design, and informed his friend that he was determined to print it
with his name; but enjoined him not to communicate his intention to
his Bristol acquaintance. The gentleman, surprised at his resolution,
endeavoured to persuade him from publishing it, at least from prefixing
his name; and declared that he could not reconcile the injunction of
secrecy with his resolution to own it at its first appearance. To
this Mr. Savage returned an answer agreeable to his character, in the
following terms:--

"I received yours this morning; and not without a little surprise at the
contents. To answer a question with a question, you ask me concerning
London and Bristol, why will I add DELINEATED? Why did Mr. Woolaston add
the same word to his Religion of Nature? I suppose that it was his will
and pleasure to add it in his case: and it is mine to do so in my
own. You are pleased to tell me that you understand not why secrecy is
enjoined, and yet I intend to set my name to it. My answer is,--I have
my private reasons, which I am not obliged to explain to any one. You
doubt my friend Mr. S----would not approve of it. And what is it to me
whether he does or not? Do you imagine that Mr. S---- is to dictate to
me? If any man who calls himself my friend should assume such an air, I
would spurn at his friendship with contempt. You say, I seem to think so
by not letting him know it. And suppose I do, what then? Perhaps I can
give reasons for that disapprobation, very foreign from what you would
imagine. You go on in saying, Suppose I should not put my name to it. My
answer is, that I will not suppose any such thing, being determined to
the contrary: neither, sir, would I have you suppose that I applied to
you for want of another press: nor would I have you imagine that I owe
Mr. S---- obligations which I do not."

Such was his imprudence, and such his obstinate adherence to his own
resolutions, however absurd! A prisoner! supported by charity! and,
whatever insults he might have received during the latter part of his
stay at Bristol, once caressed, esteemed, and presented with a liberal
collection, he could forget on a sudden his danger and his obligations,
to gratify the petulance of his wit or the eagerness of his resentment,
and publish a satire by which he might reasonably expect that he should
alienate those who then supported him, and provoke those whom he could
neither resist nor escape.

This resolution, from the execution of which