his mind in
study, or amuse it with pleasing imaginations; and seldom appeared to be
melancholy, but when some sudden misfortune had just fallen upon him,
and even then, in a few moments, he would disentangle himself from his
perplexity, adopt the subject of conversation, and apply his mind wholly
to the objects that others presented to it.

This life, unhappy as it may be already imagined, was yet imbittered, in
1738, with new calamities. The death of the queen deprived him of all
the prospects of preferment, with which he so long entertained his
imagination; and, as sir Robert Walpole had before given him reason to
believe that he never intended the performance of his promise, he was
now abandoned again to fortune.

He was, however, at that time, supported by a friend; and as it was not
his custom to look out for distant calamities, or to feel any other pain
than that which forced itself upon his senses, he was not much afflicted
at his loss, and, perhaps, comforted himself that his pension would be
now continued without the annual tribute of a panegyrick.

Another expectation contributed likewise to support him: he had taken a
resolution to write a second tragedy upon the story of sir Thomas
Overbury, in which he preserved a few lines of his former play, but made
a total alteration of the plan, added new incidents, and introduced new
characters; so that it was a new tragedy, not a revival of the former.

Many of his friends blamed him for not making choice of another subject;
but, in vindication of himself, he asserted, that it was not easy to
find a better; and that he thought it his interest to extinguish the
memory of the first tragedy, which he could only do by writing one less
defective upon the same story; by which he should entirely defeat the
artifice of the booksellers, who, after the death of any author of
reputation, are always industrious to swell his works, by uniting his
worst productions with his best.

In the execution of this scheme, however, he proceeded but slowly, and
probably only employed himself upon it when he could find no other
amusement; but he pleased himself with counting the profits, and perhaps
imagined, that the theatrical reputation which he was about to acquire
would be equivalent to all that he had lost by the death of his
patroness.

He did not, in confidence of his approaching riches, neglect the
measures proper to secure the continuance of his pension, though some of
his f