scribed,
Savage was always able to live at peace with himself. Had he indeed only
made use of these expedients to alleviate the loss or want of fortune or
reputation, or any other advantages which it is not in man's power to
bestow upon himself, they might have been justly mentioned as instances
of a philosophical mind, and very properly proposed to the imitation of
multitudes, who, for want of diverting their imaginations with the same
dexterity, languish under afflictions which might be easily removed.

It were, doubtless, to be wished, that truth and reason were universally
prevalent; that every thing were esteemed according to its real value;
and that men would secure themselves from being disappointed in their
endeavours after happiness, by placing it only in virtue, which is
always to be obtained; but, if adventitious and foreign pleasures must
be pursued, it would be, perhaps, of some benefit, since that pursuit
must frequently be fruitless, if the practice of Savage could be taught,
that folly might be an antidote to folly, and one fallacy be obviated by
another.

But the danger of this pleasing intoxication must not be concealed; nor
indeed can any one, after having observed the life of Savage, need to
be cautioned against it. By imputing none of his miseries to himself, he
continued to act upon the same principles, and to follow the same path;
was never made wiser by his sufferings, nor preserved by one misfortune
from falling into another. He proceeded, throughout his life, to tread
the same steps on the same circle; always applauding his past conduct,
or, at least, forgetting it to amuse himself with phantoms of happiness,
which were dancing before him; and willingly turned his eyes from the
light of reason, when it would have discovered the illusion, and shown
him, what he never wished to see, his real state.

He is even accused, after having lulled his imagination with those ideal
opiates, of having tried the same experiment upon his conscience; and,
having accustomed himself to impute all deviations from the right to
foreign causes, it is certain that he was, upon every occasion, too
easily reconciled to himself, and that he appeared very little to regret
those practices which had impaired his reputation. The reigning errour
of his life was, that he mistook the love for the practice of virtue,
and was, indeed, not so much a good man as the friend of goodness.

This, at least, must be allowed him, that