nded of sir Robert
Walpole, at his levee, the reason of the distinction that was made
between him and the other pensioners of the queen, with a degree of
roughness, which, perhaps, determined him to withdraw what had been only
delayed.

Whatever was the crime of which he was accused or suspected, and
whatever influence was employed against him, he received, soon after, an
account that took from him all hopes of regaining his pension; and he
had now no prospect of subsistence but from his play, and he knew no way
of living for the time required to finish it.

So peculiar were the misfortunes of this man, deprived of an estate and
title by a particular law, exposed and abandoned by a mother, defrauded
by a mother of a fortune which his father had allotted him, he entered
the world without a friend; and though his abilities forced themselves
into esteem and reputation, he was never able to obtain any real
advantage, and whatever prospects arose, were always intercepted as he
began to approach them. The king's intentions in his favour were
frustrated; his dedication to the prince, whose generosity on every
other occasion was eminent, procured him no reward; sir Robert Walpole,
who valued himself upon keeping his promise to others, broke it to him
without regret; and the bounty of the queen was, after her death,
withdrawn from him, and from him only.

Such were his misfortunes, which yet he bore, not only with decency, but
with cheerfulness; nor was his gaiety clouded even by his last
disappointments, though he was, in a short time, reduced to the lowest
degree of distress, and often wanted both lodging and food. At this time
he gave another instance of the insurmountable obstinacy of his spirit:
his clothes were worn out; and he received notice, that at a
coffee-house some clothes and linen were left for him: the person who
sent them did not, I believe, inform him to whom he was to be obliged,
that he might spare the perplexity of acknowledging the benefit; but
though the offer was so far generous, it was made with some neglect of
ceremonies, which Mr. Savage so much resented, that he refused the
present, and declined to enter the house till the clothes that had been
designed for him were taken away.

His distress was now publickly known, and his friends, therefore,
thought it proper to concert some measures for his relief; and one of
them wrote a letter to him, in which he expressed his concern "for the
miserable with