, taken an opportunity of mentioning
her; but celebrates her not for her virtue, but her beauty, an
excellence which none ever denied her: this is the only encomium with
which he has rewarded her liberality; and, perhaps, he has, even in
this, been too lavish of his praise. He seems to have thought, that
never to mention his benefactress would have an appearance of
ingratitude, though to have dedicated any particular performance to her
memory would have only betrayed an officious partiality, that, without
exalting her character, would have depressed his own.
He had sometimes, by the kindness of Mr. Wilks, the advantage of a
benefit, on which occasions he often received uncommon marks of regard
and compassion; and was once told, by the duke of Dorset, that it was
just to consider him as an injured nobleman; and that, in his opinion,
the nobility ought to think themselves obliged, without solicitation, to
take every opportunity of supporting him by their countenance and
patronage. But he had generally the mortification to hear, that the
whole interest of his mother was employed to frustrate his applications,
and that she never le
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