m his own luxury and
extravagance what he had promised to allow him, and that his resentment
was only a plea for the violation of his promise. He asserted that he
had done nothing that ought to exclude him from that subsistence which
he thought not so much a favour as a debt, since it was offered him upon
conditions which he had never broken: and that his only fault was,
that he could not be supported with nothing. He acknowledged that Lord
Tyrconnel often exhorted him to regulate his method of life, and not to
spend all his nights in taverns, and that he appeared desirous that he
would pass those hours with him which he so freely bestowed upon others.
This demand Mr. Savage considered as a censure of his conduct which he
could never patiently bear, and which, in the latter and cooler parts of
his life, was so offensive to him, that he declared it as his resolution
"to spurn that friend who should pretend to dictate to him;" and it is
not likely that in his earlier years he received admonitions with more
calmness. He was likewise inclined to resent such expectations, as
tending to infringe his liberty, of which he was very jealous, when it
was necessary to the gratification of his passions; and declared that
the request was still more unreasonable as the company to which he was
to have been confined was insupportably disagreeable. This assertion
affords another instance of that inconsistency of his writings with his
conversation which was so often to be observed. He forgot how lavishly
he had, in his dedication to "The Wanderer," extolled the delicacy and
penetration, the humanity and generosity, the candour and politeness of
the man whom, when he no longer loved him, he declared to be a wretch
without understanding, without good nature, and without justice; of
whose name he thought himself obliged to leave no trace in any future
edition of his writings, and accordingly blotted it out of that copy of
"The Wanderer" which was in his hands.

During his continuance with the Lord Tyrconnel, he wrote "The Triumph of
Health and Mirth," on the recovery of Lady Tyrconnel from a languishing
illness. This performance is remarkable, not only for the gaiety of the
ideas and the melody of the numbers, but for the agreeable fiction upon
which it is formed. Mirth, overwhelmed with sorrow for the sickness of
her favourite, takes a flight in quest of her sister Health, whom she
finds reclined upon the brow of a lofty mountain, amidst the