2
ET
R
Earl of Fife.
•LUCIUS·L
HUBBARD
HOUGHTON
MICHIGAN
Hubbard
Imag. Voy.
PR
3726
355
1789

D' JONATHAN SWIFT.

Dr THOMAS SHERIDAN.
Cook Jenip
THE
LIF FE
+
OF THE
Rev. Dr. Jonathan Swift,
DEAN OF ST. PATRICK's, DUBLIN.
By THOMAS SHERIDAN, A. M.
THE SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
Printed for J. F. and C. RIVINGTON, L. DAVIS, J. DODSLEY,
T. LONGMAN, B. LAW, J. JOHNSON, T. CADELL,
J. NICHOLS, G. ROBINSON and Co. R. BALDWIN,
J. SEWELL, T. EGERTON, W. BENT,
W. OTRIDGE, and B. C. COLLINS.
MDCCLXXXVII. ·
Res.
Lucius L. Hubbard
gt.
11-7-1922
410450
[ ]
iii
CONTENTS.
DEDICATION.
INTRODUCTION.
LIFE of DOCTOR
SECTION I
SWIFT.
From his Birth to the Death of Sir William Temple
SECTION II.
From the Death of Sir William Temple to the Time of
Swift's Introduction to Lord Oxford
Page 27
SECTION III.
From bis Introduction to Mr. Harley to the Death of the
Queen
SECTION IV.
55
A Review of his Conduct during his Connection with the
Queen's laft Miniſtry
144
SECTION V.
From his Return to Ireland to his Death
182
SECTION VI.
Private Memoirs of Swift
244
SECTION VII.
Various Anecdotes of Swift
385
APPENDIX.
Anecdotes of the Family of Swift, written by himself 468
His Will
i
=
479
PETUR
I
DETUR DIGNISSIMO.
HERE preſent the world with the Life of Dr.
Swift: a man, whofe original genius, and un-
common talents, have raiſed him, in the general
eſtimation, above all the Writers of the age. But,
from cauſes to be hereafter explained, his character
as a man, has hitherto been very problematical;
nor fhall I find it eafy, notwithſtanding the moſt
convincing proofs, to perfuade mankind, that one
who flouriſhed in the beginning of this century, in
times of great corruption, fhould afford in himſelf
a pattern of fuch perfect virtue, as was rarely to be
found in the annals of the ancient Republic of
Rome, when virtue was the mode. Yet if it can
be fhewn that even at this day, when corruption
ſeems to have arrived at its utmoft pitch, when
proſtitution is openly avowed, and public fpirit
turned into a jeſt: if in fuch times as theſe, in face
Romuli, there lives a man fully equal to Swift in
all the moral virtues attributed to him; the im-
probability of the exiftence of fuch a character at
a former period, will be much leffened. In the
following hiſtory SWIFT has been repreſented as a
man of the moſt difintereſted principles, regardleſs
of ſelf, and conſtantly employed in doing good to
others. In acts of charity and liberality, in pro-
portion to his means, perhaps without an equal,
in his days. A warm champion in the cauſe of
liberty, and fupport of the Engliſh Conſtitution.
A
A firm
!
A firm Patriot, in withſtanding all attempts againſt
his country, either by oppreffion, or corruption;
and indefatigable in pointing out, and encouraging
the means to render her ftate more flourishing. Of
incorruptible integrity, inviolable truth, and ftea-
dineſs in friendſhip. Utterly free from vice, and
living in the conftant difcharge of all Moral and
Chriſtian duties. If, in thefe times, there fhould
be found a man reſembling him in all theſe points,
it is fit the memorial of him, together with that of
his immortal compeer, fhould be handed down to
lateſt pofterity and that ſuch a one does exift, will
be acknowledged by all who have ever heard the
univerfally revered name of Sir GEORGE SAVILE.
To him, therefore, is the following Life of a
congenial Patriot infcribed by its Author; who has
long admired his character, and been well acquainted
with his worth, though a ſtranger to his perſon.
POST SCRIPT.
THE above was committed to the Prefs fome weeks
before the much-lamented death of the excellent man,
to whom it was addreffed; but the publication has by
fome accidents been deferred 'till now. That the Au-
thor had no intereſted view in his choice of a Patron
(though he muſt ever regret the occafion) he has now
an opportunity of fhewing, by letting the above Dedi-
cation remain in it's original ftate, and thus confecra-
ting to the memory of the dead, that tribute of praiſe,
fo justly due to the living.
INTRO-
INTRODUCTION.
N°
OTWITHSTANDING the feveral attempts to
gratify the curiofity of the world, in deli-
neating the Life and Character of the immortal
Swift, yet hitherto little fatisfactory has been pro-
duced on that fubject. The different, and often
oppoſite lights in which he has been ſhewn by the
feveral Writers, have occafioned an equal diverſity
of judgments in their ſeveral readers, according to
their various prepoffeffions; and even the moft can-
did are too often left in a ſtate of doubt, through
the want of having the truth laid before them fup-
ported by fufficient proofs.
Perhaps there never was a man whoſe true cha-
racter has been fo little known, or whofe conduct
at all times, even from his firſt ſetting out in life,
has been fo mifreprefented to the world, as his.
This was owing to ſeveral cauſes which will be laid
open in the following Work. But the chief ſource
of all the erroneous opinions entertained of him,
arofe from Swift himſelf, on account of fome fin-
gularities in his character, which at all times ex-
pofed him to the fhafts of envy and malice, while
he employed no other ſhield in his defence, but that
of conſcious integrity.
He had, early in life, from cauſes to be hereafter
explained, imbibed ſuch a ſtrong hatred to hypocrify,
that he fell into the oppofite extreme; and no mor-
tal ever took more pains to difplay his good quali-
A 2
ties
INTRODUCTION.
•
ties, and appear in the beft light to the world, than
he did to conceal his, or even to put on the fem-
blance of their contraries.
This humour affected his whole conduct, as well
in the more important duties, as in the common
offices of life.
Though a man of great piety, and true religion,
yet he carefully fhunned all oftentation of it: as an
inſtance of which, it is well known that during his
refidence in London, not being called upon by any
duty to officiate publickly in his clerical capacity, he
was feldom feen at church at the ufual hours that
pretenders to religion fhew themſelves there; but
he was a conftant attendant on early prayers, and a
frequent partaker of early Sacraments.
Though generous and charitable in his nature to
the higheſt degree, he ſeemed to part with money fo
reluctantly, and ſpoke ſo much about œconomy,
that he paffed for avaricious, and hard-hearted.
His very civilities bore the appearance of rude-
nefs, and his fineft compliments were conveyed un-
der the difguife of fatyr.
Lord Bolingbroke, who knew him well, in two
words, fummed up his character in this reſpect, by
ſaying, that Swift was a hypocrite reverſed.
In ſhort, he always appeared to the world in a
matk, which he never took off but in the company
of his moft intimate friends: and as the world can
judge only by appearances, no wonder they were fo
much miſtaken in the ideas formed of him.
When we confider that the time in which he
made the chief figure in life, was a ſeaſon wherein
faction
INTRODUCTION.
faction raged with the greateſt violence; that he was
looked upon as the principal champion of the Tory
caufe, and therefore was the common butt at which
all the Writers on the Whig fide levelled their ſhafts;
there will be no occafion to wonder, that out of the
many calumnies poured out againſt him, ſome of
them ſhould ſtick. Theſe were indeed fo nume-
rous, that we are told by himſelf, that in the ſpace
of not many years, upwards of a thouſand Pam-
phlets and Papers were written profeffedly againſt
him; to which he never deigned to give an anſwer,
nor endeavoured to wipe off any afperfion thrown
on him. Thus by the former part of his character,
juft laid open, he afforded his enemies fufficient
ground-work on which to raiſe what ſuperſtructure
of calumny they pleaſed, and as no defence was
made, it was daily fuffered to increafe. For he had
very unwifely laid it down as a maxim, "To act
uprightly, and pay no regard to the opinion of the
world *."
Thus, while he was admired, efteemed, beloved,
beyond any man of his time, by his particular friends,
not only on account of his fuperior talents, but his
pre-eminence in every kind of virtue; he was en-
vied, feared, and hated by his enemies, who con-
fifted of a whole virulent faction to a man. And
when we take in the general appetite for fcandal,
and the ſpirit of envy in the bulk of mankind, which
delights in the humiliation of an exalted character
• Mifs Vanhomrigh, in one of her letters to him, has the following
paffage. "You once had a maxim, which was-To act what was
right, and not mind what the world would ſay.”
A 3
We
INTRODUCTION,
we fhall not be ſurpriſed, that even among his own
party, he found few advocates to vindicate his fame;
and that he had no other fupport in this torrent of
abufe, but the confcioufnefs of his own rectitude,
and the unalterable attachment of his intimate friends:
among which number he could count ſuch as were
moſt eminent in thoſe days, both for talents and
virtue.
In this ftate Swift continued 'till the death of the
Queen; admired by all as a genius, deteſted by moſt
as a man. All the world now knows, upon that
event, with what implacable malice the Whigs
purſued their antagoniſts, as foon as they had got
all power into their hands. This ſpirit raged ſtill
more violently in Ireland, than in England; the
effects of which Swift fenfibly felt on retiring to his
Deanery. The ill name he had obtained in Lon-
don, followed him to Dublin; where he was the
object of general hatred for fome years. But when,
in proceſs of time, his true character came to be
known, and his exemplary conduct gave the lie to
the grofs miſrepreſentations that had been made of
him; when his fpirit of patriotiſm broke forth into
action, and ſaved his country from threatened ruin;
when it was feen that the great object of his life,
was to promote public good; that in the diſcharge
of all moral and religious duties, he had no fupe-
riour; in the choice and extent of his charities,
perhaps no equal; he obtained ſuch a degree of
public favour, as no man in that country had ever
reached. Praiſe was united to his name, admira-
tion and affection to his perfon; and this juft tribute
was
INTRODUCTION.
was ever after paid to him during his life, and to
his memory after his deceaſe; till a certain Author
arofe, bent upon fullying his fair fame, who, open-
ing the channels of calumny, long covered over by
time, and raking in them with a friendly induſtry,
once more brought their foul contents to light. Nor
was it an enemy that did this, but one who pro-
feffed himſelf Swift's friend, and who was during
his life-time, his greateſt flatterer; I mean John
Earl of Orrery.
The cruel manner in which he has treated the
memory of his friend Swift, as his Lordſhip in the
courſe of the work often affects to call him, had
fomething ſo ſurpriſing in it, that people were at a
lofs how to account for it, except by fuppofing it to
proceed from fome uncommon degree of malevo-
lence in his Lordship's nature. But though he can-
not be wholly cleared from an imputation of that
fort, yet I am perfuaded that his chief motive to it
was not quite of ſo black a die. His father had, in
his will, bequeathed his library from him; and this
circumſtance made the world conclude that he
looked upon his fon as a blockhead. This ftung
the young man to the quick; and we may fee how
deep an impreffion it made on him, by the account
he gives of it in one of his letters to his fon. It ſeems
to have been the chief object of his life afterwards,
to wipe away this ftigma, and convince the world of
the injuſtice done him, by publiſhing ſome Work
that might do him credit as a Writer. Confcious of
his want of genius to produce any thing original, he
applied himſelf diligently to a Tranflation of Pliny's
A 4
Letters;
INTRODUCTION.
Letters; but he was fo long about this tafk, and put
it into ſo many hands to correct it that Melmoth's
excellent tranflation of the fame Work, flipped into
the world before his, and foreftalled this avenue to
fame. Vexed at this diſappointment, he looked
cut for fome other way by which he might acquire
literary reputation, and he found no field ſo ſuited
to his talents, as that of criticifm; fince, to make
a figure there, required neither genius, nor deep
learning and therefore he might, with eaſe, arrive
at the title of a true critic, as deſcribed in the Tale
of a Tub. Of whom it had been remarked, "That
a true critic is a fort of mechanick fet up with a
ſtock and tools for his trade, at as little expence as
a taylor." But Swift denies this pofition" For,
(fays he) on the contrary, nothing is more certain,
that it requires greater layings out to be free of the
critics company, than that of any other you can
name. For, as to be a true beggar, it will coft the
richeſt candidate every groat he is worth; fo, be-
fore one can commence a true critic, it will coft a
man all the good qualities of his mind: which, per-
haps, for a lefs purchaſe, would be thought but an
indifferent bargain." As his Lordſhip has fairly
paid the purchaſe, it would be hard if he ſhould
be denied the title.
↑
The buſineſs now was, to find out a proper fub-
ject on which to exerciſe his talents in that way.
As there never had been publiſhed any Hiftory of
Swift's Life, he thought nothing could excite ge-
neral curiofity more than fome account of that ex-
traordinary man. It is true he was fupplied with
but
INTRODUCTION.
but ſcanty materials for fuch a Work; for though
he had lived a ſhort time in fome degree of inti-
macy with Swift, yet it was only in the latter part
of his life, when he was declined into the vale of
years, when his faculties were impaired, when his
temper, foured by difappointments, and his fpirits
funk by continual attacks of a cruel diforder, made
as great a change in his mind, as in his outward
form, fo that little of his former felf remained. To
draw his character at length, from obfervations made
at fuch a period, was the height of injuſtice; and
yet his Lordship had no opportunity of knowing
any thing of the brighter part of his days, but from
common report. For, as Swift was the laft man
in the world to talk much of himſelf, his Lordship's
acquaintance with him furnished him with no ma-
terials of that fort; he therefore had recourſe to
common fame, which, as I have before fhewn, had
been always buſy in calumniating that great man;
and with a cruel induftry he collected and revived
all the reports which had formerly been ſpread to
his diſadvantage. His Lordship's chief view in pub-
lithing this Work, being to acquire celebrity as an
Author-
hominum volitare per ora-
in order to obtain this end, he knew that fatyr was
more likely to procure a rapid fale to the book, than
panegyrick. All regard therefore to truth, juſtice,
honour, and humanity, was to be facrificed, when-
ever they came in competition with this great end.
The event did credit to his Lordſhip's fagacity,
for the Work had a rapid fale, and ſoon ran through
a variety
INTRODUCTION.
a variety of editions. This was owing to feveral
cauſes. The Whigs were then a great majority of
the nation, and in poffeffion of all the power.
Though their animofity against thofe of the oppo-
fite party had fomewhat fubfided, yet was it far
from being wholly extinguifhed. They had always
entertained an implacable hatred to Swift, as the
great champion of the other fide; which was not
extinguiſhed by his death, as in the cafe of others,
becauſe his immortal Works ftill continued a living
war againſt the baſe meaſures they purfued. It was
with delight therefore they read over a Work, which
painted him in the fame colours, in which they had
always endeavoured to repreſent him. The bulk
of mankind, finding that the accounts there given,
coincided with the general prejudices founded on
common fame, readily received them as true. And
that ſpirit of envy, an inmate in the breaſts of moſt
men, which delights in ſeeing thoſe of fuperior ta-
lents degraded, and brought down more to a level
with themſelves, was highly gratified by the peru-
fal of that book. Nor was it the leaft caufe of an
extenſive ſale, that it was written by a Lord; a thing
fo rare in latter times! Wonder, ufually accompa▾
nied by a bad tafte, looks out only for what is un-
common; and if a Work comes abroad under the
name of a Threſher, a Bricklayer, or a Lord, it is
fure to be eagerly fought after by the million.
To theſe, and fimilar cauſes, was owing the fa-
vourable reception this book met with; which, in
itſelf, contains little that could be approved of by
men of true taſte. What relates to Swift's Life, from
the fcantinefs of his materials, does not take up a
fixth
INTRODUCTION.
T
fixth portion of the whole. The greater part of the
remainder, conſiſts of uſeleſs or invidious criticiſms
on his Works. Yet all this not being fufficient to
make up a juſt volume, (according to the bookfel-
lers phrafe) he has eked it out from his common-
place book, in order to fhew his learning, by intro-
ducing ſeveral differtations, foreign to the ſubject in
hand fuch as thofe on Madneſs, Idiotifm; Cha-
racters of Homer, Ariftotle; of Ramus, Scotus, and
Aquinas; of Epicurus, Defcartes, and Gaffendi.
Remarks upon the Writings of Lord Bacon, Mil-
ton, Harrington, Algernon Sidney, Lord Clarendon,
Dr. Sprat, Sir William Temple, Addifon, Lord
Bolingbroke, &c. with many other impertinencies.
Not long after the publication of this Work, there
came out an Anſwer to it, under the title of " Ob-
fervations on Lord Orrery's Remarks on the Life
and Writings of Dr. Swift, afterwards known to be
written by Dr. Delany; who, from an early and
long intimacy with the Dean, was able to refute moſt
of the facts, upon which his Lordſhip grounded his
obfervations, by producing uncontrovertible proofs ta
the contrary. Yet, though this book was written
with great fpirit, and carried the evidence of truth
with it; as it was an anonymous publication, it
was little attended to, except by thoſe who wiſhed
well to the memory of the Dean. Befides, truth is
not the object fought after by thoſe, who are defirous
of remaining in an error.
Swift has an obfervation
on this head which will be found to be generally
true. "The ill talent of the world is fuch, that
thoſe who will be at pains enough to inform them-
felves in a malicious ftory, will take none at all to
be
INTRODUCTION.
1
be undeceived; nay, will be apt with fome reluc-
tance to admit a favourable truth." This obfervation
was never more ſtrongly verified than in the cafe before
us; for, while the book which calumniated Swift's
character, and endeavoured to depreciate his talents,
though poorly written, went through a great number
of editions; the fingle one of the Anfwer, incom-
parably fuperior in every thing which can recommend
Writings of that kind, ftill remains unfold.
But whatever favourable reception this book met
with in England, never did I know ſuch a univerfal
indignation as was excited in all ranks of people,
by the publication of it in Ireland. They were the
only proper judges of his character, who had an op-
portunity of knowing his conduct, during a refi-
dence of ſo many years. If they admired him for
his genius, they almoft adored him for his virtues,
In his public capacity, he was one of the trueft Pa-
triots that ever lived; and for the many important
fervices he did his country, he was hailed by the
general voice pater patria. In his private life, of
the ſtricteſt morals; and in the diſcharge of his cle-
rical duties, of exemplary piety. His charities were
boundleſs, and the whole buſineſs of his life was,
doing good. As party animofities had long before
fubfided, he had few enemies left; and even thofe
few, when their hatred, together with their fear,
had been buried in his grave, joined in doing all
juſtice to his memory.
To calumniate the charac-
ter of ſuch a man, was thought little leſs than facri-
lege; and the rage of the people was fuch, that it
vented itſelf even on the poor printer of the Work,
who became for a long time the object of public
5
odium.
INTRODUCTION.
odium. It was happy for his Lordſhip that he did
not pay a visit to that country during the ferment, for
he would, moft affuredly, have been grofsly infulted
by the populace, and avoided by all of a fuperior rank.
Dr. Delany's Anſwer was followed by another
from Deane Swift, Efq. As it came from a near
relation of the Dean's, it, at firft, excited fome ex-
pectation; which was foon fucceeded by diſappoint-
ment, and the Work configned to oblivion. Where
let it reft.
On the publication of a new edition of Swift's
Works, the proprietors applied to Dr. Hawkſworth
to write his Life. He was an Author of no fmall
eminence; a man of clear judgment, and great can-
dour. He quickly difcerned the truth from the falfe-
hood; wiped away many of the aſperſions that had
been thrown on Swift's character; and placed it, fo
far as he went, in its proper light. But as he had
no new materials of his own, and was confined to
fuch only as were contained in former publications,
the view he has given of his life is very imperfect;
many of the moſt important articles are omitted,
and others ftill left in a very doubtful ftate.
The laſt Writer who has given any account of
Swift, is Dr. Johnſon. Who ſeems to have under-
taken this taſk, rather from the neceffity he was
under of taking fome notice of him in the courſe
of his Biographical Hiſtory of the Engliſh Poets,
than from choice. He has prefented us only with
a ſhort abſtract of what he found in Dr. Hawkf-
worth, for which he makes the following apology.
“An account of Dr. Swift has been already collected
with great diligence and acutenefs, by Dr. Hawkf-
worth,
INTRODUCTION.
worth, according to a fcheme which I laid before
him in the intimacy of our friendſhip. I cannot
therefore be expected to fay much of a life, con-
cerning which I had long fince communicated my
thoughts, to a man capable of dignifying his narra-
tion, with fo much elegance of language, and force
of fentiment." Accordingly he has produced little
new on the ſubject, except fome obfervations of his
own, which are far from being favourable to the
character of Swift. It is much to be lamented, that
a man of his great abilities, did not chooſe to follow
his friend Hawkfworth in the paths of juft and
candid criticiſm, inftead of affociating himſelf with
Lord Orrery to the band of true critics. Of which
body he has fhewn himſelf no unworthy member,
not on this occafion only, but in the many fevere
ftrictures paffed on the Lives and Writings of fome
of the greateſt geniufes this country has produced;
to the no ſmall indignation of their feveral admirers,
and to the great regret of the Doctor's own. As
this Work is more likely to be generally read than
of the others; both on account of the great re-
putation of the Author, and as it will of courſe
preſent itſelf to the eyes of all who ſhall go through
his collection of Lives, I fhall hereafter take an op-
portunity of making fome comments upon thoſe
paffages, which tend to depreciate and mifreprefent
the character of ſo great a man.
any
Theſe ſeveral publications, which place the Life
and Character of Swift in very different, and often
oppofite points of light, have occafioned great di-
verfity in the judgments formed of them by the
world, according to the different degrees of preju-
dice,
INTRODUCTION.
But as
dice, or candour, in their feveral readers.
the ſale of the firſt Eſſay on this fubject, written by
Lord Orrery, was infinitely ſuperior to that of all the
others put together, the prepoffeffions in favour of
the accounts delivered by him, have, for reaſons
already afligned, made too deep an impreffion on the
bulk of mankind, to be eafily erafed. I have be-
fore taken notice of the ſcantinefs of his materials,
which yet he has not ranged in any regular order;
and which confift chiefly of detached facts, and
unconnected Anecdotes, fo that there is no appear-
ance of a whole. The portrait he has drawn of
him, puts one in mind of certain paintings to be
ſeen at the optician's in St. Paul's church-yard,
where we behold fome fcattered and diſtorted fea-
tures, covered with blotches of various colours, fo
that we cannot diſcover what it is intended to re-
prefent: 'till, by the application of a cylindrical
mirrour, we are furpriſed too fee ftart forth a face of
the fineſt proportioned features, and moſt beautiful
complexion. By ſuch an application of the mirrour
of truth I hope to fhew Swift in a fimilar light.
I have long wifhed for leifure to fet about this
tafk, which a life ſpent in a variety of laborious oc-
cupations has hitherto prevented. And even now I
am obliged to fufpend purſuits of more advan-
tageous kind with regard to myſelf, in order to ac-
compliſh it. But, reflecting, at this advanced period
of life, on the near approaches of old age, which might
foon difqualify me from carrying my defign into
execution, I determined to poftpone all other confi-
derations, that might ftand in the way of an object
I have had fo much at heart. The love I had to
his
INTRODUCTION.
I
1
his perſon, and the reverence in which I was taught,
from my earlieſt days, to hold his character, and
with which I had an opportunity of being well ac-
quainted, on account of the long intimacy fubfifting
between him and my father; and, above all, the
means I have in my power of refcuing his good name
from the afperfions thrown on it by foulmouthed
calumny, have made me think it an indifpenfible
duty, no longer to delay doing juftice to his memory.
From the above acknowledgement of my early
prepoffeffions in his favour, it may be thought that
I ſhall prove not an unprejudiced hiftorian: but,
though I am conſcious to myſelf that I fhall never
be guilty of any wilful mifrepreſentations, I know
too well how little weight all profeffions of impar-
tiality carry with them on fuch occafions, to trou-
ble the reader with any. I defire no credit to be
given to affertions or opinions not fupported by the
moſt convincing proofs: which therefore, in all
difputable points, I hope I fhall be indulged in pro-
ducing at full length. And I doubt not but that
the diſplay of Swift's true character and conduct in
life, though to the confufion of his maligners, and
diſappointment of the envious and malevolent, will
give great fatisfaction to all good minds; as it is of
moment to the general cauſe of religion and morality,
to make it appear, that the greateſt Genius of the
age, was, at the fame time, a man of the trueft piety,
and moſt exalted virtue.
THE
THE
LIF
I FE
O F
DOCTOR SWIFT.
S
SECTION I.
WIFT was defcended from an ancient family in
Yorkshire, of no fmall note, and confiderable
property. He was of the younger branch *. His
grandfather, the Revd. Thomas Swift, was poffeffed of
a good eftate, and was diftinguiſhed above any man of
his ſtation in life, for his attachment to Charles I. and
the ſufferings he underwent in fupport of the royal caufe,
by which his fortune was entirely ruined. He had ten
fons, and three daughters. Five of his fons went to
feek their fortune in Ireland: the fourth of whom, Jo-
nathan, was father to the famous Dr. Swift. He had
married Mrs. Abigail Erick, defcended from an ancient
family of that name in Leiceſterſhire, but with little or
no fortune. He died young, in about two years after
his marriage, feven months before the birth of his only
fon; and as he was but juft beginning the world, left
his widow in very diftreffed circumftances.
* For farther particulars of Swift's family, vid. Appendix.
B
JONA-
2
THE LIFE OF
JONATHAN SWIFT, afterwards the celebrated Dean
of St. Patrick's, was born on the 30th of November
1667, in Hoey's-court, Dublin. When he was but a
year old, he was, without the knowledge of his mother
or relations, ftolen away by his nurfe, and carried to
Whitehaven; which place fhe was under a neceffity of
vifiting, on account of the illneſs of a relation, from
whom he expected a legacy; and, as is ufual among
Iriſh nurſes, ſhe bore fuch an affection to the child,
that ſhe could not think of going without him. There
he continued for almoft three years; and fhe took fuch
care of him, that he had learned to fpell, and could
read any chapter in the Bible before he was five years
old.
At the age of fix he was fent to the fchool of Kil-
kenny; and at fourteen admitted into the Univerſity of
Dublin. The expence of his education being defrayed
by his uncle Godwin Swift, the eldeſt of the brothers
who had fettled in Ireland.
He was a lawyer of great
eminence, and had made confiderable fums of money,
which were for the most part fquandered away in idle.
projects. By means of which, foon after his nephew
had entered the College, he found himſelf involved in
great difficulties; and being father of a numerous off-
fpring by four wives, he was under a neceffity of re-
ducing the ftipend allowed to his nephew for his fup-
port at the Univerfity, as low as poffible. The real
fituation of Godwin's affairs not being then known to
the world, and as he was looked upon to be much the
richeft of the family, Swift's other relations feemed at
that time to think that their aid was not at all necef-
fary; fo that he was obliged to make the beft fhift he
could, with the wretched allowance that his uncle gave
him. Thus was one of the moſt aſpiring and liberal
minds in the world, early checked and confined, by the
narrownefs
DOCTOR SWIFT.
3.
narrowness of his circumſtances; with this bitter aggra-
vation to a generous fpirit, that the fmall pittance af-
forded by his uncle, feemed to him, from the manner
in which it was given, rather as an alms doled out for
charity, than an act of beneficence due from fo near a
relation; who was fuppofed by him, as well as by the
reft of the world, to be in circumftances that might
have afforded a much more liberal ftipend, without
prejudice to his own family. Under this load did the
fpirit of Swift groan for the ſpace of near feven years
that he refided in the College of Dublin; which made
fo deep an impreffion on him, that he never afterwards
could think with patience of his uncle Godwin, nor
could heartily forgive the neglect fhewn him during
that time by his other relations.
The uneafy fituation of mind which a young man of
high ſpirit must have been in, under fuch circum-
ftances, produced confequences likely to prove de-
ftructive of his future fortunes. For, in fuch a ftate,
he could not bear to give the neceffary application to
fome of the more dry parts of the academick ftudies, for
which he had indeed naturally no great reliſh; but paſ-
fed his time chiefly in reading books of hiſtory and
poetry; which were better fuited to his tafte, and
more calculated to relieve the troubles of his mind.
In confequence of this, when the time came for his ta-
king the degree of Bachelor of Arts, he was ſtopped,
as he himself expreffes it, for dulnefs and infufficiency.
It is to be ſuppoſed that the word dullnefs was on this
occafion uſed by Swift jocofely, as the caufe affigned for
ſtopping any perſon of a degree, is anfwering badly in
any branch of literature appointed for that particular
examination; which does not neceffarily imply dull-
nefs, as it may as well proceed from idlenefs. But in
Swift's cafe it was rather to be imputed to contumacy,
B 2
than
4.
THE LIFE OF
than either the one or the other. For the fact is, there
was one branch of the examination, on which the great-
eft ftrefs was laid in thofe days, in which he could not
be ſaid to anſwer badly, for he did not attempt to an-
fwer at all. This account I had from his own lips.
He told me that he had made many efforts, upon his
entering the College, to read fome of the old treatifes
on logic writ by Smeglefius, Keckermannus, Burgerf-
dicius, &c. and that he never had patience to go
through three pages of any of them, he was fo dif-
gufted at the ftupidity of the work. When he was ur-
ged by his tutor to make himſelf maſter of this branch,
then in high eftimation, and held effentially neceſſary
to the taking of a degree; Swift afked him, what it
was he was to learn from thoſe books? His tutor told
him, the art of reafoning. Swift faid that he found no
want of any fuch art; that he could reafon very well
without it; and that as far as he could obferve, they
who had made the greateft proficiency in logic, had,
inftead of the art of reafoning, acquired the art of
wrangling; and inftead of clearing up obfcurities,
had learned how to perplex matters that were clear
enough before. For his own part, he was contented
with that portion of reafon which God had given him,
and he would leave it to time and experience to
ftrengthen and direct it properly; nor would he run
the risk of having it warped or falfely biaffed, by any
fyftem of rules laid down by fuch ftupid writers; of
the bad effects of which he had but too many examples
before his eyes, in thofe reckoned the moſt acute logi-
cians. And accordingly he made a firm reſolution that
he never would read any of thoſe books. Which he fo
pertinaciouſly adhered to, that though he was ſtopped
of his degree the firft time of fitting for it, on account
of his not anfwering in that branch, he went into
the
DOCTOR SWIFT.
5
the hall a fecond time, as ill prepared in that reſpect
as before; and would alſo have been ſtopped a fecond
time, on the fame account, if the intereft of his friends,
who well knew the inflexibility of his temper, had not
ſtepped in, and obtained it for him; though in a man-
ner little to his credit, as it was inferted in the Col-
lege Regiſtry, that he obtained it fpeciali gratia, by
ſpecial favour; where it ftill remains upon record.
In going through the ufual forms of difputation for
his degree, he told me he was utterly unacquainted
even with the logical terms, and anſwered the argu-
ments of his opponents in his own manner, which the
Proctor put into proper form. There was one circum-
ſtance in the account which he gave of this, that fur-
priſed me with regard to his memory; for he told me
the feveral queſtions on which he difputed, and repeated
all the arguments ufed by his opponents in fyllogiftick
form, together with his anfwers.
He remained in the College near three years after
this, not through choice, but neceffity; little known
or regarded. By fcholars he was eſteemed a block-
head; and as the lownefs of his circumſtances would
not permit him to keep company of an equal rank with
himſelf, upon an equal footing, he fcorned to take up
with thoſe of a lower claſs, or to be obliged to thoſe
of a higher. He lived therefore much alone, and his
time was employed in purfuing his courfe of reading in
hiſtory and poetry, then very unfafhionable studies for
an academick; or in gloomy meditations on his un-
happy circumstances. Yet, under this heavy preffure,
the force of his genius broke out, in the firſt rude draft
of the Tale of a Tub, written by him at the age of
nineteen, though communicated to no-body but his
chamber-fellow Mr. Waryng; who, after the publica-
tion of the book, made no fcruple to declare that he
B 3
had
6
THE LIFE OF
had read the firft fketch of it in Swift's hand-writing,
when he was of that age.
Soon after this, his uncle Godwin was feized with a
lethargy, which rendered him incapable of buſineſs;
and then it was that the broken ftate of his affairs was
made public. Swift now loft even the poor fupport
that he had before; but his uncle William fupplied the
place of Godwin to him, though not in a more enlar-
ged way, which could not be expected from his cir-
cumftances; yet with fo much better a grace, as fome-
what lightened the burden of dependance, and engaged
Swift's gratitude afterwards, who diftinguifhed him by
the title of the beft of his relations. He had no ex-
pectation however of receiving any thing more from
him than what was abfolutely neceffary for his fup-
port; and his chief hopes now for any thing beyond
that, reſted in his coufin Willoughby Swift, eldeſt fon
of his uncle Godwin, a confiderable merchant at Lif
bon. Nor was he difappointed in his expectations.
For, foon after the account of his father's unhappy fi-
tuation had reached Willoughby Swift at Lifbon, he,
reflecting that his coufin Jonathan's deftitute condition.
demanded immediate relief, fent him a preſent of a
larger fum than ever Jonathan had been mafter of in
his life before. This fupply arrived at a critical junc-
ture; when Swift, without a penny in his purſe, was
defpondingly looking out of his chamber-window, to
gape away the time, and happened to caft his eye upon
a fea-faring man, who feemed to be making enquiries
after fome body's chambers. The thought immedi-
ately came into Swift's head, that this might be fome
maſter of a veſſel who was the bearer of a prefent to
him from his coufin at Lifbon. He faw him enter the
building with pleafing expectation, and foon after heard
a rap at his door, which he eagerly opening, was ac-
cofted
DOCTOR SWIFT.
7
cofted by the failor with-"Is your name Jonathan
Swift?" Yes! "Why then I have fomething for you
from Maſter Willoughby Swift of Lisbon." He then
drew out a large leathern bag, and poured out the con-
tents, which were filver cobs, upon the table. Swift,
enraptured at the fight, in the firft tranfports of his
heart, puſhed over a large number of them, without
reckoning, to the failor, as a reward for his trouble;
but the honeſt tar declined taking any, faying that he
would do more than that for good Mafter Willoughby.
This was the firft time that Swift's difpofition was tried
with regard to the management of money; and he faid
that the reflection of his conftant fufferings through
the want of it, made him hufband it fo well, that he
was never afterwards without fome in his purfe.
Soon after this, upon the breaking out of the war in
Ireland, Swift determined to leave that kingdom, and
to vifit his mother at Leiceſter, in order to confult with
her upon his future plan of life.
Such was the opening of this great man's life; and
from fuch a beginning, who could at that time have
imagined that fuch mighty things were to enfue? He
was now in his one-and-twentieth-year; unqualified for
any profeffion but that of the church; in which he had
no profpect of fucceeding from intereft; and the dif
graceful manner of his taking his degree, was a ftrong
bar to any hopes on the ſcore of merit. He had made
no advances in any of the uſeful ſtudies neceſſary to
put a young man forward in the world; the reclufeneſs
of his life had rendered him little known; and a tem-
per naturally fplenetic, fowered by the mifery of his fi-
tuation, did not qualify him much for making perfo-
nal friends. How unpromifing were the profpects of
fuch a mar, juft entering into the world, under fuch
circumftar res! And yet it is to thofe very circum-
B 4
ftances,
8.
THE LIFE OF
ftances, probably, that the world owes, a Swift; to the
want of money, want of learning, want of friends.
Whoever is acquainted at all with the life and writings.
of Swift, muft fee that he had an uncommon ſhare of
ſpirit and fire in his conftitution. Such, as had it not
been kept under during the heat of youth, would pro-
bably have precipitated him into fome extravagant
courfes. Nothing less than the lownefs of his circum-
ftances from his birth, could have kept that fire from
burſting out; nothing less than the galling yoke of de-
pendance, could have reſtrained that proud ſpirit within
due bounds. His poverty and his pride were two ex-
cellent guards fet over him, during that moft danger-
ous time of life, to fix and keep him in a courſe of
virtue. The one debarred him from exceffes in the
pleaſureable gratification of youth, which money only
can procure; the other, kept him from endeavouring
to obtain from the purfe of others, by mean com-
pliances, any pleaſures that he could not purchafe from
his own fund. Thus, neceffarily fixed in a courfe of
temperance, the practice of other moral duties became
eafy to him. And indeed there was no flaw to be found
in his moral character, during his refidence in the Col-
lege, however low his parts might be rated.
Thus far I have fhewn the benefits which were pro-
bably derived to him from his want of fortune. I fhall
now fhew what advantages it is likely he derived from
want of learning.
Had Swift met with fufficient encouragement to ap-
ply himſelf to the learning of the times; had his fitua-
tion in the College been rendered eafy to him, fo that
he might have purfued his ftudies with an undisturbed
mind; had his emulation been rouzed in fuch a way as
to make him enter into a competition with thofe of his
own ftanding; it is highly probable, from the greatnefs
of
DOCTOR
9
SWIFT.
of his parts, that he would have thrown all competitors
at a diſtance. And in that cafe, he might have acqui-
red a fondneſs for thofe ftudies by which he obtained
fame, however difagreeable they might have been to
him at firſt. He might have proved the foremoſt Lo-
gician, Metaphyfician, or Mathematician of his time;
he might have paft his life, like fome of the moſt emi-
nent of his fellow ftudents, in ufelefs fpeculations; and
inftead of writing a Laputa, he might himſelf have been
qualified for a profefforſhip in the academy of that airy
region.
Let us only fuppofe Swift to have been a diftinguifh..
ed ſcholar in the Univerſity, and we may reaſonably
fuppofe alfo, that, circumftanced as he was, his friends
would have made him fit for a fellowſhip there, as the
fureſt and beſt proviſion for any one fo educated. Or
elfe, encouraged by the hopeful expectations raiſed
from the diſtinguiſhed figure he made in the College,
they would have pufhed all their intereft to have gotten
him fome fmall preferment in the Church. In either
of which cafes, the Swift of the world might have been
loft in a Univerfity Monk, or a Country Vicar. On
the other hand, the difgrace thrown on him in the Col-
lege, deprived him of all hopes of preferment, and
rendered his friends fo cold to his intereft, that he had
no expectations of future fupport, but by changing the
fcene to another country; where only there was a field
large enough for the exertion of thofe high talents,
which yet in a great meaſure lay dormant in him.
And with refpect to the third article, the want of
friends; had it not been for that circumftance, he would
not have been under a neceffity of going to feek for
new ones, in another country; and he might probably
never have fallen into the hands of that particular
friend, who was perhaps the only one living, capable of
forming
10
THE LIFE OF
"
forming his mind to thofe great things which he after-
wards executed.
It was in the year 1688 that Swift left Ireland;
he was then in his one-and-twentieth year. Sup-
poſe him landed in a country where he was utterly
unknown, and without recommendatory letters that
might introduce him to the acquaintance, or procure
him the affiſtance of any one in that country, with re-
gard to any future plan of life. Let us ftop a while,
and furvey the future Swift, fetting out on foot from
Cheſter, in order to go to a mother, who was utterly in-
capable of affording him the leaſt affiſtance, as ſhe her-
felf was chiefly fupported by prefents and contribu-
tions from her relations. One can hardly imagine a
fituation more hopeleſs with regard to externals; and
with refpect to his own internal powers, he had yet gi-
ven no proofs of thofe, which would not rather occa-
fion defpondency in his relations, than raiſe in them
any hopes of his being able to puſh his own way in the
world. And indeed at that juncture perhaps there
were few living lefs qualified than he to do any thing
for his own fupport.
+
The world was all before him where to chooſe
His place of reft, and Providence his guide.
And he feems indeed to have been then under the
immediate guidance of Providence; for, hopeleſs as
the end of fuch a journey might at that time have ap-
peared, it proved in fact the means of all his future.
greatneſs.
After a refidence of fome months with his mother,
he laid before her the uncomfortableneſs of his prefent
fituation, and the gloominefs of his future profpects;
requeſting her advice what courfe he ſhould purſue.
She clearly faw that her fon's cafe required the affift-
ance
DOCTOR SWIFT.
11
ance of fome powerful friend, and the unfortunate can
feldom number fuch among their acquaintance. She
recollected however that Sir William Temple's Lady
was her relation; and that there had been a long inti-
macy between Sir John Temple, father to Sir William,
and the family of the Swifts in Ireland; fhe knew alſo
that a couſin German of her fon's, the Revd. Thomas
Swift, had been Chaplain to Sir William Temple, and
had been provided for by him in the Church, on the
fcore of family connections. She recommended it
therefore to her fon to go to Sir William, and make
his cafe known to him.
*
However grating fuch an application might be to the
proud ſpirit of Swift, yet, as it was his only refource,
he followed his mother's advice, and foon afterwards
prefented himſelf to Sir William Temple at Shene,
requeſting his advice and affiftance. Sir William was
a man of too much goodneſs and humanity, not to take
compaſſion on a young man born an orphan, without
fortune, diftreffed from his cradle, and without friends.
or intereſt to puſh him forward in life; who at the fame
time had a double claim to his favour, as related by
blood to a wife for whom he had the highest honour
and affection; and as the offspring of a family with
whom his father had lived in the clofeft ties of friend-
fhip. He accordingly received him cheerfully into his
houſe, and treated him with that hofpitable kindneſs,
which family connections, and what was ftill more to
a generous mind, his unfortunate fituation demanded
of him. But yet we do not find, for a long time, that
his kindefs to him was encreaſed from motives of per-
* Sir William Temple's own place of refidence was a feat which he
had purchaſed, called Moor-Park, near Farnham in Surrey ; but at
the time of the Revolution, as Moor-Park grew unfafe by lying in the
way of both armies, Sir William went back to his houfe at Shene,
which he had given up to his fon.
fonal
THE LIFE OF
fonal regard, on a nearer acquaintance with him. It
is probable that Sir William early founded his depth of
knowledge, and examined into the progrefs he had
made in his ſtudies; which was far from being fo great
as might have been expected from his courfe of educa-
tion, and time of life. The first good office that Sir
William could do him, therefore, was to put him into
a courfe of reading, in order that he might redeem loft
time. Accordingly we find, that Swift, during his re-
fidence with Sir William, applied himſelf with great
affiduity to his ftudies; in which, for the fpace of eight
years, he was employed, by his own account, at leaft
eight hours a day, with but few intermiffions. The
firſt of theſe was occafioned by an illneſs, which he at-
tributed to a furfeit of fruit, that brought on a cold-
neſs of ſtomach, and giddineſs of head, which purſued
him more or lefs during the remainder of his life.
ter two years refidence at Moor-Park, to which place
he had removed with Sir William when the troubles
were ended, his ftate of health was fo bad, that he was
adviſed by phyſicians to try the effects of his native air,
towards reſtoring it. In purſuance of this advice he
revifited Ireland; but finding himfelf growing worſe
there, he foon returned to Moor-Park; where, upon
the abatement of his illneſs, he renewed his applica-
tion to his ftudies.
Af
It does not appear that Sir William Temple knew
any thing of the value of his young gueft, till about
this time; and Swift himſelf fays that it was then he
began to grow into fome confidence with him. The little
progrefs Swift had made in learning at his firſt arrival
at Shene, muſt have given Sir William but a mean opi-
nion of his capacity; and the few things which he
wrote during his first two years refidence with him,
could have given him no very high idea of his genius.
For
DOCTOR SWIFT.
13
For Swift had at that time ſo far miſtaken his talents,
that he tried his ftrength only in Pindarick Odes; in
which, though there appeared fome vigour of mind,
and efforts of an uncommon genius, yet it was appa-
rent that it was vigour improperly exerted, and the ef-
forts of a genius mifapplied. The fentiments were
ftrained and crowded; and the numbers irregular and
harth *. How then fhall we account for the fudden
change of Sir William's fentiments towards him? It
could not be on account of his progrefs in literature,
for he had not had time enough to ftand highly in the
opinion of fo diftinguiſhed a ſcholar as Sir William was,
on that ſcore. And indeed, with all his affiduity, it is
probable that he had not then fo far recovered loft time,
as to be maſter of the learning which his ftanding re-
quired. The most probable conjecture is, that Swift
had, at his leifure, reviſed and corrected his Tale of a
Tub, which was fketched out by him in the College,
as was before mentioned, and now firft fhewed it to Sir
William. A work, bearing fuch a ſtamp of original
genius, muft, in a man of Sir William Temple's de-
licate tafte, and nice difcernment, have at once raiſed
the author into a high place in his esteem, and made
him look upon him afterwards with very different eyes.
Accordingly we find that, about this period, he truſted
him with matters of great importance. He introduced
him to King William, and fuffered him to be prefent
at fome of their conferences t. He employed him in
a com-
*Two of thefe Odes, as being the firft that have appeared of his
poetical writings, are placed, on that account only, at the head of the
first volume of his poems.
+ Sir William had been Ambaffador and Mediator of a general
peace at Nimeguen before the Revolution. In this character he con-
traced a cloſe intimacy with the Prince of Orange; who, after he had
afcended the English throne, frequently vifited him at Shene, and took
his
14
THE LIFE OF
a commiffion of confequence to the King, when he
was unable to attend him himſelf, which required dex-
terity, and knowledge in the Hiftory of England.
And above all, he confulted him conftantly, and em-
ployed him in the revifal and correction of his own
works.
In this fituation Swift continued, ftill applying cloſely
to his ftudies till the year 1692, when he went to Ox-
ford in order to take his Mafter's degree; to which he
was admitted on the 5th of July 1692.
From his delaying fo long to take this degree, it may
be concluded that Swift was determined to prepare
himſelf for it in fuch a way, as might do him credit in
the eyes of the Univerſity, in order to wipe off the dif
grace of the former. And we may judge that his pro-
grefs in academick ftudies had been very ſmall, when
it required four years application before he thought
himſelf qualified to appear at Oxford with that view.
Nor can there be any other reafon affigned for his not
having done it focner, as he was of fufficient ſtanding
to have applied for his Mafter's degree in the first year
of his refidence at Moor-Park. From the fatisfaction
he expreffes at the behaviour of the University of Ox-
ford, and the civilities he met with there, it is probable
that he was not undiftinguiſhed as a ſcholar; and that
he found the firft end he propoſed by his ftudies, fully
anfwered.
his advice in affairs of the utmost importance. Sir William being then
lame of the gout, fubftituted Swift to attend his Majefty in his walks
round the gardens; who admitted him to fuch familiarity, that he
fhewed him how to cut afparagus in the Dutch faſhion; and once
offered to make him a Captain of Horie. But Swift appears to have
fixed his mind very early on an ecclefiaftical life; and it is therefore
probable that upon declining this offer, ne obtained a promife of
preferment in the Church; fo, in a letter to his uncle William, dated
1692, he fays," I am not to take orders 'till the King gives me a
Prebend."
From
DOCTOR SWIFT.
15
From Oxford he paid a vifit to his mother, and then
returned to Moor-Park. Not with a defign of continu-
ing there, for he now wanted to enter into the world,
but in expectation of getting fome preferment by means
of Sir William's intereft with the King, which he had
promiſed to exert in his behalf, and had already indeed
obtained an affurance of that fort from his Majefty.
But Swift at this time entertained fome fufpicion, that
Sir William was not fo forward on the occafion as he
could wiſh; and the reaſon he affigned for it was, that
Sir William was apprehenfive Swift would leave him,
and upon fome accounts, he thought him a little necessary
to him *. Swift was indeed by this time become very
neceffary to a man in the decline of life, generally in an
ill ſtate of health, and often tortured with the moſt ex-
cruciating diforders. The lofs of fuch a companion as
Swift, after fuch a long domeftic intimacy, would have
been like the lofs of a limb. Befides, as he ſeems to
have had nothing fo much at heart in the latter part of
his life, as the leaving behind him a corrected copy of
all his writings, done under his own infpection, he
could not bear the thought that Swift fhould leave him,
till that point was accompliſhed. He had already ex-
perienced the ufe that he was of to him in that refpect,
and knew that his place was not eafily to be fupplied.
And his ill ftate of health occafioned the work to ad-
vance but flowly, as it was only during the more lucid
intervals he applied to it. On theſe accounts, Sir Wil-
liam was in no hafte to procure any preferment for his
young friend, to the great mortification of Swift. In
this uneafy ftate he continued at Moor-Park two years
longer, and then, quite wearied out with fruitlefs ex-
pectation, he determined at all events to leave Sir Wil-
* Thus Swift expreffes himself in a letter to his uncle William,
dated Micor-Park, November 29, 1692.
I
liam,
16
LIFE OF
THE
liam, and take his chance in the world *.
When this
his refolution was made known to Sir William, he re-
ceived it with evident marks of diſpleaſure; but that
he might feem to fulfil his promife to Swift, of ma-
king fome provifion for him, he coldly told him, that
fince he was fo impatient, it was not at that time in
his power to do any thing more for him, than to give
him an employment, then vacant in the office of the
Rolls in Ireland, to the value of fomewhat more than
a hundred pounds a year. Swift immediately replied,
"That, fince he had now an opportunity of living,
without being driven into the Church for a mainte-
nance, he was refolved to go to Ireland to take Holy
Orders." To comprehend the full force of this reply,
it will be neceffary to know that Sir William was well
acquainted with Swift's intention of going into the
Church, from which he had been hitherto reftrained
only by a fcruple of appearing to enter upon that
holy office, rather from motives of neceffity, than
choice. He therefore faw through Sir William's de-
fign, in making him the offer of an employment which
he was fure would not be accepted by Swift. With
great readineſs and fpirit therefore, he made uſe of
this circumſtance, at once to fhew a proper refentment
of the indelicacy of Sir William's behaviour towards
him; and to affign an unanswerable motive for imme-
diately carrying his long formed refolution into act.
Their parting on this occafion was not without manifeft
diſpleaſure on the fide of Sir William, and fome degree
of refentment, not ill-founded, on the part of Swift.
He procured a recommendation to Lord Capel, then
Lord Deputy of Ireland, from whom is uncertain,
but it may be prefumed, from the finallneſs of the pro-
* See his account of this, in his letter to his coufin Deane Swift,
dated June 3, 1694.
vifion
DOCTOR SWIFT.
17
viſion made for him in confequence of it, that it was
therefore, that Sir William
not a powerful one; and
Temple had no fhare in it. He went over to Ireland,
and was ordained in September 1694, being then almoſt
27 years old. Soon after this, Lord Capel gave him
the prebend of Kilroot in the diocefe of Connor, worth
about 100 pounds a year. To this place Swift imme-
diately repaired, in order to refide there, and diſcharge
the duties of his office. He now for the first time en-
joyed the ſweets of independence; but thefe fweets
were not of long duration, as he foon faw that the
fcene of his independence could not poffibly afford him
any other fatisfaction in life. He found himſelf fituated
in an obfcure corner of an obfcure country, ill accom-
modated with the conveniencies of life, without a
friend, a companion, or any converfation that he could
relish. What a contraft was this to the delightful ſcene
at Moor-Park! replete with all the beauties, and
adorned with every elegance, that could charm the
fenfes, or captivate the fancy; and where the mind
had a continual feaft of the moſt rational and refined
converfation. But ftill the spirit of Swift fo far prized
liberty above all other bleffings in life, that had he had
no other alternative, he would certainly have preferred
that uncomfortable fituation to any ſtate of dependance.
But he now began to feel his own ftrength, and, con-
fcious of his powers, could not conceive they were
meant for fo narrow a fphere as that of a fmall country
living. He felt an irrefiftible impulfe once more to
launch into the world, and make his way to a ſtation
more fuited to his difpofition. In this temper of mind
he received accounts from his friends, that Sir William
Temple's ill-founded refentment had fubfided foon after
his departure, and that he was often heard to lament
the lofs of his company. Soon after, upon receiving
a kind
C
18
THE LIFE OF
!
:
a kind letter from Sir William himſelf, with an invita-
tion to Moor-Park, his refolution was at once fixed.
He determined upon returning to England, but first re-
folved to reſign his living. As there were fome fingu-
lar circumftances attending this refignation, I fhall re-
late them exactly as I received them from a Gentleman
of veracity, who declared he had the account from
Swift himself. He faid, that foon after he had come
to this determination, he was taking his cuſtomary walk,
and met an elderly clergyman riding along the road.
After the ufual falutation, he fell into difcourfe with
him; and was fo pleafed with what paffed between
them, that he invited him to dinner, and eafily pre-
vailed on him to be his gueft for a day or two. During
this time Swift found that he was a man of great fim-
plicity of manners, good fenfe, fome learning, and
unaffected piety: and, upon enquiring into his cir-
cumftances, learned, that he had only a curacy of
forty pounds a year, for the maintenance of a wife and
eight children. Swift lamented his fituation, and told
him that he had fome intereft which he would exert in
his behalf, and endeavour to procure him a living, if he
would only lend him his black mare to carry him to
Dublin; for Swift was not at that time poffeffed of a
horfe. The clergyman readily confented, and went
home on foot; promifing to meet him at any time he
fhould appoint on his return. Swift went to town, and
reprefented the poor curate's cafe to his patron in fuch
ftrong terms, as foon prevailed on him to confent that
Swift's living fhould, upon his refignation, which was
propofed at the fame time, be made over to him. Nor
was this a difficult point to accompliſh, as, befide mo-
tives of humanity, it was for the intereft of the patron
to accept of an old incumbent of near fixty years of
age, in the room of a young one of twenty-feven.
Swift
DOCTOR SWIFT.
19
Swift, having difpatched this bufinefs, returned as foon
as poffible to the country, and gave notice to the old
clergyman to meet him. He found him at his door on
his arrival, and immediately upon their going into the
parlour put the prefentation into his hand, defiring him
to read it. Swift faid, that while he was doing fo, he
kept his eyes ſteadily fixed on the old man's face, in
which the joy of finding that it was a prefentation to a
living, was viſibly expreffed: but when he came to that
part of the writing which mentioned the name of the
living, and found that it was Swift's own which he had
refigned in his favour, he looked at him for fome time
in filence, with ſuch a mixed emotion of aftoniſhment
and gratitude in his countenance, as prefented to Swift
one of the moft ftriking pictures of the mind expreffed
in the face, he had ever feen; and he faid that he never
before had felt fuch exquifite pleaſure of mind as he
did in that hour. Nor is this to be wondered at, fince
it was the first opportunity he ever had of letting loofe
that ſpirit of generofity and benevolence, whofe great-
neſs and vigour, when pent up in his own breaft by po-
verty and dependance, ferved only as an evil spirit to
torment him. And when we confider the nature of this
action in all its circumftances, that the object of it was
the worthy father of a numerous family, for whom it
was impoffible he could make any provifion from fo
poor an income as he then poffeffed; that the motive to
it was pure difinterefted benevolence, without any alloy,
as the man was a ftranger to him, and therefore there
could be no incentive to it from ties of blood or friend-
fhip; that the gift was fuch as would brighten the latter
days of a well-fpent life, though hitherto clouded with
indigence, and make a whole family happy; and laftly,
that this gift was not like that of a wealthy man, who
might eaſily ſpare it without feeling the lofs, but the
whole
C 2
20
THE LIFE OF
whole visible income Swift poffeffed for prefent and fu
ture fupport, the fole means in his power of preferving
that independence which he had fo long fighed for, and
at laft with difficulty obtained: it is no wonder, I fay,
all theſe circumftances confidered, that the great mind
of Swift ſhould have exulted in fo glorious an oppor-
tunity of paying off at once the large debt which, from
the narrowness of his circumftances, he had been con-
tracting all his life, to benevolence.
After feeing his fucceffor eſtabliſhed in the living, he
foon fettled his affairs, and fet out for Dublin, in his
way to England. The old man, before his departure,
preffed him to accept of his black mare, which was the
most valuable of his poffeffions, as a finall token of his
gratitude; and Swift was too well acquainted with the
fenfibility of a generous heart, under obligations, to
hurt him by a refuſal.
With about fourſcore pounds in his pocket, which by
his own account was all his worldly wealth at that time,
Swift once more embarked for England, and arrived at
Moor-Park in the year 1695, after fomewhat more than
a year's abfence.
To all appearance he had but little bettered his con-
dition by his journey to Ireland. He was now returned
to the fame ftate of dependance, which had before pro-
ved fo irkſome to him, that he determined to break
away from it, at all hazards. But there were ſeveral
circumstances which contributed to make his preſent
ftate, though till dependant, of a very different nature
from the former. In the first place, his fituation now
was not the effect of neceffity or conftraint, but the
object of his choice. In the next, he was highly gra-
tified with an opportunity of fhewing his regard and at-
tachment to Sir William, by returning voluntarily to
him, when it was in his power to have lived independ-
ently,
I
DOCTOR SWIFT.
'
21
ently, though he fcorned to be compelled into it from
motives of neceffity. Then, by fo readily complying
with Sir William's requeſt, and giving up all his viſible
ſupport in order to do fo, he had laid him under ſuch
an obligation as entitled him to all future favours,
which might be in his power to beſtow. Accordingly
we find, that Swift's mind being now perfectly at eaſe,
and Sir William confidering his return, with all its cir-
cumſtances, in the moft obliging light, thefe two great
men lived together to the time of Sir William's death,
in the moſt perfect harmony, and with marks of mutual
confidence and efteem. Nor do we find during that
fpace, which was almoſt four years, that Swift was at
all preffing on the fcore of preferment promiſed him;
which, had he been fo, he would certainly have ob-
tained; but, from a true generofity of mind, he ſeem-
ed determined to ſtay with his friend, in order to cheer
his latter days, which were embittered by illneſs and
pain, and required fuch a cordial to make life fupport-
able; and to lay afide all views with regard to himſelf,
till his friend's death fhould releaſe him from the bene-
volent task, and leave him at liberty to purfue his own
intereft.
;
During this ſpace Swift's time was fully and ufefully
employed. He devoted eight hours a day, as before,
to the proſecution of his * ftudies. His function as
a clergyman was confined to a private family, but he
was regular in the diſcharge of it, having ſtated times
in the morning and evening for their meeting together
at prayers. He took upon himself the office of pre-
ceptor to a young Lady, niece to Sir William Temple,
refiding
*As many may be curious to know of what nature his ftudies were,
the following account of the books which he read in one year, pre-
ferved in his own hand-writing, may afford fome fatisfaction.
C 3
From
22
THE LIFE OF
:
*
refiding in his houfe, teaching her Engliſh, and direct-
ing her in a proper courfe of reading. At the fame
time Mifs Johnſon, afterwards fo well known by the
name of Stella, was a fellow ftudent with the other
young Lady, and partook of the benefit of the fame
inftruction. Mifs Johnfon was daughter to Sir William
Temple's fteward, and was at that time about fourteen
years of age; beautiful in her perſon, and poffeffed of
fuch fine talents, as made Swift take great delight in
cultivating and forming her mind. At this time too
he writ his famous Digreffions to be found in the Tale
of a Tub, and the Battle of the Books, in honour of
his great and learned friend,
In the year 1699, Sir William Temple died, leaving
Swift a legacy, and the care, truft, and advantage, of
publishing his pofthumous writings. As he had alfo
obtained a promife from King William, that he would
give Swift a prebend, either of Canterbury or Weſt
minfter, he thought he had made a fufficient return for
From Jan. 7, 1696-7.
Lord Herbert's Harry VIII. fol.
Sleidan's Comment, abftracted,
fol.
Council of Trent, abftracted, fol.
Virgil, bis.
Horace, 9 vols.
Sir William Temple's Memoirs
tion
Camden's Elizabeth
Prince Arthur
Hiftoire de Chypre
Voyage de Syam
Voiture
Memoires de Maurier.
Lucius Florus, ter.
Collier's Effays, 2 vols.
Count Gabalis
Introduc-
Sir John Davis, of the Soul
Conformité de Religion, &c.
Dialogues des Morts, 2 vols.
Lucretius, ter,
Hiftoire de Mr. Conftance
Hiftoire d'Ethiopie
Hiftoire de Cotes, de Aº.
Diodorus Siculus, abftr. fol.
Cyprian & Irenæus, abftr. fol
Voyage de Mawe, &c.
Ælian, Vol. I.
Homer, Iliad, & Odyff,
Cicero's Epiftles
Bernier's Grand Mogol, 2 vols,
Burnet's Hift. of Reform, fol.
Petronius Arbiter.
Oeuvres Melées, 5 vols,
Thucydides, by Hobbes, abftr. fol
Theophrafti characteres
Voffius de Sibyllinis
all
DOCTOR SWIFT.
23
all his merits towards him, and that he left him in the
high road to preferment
甫
​Before we accompany Swift into the world, let us re-
view the manner of his paffing his life, from the time
that we ſtopped to furvey him on his way to Leiceſter,
when, forlorn and hopeleſs as his condition was, the
unfeen hand of Providence was guiding him to the
means of all his future greatnefs, in placing him under
the hofpitable roof of Sir William Temple. However
bounteous nature had been, in beſtowing on Swift ex-
traordinary talents, yet were they of ſuch a kind, as re-
quired much time and application to bring them to per-
fection, and fit them to anſwer their deftined ends.
He had miffed the ufual feafon of cultivating thofe
talents, but at the fame time he had efcaped the dan-
ger of their being perverted and mifapplied. His mind
had not been ftrait-laced into that faſhionable fhape
which feemed moſt beautiful to the eyes of pedantry,
but was fuffered to reach its full growth according to
the courſe of nature. Thus did it attain an unuſual
fize, vigour, and cafe. He did not enter ſeriouſly up-
on his ftudies till his underſtanding was mature; thus
all that he read was to fome ufeful end, nor was his
memory charged with thofe important trifles, about
which the fcholaftic world is generally fo bufy. He
read the claffics at a time when he could penetrate into
their profoundeſt depths, and enrich himſelf with the
fpoils of their hidden treaſures; not at the ufual ſeaſon
of boyiſhneſs, when the weak fight can be regaled only
* Such was the love and attention which Swift fhewed to this great
man, that in his laft illneſs he kept a daily regifter of the variations
which appeared in his conſtitution, from July 1, 1698, to the 27th of
the January following; when he concludes with this note, "He died
at one o'clock in the morning, and with him all that was great and
good among men."
C 4
with
1
24
THE LIFE OF
!
with fuch flowery beauties as are pointed out to it on
the furface. Thinking for himſelf as a man, he foon
faw that no ſcience was fo valuable to man, as that of
human nature. He judged that the best way to obtain
a general knowledge of that, was from hiftory; and a
more particular view of it, from ftudying mankind.
He could not poffibly have been better fituated than
at Moor-Park, to have made obfervations on the higher
and more refined life; and he ftudioufly fought all op-
portunities during his little excurfions and journies, to
nake himfelf acquainted with low life; often prefer-
ring the conveyance of waggons, and their inns, to
thoſe of coaches. Scenes of middling life muft, of
courſe, often fall into his way; and where, to a bound-
lefs curiofity, there was added from nature an uncom-
mon penetration, it is no wonder he became fuch an
adept in the knowledge of man, and of the world.
A fcience effentially neceffary to him to make that fi-
gure which he afterwards did in life.
His fituation at Sir William Temple's was indeed
in every respect the happieft that could have been cho-
fen, to prepare this great genius for the complicated
part he was to act in the world. Swift was to figure
as a Writer, as a Politician, as a Patriot. And where
could a young man have found fuch a director and
afliftant in fitting him for the performance of theſe fe-
veral parts, as Sir William Temple; who was himſelf
one of the fineft writers, one of the ableft ſtateſmen,
and the trueft lover of his country, that had been pro-
duced in that, or perhaps in any other
other age?
1:
It was from the frequent revifal of that great man's
works, under his own infpection, that Swift acquired
his first lights with regard to propriety and purity of
tyle, which he was afterwards allowed to carry to a
greater degree of perfection than any English writer
whatfo
DOCTOR SWIFT.
25
whatſoever. The high opinion he entertained of Sir
William's Works in this refpect, was known to me
from the following circumftance. When I was an un-
dergraduate in the College, he recommended it to me
to lay afide fome portion of time every day for the ſtudy
of Engliſh; and when I afk'd him what authors he
would adviſe me to read, he immediately replied, Sir
William Temple; not, faid he, his latter Works, writ-
ten during or after his long refidence abroad, for his
ſtyle became then fomewhat corrupted by the introduc-
tion of newfangled foreign words and phrafes, which
he fell into by converfing and writing fo much in fo-
reign languages; but fuch of his Works as were writ-
ten before his going Ambaffador to Nimeguen. And
after him, added he, I do not know any writer in our
language that I would recommend to you as a model.
I had upon this occafion a fair opportunity of paying
him a juſt compliment; but I knew his deteftation of
any thing that carried the appearance of flattery with
it, too well, to make mention of his own Works to
him.
With respect to Politicks, it must be allowed that
there was no man of that age better qualified than Sir
William Temple, not only to inftru&t Swift in the ge-
neral fyftem of Politicks purfued in the feveral States
of Europe, but likewife to lay open to him all the ar-
cana of state, all the moft fecret fprings of action, with
regard to public affairs, both foreign and domeftic,
during his time; in which he himſelf had borne fo
principal a part: and with regard to Patriotifm, Sir
William Temple muſt be allowed to have been the most
fhining example of that nobleft of virtues, produced
in that age; as he paffed all the vigorous part of his life
in the moſt indefatigable endeavours for the good of
his country, upon the most difintereſted principles;
never
26
THE LIFE OF
never having received any reward, nor feeming folici-
tous about any, for a long feries of the moſt important
fervices rendered to his King and Country, often at his
own expence; and at laft nobly declining the higheſt
ſtation to which a fubject could be raiſed, when offer-
ed to him, as it was at a time of life, when he found
the vigour of his mind fo far abated, that he did not
think himſelf equal to the arduous employment of firſt
Minifter. And with refpect to private virtue, there
could not have been a more illuftrious example placed
before the eyes of a young man, than that of an old
Courtier, who during the diffolute reign of Charle II.
had fingly at Court maintained his integrity unfhaken,
and his inorals untainted.
Under the direction of fuch a tutor, fuch a guide,
under the influence of fuch an example; how happily
was the most dangerous feaſon of life paffed in ftudious
retirement, far from the dangers and temptations of a
corrupt world.
When we reflect that Swift was firft brought up in
the ſchool of Adverſity, (who though he be a ſevere
miſtreſs, yet does the generally make the beſt ſcholars)
and that he was thence removed to another Lyceum,
where prefided a fage, in whom were blended Socratic
wiſdom, Stoical virtue, and Epicurean elegance; we
muft allow his lot to have been moft happily caft for
forming a great and diftinguifhed character in life.
Nor did he fail to anfwer the high expectation that
might be raifed of a young man endowed by naturę
with uncommon talents, which were improved to the
utmoſt by a fingular felicity of fituation, into which
fortune had thrown him.
Let us now accompany Swift into the world, from
entering into which he was happily detained till his
thirty-first year. His mind was now ftored with va-
riety
2
DOCTOR SWIFT.
27
riety of uſeful knowledge; his understanding had arri-
ved at its utmoft maturity and ftrength; his fancy was
in its prime; and his heart, long filled with the nobleft
affections towards God, and towards man, fwelled with
impatience for proper opportunities of difcharging his
duty to both. With fuch abilities, and ſuch diſpoſi-
tions, behold him now entering on the great ftage of
the world, to perform the character allotted to him
in the drama of life, that of an able, bold, and un-
wearied champion, in the cauſe of religion, liberty,
and virtue.
SECTION II.
From the Death of Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE to the Time of
bis Introduction to Lord OXFORD.
.
UPON the death of Sir William Temple, Swift
immediately removed to London; where his firſt care
was to diſcharge the truft repoſed in him, that of pub-
liſhing a correct edition of Sir William Temple's Works;
which he effected as fpeedily as poffible, and prefented
them to King William, with a fhort Dedication written
by himself, as publiſher. He thought he could not
pay a more acceptable compliment to the King, than
by dedicating to him the pofthumous works of a man,
for whom, from his earliest days, when Prince of Orange,
he had profeſſed the higheſt friendſhip and eſteem; and
with whom he lived, after his arrival at the Crown of
England, on the moft intimate footing; frequently vi-
fiting Sir William in his retreat, after he had found his
endeavours vain to draw him out of it, by the tempting
offer of making him his firft Minifter. There was an-
other reaſon too, which must have made the publica-
tion of theſe works peculiarly acceptable to the King ;
which
28
THE LIFE OF
which was, that fome of the most important tranfac-
tions mentioned in thoſe writings, were relative to him-
felf; and many perfonal anecdotes with regard to him,
were now brought to light, which could have been dif-
cloſed by no one but Sir William, and which put the
character of that truly heroic Prince in a high point of
view. On thefe accounts Swift thought that ſuch a de-.
dication was not only the politeft method of reminding
the King of his promife made to Sir William Temple
in his behalf, but the likelieft means of having it fpee-
dily carried into execution. However, as he did not
find the event anſwer his expectation, he applied to that
Monarch by memorial.
But after waiting fome time, he found that his me-
morial had produced no better effect than his dedica-
tion. He therefore readily accepted of an offer made
to him by Lord Berkeley, then appointed one of the
Lords Juftices of Ireland, to attend him to that king-
dom, in the double capacity of Chaplain, and private
Secretary.
This total neglect of his promiſe, made in confe-
quence of a laft, and it may be called a dying requeſt,
of his particular friend, feems to bear not a little hard
on the character of King William. But it is to be ob-
ferved that Swift was the most unfit man in the world
to folicit a point of that fort in due form, without which
nothing is to be done at Court. He thought that his
fhewing himſelf there, or at moſt the dedication of Sir
William's Works, was all that was neceffary to be done
on his part. And with regard to the memorial, he
himſelf exonerated King William fo far, as to fay often
that he believed it never was received.
into the hands of a certain Nobleman,
great regard to him, and offered to prefent it to the
King, and ſecond it with all his might, but Swift had
afterwards
For he put it
who profeffed
DOCTOR SWIFT.
29
afterwards reaſon to believe that he had funk it, and
faid not a word of the matter.
Swift acted as Secretary to Lord Berkeley, till they
arrived at Dublin; when he was fupplanted in that of-
fice by one Buſh, who had by fome means ingratiated
himſelf with my Lord; and reprefenting the office of
Secretary as an improper one for a Clergyman, he was
appointed in Swift's room. Lord Berkeley making the
beſt apology to him that he could, and at the fame.
time promifing to make him amends, by beftowing on
him the first good church preferment that ſhould fall
in his gift. Swift was not a man to be treated in this
manner with impunity. Accordingly, he gave free
ſcope to his reſentment, in a fevere copy of verſes,
which placed the Governor and his new-made Secretary
in a moſt ridiculous point of light, and which was every
where handed about to their no fmall mortification.
Soon after this the rich Deanery of Derry became va-
cant, and as it was the Earl of Berkeley's turn to pre-
fent to it, Swift applied to him for it upon the ſtrength
of his promiſe. Lord Berkeley faid, that Bufh had
been before-hand with him, and had got the promiſe
of it for another. Upon feeing Swift's indignation rife
at this, my Lord, who began to be in no fmall fear of
him, ſaid that the matter might ftill be fettled if he
would talk with Bufh. Swift immediately found out
the Secretary, who very frankly told him that he was
to get a thouſand pound for it, and if he would lay
down the money, he fhould have the preference. To
which Swift, enraged to the utmoſt degree, at an offer
which he confidered as the higheſt infult, and done evi-
dently with Lord Berkeley's participation, made no
other anſwer but this; "God confound you both for a
couple of fcoundrels." With theſe words he imme-
diately quitted the room, and turned his back on the
Caſtle,
30
THE LIFE OF
Caſtle, determined to appear there no more. But
Lord Berkeley was too confcious of the ill treatment he
had given him, and too fearful of the refentment of
an exaſperated genius, not to endeavour to pacify him.
He therefore immediately prefented him with the rec-
tory of Agher, and the vicarages of Laracor and Rath-
beggan, then vacant in the diocefe of Meath. Though
thefe livings united did not make up a third of the
Deanery in value, and though from the large promiſes
which had been made him, he had reafon to expect
much greater preferment, yet, confidering the fpeci-
mens already given of the performance of thofe pro-
mifes, Swift thought it moſt prudent to accept of thoſe
livings, dropping all future expectations from that
quarter. Nor did he afterwards eftrange himſelf from
Lord Berkeley's family, but continued ftill in his of-
fice of Chaplain; to which he ſeems to have been
chiefly induced, from the great honour and reſpect
which he had for his excellent Lady: whofe virtues he
has celebrated in fo mafterly a manner, in the Introduc-
tion to the Project for the Advancement of Religion.
From this behaviour to Lord Berkeley, we may
judge how little Swift was qualified to rife at Court, in
the ufual way of obtaining preferment; and we may
eftimate the greatnefs of his fpirit, by the degree of
reſentment fhewn to the man, in confequence of ill
treatment, upon whom all his hopes of preferment then
refted.
It was at this time that Swift's true humourous vein
in poetry began to diſplay itſelf, in feveral little pieces,
written for the private entertainment of Lord Berkeley's
family; among which was that incomparable piece of
low humour, called The humble Petition of Mrs. Fran-
ces Harris, &c.
When
DOCTOR SWIFT.
i
دن
When Lord Berkeley quitted the government of
Ireland, Swift went to refide on his living at Laracor;
where he lived for fome time in the conftant and ftrict
difcharge of his duty.
It was about this time that Mrs. Johnfon (the after-
wards celebrated Stella) arrived in Ireland, accompa-
nied by another Lady of the name of Dingley, who
was related to the family of the Temples. Sir Wil-
liam Temple had bequeathed to Mrs. Johnfon a le-
gacy of a thousand pounds, in confideration of her fa-
ther's faithful fervices, and her own rifing merits.
After Sir William's death, fhe lived for fome time with
Mrs. Dingley, a lady who had but a fmall annuity to
ſupport her. In this ſituation Swift adviſed his lovely
pupil to fettle in Ireland, as the intereft of money was
at that time ten per cent. in that kingdom; and con-
fidering the cheapnefs of provifions, her income there
would afford her a genteel fupport, inftead of a mere
fubfiftence in England; for the fame reafon alfo he re-
commended it to Mrs. Dingley to accompany her.
This propofal was very agreeable to both the ladies.
To the latter, as fhe had fcarce a fufficient income to
fubfift on in England, though managed with the utmoſt
frugality; to the former, that fhe might be near her
tutor, whofe leffons, however they might dwell on her
memory, had funk ftill deeper into her heart. Thefe
ladies, foon after their arrival, took a lodging at Trim,
a village near Laracor, which was the place of Swift's
refidence. The converfation of this amiable woman,
who, by his own account, had the moſt and fineſt ac-
compliſhments of any perfon he had ever known of ei
ther fex, contributed not a little to fweeten his retire-
ment, which otherwiſe muſt foon have become burden-
ſome to fo active a fpirit. But though Stella's beauty
was at that time arrayed in all the pride of blooming
eighteen,
32
THE LIFE OF
15
eighteen, yet it is certain that he never dropped the
leaft hint that might induce her to confider him in the
light of a lover. In his whole deportment he ſtill
maintained the character of a tutor, a guardian, and a
friend; but he fo ftudiouſly avoided the appearance of
any other attachment to her, that he never faw, or con-
verfed with her, but in the prefence of fome third per-
fon. The truth is, that Swift, at that time, knew not
what the paffion of love was; his fondness for Stella was
only that of an affectionate parent to a favourite child;
and he had long entertained a diſlike to matrimony.
He feems to have been under the dominion of a ftill
more powerful paffion, that of ambition: a paffion
which, from his boyiſh days, had taken ftrong hold of
his mind, and never afterwards forfook him, till all
hopes of its being farther gratified had failed.
Urged by this reſtleſs ſpirit, he every year paid a
vifit to England, abfenting himſelf for fome months
from the duties of his parifh, and the charming con-
verfation of the amiable Stella, in hopes of finding
fome favourable opportunity of diftinguishing himſelf,
and puſhing his fortune in the world. His firſt viſit to
London, from the time he had taken poffeffion of his
living, was in the year 1701. At which time he found
the publick in a ferment, occafioned by the impeach-
ment of the Earls of Portland and Orford, Lord So-
mers, and Lord Hallifax, by the Houfe of Commons.
Upon this occafion Swift wrote and publiſhed his firſt
political tract, entitled, A Difcourfe of the Conteſts
and Diffentions in Athens and Rome. In which he dif-
played great knowledge in ancient hiftory, as well as
ſkill in the Engliſh conftitution, and the ſtate of par-
ties. The author of this piece concealed his name with
the greateſt precaution, nor was he at that time perfo-
nally known to any of the Nobles, in whofe favour it
feems
DOCTOR SWIFT.
33
feems to have been written; and indeed, from the fpi-
rit of the piece itfelf, we may fee that Swift was indu-
ced to write it from other motives than fuch as were
private and perfonal. As no one understood the Eng
liſh conſtitution better, fo no one loved it more, or
would have gone greater lengths to preferve it, than
Swift. He faw clearly that the balance; upon the due
prefervation of which the very life of our conftitution
depends, had been for fome time in a fluctuating ſtate,
and that the popular fcale was likely to preponderate.
All the horrors of anarchy, and the deteſted times of a
Cromwell, came freſh into his mind. He therefore
thought it his duty to lay before the public the fatal
confequences of the encroachments then making by the
Commons upon the other two branches of the Legif-
lature; which he executed in a moft masterly manner,
with great force of argument, affifted by the moſt
ftriking examples of other ftates in fimilar circum-
ſtances; and at the fame time in a ftyle and method fo
perfpicuous, as to render the whole clear to common
capacities. Another reafon for fuppofing that Swift
wrote this wholly from a principle of duty, is, that the
author deals throughout in generals, excepting only one
oblique compliment to the four Lords who were im-
peached by the Commons, which at the fame time
ſerved to ſtrengthen his general argument. The truth
is, Swift, at that time, was of no party, he fided with
the Whigs merely becauſe he thought the Tories were
carrying matters too far, and by the violence of their
proceedings were likely to overturn that happy balance
in our ſtate, fo lately fettled by the glorious Revolu-
tion; to which there was not a faſter friend in England
than himſelf. However it is certain that it remained
for fome time a profound fecret to the world, who the
author of that admirable piece was. And the firſt dif-
D
covery
34
THE LIFE OF
covery made of it, was by Swift himſelf, upon the fol-
lowing occafion. After his return to Ireland, he hap-
pened to fall into company with Bishop Sheridan, where
this much-talked of pamphlet became the topic of
converfation. The Bishop infifted that it was written
by Biſhop Burnet, and that there was not another ran
living equal to it. Swift maintained the contrary; at
firſt by arguments drawn from difference of flyle, man-
ner, &c. and afterwards upon being urged, faid, that
to his certain knowledge it was not written by Burnet.
Then pray, faid the Bishop, who writ it? Swift an-
fwered, my Lord, I writ it. As this was the only in-
ftance in his life that Swift was ever known to have
owned directly any piece as his, it is to be ſuppoſed
that the confeffion was drawn from him by the heat of
argument.
Early in the enfuing fpring, King William died;
and Swift, on his next vifit to London, found Queen
Anne upon the throne. It was generally thought, up-
on this event, that the Tory party would have had the
afcendant; but, contrary to all expectation, the Whigs
had managed matters fo well, as to get entirely into
the Queen's confidence, and to have the whole admi-
niſtration of affairs in their hands. Swift's friends were
now in power, and the Whigs in general, knowing him
to be the author of the Difcourfe on the Contests, &c.
confidered themſelves as much obliged to him, and
looked upon him as faft to their party. The chiefs ac-
cordingly applied to him for his affiftance in the mea-
fures which they were taking; and there is no doubt
that he had now a fair opening for gratifying his ambi-
tion to the utmoft, only by joining heartily with them,
and exerting his talents on their fide. But great as his
ambition was, he would not have purchaſed its higheſt
gratifications at the expence of his principles; nor
would
DOCTOR SWIFT.
35
would all the wealth and honours of the realm, accumu-
lated, have tempted him to act contrary to the convic-
tion of his mind. Upon examining into their new po-
litical fyftem, which varied in many points from that of
the old Whigs, he confidered feveral of their meaſures.
as of a dangerous tendency to the conftitution. Not-
withſtanding, therefore, both his interefts and perfonal
attachments were of their fide, he declined all over-
tures made to him by the heads of the Whiggiſh party,
and after fome time determined to have no concern in
their affairs. This conduct in Swift was fo unexpected,
for they had all along counted upon him as a fure man,
that it met with the fame fort of refentment from the
Whigs, as if he had deferted their party, and gone
over to the enemy; though Swift, in reality, fo little
liked the proceedings of either, that for feveral years
he kept himſelf entirely a neutral, without meddling
in any ſhape in politicks.
The chief reaſon that made him decline any con-
nection with the Whigs at that time, was, their open
profeffion of Low-church principles; and under the
fpecious name of toleration, their encouragement of
Fanaticks and Sectarists of all kinds to join them.
But what above all moſt ſhocked him, was, their invi-
ting all Deifts, Freethinkers, Atheists, Jews, and In-
fidels, to be of their party, under pretence of modera-
tion, and allowing a general liberty of confcience. As
Swift was in his heart a man of true religion, he could
not have borne, even in his private character, to have
mixed with ſuch a motley crew. But when we confi-
der his principles in his political capacity, that he look-
ed upon the Church of England, as by law eſtabliſhed,
to be the main pillar of our newly erected conftitution,
he could not, confiftently with the character of a good
citizen, join with thofe who confidered it more as an
D 2
orna.
36
THE LIFE OF
ornament, than a fupport to the edifice; who could
therefore look on with compofure while they faw it un-
dermining, or even open the gate to a blind multitude,
to try, like Samfon, their ftrength against it, and con-
fider it only as fport. With fuch a party, neither his
religious nor political principles would fuffer him to
join; and with regard to the Tories, as is ufual in the
violence of factions, they had run into oppofite ex-
tremes, equally dangerous to the ſtate. He has fully
given us his own fentiments upon the ftate of parties in
thoſe times, in thefe words: "Now, becauſe it is a
point of difficulty to choofe an exact middle between
two ill extremes; it may be worth enquiring in the pre-
fent cafe, which of theſe a wife and good man would
rather ſeem to avoid: taking therefore their own good
and ill characters of each other, with due abatements,
and allowances for partiality and paffion; I fhould
think, that in order to preſerve the conftitution entire
in the Church and State, whoever has a true value for
both, would be fure to avoid the extremes of Whig,
for the fake of the former; and the extremes of Tory,
on account of the latter."
This was a maxim, which, however well founded,
was not likely to influence the opinion of many, amid
the violence of party-rage; however, as Swift was
firmly perfuaded of the truth of it, it was by that prin-
ciple he governed his conduct, though on that ac-
count he ſtood almoft alone.
Finding therefore that he could be of no uſe to the
public in his political capacity, while things remained
in the fame ftate, he turned his thoughts wholly to
other matters. He refided for the greatest part of
the year at his living, in the performance of his paro-
chial duties, in which no one could be more exact;
and once a year he paid a vifit to his mother at Leiceſ
ter,.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
37
ter, paffing fome time alfo in London, to take a view
of the ſtate of things, and watching fome favourable
crifis.
In
During this period, Swift's pen was hardly ever em-
ployed, except in writing fermons; and he does not
ſeem to have indulged himſelf even in any fallies of
fancy, for fome years, excepting only the Meditation
on a Broom-ſtick, and the Tritical Effay on the Fa-
culties of the Mind, both written in the year 1703.
As Swift has been much cenfured for writing the former
of thefe pieces, on account of the ridicule contained in
it of the ſtyle and manner of fo great and pious a man
as Mr. Boyle, it may not be improper here to relate an
* anecdote which I had from undoubtedly good autho-
rity, with regard to the occafion of writing that piece,
and which will in a great meaſure exonerate Swift from
the charge brought against him on that account.
the yearly vifits which he made to London, during his
ftay there, he paffed much of his time at Lord Berke-
ley's, officiating as Chaplain to the family, and attend-
ing Lady Berkeley in her private devotions. After
which the Doctor, by her defire, uſed to read to her
fome moral or religious difcourfe. The Counteſs had
at this time taken a great liking to Mr. Boyle's Medita-
tions, and was determined to go through them in that
manner; but as Swift had by no means the fame reliſh
for that kind of writing which her Ladyfhip had, he
foon grew weary of the tafk; and a whim coming into
his head, refolved to get rid of it in a way which might
occafion ſome ſport in the family; for which they had
as high a reliſh as himſelf. The next time he was em-
ployed in reading one of thefe Meditations, he took
* This anecdote came from Lady Betty Germaine, daughter of Lady
Berkeley, and was communicated to me by the late Lady Lambert, an
Intimate of Lady Betty's.
D 3
an
38
THE LIFE OF
an opportunity of conveying away the book, and dex-
terously inferted a leaf, on which he had written his
own Meditation on a Broomftick; after which, he took
care to have the book reftored to its proper place, and
in his next attendance on my Lady, when he was defi-
red to proceed to the next Meditation, Swift opened
upon the place where the leaf had been inferted, and
with great compoſure of countenance read the title,
"A Meditation on a Broom-ftick." Lady Berkeley,
a little furpriſed at the oddity of the title, ftopped
him, repeating the words, "A Meditation on a Broom-
ſtick!" bleſs me, what a ſtrange ſubject! But there is
no knowing what ufeful leffons of inftruction this won-
derful man may draw, from things apparently the moſt
trivial. Pray let us hear what he fays upon it. Swift
then, with an inflexible gravity of countenance, pro-
ceeded to read the Meditation, in the fame folemn tone
which he had ufed in delivering the former. Lady
Berkeley, not at all fufpecting a trick, in the fulneſs of
her prepoffeffion, was every now and then, during the
reading of it, expreffing her admiration of this extra-
ordinary man, who could draw fuch fine moral reflec-
tions from fo contemptible a fubject; with which,
though Swift muſt have been inwardly not a little
tickled, yet he preferved a moft perfect compofure of
features, fo that he had not the leaft room to ſuſpect
any
deceit. Soon after, fome company coming in,
Swift pretended bufinefs, and withdrew, foreſeeing
what was to follow. Lady Berkeley, full of the fub-
ject, foon entered upon the praiſes of thofe heavenly
Meditations of Mr. Boyle. But, faid fhe, the Doctor
has been juſt reading one to me, which has furpriſed
me more than all the reft. One of the company aſked
which of the Meditations fhe meant. She anſwered di-
rectly, in the fimplicity of her heart, I mean that ex-
J
cellent
DOCTOR SWIFT.
39
cellent Meditation on a Broom-ftick. The company
looked at each other with fome furpriſe, and could
fcarce refrain from laughing. But they all agreed
that they had never heard of ſuch a Meditation before.
Upon my word, faid my Lady, there it is, look into
that book, and convince yourſelves. One of them
opened the book, and found it there indeed, but in
Swift's hand-writing; upon which a general burſt of
laughter enſued; and my Lady, when the firſt ſurpriſe
was over, enjoyed the joke as much as any of them;
faying, what a vile trick has that rogue played me!
But it is his way, he never baulks his humour in any
thing. The affair ended in a great deal of harmleſs
mirth, and Swift, you may be fure, was not aſked to
proceed any farther in the Meditations. Thus we fee
that his original intention in writing this piece, was not
to ridicule the great Robert Boyle, but only to furnish
occafion for a great deal of innocent mirth on Lady
Berkeley's enthuſiaſm, and fimplicity of heart; and at
the fame time to get rid of the difagreeable taſk of
reading to her writings which were not at all to his taſte.
And that it afterwards got out into the world, was
owing to the eagerness of thoſe who were acquainted
with the Berkeley family, to procure copies of a piece of
fuch exquiſite humour. This was the cafe indeed in al-
moſt all the ſmall things afterwards written by Swift,
fcarce any of which were publiſhed by himſelf, but ſtole
into the world in that way.
Though the greatnefs of Swift's talents was known
to many in private life, and his company and converſa-
tion much fought after and admired, yet was his name
hitherto little known in the Republic of Letters. The
only pieces which he had then publiſhed, were the
Battle of the Books, and the Conteſts and Diffentions
in Athens in Rome, and both without a name,
D 4
Nor
was
40
OF
THE LIFE
was he perfonally known to any of the Wits of the age,
excepting Mr. Congreve, and one or two more, with
whom he had contracted an acquaintance at Sir Wil
liam Temple's. The knot of Wits ufed at this time
to affemble at Button's Coffee-houfe; and I had a fin-
gular account of Swift's firſt appearance there from
Ambrofe Philips, who was one of Mr. Addifon's little
fenate. He faid that they had for feveral fucceffive days
obferved a ſtrange Clergyman come into the coffee-
house, who ſeemed utterly unacquainted with any of
thoſe who frequented it; and whofe cuftom it was to
lay his hat down on a table, and walk backwards
and forwards at a good pace for half an hour or an
hour, without fpeaking to any mortal, or feeming in
the leaft to attend to any thing that was going forward
there. He then uſed to take up his hat, pay his money
at the bar, and walk away without opening his lips.
After having obferved this fingular behaviour for fome
time, they concluded him to be out of his fenfes; and
the name that he went by among them, was that of the
mad Parfon. This made them more than uſually at-
tentive to his motions; and one evening, as Mr. Addi-
fon and the reft were obferving him, they faw him caft
his eyes feveral times on a gentleman in boots, who
feemed to be juft come out of the country, and at laft
advance towards him as intending to addreſs him.
They were all eager to hear what this dumb, mad par-
fon, had to fay, and immediately quitted their feats to
get near him. Swift went up to the country-gentle-
man, and in a very abrupt manner, without any previ-
ous falute, afked him, "Pray, Sir, do you remember
any good weather in the world?" The country-gentle-
man, after staring a little at the fingularity of his man-
ner,
and the oddity of the queftion, anfwered, "Yes,
Sir, I thank God, I remember a great deal of good
weather
DOCTOR SWIFT.
41
rr
weather in my time." "That is more," faid Swift,
than I can fay; I never remember any weather that
was not too hot, or too cold; too wet, or too dry;
but, however God Almighty contrives it, at the end of
the year 'tis all very well." Upon faying this, he took
up his hat, and without uttering a fyllable more, or
taking the leaſt notice of any one, walked out of the
coffee-houſe; leaving all thoſe who had been ſpectators
of this odd fcene staring after him, and ſtill more con-
firmed in the opinion of his being mad. There is an-
other anecdote recorded of him, of what paffed be-
tween him and Dr. Arbuthnot in the fame coffee-houſe.
The Doctor had been fcribbling a letter in great hafte,
which was much blotted; and feeing this odd parſon
near him, with a deſign to play upon him, faid, " Pray,
Sir, have you any fand about you?" "No," replied
Swift, "but I have the gravel, and if you will give
me your letter I'll p-fs upon it." Thus fingularly com-
menced an acquaintance between thoſe two great wits,
which afterwards ripened into the cloſeſt friendſhip.
After theſe adventures they faw him no more at But-
ton's, till The Tale of a Tub had made its appearance
in the world, when, in the perſon of the author of that
inimitable performance, they recognized their mad
parfon. This piece was firſt publiſhed in the following
year 1704; and though without a name, yet the curio-
fity excited by the appearance of fuch a wonderful piece
of original compofition, could not fail of finding out
the author, eſpecially as not only the bookfeller knew
him, but as the manufcript had at different times been
fhewn to ſeveral of Sir William Temple's relations,
and moſt intimate friends. When it is confidered that
Swift had kept this piece by him eight years, after it
had been, by his own confeffion, completely finished,
before he gave it to the world; we muſt ſtand aftoniſh-
ed
42
THE LIFE OF
ed at fuch a piece of ſelf-denial, as this muſt ſeem, in
a young man, ambitious of diftinction, and eager after
fame; and wonder what could be his motive for net
publiſhing it fooner. But the truth is, Swift fet but
little value on his talents as a writer, either at that
time, or during the whole courfe of his life, farther
than as they might contribute to advance fome nobler
ends, which he had always in view. Unfollicitous
therefore about fame merely literary, or the reputation
of an author, he could with the most perfect fang froid
lock up this admirable piece in his deſk, and wait, with
the moſt philofophic patience, for a favourable ſeaſon
to produce it, when it might anfwer fome more import-
ant purpoſe. After the time he had given the laſt fi-
nifhing to it, the violence of parties ran fo high for
fome years, and their difputes were carried on with
fuch animofity, that he did not think the public in a
temper fit to receive the work, fo as to produce the ef-
fects which he propoſed from it. But as the rage of
party began to cool at that time, and the oppofition
from the Tories grew daily more feeble, as the power
of the Whigs increaſed; and as a firm eſtabliſhment of
the Whig intereft feemed to threaten, upon their prin-
ciples, an entire difregard to, and neglect of all reli-
gion; Swift thought this a proper juncture to revive the
topic of religion, and to fhew the excellency of the
eftabliſhed Church, over its two rivals, in a new way,
adapted to common capacities, with regard to the un-
derſtanding, and calculated to make way to the heart,
through the pleafure which it afforded to the fancy.
And without fome artifice of that fort, it would have
been impoffible to have gained any attention at all to
the topic of religion. People were quite wearied out
with the continual repetition of the fame dull argu-
ments; or fore, on account of the ill temper with
which
DOCTOR SWIFT.
43
which the difputes were carried on, and the ill blood
which they occafioned. The bulk of mankind were
therefore in a fit difpofition to fall in with the principle
of moderation held out by the Whigs; but as it was
eaſy to ſee from fome of their political meaſures, that
moderation was not the point at which they intended to
ftop; but that an indifference with regard to any form
of religion was likely to enfue, in confequence of fome
of their tenets; Swift thought it high time that the at-
tention of the people towards the fecurity of the eſta-
bliſhed Church ſhould be rouſed, that they might be
guarded against the undermining artifices of its ene-
mies, fecretly carried on under covert of her pretended
friends; who in their hearts were little follicitous about
her interefts, being wholly abforbed in worldly pur-
fuits. And furely nothing could be contrived better to
anſwer this end, than to make religion once more a ge-
neral topic of converfation; but of fuch converfation
as no longer excited the difagreeable and malevolent
paffions, but gave rife to cheerfulneſs and mirth. Strip-
ped of the frightful maſk with which her face had been
covered by bigotry and enthuſiaſm, and adorned with
all the graces of the comic mufe, fhe became a wel-
come gueſt in all companies. The beauty of the
Church of England, by a plain and well conducted al-
legory, adapted to all capacities, was fhewn, in the
moft obvious light, by the characters of fimplicity and
moderation, which are the true marks of Chriftianity,
in oppofition to the pageantry, fuperftition, and tyranny
of the Church of Rome, on the one hand; and the
fpleen, hypocrify, and enthuſiaſm of Calvinifm, on
the other. This had been often done before in a feri-
ous way, but it was the new manner of treating the
fubject that produced the great effect. While the Eng-
lifh divines had for more than a century been engaged
3
in
44
THE LIFE OF
in a conftant ftate of warfare with their antagoniſts,
and attacked them with ferious reafoning, and vehe-
mence of argumentation, their antagoniſts were always
confidered as powerful and formidable; and though
often foiled, were never looked upon as fubdued.
While thefe different religions were rendered odious or
terrible to the imaginations of people, the very feel-
ings of that hatred and fear were accompanied with the
ideas of danger and power in the objects which excited
them, and of courfe gave them a confequence. But
the inftant they were rendered ridiculous, they became
contemptible, and their whole power vanished; nor
was there ever a ftronger inftance of the truth of Ho-
race's rule,
Ridiculum acri
Fortius & melius magnas plerumque fecat res;
than in the effects produced by The Tale of a Tub,
with regard to the weakening of the powers of popery
and fanaticiſm in this country. Effects not merely tem-
porary, but which, with their caufe, are likely to laſt,
as long as the English language ſhall be read.
After the publication of this work, Swift wrote no-
thing of confequence for three or four years; during
which time his acquaintance was much fought after by
all perfons of taste and genius. There was, particu-
larly, a very clofe connection formed between Mr. Ad-
difon and him, which ended in a fincere and lafting
* In 1705, Mr. Addifon made a prefent of his book of Travels to
Dr. Swift, in the blank leaf of which he wrote the following words:
To Dr. JONATHAN SWIFT.
The moſt agreeable companion,
The trucft friend,
And the greatest genius of his age,
This book is prefented by his
Moft humble Şervant,
The AUTHOR.
friendship,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
45
friendship, at leaft on Swift's part. Addifon's com-
panionable qualities were known but to a few, as an in-
vincible baſhfulneſs kept him for the moſt part filent in
mixed companies; but Swift uſed to ſay of him, that
his converfation in a tête a tête, was the moft agreeable
he had ever known in any one; and that in the many
hours which he paffed with him in that way, neither of
them ever wiſhed for the coming in of a third perſon.
In the beginning of the year 1708, Swift ſtarted forth
from his ſtate of inactivity, and publiſhed ſeveral pieces
upon religious and political fubjects, as alfo in the hu-
mourous way. That which regarded religion chiefly,
was, An Argument againſt aboliſhing Chriftianity; in
which he purſues the fame humourous method, which
was fo fuccefsfully followed in the Tale of a Tub. Per-
haps there never was a richer vein of irony than runs.
through that whole piece; nor could any thing be bet-
ter calculated to fecond the general impreffion made by
the Tale of a Tub. It is certain, that Swift thought
the ſtate of the Church in great danger, notwithſtand-
ing any vote of Parliament to the contrary; and this
chiefly from a fort of lethargic diforder, which had in
general feized thofe who ought to have been its watch-
ful guardians. To roufe them from this ſtate, he found
tickling to be more effectual than lafhing: and that
the best way to keep them wakeful, was to make them
laugh.
It was at this juncture too he chofe to publifh his po-
litical principles. Swift had been hitherto always claff-
ed among the Whigs, as the only political tract of his
which had been publiſhed was in their favour, and as
his chief connections were among that body. And he
himfelf had adopted the name in a* Copy of Verfes to
*And laft, my vengeance to compleat,
May you defcend to take renown,
Prevailed on by the thing you have,
A l'big, and one who wears a gown,
the
46
THE LIFE OF
the Honourable Mrs. Finch. And indeed with refpe&t
to government, there could not be a ftauncher Whig
than he was upon the old principles of Whiggifm, as
fet forth by him; but he was an utter enemy to ſome
new ones adopted by that party, in order to enlarge
their bottom, and which evidently tended to Republic-
anifm. And as to their maxims with regard to reli-
gion, he widely differed from them. As theſe were
made an effential part of the character of a Whig at
that time, he could not be faid to be of their body.
The truth is, that Swift was a man of too much inte-
grity to belong to either party, while they were both
fo much in the wrong. This he himſelf declared in
the opening of the political Tract printed at this time,
entitled, “The Sentiments of a Church-of-England-Man
with respect to Religion and Government;" which begins
with theſe words: "Whoever has examined the con-
duct and proceedings of both parties for fome years.
paft, whether in or out of power, cannot well conceive
it poffible to go far towards the extremes of either,
without offering fome violence to his integrity, or un-
derſtanding." His motive for publiſhing this Tract
at that juncture, he has given in the following words:
"When the two parties, that divide the whole Com-
monwealth, come once to a rupture, without any hopes.
left of forming a third with better principles to balance
the others; it ſeems every man's duty to chooſe one of
the two fides, although he cannot entirely approve of
either; and all pretences to neutrality, are juſtly explo-
ded by both, being too ftale and obvious; only intend-
ing the fafety and eaſe of a few individuals, while the
public is embroiled. This was the opinion and prac-
tice of the latter Cato, whom I efteem to have been
the wifeft and the beſt of all the Romans. But before
things proceed to open violence, the trueft fervice a
private
DOCTOR SWIFT.
47
private man may hope to do his country, is, by un-
biaffing his mind as much as poffible, and then endea-
vouring to moderate between the rival powers; which
muſt needs be owned a fair proceeding with the world;
becauſe it is, of all others, the leaſt confiftent with the
common defign of making a fortune, by the merit of
an opinion."
Swift, from feveral circumftances at that time, ap-
prehended that the parties would fpeedily come to an
open rupture; he therefore thought it the duty of a
good citizen to endeavour to form a third party out of
the more moderate of each, that ſhould ferve as a check
upon the violence of both. With this view, he repre-
fents the extremes of both parties, and the evil confe-
quences likely to enfue from each, in the ſtrongeſt
light; at the fame time he clearly fhews that the mo-
derate of both hardly differed in any material point,
and were kept afunder only by the odious diftinction of
a name. He fet down in this piece, fuch a juſt, poli-
tical, and religious creed, fo far as related to any con-
nection between Church and State, as every honeft fub-
ject of the Church of England muſt at once affent to.
And indeed, if it were in the nature of things, that a
party could have been formed upon principles of mode-
ration, good ſenſe, and public ſpirit, his fcheme would
have taken place, from the mafterly manner in which
it was propofed. His defign was, to engage all thoſe
of both parties, who wifhed well to the eſtabliſhed
Church, to unite together under the denomination of
Church-of-England-men, inſtead of the odious terms of
High and Low Church, calculated to keep up animofity;
and by fo doing, to leave the more violent of both
parties, whofe numbers would in that cafe be much re-
duced, expoſed to the world in their true colours,
merely by being fingled out in the different herds of
their
48
THE LIFE OF
*
letter to Colonel
following year.
their affociates. In that cafe, there were few Whigs,
fo loft to all fenſe of ſhame, as would chooſe to be one
of a handful of Engliſh Proteftants, at the head of a
numerous body of Sectaries of all kinds, Infidels, and
Atheiſts; as there would be few Tories, who would
wish to appear leaders of Papifts and Jacobites only.
Under the name of Church of-England-man, none of
thoſe enemies to our conftitution could have lifted;
whereas, under the vague names of Whig and Tory,
perfons of all denominations and principles were en-
rolled without fcruple, by both, merely to encreaſe
their numbers, and fwell the cry. This project, for the
uniting of parties, feems to have taken ftrong poffef-
fion of Swift, and not to have quitted him for fome
time, as we find he mentions it in a
Hunter, in the beginning of the
However, if this defign failed, he was determined,
whenever matters fhould come to an open rupture be-
tween the parties, not to remain neutral; but to chooſe
that fide, which, upon the whole, fhould appear to
him the beſt, according to the maxim before laid down.
In order therefore to render himſelf of the greater con-
fequence, he feems to have exerted himfelf this year
in the difplay of his various talents. Befide the two
admirable tracts before-mentioned, he published, "A
Letter from a Member of the Houfe of Commons in
Ireland, to a Member of the Houſe of Commons in
England, concerning the Sacramental Teft." As he
always kept a watchful eye upon the motions of the
Preſbyterians, the intention of this piece was, not only
to fruſtrate their attempt to get the Test Act repealed
*I amufe myſelf fometimes with writing verſes to Mrs. Finch, and
fometimes with projects for the uniting of parties, which I perfect
over night, and burn in the morning.
SWIFT's first Letter to Col. Hunter.
in
DOCTOR SWIFT.
49
in Ireland, but alfo to alarm the people in England,
by fhewing that their defign was deeper laid, and that
the carrying of it first in that country, was only intend-
ed as a precedent for doing the fame here. In the hu-
mourous way, he wrote alſo in this year thofe admirable
papers on Partridge the Almanack Maker, which ap-
peared under the name of Ifaac Bickerftaff, Efq; and
in poetry, An Elegy on the fuppofed death of Par-
tridge; the Story of Baucis and Philemon; and two
copies of Verſes on Vanbrugh's houfe *. So wide a
difplay of fuch different talents; fuch knowledge in po-
litical affairs; fo much good fenfe and ftrength of rea-
foning, joined to fo pure and mafterly a ſtyle; and a-
bove all, fo much wit, and fuch uncommon powers of
ridicule, could not fail of raiſing prognofticks, that he
would prove the moft able and formidable champion
living, of that party whofe caufe he ſhould efpouſe.
The Whigs therefore, who had hitherto neglected him,
as confidering him in the light of a half brother, be-
gan now to dread, and confequently to pay him great
Their apprehenfions were quickened by the
court.
It appears
from a memorandum in Swift's hand-writing, that he
had an intention this year to publiſh a Volume of his Works, confift-
ing of the following articles: October, 170s.
SUJECTS for a VOLUME.
Difcourfe on Athens and Rome.
Bickerstaff's Predictions.
Elegy on Partridge.
Letter to Bishop of K.
Harris's Petition.
Baucis and Philemon.
Vanbrugh's Houſe.
The Salamander.
Epigram on Mrs. Floyd.
Meditation on a Broomstick.
Sentiments of a Church-of-Eng-
land-Man.
Reaſons againſt abolishing Chrif
tianity.
Effay on Converſation.
Conjectures on the Thoughts of
Pofterity about me.
On the prefent Tafle of Reading.
Apology for the Tale, &c.
Part of an Anfwer to Gindal.
Hiftory of Van's Houſe.
Apollo outwitted. To Ardelia.
Project for Reformation of Man-
ners.
A Lady's Table-Book.
Tritical Effay.
E
narrow
50
THE LIFE OF
narrow eſcape which they juſt then had of being turned
out of power, by the intrigues of Mr. Harley; which
had very nearly taken place then, in the manner they
did two years afterwards. No folicitations nor pro-
mifes were wanting, on their parts, to engage Swift on
their fide; but they found him a man of ſtubborn in-
tegrity; nor could any temptation prevail on him to go
the lengths which they wanted. Failing in this, their
next wiſh was to fend him out of the way, in forme ho-
nourable pot. That of Secretary to an intended em-
baſſy to the Court of Vienna, was firft defigned for
him; but that project going off, there was a ſcheme
on foot to make him Bishop of Virginia, with a power
to ordain Prieſts and Deacons, and a general authority
over all the Clergy in the American Colonies. There
could not have been a stronger bait thrown out to Swift
than this; as it would gratify his ambition, by a moſt
extenfive power, in the very ſphere where he moſt wiſh-
ed to have it, in the Church; as religion was always
neareft his heart. Accordingly we find that he was very
earneſt in the purfuit of that point; but, unfortunately
for the intereſts of religion in America, and as unfor-
tunately for the Whiggiſh Miniftry, notwithſtanding
their promiſes, that it fhould be done, the defign fell
to the ground, and Swift remained in the fame ſtate:
remained on the fpot, filled with refentment at their
treatment of him, and determined to wreak his ven-
geance on them, when opportunity fhould ferve, which
was not now far diſtant.
Early in the following year, Swift publiſhed that ad-
mirable piece, called, A Project for the Advancement of
Religion. In which, after enumerating all the corrup-
tions and depravities of the age, he fhews that the
chief ſource of them was the neglect, or contempt of
religion, which fo generally prevailed. Though at
firft
DOCTOR SWIFT.
51
first view this pamphlet feemed to have no other drift,
but to lay down a very rational ſcheme for a general re-
formation of manners, yet upon a clofer examination it
will appear to have been a very ſtrong, though covert
attack, upon the power of the Whigs. It could not
have eícaped a man of Swift's penetration, that the
Queen had been a long time wavering in her fenti-
ments, and that ſhe was then meditating that change
in the Miniftry, which fometime afterwards took place.
To confirm her in this intention, and to haften the ex-
ecution of it, appears, from the whole tenour of the
pamphlet, to have been the main object he had in view;
in publiſhing it at that time. For though it ſeems de-
figned for the ufe of the world in general, and is parti-
cularly addreſſed to the Countess of Berkeley, yet that
it was chiefly calculated for the Queen's perufal, ap-
pears from this; that the whole execution of his Pro-
ject depended upon the impreffion which it might make
upon her mind; and the only means of reformation
propofed, were fuch as were altogether in her own
power. At fetting out, he fays; "Now, as univerfal
and deep-rooted as thefe corruptions appear to be, I
am utterly deceived, if an effectual remedy might not
be applied to moſt of them; neither am I now upon a
wild fpeculative project, but fuch a one as may be ea-
fily put in execution. For, while the prerogative of
giving all employments continues in the Crown, either
immediately, or by fubordination, it is in the power of
the Prince to make piety and virtue become the fashion
of the age, if, at the fame time, he would make them
neceffary qualifications for favour and preferment."
He then proceeds to fhew the neceffity of her Majefty's
exerting her authority in this way, by a very free ob-
fervation, couched under one of the finest compliments
that ever was penned: "It is clear from prefent expe-
E 2
rience,
52
LIFE OF
THE
M
rience, that the bare example of the beft Prince, will
not have any mighty influence where the age is very
corrupt. For, when was there ever a better Prince on
the throne than the prefent Queen? I do not talk of
her talent for government, her love of the people, or
any other qualities that are purely regal; but her piety,
charity, temperance, conjugal love, and whatever other
virtues do beft adorn a private life; wherein, without
queftion, or flattery, the has no fuperior: yet, neither
will it be fatyr or peevish invective to affirm, that infi-
delity and vice are not much diminished fince her co-
ming to the Crown; nor will, in probability, until more
effectual remedies be provided."
The chief remedy he propofes, is, "To bring reli-
gion into countenance, and encourage thofe, who, from
the hope of future reward, and dread of future puniſh-
ment, will be moved to act with juftice and integrity.
This is not to be accomplished in any other way, than
by introducing religion as much as poffible, to be the
turn and fashion of the age, which only lies in the
power of the Adminiftration; the Prince, with utmoſt
ftrictness, regulating the Court, the Miniſtry, and other
perfons in great employment; and thefe, by their ex-
ample and authority, reformning all who have depend-
ence on them.”
Having expatiated on this topic, and fhewn how
eafily fuch a defign might be carried into execution, if
the Queen would only form fuch a determination, he
proceeds to enforce his arguments by confcientious mo-
tives; which were likely to have the ſtrongeſt effects
upon one of fuch a truly religious turn as the Queen
was. After having juſt mentioned fome points of re-
formation, in which the aid of the Legiſlature might
be found neceffary, he fays, "But this is befide my
prefent defign, which was only to fhew what degree
of
DOCTOR
53
SWIFT.
of reformation is in the power of the Queen, without
interpofition of the Legiſlature; and which her Majeſty
is, without question, obliged in confcience to endea-
vour by her authority, as much as ſhe does by her prac-
tice."
And in another place he ftill more forcibly urges ar-
guments of the fame nature: "The prefent Queen is
a Prince of as many and great virtues, as ever filled
a throne: how would it brighten her character to the
prefent, and after ages, if he would exert her utmoſt
authority to inftil fome fhare of thofe virtues into her
people, which they are too degenerate to learn, only
from her example. And, be it ſpoke with all the ve-
neration poffible for fo excellent a Sovereign; her beft
endeavours in this weighty affair, are a moft important
part of her duty, as well as of her intereft, and her
honour."
:
Nothing could have been better contrived to work
upon the Queen's difpofition, than the whole of this
Tract. In which the author firft fhews that all the cor-
ruptions and wickednefs of the times, aroſe from irre-
ligion he fhews that it is in her Majefty's power alone,
without other aid, to reftore religion to its true luftre
and force, and to make it have a general influence on
the manners and conduct of her people: and then he
urges the ſtrongeſt motives, of honour, of intereſt, and
of duty, to induce her to enter upon the immediate ex-
ercife of that power. And to render what he offered
upon that head more forcible, it was apparently written
by fome difintereſted hand, from no other principle
but a due regard to religion and morality. For the au-
thor artfully fuppreffed all mention of party: and yet,
upon a cloſer examination, it would appear, that nothing
could be more directly, though covertly, aimed at the
deſtruction of the power of the Whigs.
E 3
For the firſt
itep
54
THE LIFE OF
ſtep propoſed to render the deſign effectual, was, that
the Queen should employ none in her Miniſtry, or in
any offices about her perfon, but fuch as had the cauſe
of religion at heart: now this was in effect to fay, that
ſhe muſt begin with turning out the Whigs, or Low-
Church-Party, who in general profeffed either an in-
difference to, or contempt of religion; and chooſe her
Officers from among the Tories, or High-Church-party,
with whom the ſupport of the intereſts of religion, was
the first, and moft generally avowed principle.
་
After the publication of this piece, Swift went to
Ireland, where he remained till the revolution in the
Miniftry took place, which happened in the following
year; when Mr. Harley, and Mr. St. John, the heads
of the Tory-party in the Houfe of Commons, were
appointed to fill the chief offices; the former, that of
Chancellor of the Exchequer, the latter, that of prin-
cipal Secretary of State. During this interval, Swift
paſſed much of his time with Mr. Addiſon, who had
gone over to Ireland as Firſt Secretary to the Earl of
Wharton, then Lord Lieutenant of that kingdom. By
this means he had an opportunity of being an eye-wit
nefs of the corrupt adminiſtration of affairs in that king-
dom, under that Lord's government, which he after-
wards expofed to the world in fuch ſtrong and odious
colours. Had Swift been intent only on his own pro-
motion, it is probable that he might eafily have ob-
tained preferment in Ireland at that juncture, on ac-
count of his great intimacy with the Secretary; but he
would have fcorned to pay court to a Viceroy of fuch
a character, or even to have accepted any favour at his
hands. Upon the change of affairs at Court, when a
new Miniftry was appointed, Swift was requested by
the Bishops of Ireland to take upon him the charge of
folliciting a remiffion of the firft-fruits, and twentieth
parts
DOCTOR SWIFT. A
55
parts to the clergy, of that kingdom. It was not with-
out great reluctance, that he accepted of this office,
for reafons hereafter to be affigned: but his regard to
the intereſts of the Church, outweighed all other con-
fiderations, and he accordingly fet out for England, as
foon as his credentials were ready.
}
SECTION III.
From the INTRODUCTION to Mr. HARLEY, to the DEATH
of the QUEEN.
ON his arrival in London in the month of Sep-
tember, 1710, he found that open war was declared
between the two parties, and raged with the utmoſt
violence. There was no room for moderating ſchemes,
and according to his own maxim, that a good citizen
could not remain neutral in fuch a fituation of affairs,
Swift was to chooſe his party, and to declare himſelf
accordingly. His arrival at that crifis, filled the Whigs
with joy, as in general they looked upon him to be of
their party; but the leaders among them were not with -
out their apprehenfions, being confcious of the ill
treatment he had met with at their hands. Of this,
take the following account from Swift himself *. «All
*At this time, and during his connection with the Miniftry after-
wards, Swift kept a regular journal of all the moſt remarkable events,
as well as little anecdotes, which he tranfmitted every fortnight to
Stella, for her private perufal, and that of Mrs. Dingley, but upor
condition that it should be communicated to no other perfon whatſoever.
This journal was luckily preferved, and fometime fince given to the
world. As nothing could better fhew Swift's own fentiments with re-
gard to affairs at that time, and the motives which induced him to
take the part he did in them, than ſuch a journal, written as it were
to the hour, and tranfmitted to that perfon in the world to whom his
heart was moſt open; the account of his conduct, during that buſy
time, will, wherever there is an opportunity, be corroborated by ex-
tracts from it.
E 4
the
56
THE LIFE OF
the Whigs were raviſhed to fee me, and would have
laid hold on me as a twig, to fave them from finking a
and the great men were all making me their clumfy
apologies. It is good to fee what a lamentable con-
feffion the Whigs all make of my ill-ufage." On the
other hand, the Tories were exceedingly alarmed at his
arrival, as they had always confidered him in the light
of a Whig, and as the leaders of their party had not
even the leaſt perfonal knowledge of him; how ſtrong
their apprehenfions must have been, we may judge from
a paffage in Swift's Journal of the following year, dated
June 30, 1711, where he fays, that, "Mr. Harley and
Mr. Secretary St. John, frequently protefted, after he
had become their intimate, that he was the only man
in England they were afraid of." In fuch a difpofition,
therefore, it is to be ſuppoſed, that a visit from Dr.
Swift to Mr. Harley, was by no means an unacceptable
thing. The occafion of this vifit is fet forth at large,
in the letters which paffed between Dr. King, Arch-
bishop of Dublin, and Dr. Swift, published in his
Works. Upon his leaving Ireland, Swift had under-
taken to follicit the affair of the firft-fruits, and twen-
tieth parts, for the benefit of the Clergy in Ireland,
which had been long depending, and in vain attempted
by two Biſhops fent over for that purpofe by the whole
body. In his first letter to the Archbishop on that ſub-
ject, he fays, "As foon as I received the pacquets
from your Grace, I went to wait upon Mr. Harley. I
had prepared him before, by another hand, where he
was very intimate; and got myfelf reprefented (which
I might juſtly do) as one extremely ill uſed by the laſt
Miniſtry, after fome obligations, becauſe I refufed to
go certain lengths they would have me." He after-
wards gives fuch an account of the whole tranfaction
as might be proper to be fhewn. But in his Journal
tq
DOCTOR SWIFT.
57
to Stella, he is more particular.-October 4, 1710.—
"Mr. Harley received me with the greateſt refpect and
kindneſs imaginable, and appointed me an hour, two
or three days after, to open my buſineſs to him.”
October 7.
"I HAD no fooner told him my bufinefs, but he en-
tered into it with all kindneſs; afked me for my powers,
and read them; and read likewife the memorial I had
drawn up, and put it into his pocket to fhew the Queen:
told me the meafures he would take; and, in fhort,
ſaid every thing I could wiſh. Told me he muſt bring
Mr. St. John and me acquainted; and ſpoke fo many
things of perfonal kindneſs and eſteem, that I am in-
clined to believe what fome friends had told me, that
he would do every thing to bring me over. He defired
me to dine with him on Tueſday; and, after four hours
being with him, fet me down at St. James's Coffee-
houſe in a hackney coach.
"I muſt tell you a great piece of refinement in Har-
ley. He charged me to come and fee him often: I
told him I was loth to trouble him, in fo much bufi-
nefs as he had, and defired I might have leave to come
at his levee; which he immediately refufed, and faid,
"That was no place for friends."
October 10, 1710.
"HARLEY tells me he has fhewn my memorial to the
Queen, and feconded it very heartily; becauſe, ſaid
he, the Queen defigns to fignify it to the Bishops of
Ireland in form, and take notice that it was done upon
a memorial from you; which he faid he did to make it
look more respectful to me: I believe never any thing
was compaffed fo foon, and purely done by my perſonal
credit with Mr. Harley; who is fo exceffively obliging,
that
58
THE LIFE OF
that I know not what to make of it, unleſs to fhew the
rafcals of the other party, that they uſed a man unwor-
thily, who had deferved better. He fpeaks all the
kind things to me in the world."
October 14.
"I STAND with the new people ten times better than
ever I did with the old, and forty times more careffed."
When we confider the rapidity of Mr. Harley's mo
tions on this occafion, who was remarkable for procraf-
tination, and the open freedom of his behaviour toward
Swift, fo contrary to that clofeneſs and reſerve, which
were his characteristics, we may judge of his eager de-
fire to fix him in their party. Nor was this hard to be
accomplished: Swift had long in his own mind been
of their fide; and he only waited for fuch a favourable
juncture as now offered to declare himfelf. Mr. Har-
ley's uncommon condefcenfion, flattered his pride;
and the obligingnefs of his behaviour, engaged his
friendship. Accordingly, after he had enquired into
their plan, and the meaſures which they intended to
purfue, as he found them entirely confonant to his own
fentiments, he embarked without heſitation in their
cauſe, and entered into their intereſts with his whole
heart. His approbation of their meaſures he expreffes
in the following manner in his Journal.
November 29, 1710.
"THE prefent Miniftry have a difficult task, and
want me. According to the beſt judgment I have,
they are purſuing the true intereft of the publick, and
therefore I am glad to contribute what lies in my
power,"
The
DOCTOR SWIFT.
59
The writers on both fides had before this taken the
field, and attacked each other with great acrimony.
On the Whig-fide, were Mr. Addiſon, Biſhop Burnet,
Sir Richard Steele, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Rowe, and
many others of leſs note. On the part of the Tories,
the chief writers were, Lord Bolingbroke, Biſhop At-
terbury, and Mr. Prior. They had begun a Weekly
Paper, called, The Examiner, which was the joint
work of thoſe three celebrated Writers, and had pu-
blished twelve numbers. But as foon as Swift declared
himſelf, they thought all aid to him unneceffary, and
the whole conduct of that Paper was from that time,
put into his hands. He entered the field alone, and,
with a Samfon-like ftrength, fcorned affiftance, and de-
ſpiſed numbers. His power of ridicule was like a flail
in his hand, against which there was no fence. Though
he induſtriouſly concealed his name, yet his friend Ad-
difon foon discovered him, and retired prudently from
the field of battle, leaving the reft expofed to the at-
tacks of this irreſiſtible champion; by whom it muſt
be allowed they were unmercifully handled, till, one
after another, they were all laid low. His firft Paper
was publiſhed on the 2d of November, 1710, No. 13,
of the Examiner, which was about a month after his
introduction to Mr. Harley; and he continued them
without interruption till June 7, 1711, where he drop-
ped it, clofing it with No. 44, and then leaving it to
be carried on by other hands. During this time he lived
in the utmoſt degree of confidence and familiarity, not
only with Mr. Harley, but the whole Miniſtry. Mr.
Secretary St. John was not behind Mr. Harley, either
in defire of cultivating Swift's acquaintance, or in ad-
drefs, which the following extract from his Journal will
fufficiently fhew.
Novem
60
THE LIFE OF
E
November 11, 1710.
"I DINED to-day, by invitation, with the Secretary
of State, Mr. St. John. Mr. Harley came in to us be-
fore dinner, and made me his excufes for not dining
with us, becauſe he was to receive people who came to
propoſe the advancing of money to the government.
The Secretary ufed me with all the kindneſs in the
world. Prior came in after dinner; and upon an oc-
cafion, the Secretary faid to him, "The beft thing I
ever read is not your's, but Dr. Swift on Vanbrugh;
which I do not reckon ſo very good neither, but Prior
was dampt, till I ftuffed him with two or three compli-
ments. He told me, among other things, that Mr.
Harley complained he could keep nothing from me,
I had the way ſo much of getting into him. I knew
that was a refinement, and fo I told him; and it was fo.
Indeed it is hard to fee thefe great men ufe me like one
who was their betters, and the puppies with you in Ire-
land hardly regarding me. But there are fome reafons
for all this, which I will tell you when we meet,"
In another place, he fays, March 3, 1710-11.
"I DINED with Mr. Harley to-day. Every Satur-
day, Lord Keeper, Secretary St. John, and I, dine
with him, and fometimes Lord Rivers, and they let in
none elſe. Iftaid with Mr. Harley till nine, when we
had much diſcourſe together, after the reft were gone,
and I gave him very truly my opinion, when he defi-
red it."
February 18, 1710.11.
"SECRETARY St. John would needs have me dine
with him to-day; and there I found three perfons I ne-
ver faw, two I had no acquaintance with, and one I
did not care for; fo I left them early, and came home,
it
DOCTOR SWIFT.
61
it being no day to walk, but fcurvy rain and wind. The
Secretary tells me he has put a cheat upon me; for
Lord Peterborough fent him twelve dozen flaſks of
Burgundy, on condition I ſhould have my fhare; but
he never was quiet till they were all gone; fo I reckon
he owes me thirty-fix pounds."
February 25.
"I DINED to-day with Mr. Secretary St. John, on
condition I might chooſe my company, which were
Lord Rivers, Lord Carteret, Sir T. Manfel, and Mr.
Lewis. I invited Maſham, Hill, Sir John Stanley,
and George Granville, but they were engaged; and I
did it in revenge of his having fuch bad company when
I dined with him before. So we laughed," &c.
In the beginning of February, there was a piece of
behaviour in Mr. Harley towards Swift, which nettled
him to the quick, and had nearly occafioned a breach
between them. Of this Swift gives the following ac-
count in his Journal.
February 6, 1710.
"Mr. HARLEY defired me to dine with him again
to-day, but I refuſed him; for I fell out with him yef-
terday, and will not fee him again till he makes me
amends."
February 7.
"I was this morning early with Mr. Lewis of the
Secretary's Office, and faw a letter Mr. Harley had fent
him, defiring to be reconciled; but I was deaf to all
intreaties, and have defired Lewis to go to him, and
let him know I expected farther fatisfaction. If we let
thefe great Minifters pretend too much, there will be
ΠΟ
62
THE LIFE OF
no governing them. He promifes to make me eafy,
if I will but come and fee him; but I won't, and he
fhall do it by meffage, or I will caft him off. I will
tell you the cauſe of our quarrel when I fee you, and
refer it to yourſelves. In that he did fomething, which
he intended for a favour, and I have taken it quite
otherwiſe, diſliking both the thing and the manner,
and it has heartily vexed me; and all I have faid is
truth, though it looks like jeſt: and I abfolutely refu-
fed to fubmit to his intended favour, and expect farther
fatisfaction."
In a ſubſequent part of the Journal he acquaints
Stella with the caufe of quarrel.
March 7, 1710.
*
"YES, I underſtand a cypher, and Ppt gueffes
right, as he always does. He gave me al bfadnnk
lboinlpt dfaonr ufainfbtoy dpeonufnadt; which I fent him
again by Mr. Lewis, to whom I wrote a very com-
plaining letter, that was fhewed him, and fo the mat-
ter ended. He told me he had a quarrel with me; I
faid I had another with him, and we returned to our
friendſhip, and I ſhould think he loves me as well as a
great Minifter can love a man in fo fhort a time."
Nothing could have been confidered by Swift as a
greater indignity, than this offer of Mr. Harley's,
which put him on the footing of a hireling Writer.
* Stella.
This is a fort of cypher, in which, to difguife the words, fuper-
fluous letters are introduced; and the way to read it is to paſs over
thoſe letters, and retain only ſuch as will make out words and ſenſe,
in the following manner, where the letters to be retained are capitals.
Al Bs Ad Nn K IBoInLpt dFaOnR uFaInFbToY dPcOnUƒNaD.
That is, A Bank Bill for fifty pound,
Accordingly,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
63
Accordingly, he was determined to let him fee how
much he had miftaken his man, by refufing to fee him
again till he had aſked his pardon by a third hand.
He laid hold of this opportunity, to let the Miniſtry
know how he expected to be treated by them for the
future as a man, who not only fcorned a ftate of de-
pendance, but who could not bear any thing that might
carry the leaſt appearance of it as one who entered a
volunteer in their cauſe, and who fcorned to lie under
any obligation, or accept of any thing to which he was
not juſtly entitled by his merits: and laſtly, as one,
who, confcious of his abilities to ferve the publick,
expected to be confidered by them as their coadjutor
in the caufe, and to be treated on a footing of entire
equality. Accordingly, immediately after Mr. Har-
ley had made his peace with him, he fhewed, by an
extraordinary piece of behaviour, that he was deter-
mined to exact this from them, without bating the
fmalleſt article. The circumftance is mentioned in the
following paffage of the Journal.
February 12, 1710.
"I DINED to-day with Mr. Secretary St. John: I
went to the Court of Requeſts at noon, and fent Mr.
Harley into the Houfe to call the Secretary, to let him
know I would not dine with him if he dined late.”
When this ſtory is told, without any other circum-
ſtance, and we are informed that a private Clergyman,
Vicar of a finall country living, in an obfcure part of
the world, fent the Prime Miniſter of Great Britain, to
bring out to him the First Secretary of State from the
Senate-houfe, where he was engaged in the important
buſineſs of the nation, upon fo frivolous an occafion,
we ſhould be apt to confider it was a wanton exertion
5
of
64
LIFE OF
THE
;
of the most infolent pride. But, when we reflect that
this was done the very day after he was reconciled to
Mr. Harley, and that he took the first opportunity of
retaliating the flight put upon him a few days before,
it can only give us a high opinion of his magnanimity.
Befides, upon this reconciliation, he thought it necef-
fary to give both Miniſters a ſpecimen of the terms up-
on which alone their union could continue, the princi-
pal of which was a moft perfect equality. How little
Swift was willing to allow them any fuperiority, may
be judged by an expreffion in his journal the next day
after this incident.
.
February 13, 1710-11.
"I HAVE taken Mr. Harley into favour again.
) ►
And it foon afterwards appeared how readily thefe
Minifters came into his terms, as may be feen from the
following paffage.
February 17, 1710-11.
"THE Miniftry are good honeft hearty fellows: I
ufe them like dogs, becauſe I expect they will ufe me
fo. They call me nothing but Jonathan, and I faid I
believed they would leave me Jonathan as they found
me; and that I never knew a Minister do any thing for
thoſe whom they make companions of their pleaſures:
and I believe you will find it fo, but I care not."
How tenacious he was of his rights in this refpect,
and how ready to take the alarm upon the least appear-
ance of their being infringed, we may judge from the
following account of what paffed between the Secretary
and him, fome time after, on an occafion of that fort.
April,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
65
April 1, 1711.
"I DINED with the Secretary, who feemed terribly
down and melancholy; which Mr. Prior and Lewis ob-
ferved as well as I: perhaps fomething is gone wrong;
perhaps there is nothing in it.
April 3.
"I CALLED at Mr. Secretary's, to fee what the D
ailed him on Sunday: I made him a very proper fpeech,
told him I obferved he was much out of temper; that
I did not expect he would tell me the caufe, but would
be glad to ſee he was in better; and one thing I warned
him of, never to appear cold to me, for I would not
be treated like a fchool-boy; that I had felt too much
of that in my life already: that I expected every great
Minifter, who honoured me with his acquaintance, if
he heard or faw any thing to my diſadvantage, would
let me know it in plain words, and not put me in pain
to guess by the change or coldneſs of his countenance
or behaviour; for it was what I would hardly bear from
a crowned head, and I thought no fubject's favour was
worth it; and that I defigned to let my Lord Keeper,
and Mr. Harley, know the fame thing, that they might
ufe me accordingly. He took all right; faid I had
reafon; vowed nothing ailed him, but fitting up whole
nights at buſineſs, and one night at drinking: would
have had me dined with him and Mrs. Mafham's bro-
ther, to make up matters; but I would not: I don't
know, but I would not. But indeed I was engaged
with my old friend Rollinfon; you never heard of him
before."
*In a fubfequent part of the Journal to Stella, he fays, "Don't you
remember how I uſed to be in pain, when Sir William Temple would
look cold and out of humour for three or four days, and I uſed to fuf-
pect a hundred reaſons? I have plucked up my fpirit fince then, faith;
he ſpoiled a fine gentleman."
F
From
66
THE LIFE OF
:
From this time we find that Swift was treated by the
Miniſtry with the most unreferved confidence in regard
to public affairs, and the moft familiar intimacy in pri-
vate; being always prefent at their moſt ſecret conful-
tations in political matters, and a conftant companion
of their chofen parties, to enliven their focial hour.
Swift has given us the following view of the light
in which he confidered the fituation of affairs about
that time.
March 4, 1710.
"THIS kingdom is certainly ruined, as much as was
ever any bankrupt Merchant. We muſt have a peace,
let it be a bad or a good one; though no-body dares
talk of it. The nearer I look upon things, the worſe
I like them. I believe the confederacy will foon break
to pieces, and our factions at home increaſe. The Mi-
niftry is upon a very narrow bottom, and ſtand like an
Ifthmus, between the Whigs on one fide, and violent
Tories on the other. They are able feamen, but the
tempeft is too great, the fhip too rotten, and the crew
all againſt them. Lord Sommers has been twice in the
Queen's cloſet, once very lately; and the Ducheſs of
Somerset, who now has the key, is a moft infinuating
woman; and I believe they will endeavour to play the
fame game that has been played against them. I have
told them all this, which they know already; but they
cannot help it. They have cautioned the Queen fo
much against being governed, that fhe obferves it too
much. I could talk till to-morrow upon theſe things,
but they make me melancholy. I could not but ob-
ferve lately, after much converſation with Mr. Harley;
though he is the moft fearleſs man alive, and the leaft
apt to defpond, he confeffed to me, that, uttering his
mind to me, gave him eafe."
Swift
DOCTOR SWIFT.
67
Swift was employed chiefly in writing the Examiners
till the beginning of the following June; when, ha-
ving with eaſe foiled all his opponents in this fkirmiſh-
ing way of fighting, he retired to prepare for the ge-
neral engagement, expected at the opening of the next
campaign, and which was likely to prove decifive with
regard to the fate of the two parties. It is certain,
that his apprehenfions for the fide which he had em-
braced, were daily increaſing; and as he faid himfelf,
"the nearer he looked upon things, the worfe he liked
them." But his apprehenfions were either confined
within his own breaft, or communicated only to the
Miniſtry, excepting in the Journal to Stella, where he
is wholly without referve. He had faid to her, ſo early
as January 7, 1710.-" In my opinion we have nothing.
to fave us but a peace, and I am fure we cannot have
fuch a one as we hoped, and then the Whigs will bawl
what they would have done, had they continued in
power. I tell the Miniftry this as much as I dare, and
ſhall venture to fay a little more to them."
Afterwards, he gave her an account of the danger
they were in, from the more violent Members of their
own party.
February 18, 1710.
"We are plagued with an October Club, that is,
a fet of above a hundred Parliament-men of the
country, who drink October beer at home, and meet
every evening at a tavern near the Parliament, to con-
fult on affairs, and drive things to extremes againſt the
Whigs; to call the old Miniftry to account, and get
off five or fix heads. The Miniftry feem not to regard
them; yet one of them in confidence told me, that
there muſt be ſomething thought on to fettle things
F 2
better.
ས
68
LIFE OF
THE
better. I'll tell you one great fecret: the Queen, fen-
fible how much she was governed by the late Miniſtry,
runs a little into the other extreme; and is jealous in
that point, even of thoſe who got her out of the other's
hands. The Miniſtry is for gentler meaſures, and the
other Tories for more violent. Lord Rivers, talking
to me the other day, curfed the Paper called the Exa-
miner, for fpeaking civilly of the Duke of Marlbo-
rough. This I happened to talk of to the Secretary,
who blamed the warmth of that Lord, and fome others;
and fwore, if their advice were followed, they would
be blown up in twenty-four hours. And I have rea-
fon to think, they will endeavour to prevail on the
Queen, to put her affairs more in the hands of a Mini-
ftry, than he does at prefent; and there are two men.
thought on, one of whom you have often met the
name of in my letters."
But though there were many external circumftances
which rendered the fituation of the Miniftry very pre-
carious, yet the chief danger arofe from themſelves,
through a want of concert and mutual confidence, fo
neceffary to men embarked in fo difficult an underta-
king. This was chiefly owing to the referve and myf-
terious conduct of Mr. Harley, which gave great um-
brage to Mr. St. John, and had very nearly occafioned
a breach between them about that time, of which Swift
makes the following mention in his Journal.
Auguſt 27, 1711.
"THE Whigs whifper that our Miniftry differ among
themſelves, and they begin to talk out the Secretary.
They have fome reafons for their whiſpers; though I
thought it was a greater fecret. I do not much like
the prefent pofture of things; I always apprehended
that
DOCTOR SWIFT.
69
that any falling out would ruin them, and fo I have
told them ſeveral times."
Befide this reſerve in the Treaſurer, there was a pro-
craftination in his temper, which ill fuited fuch a junc-
ture of affairs, as required the utmoft vigour and dif
patch. And though the Secretary was a man of great
parts and fire, yet had he ſuch a turn to diffipation, as
made him lofe opportunities, and produced as ill effects,
as the procrastinating turn of the Treaſurer. Of this
Swift complains in the following paffage of his Jour-
nal.
October 31, 1711.
"THE Duce is in the Secretary; when I went to him
this morning he had people with him; but fays, we
are to dine with Prior to-day, and then will do all our
buſineſs in the afternoon at two, Prior fends word
he is otherwiſe engaged: then the Secretary and I go
and dine with Brigadier Britton, fit till eight, grow
merry, no buſineſs done; we part, and appoint no
time to meet again. This is the fault of all the pre-
ſent Minifters; teafing me to death for my affiftance,
laying the whole weight of their affairs upon it, and
flipping opportunities."
On thefe, and many other accounts, things wore but
a very unpromising afpect on the fide of the Tories;
eſpecially as the leaders of the Whig-party were active,
vigilant, let flip no opportunity; and at the fame time,
being exasperated to the laft degree at the lofs of their
power, were determined to ftop at nothing, to compaſs
the ruin of thoſe who had fupplanted them. Yet,
however gloomy the profpect might be, Swift was not
of a temper to give way to defpondency. It is certain,
F 3
that
70
THE LIFE OF
that from the time he took a nearer view of the ſtate of
things, he had little hopes that the caufe in which he
had engaged would be brought to a happy iffue; yet
he determined, that, whenever it fhould fail, no part
of the miscarriage fhould be laid at his door; and ac-
cordingly he exerted himſelf with the fame fort of ar-
dour, as is ufually raiſed only by a near proſpect of fuc-
cefs, upon vigorous meaſures. Not content with per-
forming every thing that was allotted to him in his own
department, he let no opportunity flip of urging the
Minifters to do what was proper on their parts. He,
with great freedom, told them of their faults, or omif-
fions, fometimes in a ferious, fometimes in a jocoſe
way, as opportunities offered. There is a little anec-
dote of that fort, which fhews how freely he indulged
himſelf in this vein. Swift had received a prefent of a
curious fnuff-box from Colonel Hill, beautifully painted
with a variety of figures, which he fhewed to Lord Ox-
ford; who, after having examined the painting on the
lid, and admired the workmanfhip, turned up the bot-
tom of the box, where he ſpied a figure reſembling a
goofe, ftudded on the outside of the box; upon which,
turning to Swift, he faid, " Jonathan, I think the Co-
lonel has made a goofe of you.'
"'Tis true, my
Lord," replied Swift, "but if you will look a little
farther, you will fee I am driving a fnail
which indeed happened to be the device.
vere enough, Jonathan," faid my Lord,
ferved it."
r
>>
before me: "
"That's fe-
"but I de-
On another occafion, he obferved to Lord Boling-
broke, that men of great parts are often unfortunate in
the management of public buſineſs, becauſe they are
apt to go out of the common road, by the quickneſs of
their imagination: and he defired his Lordship to take
notice, that the Clerks in his Office ufed a fort of ivory
knife,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
71
knife, with a blunt edge, to divide a fheet of paper,
which never failed to cut it even, only requiring a ſteady
hand; whereas, if they fhould make ufe of a fharp pen-
knife, the ſharpneſs would make it go often out of the
creaſe, and disfigure the paper.
Theſe friendly admonitions of Swift, though they
might fometimes produce good effects in particular
cafes, when properly timed, yet could they do but
little towards eradicating faults, which feem to have
been in a great meaſure conftitutional, and which were
grown too ſtrong by habit to be eaſily overcome,
Happy therefore was it for the Miniſtry, that they had,
in Swift, fuch a faithful monitor, to remind them of
their errors, and fuch an able coadjutor, to fupply their
deficiencies. As no man perhaps ever poffeffed a greater
degree of natural fagacity than Swift, or was maſter of
a deeper penetration from clofe obfervations made on
human nature, he often warned the Minifters of dan-
gers in their own ſphere, which they did not fee, though
they had the advantage of being much nearer the fprings
of action; but the acuteness of his fight more than
made up for the different degrees of diftance. This
was fufficiently fhewn by the event, as all his conjec-
tures proved to be well-founded; nor was there a fingle
prognoſtic of his that failed. Theſe he was never ſpa-
ring to communicate to the Minifters, though the
phlegm of one, and diffipation of the other, generally
rendered fuch notices of little effect. They were in-
deed fo very dilatory or remifs in their preparations for
the approaching conteft, and their enemies fo vigilant
and active, that their ruin muft inevitably have been
accompliſhed foon after the meeting of the Parliament,
had it not been for the meaſures taken by Swift to pre-
vent it. Finding that he could not roufe the Miniſtry
to that activity, which fo critical a juncture required,
F 4
he
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he determined to leave nothing undone, that lay in his
own power, towards the fupport of the common cauſe.
There were two points, which he thought of the utmoft
importance, and which therefore demanded the higheft
attention: the one was, to put an end to the cabals of
the October Club, which threatened the most danger-
ous confequences to the Miniftry the other was, the
making of a Peace; without which, it was a maxim
with him that the Miniftry could not ftand. The firft
of theſe points he foon accomplished. He procured a
meeting of fome of the principal Members of the
Club at a tavern; where he gave them fuch cogent
reafons for the conduct of the Miniftry, as removed
their fears and jealoufies. This Meeting occafioned a
ſuſpicion in many of the abfent Members, which was
followed by a divifion of the Club; after which, their
meetings being neither fo numerous nor fo frequent,
they gradually dwindled away; and, upon the feaſon-
able publication of a little Pamphlet, by Swift, called,
"Some Advice to the Members of the October Club,"
they were in general fo well fatisfied, that their meet-
ings were no more heard of; and thefe very Members
were afterwards the ftaunchest friends that the Miniſtry
had in the Houfe of Commons. The affair of the
Peace was at a greater diftance, and a point of infi-
nitely more difficulty. Neceffary as it was that it fhould
be accomplished, in the difpofition that the nation then
was, the Miniftry did not even dare to hint it, and
there was but one way in which they could attempt it,
with the leaft degree of fafety to themſelves; and that
was, by raifing fuch a clamour for Peace, as ſhould
make the ſteps taken towards it by the Miniſtry, ap-
pear to be in confequence of the attention due to the
general voice of the nation. This Swift undertook to
accomplish; and with that view he took uncommon
pains
¡
DOCTOR SWIFT.
73
pains in drawing up that famous political Tract, called,
The 'Conduct of the Allies; the effects of which will pre-
fently be fhewn.
But Swift had ſtill a more difficult point to manage;
and one, which was attended with more immediate
danger than all the reft; I mean, that of keeping the
Miniftry from quarrelling among themfelves, which he
forefaw muft end in their total deftruction *. The
Treaſurer and Secretary were of fuch different difpofi-
tions, and fo little agreed about the means to be pur-
fued towards the attainment of the common end they
had in view, that it required the utmoſt addrefs to pre-
vent their coming to an open rupture; which would
probably have happened, even at that critical time,
had it not been for Swift's interpofition. Perhaps there
was no man living fo well qualified for the office of a
mediator between them, as Swift. The cafe required
the conftant interpofition of fome common friend to
both, who ſhould not be fufpected of any partiality to
either, or of any interefted views in the advice he
fhould give; at the fame time of one, who would ſpeak
his mind with unlimited freedom to each ſeparately, or
both together, without fear of difobliging. He must
therefore be a man, whofe affiftance was of fo much
moment to each, in the profecution of their feveral de-
figns, that neither would dare to break with the other
unreasonably, left his whole weight fhould be thrown
into the oppofite fcale. And perhaps there was no man
living, at that juncture, who could perfectly anfwer
this deſcription, but Swift. Accordingly we find, that
for the ſpace of more than two years afterwards, though
* Swift, in a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin, fays, "I take
the fafety of the prefent Miniftry to confift in the agreement of three
great men, Lord Keeper, Lord Treaſurer, and Mr. Secretary; and
fo I have told them together, between jeft and earneſt, and two of them
feparately, with more earneftnefs."
there
74
THE LIFE OF
there was much ill blood, and many bickerings between
them, he kept them from coming to an open rupture;
and the incurable breach, which afterwards enfued,
was made during his abfence in Ireland, when he went
to take poffeffion of his Deanry.
In this critical fituation of affairs, and in the midft
of that load of buſineſs which was thrown upon Swift's
ſhoulders, let us ſtop a while, to admire the vigour
and activity of his mind, which, at fuch a juncture,
could find leifure to throw out, as if it were a holiday
tafk, his favourite defign, of eſtabliſhing the Engliſh
language on fome folid foundation.
In a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin, dated
July 12, 1711, there is this paffage. "I have been
engaging my Lord Treaſurer, and the other great men,
in a project of my own, which they tell me they will
embrace, eſpecially his Lordſhip. He is to erect fome
kind of fociety, or academy, under the patronage of
the Miniſters, and protection of the Queen, for cor-
recting, enlarging, polifhing, and fixing our language.
The methods muſt be left to the fociety; only I am
writing a letter to my Lord Treaſurer, by way of pro-
pofals, and ſome general hints, which I deſign to pu-
bliſh, and he expects from me. All this may come to
nothing, although I find the ingenious and learned men
of all my acquaintance fall readily in with it; and fo I
hope will your Grace, if the defign can be well execu-
ted. I would defire at leifure fome of your Grace's
thoughts on this matter."
As the time of the Parliament's meeting approached,
which was to decide the fate of the parties, Swift ap-
plied himſelf clofely to the finiſhing of a work, from
which great matters were expected, toward inclining
people to the main object of the Miniſtry, a Peace.
His
DOCTOR SWIFT.
75
His first mention of it to Stella, is in his Journal,
October 26, 1711. "We have no quiet with the
Whigs, they are fo violent againſt a Peace; but I will
cool them, with a vengeance, very foon. I have writ-
ten a paper, which the Minifters reckon will do abun-
dance of good, and open the eyes of the nation, who
are half bewitched againſt a Peace. Few of this gene-
ration can remember any thing but war and taxes, and
they think it is as it fhould be; whereas it is certain,
we are the moſt undone people in Europe, as I am afraid
I ſhall make appear beyond all contradiction."
*
Upon the meeting of Parliament, on the 7th of De-
cember, 1711, Swift's apprehenfions and prognofticks
proved to be but too well founded. He faw clearly,
that if the Queen did not ſtand firm in fupport of the
Miniſtry, they were undone; and from a knowledge of
her temper, he dreaded fome change in her, from the
influence which the Duchefs of Somerſet had over
her; who had fucceeded the Duchefs of Marlborough
in her favour, and whoſe huſband was avowedly bent
on the deſtruction of the Miniftry. His fears proved
indeed to have been too well founded. What paffed
on this occafion, is thus related in his Journal, Decem-
ber 7, 1711. "The Earl of Nottingham began, and
ſpoke againſt a Peace, and defired, that in their Ad-
drefs they might put in a claufe, to adviſe the Queen
not to make a Peace without Spain; which was deba-
ted, and carried by the Whigs, by about fix voices, in
a Committee of the whole Houfe." The queſtion's
being then carried againſt the Miniſtry, was no ſmall
ſurpriſe to them, as they did not expect it, though
* In a letter to the Archbiſhop of Dublin, Swift fays, "You know
the Duchefs of Somerſet is a great favourite, and has got the Ducheſs
of Marlborough's key. She is infinuating, and a woman of intrigue;
and will, I believe, do what ill offices fhe can to the Secretary.”
Swift
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THE LIFE OF
с
Swift had often warned them of it, and pointed out
the means by which it would be effected. But the be-
haviour of the Queen, upon that occafion, was fuch a
thunderclap, as perfectly astounded them, and made
them size over all as loft. This circumftance is thus
related by Swift in his Journal, December 8, 1711.
"When the Queen was going from the Houſe of
Lords, where the fate to hear the debate, on the 7th of
December, 1711, the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord
Chamberlain, aſked her Majesty, whether he, or the
Great Chamberlain Lindfay, ought to lead her out;
the anfwered ſhort, Neither of you,' and gave her
hand to the Duke of Somerfet, who was louder than
any in the Houſe againſt a Peace." This behaviour of
the Queen could be conftrued in no other light than a
defertion of the Miniftry, and accordingly it produced
fuch an effect, that Swift tells us, "the claufe was car-
ried the next day, in the Houſe of Lords, almoſt two
to one." The confequences of this, are thus defcribed
by Swift, in his Hiſtory of the Peace of Utrecht.
When this Addrefs, againſt any Peace without Spain,
c. was carried in the Houfe of Lords, it is not eaſy
ro deſcribe the effect it had upon moft men's paffions.
The partifans of the old Miniftry triumphed loudly,
and without any referve, as if the game were their own.
The Earl of Wharton was obferved in the Houfe to
fmile, and to put his hands to his neck, when any of
the Miniſtry was fpeaking; by which he would have it
understood, that fome heads were in danger. Parker,
the Chief-Juſtice, began already, with great zeal and
officioufnefs, to profecute authors and printers of
Weekly and other Papers, and written in defence of
the Adminiſtration: in fhort, joy and vengeance fat vi-
fible in every countenance of that party.
« On
DOCTOR SWIFT.
77
"On the other fide, all well-wishers to the Church,
the Queen, or the Peace, were equally dejected; and
the Treaſurer ftood the foremost mark; both of his
enemies fury, and the cenfure of his friends. Among
the latter, fome imputed this fatal mifcarriage to his
procraftinating nature; others, to his immeaſurable
publick thrift! Both parties agreed, that a Firſt Mini-
fter, with very moderate ſkill in affairs, might eafily
have governed the events; and fome began to doubt,
whether the great fame of his abilities, acquired in
other ſtations, were what he juſtly deſerved." Swift
gives the following account of his firft interview with
the Lord Treaſurer on this occafion, in his Journal,
December 8, 1711. "Mr. Maſham begged us to
ſtay, becauſe Lord Treaſurer would call, and we were
refolved to fall on him about his negligence in fecuring
a Majority. He came, and appeared in good humour,
as ufual, but I thought his countenance was much caſt
down. I raillied him, and defired him to give me his
ſtaff, which he did; I told him, if he would ſecure it
me a week, I would fet all right: he afked, how? I
faid I would immediately turn Lord Marlborough, his
two daughters, the Duke and Duchefs of Somerſet,
and Lord Cholmondeley, out of all their employments;
and I believe he had not a friend but was of my opi-
nion. Arbuthnot afked, How he came not to fecure
a Majority? He could anſwer nothing, but that he
could not help it, if people would lie and forfwear. A
poor anfwer for a great Minifter. There fell from him
a Scripture expreffion, that the hearts of Kings are un-
Searchable. I told him, it was what I feared, and was
from him the worſt news he could tell me. I begged
him to know what we had to trust to: he stuck a little,
but at laſt bid me not fear, for all would be well yet."
Swift's
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THE LIFE OF
Swift's private fentiments on the occafion, are thus
expreffed in his Journal, December 8, 1711. "This
is a long Journal, and of a day, that may produce
great alterations, and hazard the ruin of England.
The Whigs are all in triumph. They foretold how all
this would be, but we thought it boafting. Nay, they
ſay the Parliament fhould be diffolved before Chrift-
mas, and perhaps it may. This is all your d—d
D― of St's doing: I warned the Miniſters of it
nine months ago, and a hundred times fince. The Se-
cretary always dreaded it. I told Lord Treaſurer I
hould have the advantage of him, for he would lofe
his head, and I fhould only be hanged, and fo carry
my body entire to the grave."
December 15, 1711.
"Here are the firſt ſteps to-
wards the ruin of an excellent Miniftry, for I look
upon them as certainly ruined. Some are of opinion
the whole Miniftry will give up their places next week;
others imagine, when the feffion is over. I do refolve,
if they give up, or are turned out foon, to retire for
fome months, and I have pitched upon the place al-
ready: I would be out of the way, upon the firſt of the
ferment; for they lay all things upon me, even fome I
have never read."
Lord Oxford now perceived the ill effects of his too
great fecurity; but as he was a man of great firmneſs
of mind, inſtead of being daunted at the dangerous
fituation of affairs, he applied himſelf vigorously to re-
trieve what had been loft. Swift fpeaks of him as a
man fruitful in expedients, and fays, "He never wanted
a reſerve upon any emergency, which would appear
deſperate to others:" and never did any occafion call
more for the exertion of fuch talents. The firſt necef-
fary step was to get the Queen back out of the hands
into which fhe had fallen, and then to fix her ſteadily in
the
DOCTOR SWIFT.
79
the purſuit of his meaſures. He had the addreſs very
foon to regain the Queen's favour and confidence; and
the firſt uſe he made of it was to reſtore the Majority
he had loft in the Houſe of Lords, by engaging her to
create twelve new Peers at once. This, it muſt be al-
lowed, was a deſperate ftep, but the defperate ſtate of
their affairs required it. Swift, in fpeaking of this
point, fays, "Yet, after all, it is a ftrange, unhappy
neceffity, of making fo many Peers together; but the
Queen has drawn it upon herſelf by her trimming and
moderation." This could not fail, however, of raifing
great clamours and jealoufies in the people. "The
adverſe party," (fays Swift in his Hiftory) "being thus
driven down by open force, had nothing left but to
complain, which they loudly did that it was a perni-
cious example ſet for ill Princes to follow, who, by the
fame rule, might make at any time a hundred as well
as twelve; and by thefe means become mafters of the
House of Lords, whenever they pleafed, which would
be dangerous to our liberties."
:
This unpopular meaſure was quickly followed by
another, which raiſed a univerfal clamour both at home
and abroad; and that was, the difmiffing of the Duke
of Marlborough from all his employments. This act,
whatever danger might attend it, was, to the Miniſtry,
an act of neceffity; for matters were then carried to
fuch a height, that there was no alternative, but either
the Duke, or the Miniftry, muft fall. However,
though it kept them in for the time, it rendered their
fituation exceedingly precarious. The people, alarmed
at the difmiffal of fo great and fortunate a General, in
the midſt of a war, expected nothing to follow but a
ſhameful Peace. The clamour for the continuance of
the war, became louder than ever, which was helped
on by the preſence of Prince Eugene, who had lately
arrived
80
THE LIFE OF
arrived in England, with the largest propoſals from the
Emperor for that purpoſe. All the Envoys from the
Allies beftirred themſelves every where to raiſe a ſpirit
for War; and the Whigs, enraged to the laft degree,
at the total lofs of their power, by the fall of their
Chief, left no stone unturned to roufe the people. In
a fhort time, the nation feemed to have but one voice,
which was, for the continuance of the war; and it was
certain, that if the Miniſtry could not carry a Peace,
it was impoffible they fhould ftand. In this critical fi-
tuation of affairs it was, that Swift's talents fhone forth
in their higheſt luftre. It was at this juncture, that his
celebrated political Tract, called, The Conduct of the
Allies, produced fuch marvellous effects. Never did
any thing of that nature cauſe ſo fudden a change in
the minds of the people. It immediately paffed through
feven editions, and eleven thouſand of them were fold
in less than a month. The Members, during the re-
cefs, had full time to read and confider it well; and
Swift, in his Journal, gives the following account of
the effects which it produced, February 4, 1711.
The Houfe of Commons have this day made many
fevere votes about our being abufed by our Allies.
Thoſe who ſpoke, drew all their arguments from my
book, and their votes confirm all I wrote. The Court
had a majority of 150. All agree, that it was my
book that fpirited them to theſe refolutions." And
ſhortly afterwards, fpeaking on the fame fubject, he
fays, February 8. "The refolutions, printed the other
day in the votes, are almoft quotations from it, and
would never have paffed, if that book had not been
written." That Swift had taken uncommon pains
about this Tract, appears from another paffage, where
he fays, "It is fit it ſhould anſwer the pains I have been
at about it.” Thus did the Doctor amply fulfil his
prediction
!
DOCTOR
DOCTOR
87
SWIFT.
prediction with regard to this book, in a paffage before.
cited, where he fays, "We have no quiet with the
Whigs, they are fo violent againit a Peace, but I will
cool them with a vengeance, very foon." The voice
of the Commons was immediately backed by a great
majority without doors, who were made converts by the
fáme arguments. Thus was the Miniftry indebted to
Swift, not only for their immediate prefervation, from
a deftruction which feemed inevitable, but for fuch a
folid eſtabliſhment in future, as could neither be un-
dermined or fhaken by the arts or violence of their ene-
mies; and they had nothing to fear, but from their own
diffentions among themfelves. After fo fignal a fer-
vice, it is no wonder that he grew into the deepeſt con-
fidence with them, and that they ever after cherished
him in their bofoms.
As the Miniftry were now at full liberty to purfue
their political plan with fecurity, and to take all proper
meafures towards bringing about a Peace; Swift, whofe
active ſpirit feems to have known no reft at that junc-
ture, and who was eager to make ufe of the influence
he had obtained, towards doing fome great public
good, laid hold of this opportunity to prefs his plan of
an academy. In a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin,
March 29, 1712, he fays, "I lately wrote a letter of
about thirty pages to Lord Treafurer, by way of pro-
pofal for an academy, to correct, enlarge, and afcer-
tain the English language: and he and I have named
above twenty perfons of both parties to be members.
I will fhortly print the letter, and I hope fomething of
it. Your Grace fees I am a projector too." In a fub-
fequent one, he fays, upon the fame fubject, "My
Lord Treaſurer has often promifed he will advance my
defign of an academy, fo have my Lord Keeper, and
all the Miniſters; but they are now too bufy to think
G
of
*
82
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a
of any thing beſide what they have upon the anvil. My
Lord Treaſurer and I have already pitched upon twenty
members of both parties; but perhaps it may all come
to nothing."
And afterwards, in another letter, he fays, "As for
an academy to correct and fettle our language, Lord
Treaſurer talked of it often very warmly; but I doubt
is yet too buſy until the Peace be over."
Swift indeed foon found, that his eagerness to ac-
compliſh a point, which he had fo much at heart, had
made him push it at an improper feafon; not only as
the hands of the Miniſtry were full, but as he himſelf
had work enough cut out for him of another kind. A
numerous body of the Whig writers were continually
affaulting the Miniftry, with the utmoft violence; and
they relied, for their defence, on the fingle arm of their
doughty champion, Swift.
On the other fide, the two champions, on whom the
Whigs moſt depended, were Biſhop Burnet and Mr.
Steel (afterwards Sir Richard) well known to the world
as writer of the greateft number of thofe ingenious
Effays, which appeared under the titles of the Tatlers,
Spectators, and Guardians. They placed great hopes
in two pamphlets, publiſhed about this time; one by
Bishop Burnet, under the title of An Introduction to the
third Volume of his Hiſtory of the Reformation: the other
by Mr. Steele, called, The Crisis. Theſe two were
immediately anfwered by Swift, with fuch infinite hu-
mour, wit, ridicule, and ftrength of argument, as not
only blunted the edge of thofe pieces, but lowered the
confequence of the Authors themfelves fo much, by
raifing the laugh ſtrongly against them, as to deprive
them of the power of doing future mifchief. We may
judge of the effect which thoſe two pamphlets muſt
have produced at that critical time, when we confider
→
with
DOCTOR SWIFT.
83
i
with what delight they are read at this day, on account
of their intrinfic merit, though we are little intereſted
with regard to the events which gave them birth. This
indeed diftinguishes Swift's political tracts from all
others; that theſe were written for a day; his, for per-
petuity: they borrowed their chief merit from circum-
ſtances and times; his, from the immenfity of his ge-
nius; their chief value arofe from fashion, his, from
weight. And he feems to have had the fame advantage
over his antagonists, as Homer has given to Achilles;
by cloathing him in celeftial armour, and furnishing
him with weapons of ethereal temper.
It may perhaps feem furprifing, that after fo many
and fuch important fervices, Swift fhould have res
mained fo long without preferment, or reward of any
kind; and the Miniſtry have on that account been char-
ged with ingratitude towards him. But they were far
from being unmindful of his merits, and had recome
mended him to the Queen to fill a vacant Bifhoprick.
But the Duchefs of Somerfet, who entertained an im
placable hatred against him, determined to move Hea-
ven and Earth to prevent his promotion taking place.
She firft prevailed on the Archbishop of York to oppofe
it, whofe remarkable expreffion to the Queen was, That
her Majesty fhould be fure that the man whom he was going to
make a Biſhop, was à Chriftian. But as he could give no
better colour for this furmife, than that Swift was fup-
pofed to be the Author of the Tale of a Tub, the
Biſhop was confidered as acting officiously, out of too
indifcreet a zeal, and his interpofition was of no avail.
The Duchefs then went in perfon to the Queen, and,
throwing herſelf on her knees, entreated, with tears in
her eyes, that ſhe would not give the Bishoprick to
Swift; at the fame time prefenting to her that excef-
fively bitter copy of verfes, which Swift had written
Ga
againft
?
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againſt her, called, The Windfor Prophesy. The Queen,
upon reading them, was ftung with refentment at the
very fevere treatment which he had given to a Lady, who
was known to ftand highly in her favour, and as a mark
of her difpleaſure, paffed Swift by, and beftowed the
Bishoprick on another.
As foon as it was known that Swift was in difgrace
with the Queen, his enemies began to attack him from
all quarters; and, as is ufual in fuch cafes, his Court
friends in general either deferted him, or looked coldly
on him. There were feveral fpeeches made againſt
him, both in the Houfe of Lords and Commons; par-
ticularly by the Earl of Nottingham in the former, and
Mr. Walpole (afterwards Sir Robert) and Mr. Aiſlabie,
who had before profeffed much friendship for him, in
the latter. The Scotch Lords went in a body to the
Queen, to complain of the Author of a Pamphlet,
called The public fpirit of the Whigs, in which were ma-
ny paffages highly injurious to the honour of their na-
tion, and defiring that the Author might be brought to
condign puniſhment. Accordingly, a reward was of-
fered by proclamation, of three hundred pounds, for
the diſcovery of the Author of that piece. But Swift
was a man of too much courage, and knew his own
ftrength too well, to be much alarmed at all thefe threat-
ening appearances. Inftead of retiring, he ſtood boldly
on his defence. His friend Lord Oxford too, and the
reſt of the Miniſtry, eſpouſed his caufe fo warmly, and
exerted their influence fo ftrongly in his behalf, that
he foon appeared again at Court in higher favour than
ever.
In April 1713, foon after the concluſion of the peace,
he was appointed Dean of St. Patrick's in Dublin; and
in the beginning of June following he fet out for Ire-
land, in order to be inftalled. His intention was, to
take
DOCTOR SWIFT.
85
take up his refidence there for fome time; but the Mi-
niftry, to whom his prefence was become neceffary,
would not fuffer it; and were fo importunate for his
return, that, after he had paffed thro' the neceffary
forms, and recovered from an indifpofition, which had
confined him fome time at his living in the country, he
returned to London, tho' very unwillingly *. Upon
his arrival, he found his prefence neceffary on two very
material accounts. One was, to prevent if poffible a
rupture between the Minifters, which was daily threat-
ened, as they had no longer the tie of common danger
to cement them, fince the conclufion of the Peace:
the other was, to defend the Articles of that Peace;
which were now violently attacked. In the former of
theſe points, he fucceeded for fome time fo far as to
make them keep fair appearances towards each other,
whatever ill will might be rankling in their hearts. And
with regard to the latter, he applied himſelf to the
finishing of the Hiftory of the Peace of Utrecht, in
which he had made a confiderable progrefs, before he
had gone to take poffeffion of his Deanery. He was
likewife particularly employed at this juncture with re-
lation to the affairs of Ireland, where party-rage had
at that time broken out into feveral violent and danger-
ous acts.
When he had finished the Hiftory, he put
it into the hands of Lord Oxford and Lord Boling-
broke, in order that it might be published; and foon
after returned to his Deanry. But he had fcarcely ar-
rived there, when there were a † hundred letters fent
* In a letter to the Archbiſhop of Dublin, dated from Ireland, he
Lays, "If your Grace goeth to London from the Bath, I believe I may
have the honour of waiting on you, altho' I thall do all in my power
to fave the trouble of fuch a journey, which neither my fortune nor my
health will very well bear."
+ See Swift's letter to the late Earl of Oxford,
G 3
after
86
THE LIFE OF
after him to recall him with all ſpeed, in order to uſe
his endeavours to reconcile the Minifters; who, ſoon af-
ter he had turned his back, had come to an open rupture.
Upon this intelligence, Swift returned immediately,
tho' he had ſcarce been a fortnight in Dublin. Upon
his arrival, he contrived to bring Lord Oxford and
Lord Bolingbroke together at Lord Maham's; where
he was left alone with them, and expoftulated freely
with both, but to little effect. However, they agreed to
go to Windfor together the next day. Swift, hoping they
might come to a more free explanation in a tête a tête,
than in the preſence of a third perfon, pretended bufi-
nefs the next morning, and fent them together to Wind-
for. He followed foon after, but found his ſcheme
had not produced the defired effect. He had one meet-
ing more with them, and finding the breach irrecon-
cileable, he told them he reſolved to retire, faying,
that, as he was a common friend to both, he would
not, upon a breach, take part with either. And as he
forefaw nothing from their difunion, but what would
be fatal to the general intereft, he was determined to
have no farther concern with public affairs. Swift on
this occafion acted the part of a zealous and difinte-
reſted friend, but he found no one to fecond him
which he laments in feveral places, as he imagined if
others had done their duty a reconcilement might have
been effected. In a letter to Mr. Pope, he fays, "I
only with my endeavours had fucceeded better, in the
great point I had at heart, which was that of reconci-
ling the Minifters to each other. This might have
been done, if others, who had more concern, and more
influence, would have acted their parts; and if this
had fucceeded, the public intereft, both of Church
and State, would not have been the worfe, nor the
Proteftant Succeffion endangered." But Swift was
probably
t
DOCTOR SWIFT.
87
probably the only man among them, who had either
the intereft of the public, or of the Minifters at heart;
the reſt ſeem rather to have been wholly intent upon
confidering how their own private advantage might be
promoted by this breach, and lifted themſelves under
the ſeveral leaders with this view. Had Swift been a
felfiſh man, he might certainly have made what terms
he pleaſed; as his weight, thrown into either ſcale,
would have been of great moment. But he was actu-
ated upon this occafion by that high principle of ho-
nour, from which he never fwerved in the whole courſe
of his life.
* By faction tir'd, with grief he waits a-while,
His great contending friends to reconcile.
Performs what friendſhip, juftice, truth require:
What could he more, but decently retire?
After his laſt fruitleſs conference with the Miniſters,
Swift immediately retired, as he faid he would, to a
friend's houfe in Berkshire. But this retirement was
not owing to a timid difpofition, which might prompt
him to be out of harm's way at this dangerous junc-
ture; nor to a principle of trimming, which might in-
duce him to lie upon the lurch 'till he faw which party
in the Ministry fhould gain the afcendant; no, it was
from a motive confonant to the nobleneſs of his mind,
He had already acquitted himſelf to the utmoſt in point
of friendship to the Miniſters; and by endeavouring to
unite them, had taken the ſhorteſt and fureft way to
ferve the common caufe. When this was found im-
practicable, he thought his duty to the public, at fo
critical a conjuncture, paramount to all other confider-
ations whatſoever; he therefore retired, in order to
Swift's verfes on himſelf,
G 4
have
88
THE LIFE OF
have leifure to lay open to the World the true caufes of
the violent diſorders of the State, let it offend whom it
would; and to point out the only remedies that could
effect a cure, however unpalatable they might prove to
fome of his best friends. It was on this occafion that
he wrote that fpirited Pamphlet, called, Some free
Thoughts upon the prefent State of Affairs; in which, with
great boldness, he charges the Minifters as the chief
caufes of the reigning diforders, from their mifconduct;
and lays the greateſt load of blame on the man whom
he loved beft in the world, Lord Oxford, Acting in
this, like a friendly and ſkilful furgeon, who lays open
the fore to the bottom, however painful the operation
may prove to the patient, when he fees no other way
of preventing a gangrene. The general blame which
he throws out upon the Miniftry, is prefaced in this
manner; "It may be matter of no little admiration,
to confider, in fome lights, the ſtate of affairs among
us for four years paft. The Queen, finding herſelf and
the majority of her kingdom grown weary of the ava-
rice and the infolence, the miſtaken politics and de-
structive principles of her former Minifters; calls to
the ſervice of the public another fet of men, who, by
confeffion of their enemies, had equal abilities, at
leaft, with their predeceffors; whofe intereft made it
neceffary for them (altho' their inclinations had been
otherwiſe) to act upon thoſe maxims which were moſt
agreeable to the Conftitution in Church and State;
whofe birth and patrimonies gave them weight in the
nation, and who (I ſpeak of thofe who were to have the
chief part in affairs) had long lived under the ftrictest
bonds of friendship. With all thefe advantages, fup-
ported by a vaft majority of the landed intereft, and
the inferior Clergy to a man, we have feveral times feen
the prefent Adminiftration in the greateft diftrefs, and
very
DOCTOR SWIFT.
89
very near the brink of ruin, together with the cauſe
of the Church and Monarchy committed to their
charge: neither does it appear to me, at the minute I
am now writing, that their power or duration is upon
any tolerable foot of fecurity; which I do not ſo much
impute to the addreſs and induſtry of their enemies, as
to fome failures among themſelves, which I think have
been full as viſible in their caufes, as their effects."
He then proceeds to enumerate feveral of thofe fail-
ings, among which, that which is mentioned in the
following paragraph is particularly levelled at Lord
Oxford." I must therefore take the boldness to affert,
that all thefe difcontents, how ruinous foever they may
prove in their confequences, have moſt unneceffarily
arifen from the want of a due communication and concert;
Every man muſt have a light fufficient for the length of
the way he is appointed to go: there is a degree of
confidence due to all ftations; and a petty conſtable
will neither act chearfully, nor wifely, without that
Thare of it, which properly belongs to him: altho' the
main fpring of a watch be out of fight, there is an in-
termediate communication between it and the ſmalleſt
wheel, or elfe no ufeful motion could be performed.
This referved, myfterious way of acting, upon points.
where there appeared not the leaft occafion for it, and
towards perfons, who, at least in right of their poſts,
expected a more open treatment, was imputed to fome
hidden defign, which every man conjectured to be the
very thing he was moft afraid of.
"But the effects of this myftical manner of proceed-
ing did not end here: for the late diffentions between
the great men at Court (which have been for fome time
paſt the public entertainment of every coffee-houfe)
are faid to have arifen from the fame fountain; while,
on one fide, very great referve, and certainly very great
refentment
90
THE LIFE OF
refentment on the other, have inflamed animofities to
ſuch a height, as to make all reconcilement impracti-
cable. Suppofing this to be true, it may ferve for a
great leffon of humiliation to mankind, to behold the
habits and paffions of men, otherwife highly accom-
pliſhed, triumphing over intereft, friendship, honour,
and their own perfonal fafety, as well as that of their
country; and probably of a moft gracious Princefs,
who had entruſted it to them. A fhip's crew quarrel-
ling in a ftorm, or while their enemies are within gun-
ſhot, is but a faint idea of this fatal infatuation; of
which, altho' it be hard to fay enough, fome people
may think perhaps I have already faid too much."
From the above paffages, it is clear that Swift was
determined not to fpare the incifion knife on this occa-
fion. And from the whole drift of the pamphlet, it is
highly probable, he had diſcovered that both Lord Ox-
ford and Lord Bolingbroke, had long fince loft fight of
the public intereſt, which had at first cemented them,
and had each no other object in view, but that of gra-
tifying his ambition. It could not eſcape a man of his
penetration, that they were in the condition of Pompey
and Cæfar; whereof the one could not bear an equal,
nor the other a fuperior. He refolved therefore to fe-
parate himſelf from them both, and try what he could
do apart for the public intereft. As he found private
admonition ineffectual to perfuade, he determined to
try whether public fhame, and the fear of the total de-
fertion of their party, might not compel them to a dif-
charge of their duty. He pointed out the only means
which could effectually put things once more on a pro-
per footing; and as he well knew Lord Oxford's un-
willingneſs to purfue thofe means, he was refolved to
drive him to it, thro' the fear of his being deferted
otherwife both by his party, and the Queen; which is
evidently
DOCTOR SWIFT.
91
evidently the tendency of the laſt paragraph in this
piece. "To conclude: the only way of fecuring the
Conſtitution in Church and State, and confequently this
very Proteſtant Succeffion itſelf, will be the leffening
the power of our domeftic adverfaries as much as can
poffibly confift with the lenity of our Government; and
if this be not ſpeedily done, it will be eafy to point where
the nation is to fix the blame: for, we are very well affu-
red, that fince the account her Majeſty received of the
cabals, the triumphs, the infolent behaviour of the
whole faction during her late illneſs at Windſor, ſhe has
been as willing to fee them deprived of all power to do mif-
chief as any of her moft zealous and loyal fubjects can
defire."
There was no opportunity however of trying what
effect this piece would have had, as the death of the
Queen, foon after it went to prefs, put a stop to the
publication. This event alfo put an end to all Swift's
noble defigns for the public benefit, and cut off at
once all his own future profpects. This was a terrible
blow to the whole party; but, tho' it was felt by no
one more feverely than by Swift, he had too much for-
țitude to fink under it. There is an admirable picture
given of him upon this occafion, by a few ſtrokes of
the maſterly hand of an Arbuthnot *. "I have feen
a letter from Dean Swift; he keeps up his noble ſpirit,
and tho' like a man knock'd down, you may behold
him ſtill with a ftern countenance, and aiming a blow
at his adverfaries."
In a few weeks after this event, Swift returned to
his Deanery in Ireland, where he continued many years
without visiting England,
Before we accompany him into exile, for as fuch he
always confidered it, let us take a review of his conduct
Letter to Pope.
during
92
THE LIFE OF
+
during the moft diftinguiſhed æra of his life, when he
had an opportunity of difplaying all the great talents of
his mind, and the excellent qualities of his heart, in a
moſt conſpicuous light. His engaging with the new
Miniftry was not either the effect of a fudden refolu-
tion, or of accident. He had long foreſeen the change,
and determined what part he ſhould take, whenever it
fhould be brought about; altho' he prudently con-
cealed his thoughts, till the event happened. It was
before mentioned, that Mr. Harley had very nearly
fucceeded in fupplanting the Whig Miniftry in the year
1708, two years before he actually effected it. While
this was in agitation, we find that Swift infinuates his
own intentions to his friend the Archbishop of Dublin,
in a letter dated November 9, 1708. "Altho' I care
not to mingle public affairs with the intereft of ſo pri-
vate a perfon as myfelf, yet, upon fuch a revolution,
not knowing how far my friends may endeavour to en-
gage me in the fervice of a new Government, I would
beg your Grace to have favourable thoughts of me on
fuch an occafion; and to affure you, that no profpect of
making my fortune, fhall ever prevail upon me to go
against what becometh a man of confcience and truth,
and an entire friend to the eſtabliſhed Church.”
However, as the defign failed at that time, Swift
made no advances to the Tories, but kept himſelf at
large, waiting for the event; which he forefaw would
certainly be brought about in time. He had leifure
mean while to lay down to himſelf the maxims by which
his conduct ſhould be regulated, whenever fuch a revo-
lution ſhould take place.
As there was much obloquy thrown on the charac
ter of Swift, on account of his fuppofed defertion of
the Whigs, and going over to the Tories, as foon as
they got into power, it will be proper to examine what
founda
+
DOCTOR SWIFT.
93
foundation the Whigs had for fuch a charge againſt
him.
Swift, in his Memoirs relative to the change in the
Queen's Miniftry, gives the following account of his
first introduction to the Leaders of the Whig party.
Speaking of his Pamphlet, entitled The Contests and
Diffentions of the Nobles and Commons in Athens and Rome,
&c. he fays: " This difcourfe I fent very privately to
the prefs, with the ftricteft injunctions to conceal the
author, and return'd immediately to my refidence in
Ireland. The book was greedily bought and read;
and charged, fometimes upon Lord Sommers, and
fometimes upon the Bishop of Saliſbury; the latter of
whom told me afterwards, that he was forced to difown
it in a very public manner, for fear of an impeachment,
wherewith he was threatened.
Returning next year for England, and hearing of
the great approbation this piece had received, which
was the firſt I ever printed, I muft confefs the vanity of
a young man prevailed with me, to let myfelf be known
for the author: upon which my Lords Sommers and
Hallifax, as well as the Bifhop abovementioned, defi-
red my acquaintance, with great marks of esteem, and
profeffions of kindnefs: not to mention the Earl of
Sunderland, who had been of my old acquaintance.
They lamented that they were not able to ſerve me fince
the death of the King, and were very liberal in promi-
fing me the greateft preferments I could hope for, if
ever it came in their power. I foon grew domeftic with
Lord Halifax, and was as often with Lord Sommers,
as the formality of his nature (the only unconverfable
fault he had) made it agreeable to me.
"It was then I began to trouble myfelf with the dif
ference between the principles of Whig and Tory; ha-
ving formerly employed myfelf in other, and I think,
much
2
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THE LIFE OF
-
much better ſpeculations: I talked often with Lord
Sommers upon this ſubject; told him, that having been
long converfant with the Greek and Roman Authors,
and therefore a lover of liberty, I found myſelf much
inclined to be what they called a Whig in politicks;
and that befides, I thought it impoffible, upon any
other principles, to defend the Revolution: but as to
religion, I confefs myfelf to be a High Churchman,
and that I did not conceive how any one, who wore the
habit of a Clergyman, could be otherwife. That I
had obferved very well with what infolence and haughti-
nefs fome Lords of the High-church party treated, not
only their own Chaplains, but all other Clergymen
whatſoever; and thought this fufficiently recompenfed,
by their profeſſions of zeal to the church. That I had
obferved the Whig Lords took a direct contrary mea-
fure; treated the perfons of particular Clergymen with
great courteſy, but ſhewed much ill-will and contempt
for the order in general. That I knew it was neceſſary
for their party to make their bottom as wide as they
could, by taking all denominations of Proteftants to be
members of their body. That I would not enter into
the mutual reproaches made by the violent men on ei-
ther fide; but that the connivance or encouragement
given by the Whigs, to thoſe writers of pamphlets who
reflected on the whole body of the Clergy, without any
exception, would unite the Church, as one man, to
oppoſe them; and that I doubted his Lordship's friends
did not confider the confequence of this. My Lord
Sommers, in appearance, entered very warmly into the
fame opinion, and faid very much of the endeavours
he had often uſed, to redreſs the evil I complained of.
This his Lordship, as well as my Lord Halifax, to
whom I have talked in the fame manner, can very well
remember, and I have indeed been told, by an ho
3
nourable
DOCTOR SWIFT.
95
nourable gentleman of the fame party, that both their
Lordſhips, about the time of Lord Godolphin's remo-
val, did, upon occafion, call to mind what I had faid
to them five years before."
Hence it appears evidently, that though Swift agreed
with the Whigs in his political principles, he differed
totally from them in thofe which regarded the Church,
and therefore was confidered by them only as a half-
brother; on which account they were not very folici-
tous to give him any preferment, though they wished
to keep upon good terms with him, by making many
fair promiſes, which it feems they had no intention to
perform. Of this we have already feen inftances in the
affair of his Secretaryfhip to Vienna, and the Bishoprick
of Virginia. Stung with this treatment, he broke off
all connection with them long before he had acceſs to
any of the Leaders of the Tory party, and while the
Whigs were yet in the plenitude of power. Nay, he
went farther, and publiſhed ſeveral pieces in oppofition
to their meaſures. Of which take the following ac-
count, given by himſelf in his Memoirs, &c. "" I
mentioned theſe infignificant particulars, as it will be
eafily judged, for fome reafons that are purely perfonak
to myſelf, it having been objected by feveral of thoſe
poor pamphleteers, who have blotted fo much paper to
fhew their malice against me, that I was a favourer of
the Low-party. Whereas it has been manifeft to all
men, that during the higheft dominion of that faction,
I had publiſhed ſeveral Tracts in oppofition to the mea-
fures then taken. For inftance, A Project for the Re-
formation of Manners, in a Letter to the Countess of
Berkeley; The Sentiments of a Church-of-England-
Man; An Argument againſt aboliſhing Chriftianity.
and, laitly, A Letter to a Member of Parliament,
againſt taking off the Teft in Ireland, which I have al-
ready
96
THE LIFE OF
ready mentioned to have been publifhed at the time the
Earl of Wharton was fetting out to his government of
that kingdom."
The fame cry about quitting the Whigs was raiſed
against him in Ireland, of which he takes the following
notice, in his Journal to Stella. "Why fhould the
Whigs think I came to England to leave them? fure
my journey was no fecret. I proteſt ſincerely I did all
I could to hinder it, as the Dean can tell you, although
now I do not repent it. But who the Devil cares what
they think? Am I under obligations in the leaft to any
of them all? Rot them, for ungrateful dogs, I'll make
them repent their uſage before I leave this place. They
fay here the fame thing of my leaving the Whigs; but
they own they cannot blame me, confidering the treat-
ment I have had."
On his arrival in London, he fays, "The Whigs are
raviſhed to fee me, and would lay hold on me as a twig,
while they are drowning, and the great men are ma-
king me their clumfy apologies, &c. But my Lord
Treaſurer (Godolphin) received me with a great deal
of coldnefs, which has enraged me fo, I am almoſt
vowing revenge." Soon after he fays,
"At ten I went
to the Coffee-houfe, hoping to find Lord Radnor,
whom I had not feen. He was there; and for an hour
and a half we talked treaſon heartily againſt the Whigs,
their baſeneſs and ingratitude. And I am come home
rolling reſentments in my mind, and framing fchemes
of revenge; full of which, having written down fome
hints, I go to bed." In another place, "'Tis good to
fee what a lamentable confeffion the Whigs all make
me of my ill ufage, but I mind them not. I am al
ready reprefented to Harley as a difcontented perfon,
that was uſed ill for not being Whig enough; and I
hope for good ufage from him." In a letter to Arch-
.
biſhop
DOCTOR SWIFT.
97
bishop King, September 9, 1710, he fpeaks more fully
to the fame effect. "Upon my arrival here, I found
myfelf equally careffed by both parties; by one, as a
fort of bough, for drowning men to lay hold of; and
by the other, as one difcontented with the late men in
power, for not being thorough in their defigns, and
therefore ready to approve prefent things. I was to
vifit my Lord Godolphin, who gave me a reception
very unexpected, and altogether different from what I
ever received from any great man in my life; altoge-
ther fhort, dry, and morofe; not worth repeating to
your Grace, until I have the honour to fee you."
In his Journal, Otober 2, 1710, he fays, "Lord
Halifax began a health to me to-day; it was the Re-
furrection of the Whigs, which I refuſed, unleſs he would
add their Reformation too: and I told him he was the
only Whig in England I loved, or had any good opi-
nion of *"
H
One
* What obligation Swift had to that Lord, and his party, may be
feen by his indorfement on the following letter, received from Lord
Halifax.
SIR,
October 6, 1709.
My friend, Mr. Addifon, telling me that he was to write to you
to-night, I could not let his packet go away, without telling you how
much I am concerned to find them returned without you. I am quite
ashamed for myfelf and my friends; to fee you left in a place fo inca-
pable of tafting you; and to fee fo much merit, and fo great qualities,
unrewarded by thoſe who are fenfible of them. Mr. Addiſon and I
are entered into a new confederacy, never to give over the purſuit,
nor to ceaſe reminding thofe who can ferve you, till your worth is
placed in that light it ought to ſhine: Dr. South holds out ftill, but
he cannot be immortal. The fituation of his Prebend would make
me doubly concerned in ferving you. And upon all occafions that
fhall offer, I will be your conftant folicitor, your fincere admirer,
and your unalterable friend. I am your moit humble and obedient
fervant,
HALIFAX:
Thus
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THE LIFE OF
One may
form a juſt idea of the greatneſs of Swift's
refentment, at the treatment he had met with from the
Whigs, from a paffage in his Journal of the following
year, after the wonderful fuccefs which his writings
againſt them had met with; where he fays, "I have
been gaining enemies by ſcores, and friends by couples,
which is againſt the rules of wiſdom; becauſe they ſay,
one enemy can do more hurt, than ten friends can do
good. But I have had my revenge at leaſt, if I get no-
thing elſe. And fo let fate govern."
I have been the longer upon this article, becauſe,
however Swift might have been acquitted of this charge
in England, where the real ſtate of the cafe was known,
I always found the imputation keep its ground in Ire-
land, and his character ftigmatized, as that of a turn-
coat for preferment, under the Tory-adminiftration.
We have already feen with what eagerness Lord Ox-
ford embraced the firft overtures made to him by Swift,
and what pains he took to engage him in his party. As
Swift well knew his own confequence, and the great
neceffity the new Miniftry had for his fervice, it is cer-
tain he might have indulged himſelf at fuch a juncture,
in the moſt flattering expectations, of rifing foon to the
higheſt dignities in his profeffion; and could have
made what terms he pleaſed with regard to his own in-
tereſt, if that had been the chief point he had in view.
But he had long formed in his head fome great plans
for promoting the publick welfare, in regard to which
all confiderations of felf, weighed with him but as the
duft upon the balance. He therefore determined, up-
Thus indorfed by Swift. I kept this letter as a true original of Courtiers,
and Court-promifes. And in the first leaf of a ſmall printed book, en-
titled, "Poefies Chretiennes de Monf. Jollivet," he wrote theſe words,
"Given me by my Lord Halifax, May 3, 1709. I begged it of him,
and defired him to remember, it was the only favour I ever received
from him, or his farty."
1th-s
on
DOCTOR SWIFT.
99
on his engaging with the new Miniftry, to make uſe of
all the weight and credit to which his fervices might
entitle him, in carrying on thofe publick plans, and to
leave the care of his own fortune wholly to chance.
How little folicitous he was about that article, may be
fully feen in a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin, da-
ted October 1, 1711, where he has been very explicit,
both as to his fentiments upon that head, and the con-
duct he was determined to obferve. "I humbly thank
your Grace for the good opinion you are pleaſed to have
of me, and for your advice, which feems to be wholly
grounded on it. As to the first, which relates to my
fortune, I shall never be able to make myfelf believed
how indifferent I am about it. I fometimes have the
pleaſure of making that of others; and I fear it is too
great a pleaſure to be a virtue, at least in me. Perhaps,
in Ireland, I may not be able to prevent contempt, any
other way than by making my fortune; but then it is
my comfort, that contempt in Ireland will be no fort of
mortification to me. When I was laft in Ireland, I was
above half the time retired to one fcurvy acre of ground,
and I always left it with regret. I am as well received
and known at Court, as perhaps any man ever was of
my level; I have formerly been the like. I left it
then, and perhaps will leave it now, (when they pleafe
to let me) without any concern, but what a few months
will remove. It is my maxim to leave great Minifters
to do as they pleafe; and if I cannot enough diftinguiſh
myſelf by being uſeful in fuch a way, as becomes a man
of conſcience and honour, I can do no more; for I ne-
ver will folicit for myſelf, although I often do for
others." And in another letter to the fame, dated in
the following year, he fays, "I know nothing of pro-
mifes of any thing intended for myfelf, but I thank
God, I am not very warm in my expectations, and know
Courts
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Courts too well to be furpriſed at difappointments;
which, however, I fhall have no great reafon to fear,
if I gave my thoughts any great trouble that way,
which, without affectation, I do not, although I can-
not expect to be believed when I fay fo."
In his Journal to Stella, where the inmoft receffes of
his heart are opened, he makes frequent mention of his
little folicitude, and ſmall expectation on that ſcore.
In one, dated January 1711, he ſays, "My new friends
are very kind, and I have promiſes enough, but I do
not count upon them. However, we will ſee what may
be done, and, if nothing at all, I fhall not be difap-
pointed." And in that of the June following,
"Re-
member, if I am ill uſed, and ungratefully, as I have
formerly been, it's what I am prepared for, and ſhall
not wonder at. Yet I am now envied, and thought in
high favour, and have every day numbers of confider-
able men teaſing me to folicit for them. And the Mi-
niftry all ufe me perfectly well, and all that know them,
fay, they love me. Yet I can count upon nothing, &c.
They think me uſeful, they pretend they were afraid
of none but me, and that they refolved to have me;
they have often confeffed this, yet all makes little im-
preffion on me." In that of March 1712, he fays,
"I had been with the Secretary before to recommend a
friend, one Dr. Freind, to be Phyfician-general, and
the Secretary promifed to mention it to the Queen.
I can ferve every body but myfelf." There are many
paffages to the fame effect throughout this Journal,
fo that we may conclude with certainty, that the defire
of ferving himſelf was one of the laft motives which
engaged him to enter ſo deeply into the political ſyſtem
at that time. No, he was actuated by a nobler prin-
ciple, a true ſpirit of patriotifm. He faw now a fair
opening for the exertion of his extraordinary talents,
in
DOCTOR SWIFT.
101
in ſupport of our excellent Conftitution, both in
Church and State; an occafion which he had long
waited for with impatience, and which he embraced
with ardour. He had, as he mentions in his Journal
to Stella, great things in view, to the accomplishment
of which he poftponed all confiderations of felf. Be-
fide his political plan, he had formed the design of
bringing about a general reformation in manners, and
taſte, which had been much corrupted under the Whig
Adminiſtration. He was firmly perfuaded, that the
only way to accompliſh theſe points, was to keep them
from ever returning again into power. He had a good
opinion of the intentions of the new Ministry; or,
whether they were fincere or not, the profeffed prin-
ciples, upon which they acted, were confonant to his.
He ſays, in a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin,
"Wanting wiſdom to judge better, I follow thoſe,
who, I think, are moſt for preſerving the Conſtitution
in Church and State, without examining whether they
do fo from a principle of virtue, or of intereft." And
indeed they were the only perfons that could poffibly
have overturned the Whig Adminiſtration, or, when
overturned, have kept them out; confequently, he
could have no hope, but in their continuance in power.
He early faw, and told the Miniftry, compoſed of
Lord Oxford, Lord Bolingbroke, and the Lord Keeper,
that all things depended on their union, and this he often
repeated to them, when they were together, and fepa-
rately to each. But he foon had occaſion to obſerve,
that two of them were formed of fuch difcordant tem-
pers, and had views fo oppofite, as to threaten a ſpeedy
breach. To prevent fo great an evil, which would at
once ruin their caufe, and put an end to all his noble
deſigns, he determined to keep himſelf in a fituation,
that would at all times qualify him for the office of a
media-
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mediator between them, and at the fame time give due
weight to his interpofition, by his remaining in a ſtate
of utter independence, and receiving no obligation in
return, while he was daily conferring the greateſt upon
them. It was on this account that he refufed to bẹ
Chaplain to Lord Oxford, who made an offer of it to
him, the very day after his being created Lord Oxford,
and appointed Lord Treafurer. In his Journal to
Stella, of the 24th of May, 1711, there is this paffage.
"My Lord Oxford can't yet abide to be called my
Lord; and when I called him my Lord, he called me
* Dr. Thomas Swift, which he always does when he has
a mind to teaſe me. By a fecond hand, he propoſed
my being his Chaplain, which I by a fecond hand ex-
cuſed; but we had no talk of it to-day; but I will be
no man's Chaplain alive." And in his Preface to the
Hiſtory of the Four laft Years of Queen Anne, hẹ
fays, "I abfolutely refuſed to be Chaplain to the Lord
Treaſurer, becauſe I thought it would but ill become
me to be in a ſtate of dependence." For the fame rea-
fon, very early after his connection with the Miniſtry,
he refuſed to accept of a living from the Lord Keeper,
which he thus mentions in his Journal. "Lord Keeper
told me, fome months ago, he would give me a living
when I pleaſed; but I told him I would not take any.
from him." There have been feveral inftances before
given of his early conduct towards the Miniſtry, fhew-
ing, that he expected to be treated by them on a foot-
ing of perfect equality; of which he never flipped any
opportunity of reminding them. In a letter to the
Lord Treaſurer, he fays, "When I was with you, I
have faid more than once, that I would never allow that
quality, or ſtation, made any real difference between
A coufin german of Swift, whom he held in the utmost contempt,
men.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
103
men. From thefe fentiments, I will never write to you,
if I can help it, otherwife than as to a private perſon,
or allow myſelf to have been obliged by you in any
other capacity." In a letter to Lord Bolingbroke, he
fays, I would have you know, Sir, that if the Queen
gave you a Dukedom, and the Garter to-morrow, with
the Treaſury juft at the end of them, I would regard
you no more than if you were not worth a groat." To
preferve this equality, which he then thought effential
to the great points he had in view, it was neceſſary he
fhould keep himſelf free from any particular obligation;
by which means he was confidered as a common difin-
tereſted friend by all the Miniſters. And it was in this
capacity that he was able to heal many breaches between
them, which would have been otherwife incurable. Of
this he makes frequent mention in his Journal. In that
of Auguft, 1711, he fays, "Do you know that I have
ventured all my credit with theſe great Minifters, to
clear fome miſunderſtanding between them; and if
there be no breach, I ought to have the merit of it?
'Tis a plaguy ticklish piece of work, and a man hazards
lofing both fides." In that of October following, is
this paffage.
"The Secretary told me last night he
had found the reaſon why the Queen was fo cold to him`
for fome months paft; that a friend had told it to him
yeſterday, and it was, that they fufpected he was at the
bottom with the Duke of Marlborough. Then he ſaid,
he had reflected upon all I had ſpoken to him long ago;
but he thought it had been only my fufpicion, and my
zeal and kindneſs for him. I faid I had reaſon to take
that very ill, to imagine I knew fo little of the world,
as to talk at a venture to a great Minifter; that I had
gone between him and Lord Treaſurer often, and told
each of them what I had ſaid to the other; and that I
had informed him fo before. He faid all, you may
imagine,
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imagine, to excufe himfelf, and approve my conduct.
I told him I knew all along, that this proceeding of
mine was the fureft way to fend me back to my willows
in Ireland, but that I regarded it not, provided I could
do the kingdom fervice in keeping them well together.
I minded him how often I had told Lord Treaſurer,
Lord Keeper, and him together, that all things de-
pended on their union, and that my comfort was, to
ſee them love one another, and I told them all fingly,
that I had not faid this by chance," &c. In Septem-
ber, 1712, he ſays, "I am again endeavouring, as I
was laſt year, to keep people from breaking to pieces
upon a hundred mifunderſtandings. One cannot withe
hold them from drawing different ways, while the ene-
my is watching to deſtroy both." And in the October
following, he fays, "I have helped to patch up thefe
people together once more. God knows how long it
may laſt." In many other places, he mentions the dif
agreeable neceffity he was under of continuing his en-
deavours in this way, and laments that he could get no
one to fecond him. In his enquiry into the behaviour
of the Queen's laft Miniftry, &c. he fays, "Neither
perhaps would a reconcilement have been an affair of
much difficulty, if their friends on both fides had not
too much obferved the common prudential forms of
not caring to intermeddle; which, together with the ad-
dition of a fhrug, was the conftant answer I received
from most of them, whenever I preffed them upon the
fubject. And, to fay the truth, moft perfons had for
avowedly declared themfelves on one fide, or the other,
that theſe two great men had hardly a common friend
left, except myſelf. I had ever been treated with great
kindness by them both; and I conceived what I wanted
in weight and credit, might be made up with fincerity.
and freedom. The former they never doubted, and
the
DOCTOR SWIFT.
105
the latter they had conftant experience of. I had ma-
naged between them for almoſt two years, and their can-
dour was fo great, that they had not the leaft jealouſy
or fufpicion of me." The truth of this account is con-
firmed in a letter written to Lord Bolingbroke, ſoon
after the Queen's death, where, fpeaking of the Lord
Treaſurer, he fays, "I am only forry it was not a refig-
nation, rather than a removal; becauſe the perfonal
kindneſs and diftinction I always received from his
Lordſhip and you, gave me fuch a love for you both,
(if you great men will allow that expreffion in a little
one) that I refolved to preferve it entire, however you
differed between yourſelves; and in this I did for fome
time follow your commands and example. I impute
it more to the candour of each of you, than to my own
conduct, that having been for two years almoſt the only
man who went between you, I never obſerved the leaſt
alteration in either of your countenances towards me.”
Nothing can fhew the character of Swift in a higher
point of light, than his conduct on this occafion; and
nothing could poffibly have preſerved to him the una-
bated love of theſe two great rivals for power, who ha-
ted each other mortally, in the diſcharge of fo delicate
an office, but the high opinion which each entertained
of his integrity, and perfect difintereſtedneſs. How-
ever, it is certain, that had it not been for his generous
and unwearied endeavours, their whole plan must have
been deſtroyed long before, and the Miniſtry, and the
party, involved in the fame ruin. So that as they were
indebted to him at firft, for faving them from the at-
tacks of their enemies, and eſtabliſhing them in power,
they were daily afterwards obliged to him for prefer-
ving them in it, by guarding them against their worſt
enemies, their own paffions. Having thus fufpended
all regard to his own intereft, after fuch important fer-
vices,
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fervices, he had an undoubted claim upon the Mini-
fters to promote every plan for the good of the public,
and could with a better grace push the fortune of
others. Accordingly, we find him bold and frequent
in his recommendations, wherever merit or compaffion
called for his affiftance. His first object was to procure
marks of diſtinction and reward, to all men of parts
and genius. The claim which he put in on that ſcore
to the Miniſtry, was not felfifhly confined to his own
perfon, but exacted equally for all others, according
to their ſeveral pretenfions. He infifted, that no dif
tinction of party ſhould be made with regard to them;
and that all of that clafs, who had lifted under the ban-
ner of the Whigs, fhould ftill be kept in their employ-
ments. In his Journal, he fays, "Do you know I have
taken more pains to recommend the Whig Wits to the
favour and mercy of the Minifters, than any other
people. Steele I have kept in his place. Congreve I
have got to be uſed kindly and fecured. Rowe I have
recommended, and got a promiſe of a place. Philips
I ſhould certainly have provided for, if he had not run
party-mad, and made me withdraw my recommenda-
tions. I fet Addiſon fo right at firſt, that he might
have been employed, and have partly fecured him the
place he has; yet I am worfe ufed by that faction than
any man." In another place he is particular in his re-
lation of what he had done with regard to Congreve.
"I went late to-day to town, and dined with my friend
Lewis. I faw Will Congreve attending at the Trea-
fury, by order, with his brethren, the Commiffioners
of the Wine Licences. I had often mentioned him with
kindneſs to Lord Treaſurer; and Congreve told me,
that after they had anſwered to what they were fent for,
my Lord called him privately, and fpoke to him with
great kindneſs, promifing his protection, &c. The
poor
DOCTOR SWIFT.
107
poor man ſaid, he had been uſed fo ill of late years,
that he was quite aſtoniſhed at my Lord's goodneſs, &c.
and defired me to tell my Lord fo; which I did this
evening, and recommended him heartily. My Lord
affured me he esteemed him very much, and would be
always kind to him; that what he faid was to make
Congreve eaſy, becauſe he knew people talked as if his
Lordſhip defigned to turn every body out, and particu-
larly Congreve; which indeed was true, for the poor
man told me he apprehended it. As I left my Lord
Treaſurer, I called on Congreve (knowing where he
dined) and told him what had paffed between my Lord
and me: ſo I have made a worthy man eafy, and that's
a good day's work.”
But of all the men of parts in the oppofition, Swift
ſeems to be moſt concerned about his friend Addiſon,
and on his account about Steele; of which he makes
frequent mention in his Journal. In that of October
19, 1710, foon after his firſt introduction to Lord Ox-
ford, then Mr. Harley, there is the following paffage.
"I was this morning with Mr. Lewis, the Under Se-
cretary to Lord Dartmouth, two hours, talking poli-
tics, and contriving to keep Steele in his office of
Stamp-paper. He has loft his place of Gazetteer, three
hundred pounds a year, for writing a Tatler fome
months ago, againſt Mr. Harley, who gave it to him
at firſt, and raiſed the falary from fixty to three hun-
dred pounds. This was devilish ungrateful, and Lewis
was telling me the particulars; but I had a hint given
me that I might fave him in his other employment;
and leave was given me to clear matters with Steele.
Well, I dined with Sir Matthew Dudley, and in the
evening went to fit with Mr. Addiſon, and offer the
matter at diſtance to him, as the diſcreeter perſon ;
but found party had ſo poffeffed him, that he talked as
3
if
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if he fufpected me, and would not fall in with any thing
1 faid. So I ſtopped fhort in my overture, and we
parted very drily; and I fhall fay nothing to Steele,
and let them do as they will; but if things ftand as they
are, he will certainly lofe it, unless I fave him; and
therefore I will not ſpeak to him, that I may not report
to his diſadvantage. Is not this vexatious, and is there
fo much in the proverb of proffered fervice? When
fhall I grow wife? I endeavour to act in the moſt exact
points of honour and confcience, and my neareſt friends
will not underſtand it fo. What muſt a man expect
from his enemies? This would vex me, but it ſhall
not."
In that of December following, he fays, " Mr. Ad-
diſon and I are different as black and white, and I be-
lieve our friendship will go off by this damned buſineſs
of party. He cannot bear feeing me fall in fo with
this Miniftry; but I love him ftill as much as ever,
though we feldom meet."
In the fame Journal he gives the following account :
"Lewis told me a pure thing. I had been hankering
with Mr. Harley, to fave Steele his other employment,
and have a little mercy on him; and I had been ſaying
the fame thing to Lewis, who is Mr. Harley's chief fa-
vourite. Lewis tells Mr, Harley how kindly I ſhould
take it, if he would be reconciled to Steele, &c. Mr.
Harley, on my account, falls in with it; and appoints
Steele a time to let him attend him, which Steele ac-
cepts with great fubmiffion, but never comes, nor fends
excufe. Whether it was blundering, fullenneſs,
any
infolence, or rancour of party, I cannot tell; but I
ſhall trouble myſelf no more about him. I believe Ad-
difon hindered him out of mere fpite, being grated to
the foul to think he fhould ever want my help to fave
his friend; yet now he is foliciting me to make another
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
109
of his friends Queen's Secretary at Geneva, and I'll do
it if I can; it is poor Paftoral Philips."
In another place he fays, "I called at the coffee-houſe,
where I had not been in a week, and talk'd coldly a
while with Mr. Addifon; all our friendſhip and dear-
nefs are off: we are civil acquaintance, talk words of
courſe, of when we ſhall meet, and that's all. Is it
not odd but I think he has ufed me ill, and I have
ufed him too well, at leaſt his friend Steele.”
In a few weeks after, he writes thus: "I went to
Mr. Addiſon, and dined with him at his lodgings; I
had not feen him thefe three weeks. We are grown
common acquaintance, yet what have I not done for
his friend Steele? Mr. Harley reproached me the laft
time I ſaw him, that to pleaſe me he would be recon-
ciled to Steele, and had promifed and appointed to fee
him, and that Steele never came. Harriſon, whom
Mr. Addiſon recommended to me, I have introduced to
the Secretary of State, who has promiſed me to take
care of him. And I have repreſented Addiſon himſelf
fo to the Miniftry, that they think and talk in his fa-
vour, though they hated him before. Well, he is now
in my debt, and there's an end; and I had never the
leaft obligation to him, and there's another end.
In the following year, May 1711, He fays, "Steele
has had the affurance to write to me, that I would en-
gage my Lord Treaſurer to keep a friend of his in em-
ployment." And in his Journal of July following, he
fays, "Mr. Addifon and I have at laft met again. I
dined with him and Steele to-day at young Jacob Ton-
fon's. Mr. Addifon and I talked as ufual, and as if
we had ſeen one another yeſterday; and Steele and I
were very easy, although I wrote him a biting letter,
in anſwer to one of his, where he defired me to recom-
mend a friend of his to Lord Treafurer." In the year
1712,
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THE
1712, we find he had brought Addiſon fo far about as
to dine with Lord Bolingbroke. In his Journal of that
year, he ſays, "Addifon and I, and fome others, dined
with Lord Bolingbroke, and fate with him 'till twelve.
We were very civil, but yet, when we grew warm, we
talked in a friendly manner of party Addiion raiſed
his objections, and Lord Bolingbroke anſwered them
with great complaifance."
From all theſe accounts, we may ſee what an amazing
difference there was between the minds of Swift and
Addiſon. What a grandeur in the one, what a little-
neſs in the other! Swift, though deeply engaged with
the ſucceſsful party, uſing all his endeavours to prevent
a difference in politics, from creating a difunion among
men of genius, Addiſon, from a narrowneſs of mind,
growing cool to a man for whofe talents he had profeſſed
the higheſt admiration, and for whofe perfon the warmeſt
regard, merely becauſe they were of different parties.
Swift, in the plenitude of power, when another would
have been glad of fo fair a pretence for breaking off all
commerce with him, perfeveres in his good offices to-
wards him, as if their friendſhip were ftill mutual and
inviolate; fets him on a good footing with the Mini-
ſtry, and preſerves him and his friends, notwithſtand-
ing the ill behaviour of the latter, in their employ-
ments. Addiſon, notwithſtanding he had forfeited all
pretenfions to Swift's friendship by his unmanly beha-
viour, and during the continuance of his coldneſs, is
mean enough to folicit Swift's intereft in favour of fome
of his friends. Swift, though never under the leaſt
obligation to Addifon when he was in power, exerts
his intereſt as if he had been under the higheſt, and
among others, procures for Harriſon, one of Mr. Ad-
diſon's recommending, an employment of no leſs than
twelve hundred pounds a year. When indeed Steele
had
DOCTOR
III
SWIFT.
had the affurance, as Swift juftly expreffes it, of de-
firing the fame favour, he fhews what a difference he
made between the men, by fending him, as he calls it,
a biting anſwer. Whether it was this which exaſperated
Steele, or from whatever other cauſe it were, he ſome
time after wrote a virulent paper in the Guardian againſt
Swift, which produced fome fevere expoftulations on
his part, to be ſeen in the letters that paffed between
them on that occafion. Where, on Steele's part, we
find the higheſt infolence, added to the bafeft ingrati-
tude; as will immediately appear on a view of thoſe
letters. Swift, in one to Addifon upon this fubject,
had faid, "Have I deferved this ufage from Mr. Steele,
who knows very well, that my Lord Treafurer has
kept him in his employment, upon my intreaty and in-
terceffion?" This charge Steele anfwers in the most in-
fulting manner, thus, They laugh at you, if they
make you believe your interpofition has kept me thus
long in office.' To this Swift in his reply, fays, "The
cafe was thus I did with the utmoſt application, and
defiring to lay all my credit upon it, defire Mr. Harley
(as he was then called) to fhew you mercy. He faid
he would, and wholly upon my account: that he would
appoint you a day to fee him; that he would not ex-
pect you ſhould quit any friend or principle. Some
days after, he told me he had appointed you a day, and
you had not kept it; upon which he reproached me,
as engaging for more than I could anfwer; and adviſed
me to be more cautious another time. I told him, and
deſired my Lord Chancellor and Lord Bolingbroke to
be witneffes, that I never would ſpeak for or againſt
you, as long as I lived; only I would defire, and that
it was ftill my opinion, you fhould have mercy, 'till
you gave farther provocations. This is the hiftory of
what you think fit to call, in the fpirit of infulting,
their
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their laughing at me. And you may do it fecurely i
for, by the moſt inhuman dealings, you have wholly
put it out of my power, as a Chriftian, to do you the
leaft ill office."
After having read the feveral paffages relative to
Steele, before quoted in the Journal, no one can doubt
but that Swift has here fairly ſtated the caſe, and that
he might even have put it in a ſtronger light. It is
hard to ſay whether Steele's weakneſs of head, or bad-
nefs of heart, were moft confpicuous in this tranfaction.
Cauſeleſsly to attack and inſult a man, to whom he lay
under fuch obligations, argued great baſeneſs; and his
defence of himfelf, by denying an obligation fo noto-
riouſly conferred, ſtill more fo. And to provoke a man
to prove
the reality of his charge, that it was he alone
who had hitherto kept him in his employment, by get-
ting him immediately diſcharged from it, which Swift
could have done by ſpeaking a word, was furely weak.
But in that point he was fecure, he knew his man too
well: He knew Swift was incapable of a mean revenge.
He might, as Swift nobly ſays to him, 'do it fecurely ;'
"for, (as he adds) by the moſt inhuman dealings, you
have wholly put it out of my power, as a Chriftian, to
do you the leaſt ill office." Yet, though Swift was
above a revenge of this fort, he thought himfelf called
upon to answer his challenge, as a Writer, and chaftife
his infolence in his own way. Which he afterwards did
fo effectually, in his famous Pamphlet, called The Pu-
blic Spirit of the Whigs, and in ſeveral fubfequent pieces,
that, from being an Author of fome eminence, Steele
became for ſome time an object of ridicule and con-
tempt. How weak, or how vain muft the man have
been, to have defied fuch a champion to fo unequal a
combat! I have been the longer in the detail of this
tranſaction, becauſe it is, perhaps, the only inftance to
be
DOCTOR SWIFT.
113
be found of Swift's ever having broke entirely with
any man with whom he had lived on terms of friend-
fhip; and to juftify the extreme feverity which appeared
in his writings againft Steele, after fo great a provoca-
tion.
Having feen the care which Swift took of men of
genius, fo that even their oppofition in party fhould be
of no prejudice to them, we may fuppofe he was not
lefs folicitous in promoting the interefts of others, who
were under no demerit of that fort. Accordingly we
find, there were not any at that time, of the leaft pre-
tenfions in that way, who were not obliged to him for
effential fervices. The famous Dr. Berkeley, after-
wards Biſhop of Cloyne in Ireland, owed his fortune
wholly to him, as he placed him in the road which led
to his promotion. In his Journal of April 7, 1713,
he fays, "I went to Court to-day, on purpofe to pre-
fent Mr. Berkeley, one of your Fellows of Dublin
College, to Lord Berkeley, of Stratton. That Mr.
Berkeley is a very ingenious man, and a great Philofo-
pher; and I have mentioned him to all the Miniſters,
and have given them fome of his writings, and I will
favour him as much as I can. This I think I am bound
to in honour and confcience, to ufe all my little credit
towards helping forward men of worth in the world."
He afterwards got him appointed Chaplain to Lord
Peterborow's Embaffy, who procured for him the rich
Deanery of Derry. Pope, in his Preface to the Tranf-
lation of Homer, expreffes the higheft obligations to
him for his zeal in promoting the fubfcription to that
work. Gay, by his intereft, was appointed Secretary
to the Embaffy to Hanover. Harriſon, a young man
of promifing genius, recommended to him by Mr.
Addiſon, was made by him Queen's Secretary at the
Hague, a place of one thousand two hundred pounds
I
a year,
7
114
THE LIFE OF
a year, though he lived but a fhort time to enjoy it.
We have already feen in what manner he introduced,
and recommended Parnell to the Miniftry. Nor was
he unmindful of fuch as had but a moderate fhare of
merit in that way. He made Dr. King Gazetteer; he
made Trap Chaplain to Lord Bolingbroke. He dif-
covered ſome marks of original genius in ſome Sea
Eclogues, written by an obfcure man, one Diaper, and
immediately fought the Author out, and brought him
into light of this he gives the following account in his
Journal, December 1712. "This morning I prefented
one Diaper, a Poet, to Lord Bolingbroke, with a new
Poem, which is a very good one; and I am to give a
fum of money from my Lord. I have contrived to
make a Parfon of him, for he is half one already, be-
ing in Deacon's orders, and a ſmall cure in the country;
but has a ſword at his tail here in town. 'Tis a poor,
little, fhort wretch, but will do beft in a gown, and we
will make Lord Keeper give him a living."
>>
Nor were his good offices confined to men of genius
only, but merit of every kind was fure to find in him a
warm advocate, and oppreffed innocence, a protector.
He fays, in a letter to Lady Betty Germaine, "when I
had credit for fome years at Court, I provided for above
fifty people in both kingdoms, of which, not one was
a relation.' And we find, in his Journal and Letters,
that he did numberless good offices for others. He fays,
in more places than one, that Lord Oxford never once
refuſed him any requeft of that fort. His character was
fo well known in this refpect, that we fee, in the Col-
lection of Letters, feveral addreffes to him from per-
fons, either little known to him, or utterly unacquainted
with him, requefting his affiftance, in cafes of compaf-
fion; or protection, in thofe of oppreffion. Nor did
he ever fail to interfere, in either cafes, when any fuch
5
came
DOCTOR SWIFT.
115
came to his knowledge by accident, though it were
with regard to perfect ftrangers. There was one re-
markable occafion, on which he interpofed in favour of
a man, though he held him in no degree of eſtimation,
merely from a principle of juftice; which was, in the
cafe of the famous Dr. Sacheverell: who, though he
had been of infinite ufe to the Tory Miniſtry, nay, was
in reality the occafion of their getting into power, yet,
when the work was done, was laid by, as the tools of
Stateſmen too often are, when they can be of no farther
uſe, and utterly neglected. That Swift was of this opi-
nion, is clear from the following paffage in his Journal.
"So Sacheverell will be the next Biſhop! He would be
glad of an addition of two hundred pounds a year to
what he has, and that is more than they will give him, for
aught I fee. He hates the new Miniſtry mortally, and
they hate him, and pretend to deſpiſe him too. They
will not allow him to have been the occafion of the late
change, at leaſt ſome of them will not: but my Lord
Keeper owned it to me the other day." Swift therefore
thought it but common juftice in the Miniftry to do
fomething for him; and, without any application from
the Doctor, or even any perfonal acquaintance with
him, in the year 1711, he procured a place for his bro-
ther; who, by a failure in trade, had, for fome years,
together with his whole family, been entirely fupported
by the Doctor. This affair is thus related by Swift in
his Journal. "Did I tell you that Sacheverell has de-
fired mightily to come and fee me? but I have put it
off. He has heard that I have ſpoken to the Secretary
in behalf of a brother whom he maintains, and who
defires an employment. T'other day, at the Court of
Requeſts, Dr. Yalden faluted me by name; Sacheve-
rell, who was juſt by, came up to me, and made many
acknowledgments and compliments. Laft night I de-
I 2
fired
116
OF
THE LIFE
fired Lord Treaſurer to do fomething for that brother
of Sacheverell's. He faid he never knew he had a bro-
ther; but thanked me for telling him, and immediately
put his name in his table-book. I will let Sacheverell
know this, that he may take his meafures accordingly;
but he ſhall be none of my acquaintance." A letter
from the Doctor to Swift, dated January 31, 1711-12,
begins thus. "Since you have been pleafed to under-
take the generous office of foliciting my good Lord
Treaſurer's favour in my behalf, I ſhould be very un-
grateful, if I did not return you my moft hearty thanks
for it, and my humbleft acknowledgments to his Lord-
hip for the fuccefs it has met with." And in the con-
clufion, he fays, "But for yourſelf, good Doctor, who
were the firft fpring to move it, I can never fufficiently
acknowledge the obligation." Afterwards, in the year
1713, foon after the three years filence impofed upon
the Doctor by the Houfe of Lords, in confequence of
his impeachment, had expired; Swift procured for him
the Rectory of St. Andrew's Holborn, in the following
whimfical manner. Upon that living's becoming va-
cant, he applied for it in behalf of Sacheverell, to
Lord Bolingbroke; who feemed not at all difpofed in
his favour, calling him a bufy, meddling, factious fel-
low, one who had fet the kingdom in a flame. To
which Swift replied, it is all true, my Lord; but let me
tell you a story. "In a fea-fight, in the reign of
Charles II. there was a very bloody engagement be-
tween the English and Dutch fleets; in the heat of
which, a Scotch feaman was very feverely bit by a louſe
on his neck, which he caught, and ftooping down to
crack it, juft as he had put himſelf in that poſture, a
chain-fhot came and took off the heads of feveral failors
that were about him; on which he had compaffion on
the poor loufe, returned him to his place, and bid him
live
DOCTOR SWIFT.
117
live there at difcretion; for, faid he, as thou haft been
the means of faving my life, it is but juft I fhould fave
yours." Lord Bolingbroke laughed heartily, and ſaid,
well then, the loufe fhall have the living for your ſtory.
And accordingly he was foon after prefented to it. In
all folicitations of this nature, confcious of the good-
nefs of his motives, which were either thofe of merit,
compaffion, or juftice, he was bold in his recommen-
dations, and made them rather as demands, than re-
quefts. Of this we have an inftance in the following
paffage of his Journal, January 1711-12. "This
morning I preſented my printer and bookfeller to Lord
Rivers, to be ftationer to the Ordnance. I believe it
will be worth three hundred pounds a year to them.
This is the third employment I have got for them. Ri-
vers told them the Doctor commanded him, and he
durft not refufe." And in the next page, he fays, "I
was this morning again with Lord Rivers, and have
made him give the other employment to my printer
and bookfeller; 'tis worth a great deal." His book-
feller was Tooke, and his printer, Barber, afterwards
Lord Mayor of London. As they were both very ho-
neft men, and ran great rifques in publifhing fome of
his bolder pieces, for which Barber was alfo taken into
cuftody, he thought he could not reward their fervices
and fidelity too highly; and we find, upon the whole,
he procured employments for them, to the amount of
nearly two thouſand pounds a year. This was the
foundation of Barber's fortune, which he always ac-
knowledged, with the higheft gratitude, and to the laſt
made every return in his power to his great Patron.
The expreffion of Lord Rivers, "that the Doctor com-
manded him, and he durft not refufe," was literally
true; not only with regard to him, but to all the Mi-
niftry, who feemed to look up to him as to one of a fu-
perior
I
3
118
THE LIFE OF
perior clafs of mortals; both on account of his ama-
zing talents, and that noble quality of perfect difinte-
reftedneſs, perhaps not to be paralleled in his time,
and rarely to be found in the annals of hiſtory. This
gave fuch a dignity to his character, and fuch a weight
to his recommendations, that it does not appear he ever
failed in any. And indeed it would have been ſtrange,
that the men in power ſhould have refuſed any requeſts
of that fort, which tended highly to their own honour,
by promoting men of talents and worth, to a man who
was daily employed in doing them the most important
fervices, without once hinting at any return for them
to himſelf. In this ftate did this extraordinary man
continue for near three years, without the fimalleſt re-
ward, or the leaſt addition to his fortune, which con-
fifted only of a living of about two hundred and fifty
pounds a year, and not quite five hundred pounds in
cafh; at the fame time that he was in fuch a degree of
power, that he was making the fortune of multitudes.
Thus did he verify his early declaration to the Arch-
biſhop of Dublin, before quoted. Nothing aftonished
the people of thofe times more, than that fo diftinguiſh-
ed a man, and apparently in fuch high favour, fhould
have remained, for fuch a length of time, without any
promotion: and that he ſhould at laft be rewarded only
with a paltry Deanery, in another kingdom, to which
he went with the utmoft reluctance, and which was
looked upon by himſelf, as well as by the world, only
as a fpecies of banishment, has ever fince been confi-
dered in fo extraordinary a light, that various have been
the conjectures of the world to account for it. Some,
who knew Swift's real merits towards the Miniftry,
have not been backward in charging them with the ba-
feft ingratitude on the occafion. Others, not fo well
acquainted with the hiftory of thoſe times, thought it
was
DOCTOR SWIFT.
119
was impoffible Swift could have been a man of fuch
importance as he was reprefented, otherwife he must
certainly have made his way to the higheſt ſtation in the
Church; and confidering him only as a Writer of fome
political Papers and Pamphlets, were not furprifed that
his reward fhould be no greater. But, fince the publi-
cation of the private memoirs of thofe times, in Swift's
laft Volumes, there is no farther room for conjecture,
as this whole affair may be fet in its true light, upon un-
doubted proofs. I have already given many ſtriking
inftances of the little folicitude Swift had about pufh-
ing his own fortune. I fhall now remind the reader of
the principle upon which he acted, mentioned in a paf-
fage before quoted, from a letter of his to the Arch-
biſhop of Dublin, dated October 1, 1711.
"It is my
maxim to leave great Minifters to do as they pleafe;
and if I cannot diftinguish myself enough, by being
uſeful in fuch a way, as becomes a man of confcience
and honour, I can do no more; for I never will folicit
for myſelf, although I often do for others." This re-
folution we find, by many other paffages, he ftrictly ad-
hered to; and when we confider the procraftinating dif-
pofition of Lord Oxford, we fhall not be ſurpriſed at
his not being in any hafte to provide for a man who ne-
ver folicited him. Nothing is more common than the
deferring of any thing, however ftrongly in our inten-
tion it be to do it fome time or other, which we con-
fider as always in our power to do, unlefs we are parti-
cularly called upon to carry it into execution at fome
certain time; and this was more likely to be the cafe in
one of his turn. Befides, as he was daily gratifying
Swift in his requefts for others, he thought he might
with reafon expect that he fhould wait the moſt conve-
pient feafon for his own promotion. And with regard
to Swift himſelf, I have already affigned fome very
powerful
I 4
120
THE LIFE OF
powerful motives which made him in no hafte with re-
ſpect to preferment. But, above all, there were many
things, while he remained in that fituation, which gra-
tified his peculiar difpofition and turn of mind to the
height. His proud fpirit was much fonder of confer-
ring, than receiving obligations. In his Journal to
Stella of March 1711-12, where he fays, he can do no-
thing for himſelf, he adds, "I don't care, I fhall have
Minifters, and other people obliged to me." And he
did not wish to receive any return for his fervices, till
they were fwelled to fuch a height, as to make any re-
ward, how great fo ever, fall fhort of their value, and
fo free him from any debt on the fcore of obligation.
He had all this time an opportunity of difplaying the
pride of independence, and of fhewing, that by his
own talents and intrinfic worth, without any of the
ufual aids in life, he could raife himfelf to a higher de-
gree of confequence and power, than others could do
by noble birth, high ftation, or enormous wealth.
muſt have been no fmall gratification to him, to think
that it was to this little Vicar of Laracor, that the Mi-
niftry were indebted for remaining in their pofts; that
he was their protector and preferver in thofe pofts, in
fpite of their enemies, and of themfelves. That by
degrees he grew into fuch confidence with them, that
there was nothing done in public affairs without con-
fulting him; and that the world in general confidered
him as the primum mobile of all their conduct, infomuch,
that there were many fpeeches made against him by
name, on that account, both in the Houfe of Lords
and Commons. That he fhould have the greatest men,
foreign Ambaffadors, &c. foliciting the Miniftry,
through him, for favours. That his acquaintance
fhould be courted by perfons of the highest rank, and
obtained only by a few, not on the fcore of their qua-
It
lity,
DOCTOR
121
SWIFT.
lity, or fortune, but merit. Was there not a fecret
pride in receiving thefe, in a lodging of eight fhillings
a week, and walking to the doors of all the greateft
men of the age, which flew open at his approach? Ne-
ver fure was a greater triumph of parts and virtue, over
the ufual idols of the world. To the immortal honour
of Swift be it recorded, that he was the firft man of
letters and genius that we read of, who afferted the fu-
periority of talents over titles, of virtue over wealth,
in the face of the great and the rich; and not content
with vain fpeculations, and idly declaiming on the fub-
ject, as all others had done, boldly demanded and re-
ceived the homage due to fuch fuperiority, both for
himſelf and others. This he could never have done,
had he not convinced the Great, that however they
might ftand in need of his affiftance, he wanted not
theirs. That he could be perfectly content with his
prefent fortune, fmall as it was, and return to his wil
lows at a day's notice, on any ill treatment, without
the leaft reluctance. That they could have no hold on
him either on the ſcore of avarice, or ambition. As
to the former, the noble refentment which he fhewed
to the firſt attempt of Lord Oxford, to lay him under
a pecuniary obligation; the indignation which he ex-
preſſed on two or three occafions, on bribes being of
fered to him for his intereft; and, above all, his fcorn-
ing to make any advantage of his * Works, ſo con-
trary to the eſtabliſhed practice of all other Authors,
fhewed that he was unaffailable in that way. And as to
ambition, his whole conduct proved that he was deter-
mined to owe his rife wholly to his own merits, and not
fo
**As an inftance of this, he fays, in his Journal of November 1711,
I am forry I fent you the Examiner, for the printer is going to print
them in a ſmall volume. It ſeems the author is too proud, to have
them printed by fubfcription, though his friends offered, they fay, to
make it worth five hundred pounds to him."
to
122
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to any folicitation or intereft on his behalf. In fhort,
from his many declarations to others, in his letters be-
fore quoted, as well as thofe made to his bofom friend
in his Journal, and from the whole tenour of his actions,
confonant to thofe declarations, we may fee that Swift,
upon joining with the new Miniftry, had laid down this
rule for his conduct; that he would ferve the publick
interefts, and the common caufe, to the utmost of his
power; that he would exert all his influence in promo-
ting men of talents and worth; and with regard to his
own fortune, leave it wholly to chance, and Court-gra-
titude; of which, however, he had fo mean an opi-
nion from former experience, that he relied little on it,
and was perfectly prepared againſt any diſappointment.
In his Journal of January 1710-11, he fays, "My new
friends are very kind, and I have promifes enough,
but I do not count upon them; and befides, my pre-
tences are very young to them. However, we ſhall fee
what may be done, and if nothing at all, I fhall not be
diſappointed, although perhaps poor * M. D. may, and
then I ſhall be forrier for their fakes than my own."
And in that of June following, he fays, "Remember,
if I am ufed ill and ungratefully, as I have formerly
been, 'tis what I am prepared for, and fhall not
wonder at it." And in that of October following,
he fays to Stella, "I have no fhuddering at all to
think of retiring to my old circumſtances, if you can
be eaſy."
But while Swift was thus letting occafions flip, and
the Miniſters deferring the reward of his fervices, there
was a cabal forming at Court, which put a stop to his
promotion for a while, and had nearly prevented a pof-
fibility of it during that reign. It is to be obferved,
* By M. D. is generally meant Stella, though fometimes it ftands
for Stella and Mrs. Dingley.
that
DOCTOR
123
SWIFT.
that however high he was in favour with the Miniſtry,
it does not appear that he ever ftood well with the
Queen, or that fhe once gave him the leaft mark of her
countenance or favour. Swift had mentioned to Stella,
early in his Journal, that Mr. Harley had faid, he
would prefent him to the Queen; but in his fubfequent
one of January 1710-11, he fays, Mr. Harley, of late,
has faid nothing of prefenting me to the Queen.-I was
overfeen when I mentioned it to you. He has fuch a
weight of affairs on him, that he cannot mind all; but
he talked of it three or four times to me, long before I
dropt it to you." Nor does it appear afterwards,
through the courfe of the Journal, that this was ever
done, or that the Queen took the leaft notice of him.
On the contrary, it is to be feen in many places of
Swift's Works, that fhe had imbibed ſtrong prejudices
againſt him; firft, from Dr. Sharpe, Archbishop of
Yorke, who reprefented him as a Free-thinker, or In-
fidel; a character which that religious Queen muft,
above all others, deteft in a Clergyman: and next, from
the Duchefs of Somerſet, her favourite, who hated
Swift mortally, and took every opportunity of repre-
fenting him in the worst colours to her Royal Miſtreſs.
But, above all, the Queen had a reaſon of her own for
difliking Swift, as he was conftantly employed in endea-
vouring to counteract her favourite plan. What that
was, will fufficiently appear from the following extracts.
In his Journal to Stella, fo early as February 1710-11, he
fays, "I'll tell you one great ftate fecret: the Queen, ſen-
fible how much fhe was governed by the late Miniftry,
runs a little into t'other extreme, and is jealous in that
point, even of thoſe who got her out of the other's
hands." He hints the fame in other paffages of his
Journal. But in fome of his Tracts, publiſhed fince
his death, he is quite explicit on this article, and has
ઃઃ
laid
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THE LIFE OF
laid open a fecret fpring of government, which was
conſtantly operating during the four laft years of that
Queen; and which being concealed, except from a very
few, rendered the proceedings of the Firſt Miniſter
wholly unaccountable to his friends at that time, and
to all fince who have entered into an examination of
his conduct; but which being now difclofed, at once
folves a riddle, hitherto thought inexplicable. In his
Tract, intitled, Memoirs relating to the Change in the
Queen's Miniſtry in 1710, there is the following paf-
fage. "She (the Queen) grew fo jealous upon the
change of her fervants, that often, out of fear of be-
ing impofed on, by an over caution, he would impofe
upon herſelf. She took a delight in refufing thoſe who
were thought to have greateft power with her, even in
the moſt reaſonable things, and fuch as were neceffary
for her ſervice, nor would let them be done, until fhe
fell into the humour of it herfelf." In another Tract,
intitled, An Enquiry into the Behaviour of the Queen's laft
Ministry, there is a paffage to the fame effect.
"But
in difpenfing her favours, fhe was extremely cautious.
and flow; and after the ufual miſtake of thofe who
think they have been often impofed on, became fo very
fufpicious, that fhe over-fhot the mark, and erred on
the other extreme. When a perfon happened to be re-
commended as ufeful for her fervice, or proper to be
obliged, perhaps, after a long delay, fhe would con-
fent; but if the Treaſurer offered at the fame time a
warrant, or other inftrument to her, already prepared,
in order to be figned, becauſe he prefumed to reckon
on her confent before-hand, fhe would not; and thus
the affair would fometimes lie for feveral months toge-
ther, although the thing were ever fo reafonable, or
that even the publick fuffered by the delay. So that
this Miniſter had no other remedy, but to let her Ma-
1
jeſty
DOCTOR SWIFT.
125
jefty take her own time, which never failed to be the
very longeft, that the nature of the thing could fuffer
her to defer it." Hence it is evident, that the Queen,
who had long been weary of the bondage in which
he was held by the Whig Miniſtry, was deter-
mined, upon a change, that he would not bring her-
felf into the fame predicament again, but was refolved
to fhew that he had a will of her own, and that the
would exert it; and, in order to be able to do this ef-
fectually, her plan was, not to fuffer the Tory intereſt
to grow too ftrong, but to keep fuch a number of
Whigs ftill in office, as fhould be a conftant check up-
on her Miniſters, againſt any encroachments of that
fort. In the above-mentioned Tract, there are feveral
paffages that prove this point. In one it is faid, "It is
moſt certain, when the Queen first began to change
her fervants, it was not from a diſlike of things, but
of perfons; and thoſe perſons were a very ſmall num-
ber. And afterwards, when, upon fome events, things
were puſhed farther than fhe at firft intended, it was
with great regret fhe faw fome of the principal great
Officers among the Whigs refign their employments.
For, fays the Author, "She had entertained the no-
tion of forming a moderate or comprehenſive ſcheme,
which he maintained with great firmneſs, nor would
ever depart from, until about half a year before her
death." This conduct, no doubt, was good policy in
the Queen, in order to preſerve a due fhare of autho-
rity to herſelf; but at the fame time her Miniſter ſuf-
fered extremely by it, who bore the brunt of all this
trimming and moderation, which were imputed to fome
fecret defigns of his own, and caufed incurable jealou-
fies and fufpicions in his friends, as well as the whole
Tory party. Of this Swift gives the following account
in the fame Tract. "I remember it was then com-
monly
?
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THE LIFE OF
monly understood and expected, that when the feffion
ended, a general removal would be made: but it hap-
pened otherwife; for not only few or none were turned
out, but much deliberation was uſed in ſupplying com-
mon vacancies by death. This manner of proceeding,
in a Prime Minifter, I confefs, appeared to me wholly
unaccountable, and without example; and I was little
fatisfied with the folution I had heard, and partly
knew, that he acted thus to keep men at his devotion,
by letting expectation lie in common; for I found the
effect did not anfwer; and that in the mean time he led
fo uneafy a life, by folicitations and purfuits, as no man
would endure, who had a remedy at hand. About the
beginning of his Miniftry, I did, at the requeſt of ſe-
veral confiderable perfons, take the liberty of repre-
fenting this matter to him. His answer was ſhort and
cold; that he hoped his friends would truſt him; that
he heartily wished that none, but thoſe who loved the
Church and Queen, were employed, but that all could
not be done on a fudden. I have reafon to believe,
that his neareſt acquaintance were then wholly at a loſs
what to think of his conduct. He was forced to pre-
ferve the opinion of power, without which he could not
act; while, in reality, he had little or none; and be-
fides, he thought it became him to take the burden of
reproach upon himſelf, rather than lay it upon the
Queen, his Miftrefs, who was grown very pofitive, flow,
and fufpicious; and from the opinion of having been
formerly too much directed, fell into the other extreme,
and became difficult to be advifed. So that few Mini-
fters had ever perhaps a harder game to play, between
the jealoufy and difcontents of his friends on one fide,
and the management of the Queen's temper on the
other." In another part of the fame Tract, there is a
paffage to the ſame effect. "Upon Mr. Harley's re-
covery,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
127
covery, which was foon followed by his promotion to
an Earldom, and the Treaſurer's Staff, he was earneſtly
preffed to go on with the change of employments, for
which his friends and the kingdom were very impatient;
wherein I am confident he was not unwilling to com-
ply, if a new incident had not put farther difficulties
in his way. The Queen, having thought fit to take
the key from the Duchefs of Marlborough, it was, af-
ter fome time, given to another great Lady (the
Duchefs of Somerfet) wholly in the interefts of the
oppofite party; who, by a moft obfequious behaviour,
of which he is a perfect miſtreſs, and the privilege of
her place, which gave her continual accefs, quickly won
fo far upon the affections of her Majefty, that ſhe had
more perſonal credit than all the Queen's fervants put
together. Of this Lady's character and ftory, having
fpoken fo much in other papers, which may one day
fee the light, I fhall only obferve, that as foon as ſhe
was fixed in her ftation, the Queen, following the courſe
of her own nature, grew daily more difficult, and un-
complying. Some weak endeavours were indeed uſed
to divert her Majefty from this choice; but fhe conti-
nued ſteady, and pleaded, that if the might not have
the liberty of choofing her own fervants, fhe could not
ſee what advantage ſhe had gotten by the change of her
Miniſtry and fo little was her heart fet upon what they
call a High-Church, or Tory Adminiſtration, that fe-
veral employments in Court and Country, and a great
majority in all Commiffions, remained in the hands of
thoſe who moſt oppofed the prefent proceedings." And,
as a farther confirmation of the Queen's difpofition in
this refpect, he fays, in the fecond part of the above
Tract, "Her only objection againſt ſeveral Clergymen,
recommended to her for promotions in the Church,
was their being too violent in party. And a Lady,
Lady Matham.
in
128
THE LIFE OF
in high favour with her, has frequently affured me,
that whenever he moved the Queen to difcard fome
perfons, who, upon all occafions, with great virulence,
oppoſed the Court, her Majefty would conftantly re-
fufe, and at the fame time condemn her for too much
party-zeal." Such being the Queen's fyftem of con-
duct, it is evident that Swift muſt have been more ob-
noxious to her, than any man living, as he was the
moft unwearied in his endeavours to counteract her
views, by rooting out the Whigs entirely, and there-
fore ſhe muſt conftantly have looked upon him with an
evil eye. But when at laſt he made a direct attempt to
get her to diſcharge her favourite, the Duchefs of So-
merſet, in a Copy of Verfes addreffed to the Queen,
the moit bitter, with regard to the Duchefs, perhaps,
that ever was penned, called "The Wind for Pro-
phecy;" the Queen gave evident marks of her difplea-
fure, and took afterwards an opportunity of fhewing
her refentment to the Author, by proclaiming a reward
of three hundred pounds for difcovering the Author of
a Pamphlet, called The Public Spirit of the Whigs,
which fhe knew to have been written by Swift, in fup-
port of the Miniſtry. This fact he has commemorated,
in a Copy of Verſes on himfelf, where, fpeaking of the
Duchefs of Somerfet, he fays,
From her red locks her mouth with venom fills,
And thence into the Royal ear inftils.
The Queen incens'd, his fervices forgot,
Leaves him a victim to the vengeful Scot:
Now through the realm a proclamation ſpread,
To fix a price on his devoted head:
While innocent, he fcorns ignoble flight,
His watchful friends preferve him by a fleight.
And
DOCTOR SWIFT.
129
And in the Preface to his Hiftory of the Four laft Years
of Queen Anne, he fays, "I was fo far from having any
obligation to the Crown, that, on the contrary, her
Majefty iffued a Proclamation, offering three hundred
pounds to any perſon who would diſcover the Author
of a certain ſhort Treatife, which the Queen well knew
to have been written by me."
From all that has been offered upon this head, we
may clearly deduce the reafon why Swift remained fuch
à length of time without any promotion, and may fairly
exonerate Lord Oxford from the charges made againſt
him on that ſcore. It is now evident, though before
it was a fecret to the world, that he had by no means
that degree of power, which he was fuppofed to enjey,
in any matter whatever; but in any point that did not
fall in with her Majefty's pleafure, he had none at all,
much less therefore in fuch as fhe was fet against. A-
mong which number, that of the promotion of Dr.
Swift, for the reafons above-mentioned, feems to have
been one. If, as he has related, "Her only objection
againſt ſeveral Clergymen, recommended to her for pro-
motions in the Church, was their being too violent in
party;" how much more ſtrongly muſt this have ope-
rated with regard to him, whofe zeal in the caufe he
had efpouſed, tranfported him fo beyond all bounds of
moderation, as to keep no meafures even with her;
though he well knew her difpofition. Of this he gave
a ſtrong proof in the Windfor Prophecy; the tendency
of which was, to prevail on her Majefty to remove the
Duchefs of Somerfet, the patronefs of the Whig caufe,
by the most bitter invectives on her character, from her
poft; and to receive Mrs. Mafham, who was equally
attached to the Tory intereft, in her place. He was fo
indifcreet as to give orders for the publication of that
piece, which would have been done, had not Mrs.
Malham
K
130
LIFE OF
THE
Maſham prevented it. Of this he gives the following
account, in his Journal of December 1711. "I call-
ed at noon at Mrs. Mafham's, who defired me not to
let the Prophecy be published, for fear of angering the
Queen about the Duchefs of Somerfet; fo I wrote to
the printer to ſtop them. They have been printed,
and given about, but not fold." And a little lower,
he fays, "I entertained our Society at the Thatch'd-
houſe tavern to-day at dinner; but brother Bathurst
fent for wine, the houſe affording none. The printer
had not received my letter, and ſo he brought us a do-
zen a-piece of the Prophecy; but I ordered him to
part with no more. 'Tis an admirable good one, and
people are mad for it." As this Society confifted of
fixteen, we here fee there was a fufficient number got
abroad, to have it generally fpread; fo that it was no
difficult matter for the Duchefs to procure a copy,
which he kept by her in petto, 'till fhe fhould find a
convenient feafon for wreaking her revenge. This foon
offered itſelf, when he was recommended to the Queen
for a vacant Biſhoprick, from which he was precluded
by the Ducheſs, in the manner before related. Who-
ever reads that Prophecy, is acquainted with the
Queen's difpofition, and knows the afcendency which
the Duchefs maintained over her to the laft, will not
wonder that Swift remained fo long without any pro-
motion. That Lord Oxford was folicitous for his
friend's preferment, appears from his recommending
him fo early to a Bifhoprick, which was a fact of gene-
ral notoriety at that time, and fince confirmed to me by
good authority. And the reafons are now equally ob-
vious, why it was not in the Lord Treaſurer's power to
promote him afterwards; though it is probable that he
studiouſly concealed this from Swift, as he might think
the diſcovery of his inability to ferve him, might have
fent.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
131
fent him back to his willows, at a time when he moſt
needed his affiftance. But to make him amends, he
ſhewed him every perfonal kindneſs in his power, pro-
vided for all whom he recommended; and never, as
Swift himſelf declares, refufed him any thing that he
afked.
In this fituation Swift remained during the ſpace of
two years and a half, from his firft acquaintance with
the Miniſtry; often declaring to Stella, that he was
weary of the fcene in which he was engaged, and of
the part which he took in it; frequently expreffing, an
earneſt deſire of returning to his former fituation, and
declaring as often, that nothing reftrained him from
doing it, but that he thought himſelf obliged, both in
honour and duty, not to defert the caufe in which he
was engaged, and of which he was the great champion,
'till he had done every thing in his power towards the
eſtabliſhment and fupport of it. When therefore he
had nearly finiſhed his Hiftory of the Peace of Utrecht,
which was the laft work he propoſed on the ſubject, he
determined to ftay no longer, unlefs fomething ho
nourable were done for him. At this juncture, there
happened to be vacant three Deaneries in Ireland, and
a Canonry of Windfor, with ſome other Church pre-
ferments in England. Swift therefore filently refolved,
if there were no notice taken of him on this occafion,
to return to Laracor, and have done with Courts for
The account we have of this in his Journal,
written to the hour, will beft reprefent to us his ſtate of
mind at that time. Journal, April 13, 1713. "This
morning my friend Mr. Lewis came to me, and ſhewed
me an order for a warrant for the three vacant Deane-
ries, but none of them to me. This was what I always
forefaw, and received the notice of it better, I believe,
than he expected. I bid Mr. Lewis tell my Lord Trea-
furet,
ever.
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132
THE LIFE OF
me.
furer, that I take nothing ill of him, but his not giving me
timely notice, as he promised to do, if he found the Queen
would do nothing for me. At noon, Lord Treaſurer
hearing I was in Mr. Lewis's Office, came to me, and
faid many things too long to repeat. I told him, I had
nothing to do but go to Ireland immediately, for I
could not, with any reputation, ftay longer here, un-
lefs I had fomething honourable immediately given to
We dined together at the Duke of Ormond's.
He there told me he had ftopped the warrants for the
Deans, that what was done for me might be at the
fame time, and he hoped to compafs it to-night; but
I believe him not. I told the Duke of Ormond my
intentions. He is content Sterne fhould be a Biſhop,
and I have St. Patrick's, but I believe nothing will come
of it, for ftay I will not; and fo I believe you will fee
me in Dublin before April ends. I am lefs out of hu-
mour than you would imagine; and if it were not that
impertinent people would condole with me, as they
uſed to give me joy, I would value it lefs. But I ſtill
avoid company, and mufter up my baggage, and fend
thern next Monday by the carrier to Cheſter, and go fee
my willows, against the expectation of all the world.
"14th. I dined in the City to-day, and ordered a
lodging to be got ready for ine, againft I came to pack
up my things; for I will leave this end of the town as
foon as ever the warrants for the Deaneries are out,
which are yet ftopped. Lord Treafurer told Lewis
that it fhould be determined to-night; and fo he will
fay a hundred nights; fo he faid yeſterday, but I value ·
it not. My daily Journals fhall be but fhort, 'till I get
into the city, and then I will fend away this, and fol-
low it myſelf; I defign to walk it all the way to Che-
fter, my man and I, by ten miles a day. It will do my
health a great deal of good. I fhall do it in fourteen
days.
« 15th.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
133
rr
15th. Lord Bolingbroke made me dine with him
to-day (I was as good company as ever) and told me
the Queen would determine fomething for me to-night.
The difpute is WINDSOR, OF ST. PATRICK'S. I told him
I would not ſtay for their difputes, and he thought I
was in the right. Lord Maham told me, that Lady
Maſham is angry I have not been to fee her fince this
buſineſs, and defires I will come to-morrow.
"16th. I was this noon at Lady Mafham's, who
was juſt come from Kenfington, where her eldeſt fon
is fick. She faid much to me of what he had talked
to the Queen and Lord Treaſurer. The poor Lady fell
a fhedding tears openly. She could not bear to think of my
having St. Patrick's, &c. I was never more moved
than to fee fo much friendſhip. I would not ftay with
her, but went and dined with Dr. Arbuthnot, with Mr.
Berkeley, one of your Fellows, whom I have recom-
mended to the Doctor, &c. Mr. Lewis tells me, that
the Duke of Ormond has been to-day with the Queen,
and ſhe was content that Dr. Sterne fhould be Biſhop of
Dromore, and I Dean of St. Patrick's; but then out
came Lord Treaſurer, and faid, that he would not be fatif-
fied, but that I muſt be a Prebendary of Windfor. Thus
he perplexes things. I expect neither; but I confefs, as
much as I love England, I am fo angry at this treat-
ment, that, if I had my choice, I would rather have
St. Patrick's. Lady Mafham fays, fhe will fpeak to
the purpoſe to the Queen to-morrow.
r
17th. I went to dine at Lady Mafham's to-day,
and ſhe was taken ill of a fore throat, and is aguifh.
She ſpoke to the Queen laſt night, but had not much
time. The Queen fays, fhe will determine to-morrow
with Lord Treaſurer. The warrants for the Deaneries
are ſtill ſtopped, for fear I ſhould be gone. Do you
think any thing will be done? I don't care whether there
K 3
is
134
THE LIFE OF
1.
is or no.
In the mean time, I prepare for my journey,
and fee no great people, nor will fee Lord Treaſurer
any more, if I go. Lord Treaſurer told Mr. Lewis it
ſhould be done to-night, ſo he ſaid five nights ago.
18th. "This morning Mr Lewis fent me word,
that Lord Treaſurer told him the Queen would deter-
mine at noon. At three, Lord Treaſurer fent to me to
come to his lodgings at St. James's, and told me, the
Queen was at laft refolved that Dr. Sterne fhould be
Bishop of Dromore, and I, Dean of St. Patrick's, and
that Sterne's warrant fhould be drawn immediately.
You know the Deanery is in the Duke of Ormond's gift; but
this is concerted between the Queen, Lord Treafurer, and
Duke of Ormond, to make room for me. I do not know
whether it will yet be done, fome unlucky accident
may yet come. Neither can I feel joy at paſſing my
days in Ireland; and I confefs I thought the Miniftry would
not let me go; but perhaps they cannot help it.
19th. I forgot to tell you, that Lord Treaſurer
forced me to dine with him yeſterday, as ufual, with his
Saturday company, which I did, after frequent refuſals.
To day I dined with a private friend, and was not at
Court. After dinner, Mr. Lewis fent me word, that
the Queen ftayed 'till fhe knew whether the Duke of
Ormond approved of Sterne for a Biſhop. I went this
evening, and found the Duke of Ormond at the Cock-
pit, and told him, and defired he would go to the
Queen, and approve of Sterne. He made objections, and
defired I would name any other Deanery, for he did not
Jike Sterne; that Sterne never went to fee him; that he
was influenced by the Archbishop of Dublin, &c. fa
all is now broken again. I fent out for Lord Treafu-
rer, and told him this. He fays, all will do well; but
I value not what be fays. This fufpenfe vexes me worſe
than any thing elfe.
¶ 20th.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
135
He re-
20th. I went to-day, by appointment, to the
Cock-pit, to talk with the Duke of Ormond.
peated the fame propofals of any other Deanery, &c.
I defired he would put me out of the cafe, and do as
he pleaſed. Then, with great kindnefs, he faid he
would confent; but would do it for no man elfe but me,
&c. And fo perhaps fomething will come of it. I
can't tell.
"21ft.
The Duke of Ormond has told the Queen,
he is fatisfied Sterne fhould be Bifhop, and the confents
I ſhall be Deane; and I fuppofe warrants will be drawn
in a day or two. I dined at an ale-houfe with Parnell
and Berkeley; for I am not in a humour to go among
the Miniſters, though Lord Dartmouth invited me to
dine with him to-day, and Lord Treaſurer was to be
there. I faid I would, if I were out of fufpenfe.
"22d. The Queen fays, the warrants fhall be
drawn, but ſhe will difpofe of all in England and
Ireland at once, to be teafed no more. This will
delay it fome time, and while it is delayed, I am not
fure of the Queen, my enemies being busy. I hate this fuf-
penſe.
"23d. I dined yesterday with General Hamilton:
I forgot to tell you. I write fhort Journals now. I
have eggs on the fpit. This night the Queen has fign-
ed all the warrants, among which, Sterne is Biſhop of
Dromore; and the Duke of Ormond is to fend over an
order for making me Dean of St. Patrick's. I have no
doubt of him at all. I think 'tis now paft. But you
fee what a condition I am in. I thought I was to pay
but fix hundred pounds for the houſe, but the Biſhop
of Clogher fays eight hundred pounds; firft-fruits, a-
bout one hundred and fifty pounds Irish; and fo with
a patent, &c. a thousand pounds in all; fo that I fhall
not be the better for the Deanery theſe three years. I
hope,
K 4
135
THE LIFE OF
hope, in fome time, they will be perfuaded here to give
me ſome money to pay off theſe debts. I muſt finiſh
the book I am writing, before I can go over; and they
expect I shall pafs next winter here, and then I will
drive them to give me a fum of money, However, I
hope to paſs four or five months with you. I received
your's to-night; juft ten weeks fince I had your laft. I
fhall write next poft to Biſhop Sterne. Never man had
fo many enemies of Ireland as he. I carried it with the
ſtrongeſt hand poffible. If he does not ufe me well,
and gently, in what dealings I fhall have with him, he
will be the moft ungrateful of mankind. The Arch-
bishop of York, my mortal enemy, has fent, by a third band,
that be would be glad to fee me. Shall I fee him or not?
ſhall answer your rattle
*
I hope to be over in a month. I
foon; but no more Journals. I fhall be very buſy.
Short letters from henceforward. I fhall not part with
Laracor; that is all I have to live on, except the Dean-
ery be worth more than four hundred pounds a year
Is it? Pray write me a good humour'd letter immedi-
ately, let it be ever fo fhort. This affair was carried with
great difficulty, which vexes me. But they fay here, it
is much to my reputation, that I have made a Bishop,
in ſpite of all the world, and to get the best Deanery in Ire-
Land +.
“ 26th. I was at Court to-day, and a thouſand
people gave me joy; fo I ran out. I dined with Lord
Orkney. Yeſterday I dined with Lord Treaſurer, and
his Saturday people, as uſual; and was fo be-dean'd,
&c. The Archbishop of York ſays he will never more ſpeak
against me."
From an examination of this extract, we ſhall clearly
fee, that the great obftacle to Swift's preferment, was
* This Deanery was worth more than feven hundred.
+ The moft confiderable in point of rank, but not income.
the
DOCTOR SWIFT.
137
the prejudice conceived againſt him by the Queen, and
not any neglect or want of friendship in the Miniſtry.
He ſeems to have been himſelf of this opinion, where
he fays, upon finding that none of the Deaneries were
given to him, "I bid Mr. Lewis tell my Lord Trea-
furer, that I take nothing ill of him, but his not giving me
timely notice, as he promised to do, he found the Queen
would do nothing for me."
if
And afterwards, in the progrefs of this affair, he
expreffes his fufpicion more ftrongly in that point,
where he fays, "This will delay it fome time, and while
it is delayed, I am not fure of the Queen, my enemies be-
ing bufy. I hate this fufpenfe. It is evident alfo, that
the Lord Treaſurer, upon hearing Swift's declaration
to Mr. Lewis, was greatly alarmed, and began to beſtir
himſelf with all his might. The warrants for the
Deans were immediately ſtopped, to prevent Swift's de-
parting, as he threatened he would. And though the
affair was not carried on with that difpatch, which
Swift's impatience required, yet it is evident, the Trea-
furer was exerting his utmoft endeavours to accompliſh
the point for him in his own way. He was by no
means fatisfied that his friend fhould be fent to Ireland,
and was therefore uſing all his influence to get him a
Canonry of Windfor, which he knew alfo would be
much more agreeable to him. The affair of the Dean-
ery was eaſily ſettled, as we fee from the following paf-
fage in the Journal. "Mr. Lewis tells me, that the
Duke of Ormond has been to-day with the Queen, and
ſhe was content that Dr. Sterne fhould be Biſhop of
Dromore, and I, Dean of St. Patrick's, but then out
came Lord Treaſurer, and faid, he would not be fatif-
fied, but that I must be a Prebendary of Windfor.
Thus he perplexes things," &c. In the whole pro-
greſs of this affair, Swift ſpeaks peevishly of the Lord
Trea-
138
THE LIFE OF
Treafurer, and, with all the captioufnefs of a jealous
lover, who who will not come to an explanation. The
Treaſurer was really exerting all his endeavours to ferve
his friend, in the way which he knew would be moſt
agreeable to him; though, according to his uſual re-
ferve, he did not care to inform him of the difficulties.
in his way.
And Swift, who was too proud to enquire
into this, fufpected him either of want of zeal, or in-
dulging his ufual procraftination, which is obvious,
from all the expreffions relative to him in the above
quotations. But the truth of the whole matter appears
to be this. The Queen was willing enough that Swift
fhould have a moderate provifion made for him in Ire-
land, in order to fend him into baniſhment, in a de-
cent, though not very honourable manner. And the
Miniſter, on the other hand, wanted to keep him with
him at all events. We find, with regard to the Wind-
for promotion, the Queen continued inflexible, not only
against the folicitations of the Treaſurer, but of Lady
Maſham, who was her neareſt favourite, after the Du-
chefs of Somerfet. How zealous that Lady was in his
cauſe, may be ſeen in a paffage of the above quotation,
where, fpeaking of her, he fays, "She faid much to
me of what ſhe had talked to the Queen, and Lord
Treaſurer. The poor Lady fell a fhedding of tears openly.
She could not bear to think of my having St. Patrick's," &c.
We find afterwards, when the Lord Treaſurer ſaw
that the Queen was obftinate with regard to this point,
there was another bar thrown in the way of Swift's pro-
motion in Ireland, probably contrived between him
and the Duke of Ormond; which was, that the Duke
fhould demur against Sterne's being made a Biſhop;
nor can this change in the Duke of Ormond, when he
had before confented to Sterne's promotion, be ration-
ally accounted for in any other way. This probably
was
J
139
DOCTOR SWIFT.
was the Treaſurer's laſt effort, to oblige the Queen to
do fomething for Swift in England; but when Swift
himſelf continued refolute in the other point, probably
on a fufpicion, that the Queen could not be wrought
upon to prefer him in England, and urged the Duke of
Ormond to the accomplishment of it, and upon his de-
murring, expreffed himſelf refentfully; the Duke, who
loved Swift fincerely, could ftand it no longer, but as
Swift mentions in the Journal, "with great kindneſs,
he ſaid he would confent, but would do it for no man
elfe but me," &c.
But there is one circumftance in this tranfaction, that
feems very unaccountable; which is, that Swift was not
immediately made Biſhop of Clogher, inftead of Dean
of St. Patrick's. We do not find, that Dr. Sterne had
one friend in the world to recommend him, but Swift
himſelf. On the contrary, we fee he was obnoxious to
the Miniſtry, but particularly fo to the Duke of Or-
mond, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, who was
chiefly to be confulted in the diſpoſal of preferments
there. When it comes to the puſh, the only objection
the Duke offers to Swift's getting St. Patrick's, is his
diflike of Sterne, and the reluctance he fhews at his be-
ing promoted to a Bishoprick. Now, was not this dif-
ficulty eaſily ſmoothed away, by making Swift at once
Biſhop of Clogher? And would not the Miniſtry have
been all much better pleaſed to place him in that See,
than a man who was at beſt indifferent to them, but
certainly obnoxious to fome, and thofe the principal
among them? It may therefore be furmifed, that this
was a point not attempted, becauſe they were fure the
Queen would never confent to make him a Biſhop,
while her diſpleaſure continued fo high against him,
though ſhe was willing to fend him into exile, in ſo mo-
derate a ftation, as that of Dean, even at the expence
3
of
140
THE LIFE OF
of promoting a man of no weight or confideration, to
a higher ſtation, to make room for him. And the Mi-
niftry certainly fhewed the greateſt readiness to gratify
him in any thing which he fhould defire, when they
confented to the promotion of a man, whom they dif
liked, to make room for his preferment, in a way alſo
which they did not approve of, merely becauſe he made
a point of it. So that, however fmall a recompenſe
the Deanery itſelf might have been confidered for Swift's
fervices, yet as there was a Bifhoprick beftowed at the
fame time, purely to make way for this, and to be char-
ged wholly to his account, the Miniftry certainly cannot
be taxed with a want of a due fenfe of his merits, and
a fuitable defire of rewarding them. And however out
of humour he might be, where he ſays, "This affair
was carried with great difficulty, which vexes me."
Yet he very juftly adds, "But they fay here, it is much
to my reputation, that I have made a Biſhop in ſpite of
all the world, and to get the beſt Deanery in Ireland.”
He afterwards fhews how entirely this was his work,
againſt all oppofition, where he fays, "I fhall write
next poſt to Biſhop Sterne. Never man had ſo many
enemies of Ireland as he; I carried it with the ſtrongeſt
hand poffible. If he does not ufe me well, and gently,
in what dealings 1 fhall have with him, he will be the
moft ungrateful of mankind."
In his whole account of this tranfaction, which exhi-
bits a lively picture of his ftate of mind to the mo-
ment, he ſeems to have been much under the influence
of humour. Though he was confcious that the Queen
herſelf was the chief bar to his promotion, yet he ſpeaks
as peevishly of the Treaſurer, as if the fole blame lay
with him. At one time he ſeems earneſt about obtain-
ing St. Patrick's, and is angry with the Treaſurer for
putting any rub in the way, though in favour of ano-
ther
DOCTOR SWIFT.
141
ther meafure, which would certainly have pleafed him
more. When he mentions the Queen's having con-
fented to Swift's arrangement of the Bishoprick and
Deanery, he adds, much out of humour, "but then
out came Lord Treaſurer, and faid he would not be fa-
tisfied, but that I must be a Prebendary of Windfor.
Thus he perplexes things. I expect neither; but I con-
fefs as much as I love England, I am fo angry at this
treatment, that, if I had my choice, I would rather
have St. Patrick's." And yet in his Journal of the 18th,
the day but one after this, when he learns from the
the
Treaſurer, that the Queen was at laſt reſolved upon
arrangement propofed, he fays,
"Neither can I feel joy
at paffing my days in Ireland, and I confefs I thought
the Miniſtry would not let me go; but perhaps they can-
not help it." How contrary is this to his former decla-
ration! But in the whole of this affair, Swift feems to
have been deſerted by his uſual firmneſs of mind, and
to have acted with the frowardnefs of a humourfome
child, who either does not know his own mind, or will
not tell it; and yet expects that others fhould find it
out, and do what he wants.
Another reafon for his not defiring to procure the
Bishoprick for himſelf, might perhaps ariſe from his
fuppofing that this might be confidered as a full equi-
valent for his fervices, and the ne plus ultra of his pre-
ferment, to the exclufion of all future profpects in Eng-
land, where all his wishes centered. But I am perfua-
ded, that the chief motive to his extraordinary conduct
on this occafion, and his fo pertinaciously adhering to
that particular mode, and no other, of providing for
him, in oppofition to the defire of his beſt friends, and
particularly of the Duke of Ormond, was, that he had
promiſed to make Sterne a Bifhop the first opportunity.
As he was remarkably tenacious of his word, he was
determined
142
THE LIFE OF
determined to keep it on this occafion, though he
feems, by fome expreffions, not to have looked upon
Sterne as his friend, but rather to have refentment
againſt him, on account of fome ill treatment received
at his hands *. In his Journal to Stella, October 28,
1712, he fays, "I had a letter to-day from Dr. Cog-
hill, defiring me to get Raphoe for Dean Sterne, and
the Deanery for myſelf. I ſhall indeed, I have fuch obli-
gations to Sterne. But, however, if I am afked who will
make a good Biſhop, I ſhall name him before any
body."
In the February following, he fays, in the fame
Journal, "I did not write to Dr. Coghill, that I would
have nothing in Ireland, but that I was foliciting no-
thing any where, and this is true. I have named Dr.
Sterne to Lord Treaſurer, Lord Bolingbroke, and the
Duke of Ormond, for a Bishoprick, and I did it
heartily. I know not what will come of it; but I tell
you, as a great fecret, that I have made the Duke of
Ormond promife me to recommend no body till he
tells me, and this for fome reafons, too long to men-
tion."
* The cauſe of his refentment is thus fet forth, in a letter to Sterne,
then Bishop of Clogher, dated July 1733. "When I first came ac-
quainted with you, we were both private Clergymen in a neighbour◄
hood you were afterwards Chancellor of St. Patrick's, then was cho-
fen Dean; in which election, I was the moſt buſy of all your ſolicitors.
When the compromiſe was made between the government and you, to
make you eaſy, and Dr. Syuge Chancellor, you abfolutely and fre-
quently promiſed to give me the + Curacy of St. Nicholas Without:
you thought fit, by concert with the Archbishop, to hold it yourſelf,
and apply the revenue to build another Church. Upon the Queen's
death, when I had done for ever with Courts, I returned to refide at
my poſt, yet with ſome kind of hopes of getting fome credit with you,
very unwiſely; becauſe, upon the affair of St. Nicholas, I had told
you frankly, That I would always refpect you, but never hope for
the leaft friendſhip from you."
+ Though this be called a Curacy, yet it is in reality a living of
confiderable value,
While
DOCTOR SWIFT.
143
While the matter was in agitation, he thus writes to
Stella, on the 7th of the March following. "I write
by this post to the Dean, but it is not above two lines,
and one incloſed to you is not above three lines; and
in that, one inclofed to the Dean, which he muſt not
have, but on condition of burning it immediately after
reading, and that before your eyes; for there are ſome
things in it I would not have liable to accidents. You
fhall only know in general, that it is an account of
what I have done to ferve him, in his pretenfions on
thefe vacancies, &c. but he must not know, that you
know fo much."
It is evident, from fome of the above quotations,
that Swift was far from having any cordial regard for
Sterne, and that he had thought himſelf, on ſome oc-
cafions, to have been ill treated by him. Nothing
therefore can, in my opinion, account for his obftinate
perfeverance in making him a Biſhop, in ſpite of all
the world, as he himfelf expreffes it, but the facred-
nefs of an engagement.
Whatever ill opinion Swift had formed of Sterne be-
fore, was thoroughly confirmed by his very ungrateful
behaviour to him, immediately after he had made him
a Biſhop. In his Journal of May 16, he writes thus,
"Your new Biſhop acts very ungratefully. I cannot
fay fo bad of him as he deſerves. I begged, by the
fame poft his warrant and mine went over, that he
would leave thofe livings to my difpofal. I fhall write
this poſt to him, to let him know how ill I take it *.
*Swift had afterwards caufe to complain farther of his ingratitude,
where he fays to him in a letter, dated 1733. "But trying to forget.
all former treatments, I came, like others, to your houſe, and fince
you were a Bishop, have once or twice recommended perfons to you,
who were no relations or friends of mine, but merely for their gene-
ral good character; which availed fo little, that thofe very perfons had
the greatest share of your neglect."
SECTION
144
f
THE LIFE OF
15
SECTION IV.
AS the brightest and most important part of Swift's
life paffed during the four laft years of Queen Anne,
when his faculties were all in full vigour, and occa-
fions for difplaying them arofe adequate to their great-
nefs; I fhall omit no circumftance which may ferve to
delineate the features and limbs of his mind, (if I may
be allowed the expreffion) before difeafe and age had
impaired the bloom of the one, and the ſtrength and
agility of the other. To have a perfect portrait and
juſt likeneſs of a friend, had we our choice of time,
we ſhould certainly prefer that period of his life, when
he was in his prime, to that of his decay. There have
been already given many inftances of fuch a nobleneſs
of mind, fuch a difinterefted fpirit in Swift, as are
rarely to be found in the annals of hiftory. Yet the
part which he acted by his friend Oxford, about the
time of the Queen's death, exhibits thofe qualities in a
higher point of view than ever they had appeared in
before. It has been already mentioned, that, finding
all his endeavours to reconcile his great friends uſeleſs,
he had retired to Letcomb, in order to make one ef-
fort more to compel them to unite for their common
intereſt, by the publication of his "Free Thoughts,"
&c. Lord Bolingbroke, to whom this Piece was
ſhewn by Barber, contrived to have the printing of it
deferred, as he was then juft upon the point of accom-
pliſhing his long concerted plan, of turning out Lord
Oxford, and ſtepping into his place. This was effect-
ed juſt four days before the Queen's death, on the 27th
of July, 1714. One of Lord Bolingbroke's firft ob-
jects, upon getting into power, was to fecure Swift to
his
DOCTOR SWIFT.
145
his intereft. He got Lady Mafham to write to him, in
the moſt preffing terms, on the 29th, to return imme-
diately to town. And on the 30th, he meant to dif
patch Barber to him, with letters from himſelf and Lady
Maſham for the fame purpofe. Which is thus related
by Barber, in his letter of July 31, paft fix at night.
"I am heartily forry I fhould be the meffenger of fo ill
news, as to tell you the Queen is dead or dying: if
alive, 'tis faid fhe can't live till morning. You may
eafily imagine the confufion we are all in on this fad
occafion. I had fet out yesterday to wait on you, but
for this fad accident; and fhould have brought letters.
from Lord Bolingbroke, and Lady Mafham, to have
prevented your going. He faid twenty things in your
favour, and commanded me to bring you up, whatever
was the confequence." It was chiefly through the in-
fluence of Lady Mafham, who was then at the height
of favour with the Queen, and had openly quarrelled
with the Treaſurer, that he was turned out of his em-
ployment, and Bolingbroke appointed Minifter in his
room. Nothing can fhew, in a ftronger light, the
great confequence of Swift in all ftate-affairs at that
time, than Lady Mafham's letter to him on this occa-
fion. Which, on that account, I fhail here prefent en-
tire to the reader.
Lady MASHAM to Dr. SWIFT.
My good friend,
July 29, 1714.
"I OWN it looks unkind in me, not to thank you
all this time, for your fincere kind letter; but I was re-
folved to ſtay 'till I could tell you, the Queen had fo
far got the better of the * Dragon, as to take her
power out of his hands. He has been the moſt un-
* A nick-name for Lord Oxford.
L
grateful
146
THE LIFE OF
grateful man to her, and to all his best friends, that
ever was born. I cannot have fo much time now to
write all my mind, becauſe my dear Miſtreſs is not
well; and I think I may lay her illneſs to the charge of
the Treaſurer, who, for three weeks together, was tea-
fing and vexing her without intermiffion, and fhe could.
not get rid of him till Tueſday laſt. I muſt put you
in mind of one paffage in your letter to me, which is,
I pray God to fend you wife and faithful friends to advife
you at this time, when there are so great difficulties to
Struggle with. That is very plain and true; therefore
will you, who have gone through fo much, and taken
more pains than any body, and given wife advice (if
that wretched man had had ſenſe enough, and honeſty
to have taken it) I fay, will you leave us, and go into
Ireland? No, it is impoffible; your goodneſs is ftill the
fame, your charity and compaffion for this poor* Lady,
who has been barbarouſly uſed, won't let you do it. I
know you take delight to help the diftreffed; and there
cannot be a greater object than this good Lady, who
deſerves pity. Pray, dear friend, ftay here, and don't
believe us all alike, to throw away good advice, and
deſpiſe every body's underſtanding but their own. I
could fay a great deal upon the fubject, but I must go
to her, for fhe is not well. This comes to you by a
fafe hand, fo that neither of us need be in any pain
about it.
cc
My Lord and brother are in the country. My fifter
and girls are at your fervice."
So warm and preffing a letter, from one who made,
and unmade Minifters, (for it was to her Lord Oxford
owed his advancement, as well as his difgrace) intreating,
nay, in a manner imploring him to come and be their chief
Counſellor and Director, in their new plan of Admini-
* The Queen.
ſtration;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
147
ftration; might have opened the most inviting pro-
ſpects to Swift, of gratifying his utmoſt ambition with
regard to his own interefts; and at the fame time, of
accompliſhing the plan which he had invariably pur-
fued, with reſpect to thofe of the public. But to a man
of his delicate fenfe of honour, there was an infuper-
able bar in the way to prevent his embracing fo flatter-
ing an offer. He had two days before received the fol-
lowing letter from Lord Oxford, upon his loſing the
Staff.
The Earl of OXFORD to Dr. SWIFT.
"IF I tell my dear friend the value I put upon his
undeferved friendſhip, it will look like fufpecting you
or myſelf. Though I have had no power fince the
twenty-fifth of July 1713, I believe now, as a private
man, I may prevail to renew your licence of abſence,
conditionally you will be preſent with me; for to-mor-
row morning I ſhall be a private perfon. When I have
fettled my domeftic affairs here, I go to Wimple;
thence, alone, to Herefordshire. If I have not tired
you tête a tête, fling away fo much time upon one, who
loves you. And I believe, in the mafs of fouls, ours
were placed near each other. I fend you an imitation
of Dryden, as I went to Kenſington.
To ferve with love,
And ſhed your blood,
Approv'd is above:
But here below,
Th' examples fhew,
'Tis fatal to be good.
In theſe two letters, there were two roads opened to
Swift. One, leading to preferment, power, and all that
L 2
his
148
THE LIFE OF
his moſt ambitious hopes could aſpire after. The other,
to the melancholy cell of a difgraced Minifter, aban-
doned by an ungrateful world. Where he might have
the fatisfaction of affording him in his diftrefs, that ſo-
vereign balm of confolation, which can only be admi-
niſtered by a fincere friend. Swift heſitated not a mo-
ment in his choice of the alternative, as may be feen by
his letter to Mifs Vanhomrigh, written foon after his
receipt of the other two.
Dr. SWIFT to Mifs VANHOMRIGH.
"Who told you I was going to Bath? No fuch thing.
But poor Lord Oxford defires I will go with him to
Herefordshire; and I only expect his anfwer, whether
I fhall go there before, or meet him hereabouts, or go
to Wimple, (his fon's houſe) and fo with him down:
and I expect to leave this place in two or three days,
one way or other. I will ſtay with him 'till the Parlia-
ment meets again, if he defires it. I am written to
earneſtly by fomebody, to come to town, and join with
thoſe people now in power; but I will not do it. Say
nothing of this, but guefs the perfon. I told Lord
Oxford I would go with him when he was out; and now
he begs it of me, I cannot refufe him. I meddle not
with his faults, as he was Miniſter of State; but
but you
know his perfonal kindneſs to me was exceffive. He
diftinguiſhed and chofe me, above all other men, while
he was great, and his letter to me, the other day, was
the moſt moving imaginable," &c. *
""
There
* This refolution of Swift's is fully confirmed in a letter to Arch-
deacon Wall, dated Auguft 8, 1714. Upon the Earl of Oxford's.
removal, he defired I would go with him into Herefordfhire, which I
confented to, and wrote you word of it, defiring you would renew my
licence of abfence at the end of this month, for I think it then ex-
pires.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
149
There is one expreffion in Lord Oxford's letter, which
is indeed very affecting, where he fays, "I go to
Wimple, thence alone to Herefordshire." What! this
great Miniſter, who had conferred fo many obligations,
and made the fortunes of fuch numbers, not to find one
companion to attend him in his reverfe of fortune! Me-
thinks I fee Swift reading this paffage, and exclaiming,
"What, alone! No, while I exift, my friend ſhall not
go alone into Herefordshire."
This conduct was the more noble in Swift, as during
the whole courfe of their intimacy, he never received
one perſonal favour from the Minifter, though treated
with the moſt unreſerved kindnels by the man. Nay,
whether it were owing to his procraftinating temper,
or, as Swift calls it in another place, his unmeafurable
public thrift, he had neglected to procure for him an
order for a thousand pound on the Treafury, to pay the
debt contracted by him upon his introduction to the
Deanery, which was all the reward Swift ever afked for
his fervices t. And there is reaſon to believe, from a
paffage in a letter of Dr. Arbuthnot to him, dated July
14, that Swift was diftreffed for money at that time, on
pires. I had earneft invitations from thofe in power to go to town,
and affift them in their new Miniſtry, which I reſolved to excufe; but
before I could write, news came of the Queen's death, and all our
fchemes broke to fhatters."
+ Nothing can fhew more the ftrong defire which Lord Bolingbroke
had to attach Swift to his intereft upon his getting into power, than
his taking care, during his fhort Miniftry of three days only, to have
an order figned by the Queen on the Treafury, to pay that fum to
Swift, though by her fudden death he reaped no advantage from it.
It appears, that Swift had this order in his poffeffion when he visited
London in the year 1726; for he fays, in a letter to Dr. Sheridan,
Tell the Archdeacon that I never asked for my thousand pounds,
which he hears I have got, though I mentioned it to the Princeſs the
last time I faw her; but I bid her tell Walpole, I fcorned to ask him
for it."
I 3
account
*
150
LIFE OF
THE
it
account of that neglect. The paffage is this, "Do not
think I make you a bare compliment in what I am go-
ing to fay, for I can affure you I am in earneſt. I am
in hopes to have two hundred pounds before I go out
of town, and you may command all, or any part of
you pleaſe, as long as you have occafion for it." And
in the fame letter it appears, that the Doctor had been
defired by Swift to apply to Lord Bolingbroke for fifty
pounds due to him from that Lord, where he fays, "As
to the fifty pounds, he (Lord Bolingbroke) was ready
to pay it, and if he had had it about him, would have
given it to me." But it is highly probable, from the
great delicacy of Swift's fentiments, that this very cir-
cumſtance of his lying under no obligation to Lord
Oxford, was what rendered his attachment to him the
ſtronger, as it muſt proceed wholly from pure difinte-
refted friendſhip. That this was his way of thinking,
may be ſeen from feveral of his letters. In that of
July 1, 1714, on his retiring to Letcombe, he thus
expreffes himſelf.
To Lord TREASURER OXFORD.
My Lord,
WHEN I was with you, I have faid more than once,
that I would never allow quality or ftation made any
real difference between men. Being now abfent and
forgotten, I have changed my mind: you have a thou-
fand people who can pretend they love you, with as
much appearance of fincerity as I; fo that, according
to common juftice, I can have but a thoufandth part in
return of what I give. And this difference is wholly
owing to your ftation. And the misfortune is ftill the
greater, becauſe I loved you fo much the lefs for your
ſtation; for, in your public capacity, you have often
angered
DOCTOR SWIFT.
once.
angered me to the heart; but as a private man, never
So that, if I only look towards myfelf, I could
wish you a private man to-morrow: for I have nothing
to afk; at least nothing that you will give, which is
the fame thing: and then you would fee, whether I
fhould not with much more willingness attend you in a re-
tirement, whenever you pleaſe to give me leave, than
ever I did at London or Windfor t. From thefe fen-
timents, I will never write to you, if I can help it,
otherwiſe than as to a private man, or allow myſelf to
have been obliged by you in any other capacity, &c.
And in one, many years after, dated October 11,
1722, expoftulating with him in a friendly manner on
his long filence, he fays, "I never courted your ac-
quaintance when you governed Europe, but you court-
ed mine; and now you neglect me, when I ufe all my
infinuations to keep myſelf in your memory. I am very
ſenſible, that next to your receiving thanks and com-
pliments, there is nothing you more hate than writing
letters: but fince I never gave you thanks, nor made
you compliments, I have fo much more merit than any
* In the ſeveral accounts given of Lord Oxford by Swift in different
parts of his writing, there feems to be fomething contradictory; as
in fome places he extols him to the fkies, and in others, imputes great
weakneſs and faults to him. But this arifes from the view he gives of
him in two different characters. As a public Miniſter, he repreſents
him to have been one of the wifeft, the ableft, and the most difintereſted
that ever lived; and he confirms this character by enumerating the
many great fervices he had done to the ftate, without reaping the
leaft advantage to himſelf, but rather injuring his private fortune. At
the fame time he fhews that he was utterly unqual fied to be the Leader
of a party, or to manage the private intrigues of a Court; in which
refpects, partly from his natural difpofition, and partly through want
of true policy, he committed numberless errors; to which Swift alludes
here, where he ſays, "In your public capacity you have often angered
me to the heart; but as a private man, never once.'
+ Lord Oxford had too foon reaſon to put this declaration of Swift's
to the teſt, and found it nobly anſwered,
L 4
of
152
THE LIFE OF
of thofe thouſands, whom you have lefs obliged, by
only making their fortunes, without taking them into
your friendſhip, as you did me; whom you always
countenanced in too public and particular a manner, to
be forgotten either by the world or myfelf." The me-
rit of Swift, in thus adhering to his friend at this junc-
ture, was the more extraordinary, becauſe he not only
facrificed to it all regard to his own intereft, but that
of the public alfo. It appears, that the Queen in the
laft fix months of her life, had changed her whole fyftem
with regard to parties, and came entirely round to that,
which had been the great object of all Swift's politicks,
by making a general fweep of the Whigs from all their
employments, both Civil and Military and the only
obftacles thrown in the way were by Lord Oxford; who
from private motives of his own, fet forth by Swift at
large in his Enquiry, &c. refufed to fall into the
meaſure; and notwithstanding every effort ufed by
Swift, continued inflexible in his refolution. He might
therefore have had the ftrongest plea, from motives of
a fuperior nature, his duty to the publick, for deferting
him on this occafion, and joining all his other friends
in promoting his favourite plan, fo effentially neceffary
to the fupport of the common caufe. Nor could he
have been liable to the leaft cenfure, or reproach for
fuch conduct. But his high notions of friendship, and
delicate fenfe of honour, out-weighed all other confi-
derations, and would not let him hefitate a moment
what part he ſhould take.
It appears, in the courfe of the Journal, that there
grew up between the Lord Treaſurer and Swift, a mu-
tual friendſhip of the most cordial and pureft kind. He
mentions dining with him, fometimes four, fometimes
five and fix days together; and if he chanced to abſent
* Vid. Enquiry into the behaviour of the Queen's laft Miniſters.
himſelf
DOCTOR SWIFT.
153
himſelf two fucceffive days, he was fure of a friendly chi-
ding for it. He ſeems to have been adopted into the
Harley family, and confidered on the footing of a near
relation. As an inftance of this, he ſays, in his Journal
of March 1713, "I have now dined fix days fucceffively
with Lord Treaſurer. He had invited a good many of
his relations; and, of a dozen at table, they were all of
the Harley family but myfelf." He was of all his pri-
vate parties, and conftantly accompanied him in his vifits
to Windfor. In fhort, Lord Oxford never ſeemed to
have any enjoyment in which he was not a partaker.
When we confider, that he had found in one and the
fame man, the clearest and ableft head to give advice;
the most open and candid heart in communicating his
fentiments upon all occafions, without the fmalleſt ſelfiſh
view, joined to the most uncommon talents to fupport
his interefts, and the moft ardent zeal to promote them,
we need not wonder that the Minifter fhould ufe his best
endeavours to attach fuch a man clofely to him. But
when in the fame perfon he found the most delightful
companion, poffeffed of an inexhauftible fund of the moſt
original vein of wit and humour, for which he had a per-
fect relifh; and who could at times defcend to the baga-
telle, and all the fportive plays of fancy, in the unre-
ftrained hour of focial mirth and good humour, of which
it
appears Lord Oxford was equally fond; we need not
wonder that an old Courtier, hackneyed in the ways of
men, who perhaps had never found any of theſe qualities,
in an equal degree, in any other mortal, fhould take him
to his bofom, and at once beftow his whole ſtock of
friendſhip upon a ſubject fo worthy of it. And indeed
it does not appear, that out of his own family, there was
any other perfon to whom he fhewed much attachment,
or whofe friendſhip he cultivated to any great degree.
This circumftance Swift has touched upon in drawing
his
$54
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his character, and confiders it as a blameless part of it,
where he ſays, "It may be likewife faid of him, that he
certainly did not value, or did not underſtand the art of
acquiring friends; having made very few during the time
of his power, and contracted a great number of ene-
mies."
On the other hand, Lord Oxford, in his private capa-
city, feems to have poffeffed a great number of qualities,
which were the moſt likely to endear him to Swift, and
fecure him the first place in his friendship. By whom
he is reprefented as a perfon of great virtue, abounding
in good nature and good humour. As a great favourer
of men of wit and learning, particularly the former,
whom he careffed, without diftinction of party, and could
not endure to think that any of them ſhould be his ene-
mies. He fays farther of him, "He had the greateſt
variety of knowledge that I have any where met; was a
perfect maſter of the learned languages, and well ſkilled
in divinity. He had a prodigious memory, and a moſt
exact judgment. He was utterly a ftranger to fear, and
confequently had a prefence of mind upon all emergen-
cies. His liberality, and contempt of money, were fuch,
that he almoſt ruined his eftate while he was in employ-
ment; yet his avarice for the publick was fo great, that
it neither confifted with the prefent corruptions of the
age, nor the circumſtances of the time. He was affable
and courteous, extremely eafy and agreeable in converfa-
tion, and altogether difengaged; regular in his life, with
great appearance of piety; nor ever guilty of any expref-
fions, which could poffibly tend to what was indecent or
prophane." Such a character, even in private life, could
not fail of attracting Swift's regard; but when theſe qua-
lities, fo congenial with his own, were found united in a
man of the higheſt ſtation in this country, and one of the
moſt confiderable perfonages of his time in the eyes of all
Europe;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
155
Europe; when fuch a man, contrary to the uſual bent of
his nature, eagerly embraced every opportunity of ingra-
tiating himſelf with Swift, and foliciting his friendſhip
upon his own terms, that of a perfect equality; it is no
wonder if theſe rare qualities were much enhanced in their
value by ſuch circumſtances: or that Swift, after repeated
proofs of his fincerity, fhould make him a fuitable return,
and give him the firſt place in his friendſhip *. But
though he juſtly ſtood the foremoſt in this rank, yet were
there many others who fhared it with him in different pro-
portions. The large heart of Swift had an inexhauſtible
fund of benevolence, to be apportioned out to the fe-
veral claimants according to their feveral degrees of me-
rit. Among thofe who vied with Lord Oxford for the
poffeffion of his friendſhip, no one feems to have been
more affiduous, than the fecond man in the flate,
though perhaps, in point of abilities, the firft in Europe,
Lord Bolingbroke. But though Swift held his talents in
the higheſt admiration, and made fuitable returns for all
his perfonal kindneſs and attention to him, yet he never
ſeems to have had that cordial regard for him that he
fhewed for Lord Oxford. The excellence of whofe mo-
ral character, eſtabliſhed that confidence in him, which
is fo neceffary to a firm friendship; while a notorious de-
ficiency in the other, with regard to fome points, created
a doubt of his principles with refpect to all. And fymp-
toms of this doubt have broken out from Swift more than
on one occafion, with regard to his fincerity, though
* That this was the cafe, may be feen by a paffage in a letter of
Swift's to Lord Oxford, the fon, many years after the Treaſurer's
death, dated June 1737, where he fays, "I loved my Lord, your
father, better than any other man in the world; although I had no
obligation to him on the ſcore of preferment, having been driven to
this wretched kingdom, to which I was almoſt a ſtranger, by his
want of power to keep me, in what I ought to call my own country,
although I happened to be dropt here, and was a year old before I
left it,"
20
there
156
OF
THE LIFE
there are good reaſons to believe his fufpicions were un-
just, as his attachment to him continued equally ftrong
to the very laſt, and his friendſhip for him glows with
uncommon ardour throughout his whole epiftolary correſ
pondence, in the decline of life, when there could have
been no uſe for diffimulation. The zeal which he fhewed
for Swift's ſervice, may be eſtimated by the following
66
note which he fent him, at the time that the affair of his
promotion was depending. Though I have not feen
you, I did not fail to write to Lord Treaſurer. Non tua
res agitur *, dear Jonathan; it is the Treafurer's cauſe;
it is my cauſe; 'tis every man's caufe, who is imbarked
on our bottom. Depend upon it, that I will never neg-
lect any opportunity of fhewing that true efteem, that
fincere affection, and honeft friendſhip for you, which
fills the breaſt of your faithful fervant, BOLINGBROKE.
""
But the light in which he confidered Lord Boling-
broke, will beſt appear from his own account of him, in
a Piece written in the year 1715, entitled,
"An Enquiry
into the Behaviour of the Queen's laft Miniftry," &c,
"It happens to very few men, in any age or country, to
come into the world with fo many advantages of nature
and fortune, as the late Secretary Bolingbroke: defcend-
ed from the beſt families in England, heir to a great pa-
trimonial eftate, of a found conftitution, and a moft
graceful, amiable perfon. But all thefe, had they been
of equal value, were infinitely inferior in degree to the
accompliſhments of his mind, which was adorned with
the choiceft gifts, that God hath yet thought fit to be-
ftow on the children of men: a ftrong, memory, a clear
judgment, a vaft range of wit and fancy, a thorough
comprehenfion, an invincible eloquence, with a moſt a-
greeable elocution. He had well cultivated all thefe ta-
lents by travel and ftudy; the latter of which he feldom
It is not your affair that is in agitation.
omitted,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
157
omitted, even in the midft of his pleafures, of which he had
indeed been too great and criminal a purfuer. For, altho
he was perfuaded to leave off intemperance in wine, which
he did for fome time to fuch a degree, that he ſeemed
rather abftemious; yet he was faid to allow himſelf other
liberties, which can by no means be reconciled to religion
or morals, whereof, I have reaſon to believe, he began
to be fenfible. But he was fond of mixing pleaſure and
buſineſs, and of being eſteemed excellent at both; upon
which account he had a great refpect for the characters of
Alcibiades and Petronius, especially the latter, whom he
would be gladly thought to refemble."*
But an Alcibiades, or a Petronius, was not likely to
be the bofom friend of a Swift, however he might admire
his talents, or delight in his fociety, as a companion.
In his political character indeed, Swift was very cloſely
connected with him, as Lord Bolingbroke adopted all
his ideas, and ſtrenuouſly ſupported the meaſures he pro-
poſed and that they were not purfued, Swift lays the
whole blame, in many places, on his friend Oxford, en-
tirely acquitting Lord Bolingbroke of being in the wrong,
in any of the differences fubfifting between them on that
fcore. In his first letter to Lord Bolingbroke, after the
Queen's death, dated August 7, 1714, he fays, "I will
ſwear for no man's fincerity, much leſs that of a Miniſter
of State: but thus much I have faid, wherever it was pro
* The fame character is given of him, in a more compendious way,
in his Journal, November, 3, 1711. "I think Mr. Secretary St. John
the greateſt young man I ever knew: wit, capacity, beauty, quick-
nefs of apprchenfion, good learning, and an excellent tafte; the beft
orator in the Houfe of Commons, admirable converfation, good na-
ture, and good manners; generous, and a defpifer of money. His
only fault is, talking to his friends in way of complaint of too great
load of buſineſs, which looks a little like affectation; and he endea-
vours too much to mix the fine gentleman, and the man of pleaſure,
with the man of bufinefs. What truth and fincerity he may have, I know
not.”
per,
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per, that
that your Lordship's propoſals were always the faireft
in the world, and I faithfully delivered them as I was
empowered and although I am no very ſkilful man at
intrigue, yet I durft forfeit my head, that if the cafe were
mine, I could either have agreed with you, or put you
dans votre tort*.
We have already feen in his Pamphlet of Free Thoughts,
&c. intended to be publifhed before the death of the
Queen, that he throws the whole blame of the defperate
ftate to which affairs were brought at that time, on the
Lord Treaſurer.
After Lord Oxford, the perfons among the Great, who
feemed to have had the principal fhare of his affection,
were Lord Peterborough, and the Duke of Ormond, to
which he had the ampleft returns from both. Of the
great degree of mutual friendſhip which fubfifted between
the former and him, among many other proofs, the fol-
lowing ſhort abſtract from his Journal, affords a ftriking
inſtance.
January 10, 1712-13,
"At feven this evening, as we
fat after dinner at Lord Treaſurer's, a ſervant faid, Lord
Peterborough was at the door. Lord Treaſurer and
Lord Bolingbroke went out to meet him, and brought
him in. He was just returned from abroad, where he
has been above a year. As foon as he ſaw me, he left
the Duke of Ormond, and other Lords, and ran and
kiffed me before he ſpoke to them; but chid me terribly
for not writing to him, which I never did this laſt time
he was abroad, not knowing where he was; and he
changed places fo often, it was impoffible a letter fhould
overtake him. I do love the hang-dog dearly." The
circumftance of Lord Peterborough's breaking from the
Duke of Ormond, and the other Lords, to embrace
Swift firft, fhews the warmth of his affection, which
* In the wrong.
could
DOCTOR SWIFT.
159
could make him forget all rules of decorum on the occa-
fion; and Swift's homely expreffion of "loving the hang-
dog dearly," fhews more clearly, than the choiceft phraſes
could, that fondneſs in friendſhip, which nothing but the
moft intimate familiarity can excite *.
As to the Duke of Ormond, he always fpeaks of him
with that tendernefs, which only the warmest affcction
can inſpire; and it appears, that he was equally beloved
by the Duke, and had more influence with him than any
man living. Befide thefe, he lived in the greateft inti-
macy with almoſt all the diftinguiſhed men of rank at
that time; among which number were, the Duke of Ha-
milton, Lord Keeper Harcourt, Lord Pembroke, Lord
Rivers, Lord Bathurst, Lord Carteret, Lord Lansdown,
Sir Thomas Hanmer (Speaker), Sir William Wyndham,
and many others. Nor were his friendſhips confined only
to the Great, all men of genius he looked upon, and
treated as his brethren. Of this number, were Addiſon,
Congreve, Arbuthnot, Prior, Pope, Gay, Parnell, Garth,
Berkeley, and others of inferior note. To promote whofe
intereſts, he chiefly uſed the influence he had with the
Great, to the utter neglect of his own, and to raiſe whoſe
character and reputation in the world, he uſed all the
means which his own high credit gave him. And he had
ftill a fufficient ftock of amity for ſeveral in the more pri-
vate walks of life, whom he ſelected as the companions
of his difengaged hours, on account of their good ſenſe,
integrity, and complaifance of behaviour. Among the
foremoſt of thefe, were, Lewis, Ford, Sir Andrew
Fountaine, Biſhop Atterbury, Dr. Freind, Colonel Dif
ney, Captain Charlton, Domville, and many others: all
men of excellent characters. Added to thefe, there was
*Swift, in a former part of his Journal, October 18, 1711, had
faid of Lord Peterborough, "He has abundance of excellent qualities,
and we love one another mightily."
a con-
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a confiderable number in an humbler fphere, whofe fole
patron he was, and for whom he made ample proviſion,
merely on account of their merit or diftrefs, without be-
ing influenced by ties of confanguinity, or partial recom-
mendations.
His behaviour to thefe different claffes, fhewed an un-
common greatnefs of foul. He ſtudiouſly cultivated the
acquaintance of all men of genius, whom he treated with
a brotherly affection; and never let them feel the fuperi-
ority which his right of elderſhip gave him over them,
but, on the contrary, either endeavoured to raiſe them
to his own height, or placed himſelf on a level with
them.
With his friends in private life, he was eaſy, familiar,
indulgent, and kind.
Such as were under his protection, never felt the
weight of dependence. There was no occafion for dan-
cing attendance, or frequent importunities, he always had
them in mind, and ferved them the inftant it was in his
power: nor did he expect any returns for his favours,
though he was pleaſed when he ſaw marks of a grateful
mind.
But to all men of rank and ftation, he afferted that
noble independence of ſpirit which becomes the free-born
mind. He made no allowance for the cafual fuperiority,
which birth, or fortune, or human inſtitutions had given
them, but valued them in proportion only to that higher
nobility of foul derived from God and nature. He had
long beheld with indignation the mean condefcenfions and
homage paid by men of genius, to fcoundrels in power,
and titled fools, and was determined to afford a ſtriking
example in himſelf of a contrary conduct, by reclaiming
the rights due to fuperiority of talents, over thofe of birth
or fortune. In one of his Tatlers, he fays, "If thoſe
who poffefs great endowments of the mind, would fet a
juft
DOCTOR SWIFT.
161
juſt value on themſelves, they would think no man's ac-
quaintance whatſoever a condefcenfion, not accept it from
the greateft, upon unworthy or ignominious terms.
But Swift was not content with this negative virtue, of
not feeking their acquaintance upon improper terms, but
reſolved to diſpute their right to that fuperiority over his
brethren, which they had fo leng poffeffed, and put in
his claim to receive that homage from them, which had
always been paid them by others. Accordingly he laid
it down as a rule, that he never would folicit the acquain-
tance of any man, let his quality or ſtation be what it
would; but that all who were defirous of the honour of
being ranked among the number of his friends, fhould
make the firſt advances to him. Of this we have a re-
markable inftance in his Journal, May 19, 1711. "Mr
Secretary told me, the Duke of Buckingham had been
talking much to him about me, and defired my acquain-
tance: I anſwered, it could not be, for he had not made
fufficient advances. Then the Duke of Shrewſbury faid,
he thought that Duke was not uſed to make advances.
I faid, I could not help that: for I always expected ad-
vances in proportion to men's quality, and more from a
Duke than any other man. The Duke replied, that he
did not mean any thing of his quality, which was hand-
fomely faid enough, for he meant his pride." In another
place, July 29, 1711, he fays, "I was at Court and
Church to-day, as I was this day fe'nnight; I generally
am acquainted with about thirty in the drawing-room,
and I am ſo proud I make all the Lords come up to me.'
Nor was this rule confined to the men only, he de-
manded and received the fame homage from the vainer
ſex alſo, in order to render the empire of genius and ta-
lents univerfal. In his Journal, October 7, 1711, he
has this paffage. "I faw Lord Halifax at Court, and
we joined and talked, and the Duchefs of Shrewſbury
M
came
162
THE LIFE OF
came up and reproached me for not dining with her:
I ſaid, that was not fo foon done, for I expected more
advances from Ladies, efpecially Ducheffes: fhe pro-
mifed to comply with any demands I pleafed; and I
agreed to dine with her to-morrow, &c. Lady Ogle-
thorp brought me and the Duchefs of Hamilton toge-
ther to-day in the drawing-room, and I have given her
fome encouragement, but not much." In a letter to
the Duchefs of Queensbury, many years after he fays,
"I am glad you know your duty; for it has been a
known and eſtabliſhed rule above twenty years in Eng-
land, that the firſt advances have been conſtantly made
me by all Ladies, who afpired to my acquaintance, and
the greater their quality, the greater were their ad-
vances." Nor was it for himfelf only that he demanded
this privilege, but as far as lay in his power, would
have it extended to all his brethren. When Lord Ox-
ford had defired Swift to introduce Dr. Parnell to him,
he refuſed to do it, upon this principle, that a man of
genius was a character fuperior to that of a Lord in high
ftation, and therefore obliged my Lord to introduce
himfelf: which he did in the moſt courteous manner.
On which occafion Swift in his Journal boaftingly fays,
I value myſelf upon making the Miniftry defire to
be acquainted with Parnell, and not Parnell with the
Miniſtry." His contemporary authors all received the
benefit of this, and by following his example, in pla-
cing a proper value on themfelves, were treated with
more reſpect than ever fell to the ſhare of their prede-
ceffors, or thoſe who have fince fucceeded them. Pope
acknowledges his obligation to him on this fcore, where
he fays, "The top pleaſure of my life is one I learned
from you, both how to gain, and how to uſe the free-
dom of friendship with men much my fuperiors."
Nothing
DOCTOR SWIFT.
163
*
Nothing but the extraordinary talents of Swift, and
uncommon degree of merit in a variety of ways, could
poffibly have made the great ones of the world defcend
fo far from their pride, as to admit this new claim,
and pay him that homage which they had always con-
fidered as due only to themfelves. And indeed he
feems to have been looked up to by all the world, as
one of a ſuperior race of beings, or, like the Phoenix,
as one who formed a clafs in the individual, ftanding
alone, without a rival or competitor And though
encompaffed by a cluster of the brighteft geniuses, that
this Iſland ever produced at any given æra, yet he ſtood
diſtinguiſhed in the circle, and as the acknowledged
monarch of wit, received the voluntary homage of his
Peers. And indeed among all that clafs of eminent
Writers, generally not the moſt humble of the human
race, there was not one found vain enough to difpute
his title, and all on different occafions have borne tefti-
mony to the fuperiority of his genius. Of which many
inftances may be produced, both in their works, and
in the courfe of letters which paffed between them.
Having raiſed himſelf to this high rank among men,
merely by his perfonal merit, he took care to guard it
with the fame jealous attention, that a Monarch fhews
* A letter from Thomas Harley, Efq; to Swift, begins thus,
"Your letter gave me a great deal of pleasure: I do not mean only the
fatisfaction one muft always find in hearing from fo good a friend, who
has diftinguiſhed himfelf in the world, and formed a new character,
which nobody is vain enough to pretend to imitate; but, &c.-
And the Earl of Strafford, one of the proudeft men of the age, ad-
dreffes him in this manner,
SIR,
"To honour, and eſteem, and admire you, is general to all that
know or have heard of you; but to be pleafed with your commands,
and glad and diligent to obey them, is peculiar to your true friends;
of which number I am very defirous to be reckoned."
M 2
to
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THE LIFE OF
to the prefervation of his prerogative. The leaft flight
fhewn him, or any unbecoming treatment of him, was
not to be pardoned without a due fubmiffion from the
perfon fo offending. We have already feen that he re-
fuſed to be reconciled to his friend Lord Oxford, upon
a quarrel of that nature, in which he confidered as an
infult, what was intended by the other as a favour, and
threatened to caft him off, if he did not make a proper
apology.
He broke off with Lady Giffard, one of his oldeft
acquaintances in life, on a fimilar account, and declared
he would never fee her again, unlefs fhe afked his par-
don, In his Journal of March 27, 1711, he gives the
following account of his refentment to Lord Landf-
down: "Society-day you know. We were never mer-
rier nor better company, and did not part till after ele-
ven. I did not fummon Lord Landfdown: he and I
are fallen out. There was fomething in an Examiner
a fortnight ago, that he thought reflected on the abuſes
in his Office; (he is Secretary at War) and he writ to
the Secretary, that he heard I had inferted that para-
graph. This I refented highly, that he ſhould com-
plain of me, before he ſpoke to me. I fent him a pep-
pering letter, and would not fummon him by a note,
as I did the reſt; nor ever will have any thing to ſay to
him, 'till be begs my pardon." Nay even with regard to
his dear friend Addifon, merely on account of his fhew-
ing fome fufpicion of him, in a converfation relative
to Steele, his conduct was the fame; as may be ſeen in
the following paffage of his Journal. "I went to the
coffee-houſe, where I behaved myſelf coldly enough to
Mr. Addiſon, and fo came home to fcribble. We dine
together to-morrow and next day, by invitation; but I
fhall alter my behaviour to him, 'till he begs my pardon,
or elfe we ſhall grow bare acquaintance.'
I find
DOCTOR SWIFT.
165
I find an unwillingneſs to part with Swift at this pe-
riod of his life, without fhewing him in all the various
lights in which he then appeared. It is from his meri-
dian height that we are to judge of the ſplendor and
powerful influence of the fun; not from his feeble fet-
ting ray, obfcured by mifts, or intercepted by clouds.
Yet it is in this laft ftate only, he has hitherto been re-
preſented to the world, in the feveral memoirs publiſh-
ed of him, by thofe who never faw him but in his de-
cline, and therefore have given a very unfair reprefenta-
tion of the man. To judge of his real character, we
muſt have recourſe to the teftimony of fuch of his con-
temporaries, as knew him in his more perfect state.
From the accounts given by the former, the world in
general have been taught to conſider him in the light
of a fevere, morofe, intractable man, abounding in
pleen and ill-nature. And in this opinion they were
confirmed by the feverity of his fatyr in many of his
writings. But how will they be furpriſed to find, that
by thoſe who best knew him at the æra I have been
ſpeaking of, he was as much celebrated for his good-
nature, as his wit! Of which, among a number of
others, I fhall produce a few inftances. Mr. Addifon,
in one of his letters, has the following paffage. "I
know you have ſo much zeal and pleaſure, in doing
kind offices for thofe you with well to, that I hope you
repreſent the hardſhip of the cafe, in the ſtrongeſt co-
lours that it can poffibly bear. However, as I always
bonoured you for your good-nature, which is a very odd
quality to celebrate in a man, who has talents fo much
more faining in the eyes of the world, I fhould be glad
if I could any way concur with you, in putting a ſtop
to what you ſay is now in agitation." And in another
place, "I am fure a zealous friendly behaviour, dif-
tinguiſhes you as much, as your many more fhining ta-
M 3
lents:
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lents; and as I have received particular inftances of it,
you muſt have a very bad opinion of me, if you do not
think I heartily love and refpect you." Lady Betty
Germaine, daughter of Lord Berkeley, who knew him
thoroughly from her earliest days, fays to him, in a very
frank letter, wherein the attacks him with a good deal
of ſpirit on Lady Suffolk's account-" It is you ought
"It
to be angry, and never forgive her, becauſe you have
been fo much in the wrong, as to condemn her with-
out fhew of juftice; and I wish with all my heart, as a
judgment upon you, that you had feen her as I did,
when the news of your friend's death * came; for
though you are a proud perfon, yet give you devil your
due, you are a fincere, good-natured honeft one."
this quality of his was diſcoverable only on a nearer ac-
quaintance; for on this, as on all other occafions, he
was at more pains to conceal his virtues, than others.
are to difplay them; and to effect this, often put on the
appearance of qualities directly contrary to thofe he pof-
feffed. One of his intimates †, writes thus to him.
But
You have an unlucky quality, which expofes you to
to the forwardness of thofe that love you; I mean good
nature. From which, though I did not always fufpect you
guilty of it, I now promife myself an eafy pardon."
Nor was his good nature merely of the common
kind, he had a tendernefs of heart which made him
feel with unufual fenfibility the fufferings, misfortunes,
or lofs of friends, and fympathize with them in their
afflictions. Nor were theſe feelings afterwards dimi-
niſhed or blunted by years, 'till the faculties of his
mind were impaired, and in a great degree they out-
lived even thofe; as may be feen in many inftances du-
* Mr. Gay. On whofe account Swift had accufed Lady Suffolk.
Chiverton Charlton, Captain of the Yeomen of the Guards.
ring
DOCTOR SWIFT.
167
ring his latter correfpondence, upon the death of any
of his old friends. In what agonies of mind does he
give to Stella a diftracted account of the ftabbing Mr.
Harley by Guifcard? March 1, 1711. "O dear M. D.
my heart is almoft broken. You will hear the thing
before this comes to you; I writ a full account of it
this night to the Archbishop of Dublin. I was in a
forry way to write, but thought it might be proper to
fend a true account of the fact, for you will hear a thou-
fand lying circumftances. 'Tis of Mr. Harley's being
ftabbed this afternoon at three o'clock at a Committee
of the Council. 1 am in mortal pain for him. That
defperate French villain, Marquis de Guifcard, ftabbed
Mr. Harley. Pray pardon my diſtraction. I now think
of all his kindnefs to me. The poor creature now lies
ſtabbed in his bed, by a defperate French popiſh vil-
lain. Good night, and God preferve you both, and
pity me. I want it."
His behaviour to the Duchefs of Hamilton, on the
unfortunate death of the Duke, killed in a duel by Lord
Mohun, affords a ftriking inftance of a warm feeling
heart. He flew to her the inftant the news reached him, te
adminifter every affiftance and confolation in his
power.
Of which take the following account in his Journal,
November 15, 1712. "They have removed the poor
Duchefs to a lodging in the neighbourhood, where I
have been with her two hours, and am just come away.
I never faw fo melancholy a fcene. She has moved my
very foul.
16th. I thought to have finished this yef-
terday, but was too much difturbed. I fent a letter
early this morning to Lady Maſham, to beg her to
write fome comforting words to the poor Duchefs.
She has promifed me to get the Queen to write to the
Duchefs kindly on this occafion; and to-morrow I will
beg Lord Treaſurer to vifit and comfort her. I have
been
M 4
168
THE LIFE OF
been with her two hours again, and find her worse.
Her violences not fo frequent, but her melancholy more
formal and fettled. Lady Orkney, her fifter-in law, is
come to town on the occafion, and has been to ſee her,
and behaved herſelf with great humanity. They have
been always very ill together; and the poor Duchefs
could not have patience when people told her I went
often to Lady Orkney's. But I am refolved to make
them friends; for the Duchefs is now no more the ob
ject of envy, and muſt learn humility from the fevereſt
Mafter, Affliction." Here we fee that not content with
what friendly offices he could do in his own perfon, he
immediately applies to higher powers, even to royalty
itfelf, to adminifter richer cordials to raife her finking
foul, and pour a more fovereign balm on her afflicted
Spirit. And at the fame time forms a plan for her fu-
ture eaſe and comfort, by endeavouring to make up a
family breach.
The accounts he gives of the illneſs and death of poor
Harriſon, for whom he had made ſo noble a provifion *,
are manifeftly the effufions of a tender heart. Febru-
ary 12, 1712. “I found a letter on my table laft night,
to tell me that poor little Harrifon, the Queen's Secre-
tary, that came lately from Utrecht with the Barrier
Treaty, was ill, and defired to fee me at night: but it
was late, and I could not go 'till to-day. I went in
the morning and found him mighty ill, and got thirty
guineas for him from Lord Bolingbroke, and an or-
der for one hundred pounds from the Treafury to be
paid him to-morrow; and I have got him removed to
Knightsbridge for air. 13th. I fent to fee how he did,
and he is extremely ill; and I am very much afflicted
for him, as he is my own creature in a very honourable
* That of Queen's Secretary at the Hague, a poft which Lord
Bolingbroke afterwards bellowed on his own brother.
poft,
DOCTOR
169
SWIFT.
poft, and very worthy of it. His mother and fifter at-
tend him, and he wants nothing. 14th. I took Parnell
this morning, and we walked to ſee poor Harriſon.
I had the one hundred pounds in my pocket. 1
told Parnell I was afraid to knock at the door; my mind
mifgave me. I did knock, and his man in tears told me
his maſter was dead an hour before. Think what grief
this is to me! I could not dine with Lord Treaſurer,
nor any where elfe, but got a bit of meat towards even-
ing. No lofs ever grieved me fo much: poor crea-
ture! Pray God Almighty bleſs you. Adieu. I fend
this away to-night, and I am forry it muft go while I
am in fo much grief
* "
Indeed, during that whole period, his breaft feems
to have contained a perpetual ſpring of the pureft be-
nevolence, always flowing, and always full: and the
chief delight of his life arofe from doing acts of hu-
manity, charity, generofity, and friendſhip. Nor con-
tent with what he could perform in that way himſelf,
his utmoſt endeavours were uſed to diffuſe the ſame ſpi-
rit of benevolence into all with whom he was connect-
ed. He was the life and foul of that famous fociety of
fixteen, confifting of fome of the first men of the age,
in point of talents, rank, and virtue. To tie them
cloſer to each other, he made them adopt the endear-
ing name of brothers; and to fpread the circle ſtill
wider, the Ladies of the feveral members, called fif
* Lord Bolingbroke bears ftrong teftimony to this quality in Swift,
in his letter of March 17, 1719.
"I have not theſe ſeveral years
taſted ſo fenfible a pleaſure, as your letters of the 16th of January and
16th of February gave me; and I know enough of the tenderneſs of your.
beart, to be affured, that the letter I am writing will produce much the
fame effect on you. I feel my own pleaſure, and I feel your's. The
trueſt reflection, and at the fame time the bittereft fatyr, which can
be made on the prefent age, is this, that to think as you think, will
make a man pafs for romantic. Sincerity, conftancy, tenderness, are
rarely to be found."
ters,
170
LIFE OF
THE
ters, and even their children were nephews and nieces.
Happy were the envied few who flood in this adopted
relationſhip to Swift, and they never failed afterwards
boaftingly to uſe that title; as may be feen in feveral
of their letters. Great was the canvaffing to be admit-
ted into that number; and the Duke of Ormond look-
ed
upon it as a high honour that he was elected a mem-
ber, without any application on his part. "The end
of our club (fays Swift) is to advance converfation and
friendship, and to reward deferving perfons with our
intereft and recommendation. We take in none but
men of wit, or men of intereft; and if we go on as we
begin, no other club of the town will be worth talking
of." To keep them fteady to theſe points, and to pre-
vent their degenerating into political meetings, Swift
early oppoſed the admiffion of Lord Treaſurer and
Lord Keeper, who had been propofed, and they were
accordingly excluded; but their fons were received in
their room.
There are feveral inftances mentioned of
contributions raiſed by them to relieve indigent merit,
which were diſtributed by Swift *
Of this, among many others, take the following inftances, Jour-
nal, February 12, 1712. "I dined to-day with our fociety, the
greatcft dinner I have ever feen. It was at Jack Hill's, the Gover-
nor of Dunkirk. I gave an account of fixty guineas I had collected,
and am to give them away to two authors to-morrow. And Lord Trea-
furer has promiſed me one hundred pounds to reward fome others.
3th. I was to fee a poor Poet, one Mr. Diaper, in a nafty garret,
very fick. I gave him twenty guineas from Lord Bolingbroke, and
difpofed the other fixty to two other authors. In that of March 30,
"I was naming fome time ago, to a certain perfon, another certain
perſon, that was very deferving, and poor, and fickly; and the other,
that firft certain perfon, gave me one hundred pounds to give the other.
The perfon who is to have it, never faw the giver, nor expects one
firthing, nor has the leaft knowledge or imagination of it; fo 1 be-
lieve it will be a very agreeable furpriſe; for I think it a handſome
prefent enough. I paid the 100 1. this evening, and it was a great
Surpriſe to the receiver.'
He
DOCTOR SWIFT.
171
He had ſo far endeavoured to diffuſe this fpirit of be-
nevolence among all his connections, that Lord Peter-
borough raillies him upon it thus in one of his letters.
"You were returning me to ages paft for fome expref-
fions in my letter. I find matter in your's to fend you as
far back as the golden age. How came you to frame
a fyftem, in the times we live in, to govern the world.
by love?"
A
He did not fhew at that time any of that acrimony,
which he contracted afterwards from difappointment, ill-
nefs, and a thouſand vexations multiplying on him, and
increaſing with his years. On the contrary, he feems by
his Journal and Letters to have had an uncommon fow
of fpirits, and a cheerfulneſs of temper not eafily affected.
Accordingly his company was eagerly fought after by all
who could get accefs to him; and his converfation was
the delight not only of thoſe who had a relish for wit and
humour, but of thoſe who took pleaſure in the unre-
ftrained focial hour of good humour and mirth. So that
he feems to have had every requifite that could excite at
once the admiration and love of his friends. And indeed
no man ever poffeffed both in a more eminent degree,
and that from a large group of characters, diſtinguiſhed
for their rank, talents and worth; fuch as are hardly to
be paralleled, as co-exiftent at the fame period, either
in the hiſtory of our own country, or perhaps in that of
any other. It must be allowed, that Swift was very for-
tunate to have lived at ſuch a juncture, and that he was
judicious in his choice; but furely it is a proof of his ex-
traordinary merit, that they were all united in the fame
fentiments towards him, however they differed among
each other; and that their attachment to him continued
invariably the fame ever after, not feeming to have fuf-
fered any diminution either from abfence, length of time,
or loss of power. It is from the accounts of thoſe who
3
knew
172
THE LIFE OF
knew him intimately at that period, that we are to form
an idea of his real character, not from the reports or fur-
mifes of others, or fuch as only faw him in his decline,
when little of his former felf remained. There have al-
ready been many quotations given for that purpoſe; to
clofe his character, I fhall only add two more, from
two of his moft intimate friends; one from Dr. Arbuth-
not, a man as remarkable for the goodneſs of his heart,
as his fine talents; the other from Pope. The firſt is
part of a letter written foon after the Queen's death.
"Dear friend, the laft fentence of your letter quite kills
me. Never repeat that melancholy tender word, that
you will endeavour to forget me. I am fure I never can
forget you till I meet with (what is impoffible) another,
whofe converſation I can delight fo much in, as Dr.
Swift's, and yet that is the ſmalleſt thing I ought to va-
lue you for. That hearty fincere friendship, that plain
and open ingenuity in all your commerce, is what I am
fure I can never find in another man. I fhall want often
a faithful monitor, one that would vindicate me behind
my back, and tell me my faults to my face. God knows
I write this with tears in my eyes.”
The other is in a letter from Pope to Lord Orrery,
where, fpeaking of Swift, he ſays, "My fincere love for
this valuable, indeed incomparable man, will accompany
him through life, and purſue his memory, were I to live
a hundred lives, as many as his works will live; which
are abfolutely original, unequalled, unexampled. His
humanity, his charity, his condefcenfion, his candour,
are equal to his wit, and require as good and true a tafte
to be equally valued."
But Pope wrote this to a man who had no fuch true
taſte. To one, who in all his remarks on Swift's life,
has endeavoured to depreciate the memory of that great
man, and place all his actions in the worst light. Not
con-
DOCTOR
173
SWIFT.
content with attacking his private character, and often
with the malice of an Iago (fo much worſe indeed as be-
ing utterly unprovoked) turning his very virtue into pitch,
he has endeavoured to reduce his political one to the low-
eft line; as may be ſeen in the following paffage *. "He
was elated with the appearance of enjoying minifterial
confidence. He enjoyed the fhadow, the fubftance was
kept from him. He was employed, not trufted; and at
the fame time that he imagined himſelf a fubtle diver,
who dexterously fhot down into the profoundeft regions
of politics, he was fuffered only to found the fhallows
neareſt the ſhore, and was fcarce admitted to defcend be-
low the froth at the top. Perhaps the deeper bottoms
were too muddy for his infpection." I dare fay his Lord-
ſhip, when he had finiſhed this paragraph, looked it over
often with great felf-complacency, and admired it as a
beautiful and well turned period. But unfortunately
there was not one fyllable of truth in it, of which there
have been already fufficient proofs given. Yet as this
opinion, even upon fo weak an authority, has, from the
general ſpirit of envy, been adopted by numbers; and
as ſome of the nobleft points of Swift's character, depend
upon the confideration of the high rank which he then
held in the political ftate, I fhall here adduce farther
proofs of his great importance, and fhew, that though
he was without office or rank, he was the man the moſt
truſted, and the moſt employed in all political and ſtate
affairs, of any of that time.
We have already feen with what rapidity and eager-
nefs, contrary to his ufual procraftinating and referved
difpofition, Harley rushed into his acquaintance, and be-
fought his friendſhip. That foon after their first conver-
fing together, he told St. John he could keep nothing
from him, Swift had fo much the way of getting into
* Lord Orrery's remarks on the Life and Writings of Swift.
him
174
THE LIFE OF
him*. That after a clofer intimacy, though the moft
reſerved man alive, and the leaſt apt to deſpond, he con-
feffed, that uttering his mind to Swift, gave him eaſe †.
And that he continued ever after to repofe this truft in
him, may be ſeen in a letter from Lewis in the year
1713, fuppofed by the world to be the moft confidential
man with Lord Oxford, where he fays, "His mind has
been communicated more freely to you than to any
other." In two months after their firft acquaintance, he
was admitted of the Saturday's private party, or Mini-
fter's Cabinet Council, confifting of the Lord Keeper
Harcourt, the Earl Rivers, the Earl of Peterborough,
and Mr. Secretary St. John; where, after dinner, they
uſed to diſcourſe, and fettle matters of great importance,
and Swift was always one of the number. It has been
fhewn that he ftood in an equal degree of confidence with
Lord Bolingbroke and no man living, no not of the
Miniſtry, ſtood fo high in the opinion of Lady Maſham,
the fecond greateſt favourite of the Queen, and latterly
the first; of which the moſt unequivocal proofs have been
produced, in her fhedding tears openly, upon the talk
of fending him to Ireland, and her laft earneſt letter to
him before the Queen's death. All the great officers of
ftate connected with the Miniftry, followed their example.
in paying him homage. Lord Keeper Harcourt told a
placeman of inferior rank, who had treated Swift with
fome incivility, to take care of what he did, for the
Doctor was not only the favourite of all the Miniſtry, but
their Governor alfo. We have feen that Lord Rivers
told the printers, for whom Swift had demanded feveral
places in his department of confiderable value, that the
Doctor commanded, and he must obey. We find too,
that when any of the Miniftry themfelves had a favour to
* Vide Journal, Nov. 11, 1710. + Journal, March 4, 1710-11.
Memoirs relating to the Change, &c, and Journal paſſim.
afk
DOCTOR SWIFT.
175
afk of Lord Oxford, it was through him they made their
application*. It was the fame too with regard to the
foreign Miniſters t. In what light he ftood with the
Spaniſh Ambaffador, may be feen from the following ex-
tract from his Journal, December 21, 1712. "This
day fe'nnight, after I had been talking at Court with Sir
William Wyndham, the Spaniſh Ambaffador came to
him, and faid he heard that was Doctor Swift, and de-
fired him to tell me, that his Mafter, and the King of
France, and the Queen, were obliged to me more than
to any man in Europe. So we bowed, and fhook hands,
&c. I took it very well of him." All ftate writings, the
Queen's Speeches, Addreffes upon them, &c. were ei-
ther entirely drawn up by him, or fubmitted to his cor-
rection. He had a confiderable fhare in the famous re-
prefentation of the Speaker's, Sir Thomas Hanmer,
which made fuch a noiſe at that time, and was confidered
as the finest that ever was penned. In fhort there was
not a move made of any kind with relation either to pub-
lick affairs, or party matters, in which he was not con-
fulted, and the greatest fhare of labour in the executive
part was thrown upon his fhoulders. In all this plenitude
of power, he was fo far from being elated with the ap-
pearance of enjoying minifterial confidence, that he ufed his
beſt endeavours to conceal it from the world in general,
though it could not be a fecret to thofe of his own party.
Journal, January 8, 1712-13. "I tell you a good thing; there
is not one of the Ministry, but what will employ me as gravely to
fpeak for them to Lord Treasurer, as if I were their brother, or his,
and I do it as gravely, though I know they do it only becaufe they
will not make them elves uncafy, or had rather I ſhould be denied than
they."
+ March 5, 1712-13.
I was at Court to-day, and the foreign
Minifters have got a trick of employing me to peak for them to
lord Treaſurer, and Lord Bolingbroke, which I do when the cafe įs
reaſonable."
With
176
THE LIFE OF
With this view, he abfented himſelf from Lord Trea-
furer's levees, having never appeared there but twice,
during their whole acquaintance. And at Court he al-
ways avoided him whenever he made towards him, nor
would ever be feen fpeaking to him there*. But it was
impoffible long to conceal that fuperior degree of favour
in which he ſtood with the Minifter. His writings, in
the cauſe he efpoufed, had rendered him too confpicuous,
and the adverſe party were too much galled by them, not
to make them watchful of all his motions. He was ac-
cordingly confidered by the leaders of the oppofite party,
as the first mover in all the minifterial meaſures; and
many virulent ſpeeches were made againſt him by name,
both in the Houfe of Lords and Commons, as one who
was in the fecret of all affairs, and without whofe advice
or privity nothing was done, or employment difpofed of t
Oh Lord Orrery! how little did you know of the true
ſtate of affairs at that time, when you wrote that falfe
envious paragraph, and how utterly unacquainted muft
you have been with the real character of the man, whoſe
memoirs you undertook to write, when you could fup-
poſe him ſo mean ſpirited as to be the mere tool of a
Miniſtry; and fo blinded by vanity (a fault of which he
´had not one particle in his compofition, for, as he him-
felf has often obſerved, he was too proud to be vainì as
not to diſcover whether he was only employed, not trusted!
Nor was his influence confined to England only, he
was the chief perſon confulted in the affairs of Ireland,
particularly during the Duke of Ormond's Adminiftra-
January 15, 1712-13. "I was at Court to-day, and as Lord
Treaſurer came towards me I avoided him, and he hunted me thrice
about the room. I affect never to take notice of him at Church or
Court. He knows it, for I have told him ſo, and to-night at Lord
Maſham's he gave an account of it to the company; but my reaſons are,
that people ſeeing me ſpeak to him, cauſes a great deal of teaſing.”
↑ Vide Swift's Memoirs relating to the Change, &c.
tion,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
177
tion, and few preferments paffed, efpecially in the Church,
without his approbation. Of this there are many proofs
to be found in his correfpondence with the Archbishop of
Dublin, Primate Lindfay, Lord Chancellor Phipps, and
his own Journal *.
Having now, paſt all controverſy, eftabliſhed the high
degree of power and influence which he then enjoyed,
beyond any that perhaps ever fell to the lot of a private
perſon, must not the difintereſted fpirit of Swift ftrike us
with aſtoniſhment, when we reflect that he made no other
uſe of theſe great advantages, but to promote the publick
cauſe in which he was engaged, or to make ample pro-
vifion for perfons of merit, while he was utterly negli-
gent with regard to his own fortune? It must be obvious.
to every one, who confiders the light in which he ſtood,
that had he been a man of intrigue, or could he have
made his principles bend to the reigning policy of the
Court; had he not incurred the Queen's diſpleaſure, by
endeavouring to counteract her adopted fyftem of govern-
ment, and treating her bofom favourite with a feverity
never to be forgiven; nay had he only followed the lead
of the Minifter, by acquiefcing in meaſures which he
found it vain to oppofe; it muſt be allowed, I ſay, con-
fidering the immenfity of his talents, the clofe connec-
* Vide his letter to the Archbishop, September 31, 1713. His
Journal, February 1, 1712-13.
Lord Primate Lindsay writes thus to him, in his letter of January
5, 1713-14. "There is a gentleman, whom I believe you muſt have
heard of, Dr. Andrew Hamilton, Archdeacon of Raphoe, a man of
good learning and abilities, and one of great intereft in that country's
whom I could wish you would move for to fucceed me in Raphoe, as
one that is most likely to do good in that part of the country, of any
man I know."
"And now be pleaſed to accept my thanks for the great fervices
you have done me, and as you have contributed much to my advancement,
fo I must defire you, upon occafion, to give me your farther affiftance
for the fervice of the Church.'
N
tion
178
THE LIFE OF
tion he ſtood in with all the leading men, the great im
portance he was of to their caufe, and the almoſt fifterly
affection fhewn him by Lady Maſham, that he might
have afpired to the higheft dignities in the Church, or
even, if his bent lay that way, in the ftate. For in thoſe
days the gown was not confidered as a difqualification to
minifterial offices, as we find the Bishop of Bristol was
made Lord Privy-feal, and Ambaffador Plenipotentiary.
But as it was a maxim with Swift, that while the Queen
purſued her trimming plan, the interefts of the Church
and State were on a fandy foundation, and that there
could be no folid eſtabliſhment for them, 'till the Whigs.
were all turned out of their employments, and a total end
put to their power; he determined not only never to fall
in with the Queen's meaſures, but on the contrary open-
ly to oppofe them. Though at the fame time he muft
have been confcious that this was the moft certain way to
bar his own preferment.
The only employment that Swift ever afked for during
all that time, was that of Hiftoriographer; and his rea-
fons for defiring it are thus fet forth, in his Memorial to
the Queen, April 1, 1714.
"The change of Miniftry about four years ago, the
fall of the Duke of Marlborough, and the proceedings.
fince, in relation to the peace and treaties, are all capable
of being very maliciouſly reprefented to pofterity, if they
fhould fall under the pen of fome writer of the oppofite
party, as they probably may.
"Upon theſe reafons it is neceffary, for the honour of
the Queen, and in juſtice to her fervants, that fome able
hand fhould be immediately employed, to write the hif
tory of her Majeſty's reign, that the truth of things may
be tranſmitted to future ages, and bear down the falfe-
hood of malicious pens."
"The Dean of St. Patrick's is ready to undertake this
work, humbly defiring her Majefty will pleafe to appoint
him.
DOCTOR SWIFT
179
him her Hiftoriographer; not from any view of the pro-
fit, (which is fo inconfiderable, that it will hardly ferve
to pay the expence of fearching offices) but from an earn-
eft defire to ſerve his Queen and country: for which that
employment will qualify him, by an opportunity of accefs
to thofe places, where papers and records are kept, which
will be neceffary to any who undertake fuch a hiſtory."
We fee upon what difinterefted principles Swift defired
this office; and he feems to have been highly provoked
at his not obtaining it, laying the blame very unjustly on
Lord Bolingbroke, as may be feen in his letter to Mifs
Vanhomrigh, Auguſt 1, 1714. "I am not of your
opinion about Lord Bolingbroke, perhaps he may get
the Staff, but I cannot rely on his love to me.
He knew
I had a mind to be Hiftoriographer, though I valued it
not but for the publick fervice; yet it is gone to a worth-
lefs rogue, that no-body knows." But it appears from a
letter of Dr. Arbuthnot's, July 17, 1714, that Lord Bo-
lingbroke was moft hearty in his caufe; where he ſays,
"I gave your letter, with the inclofed Memorial, cave-
lierment to Lord Bolingbroke. He read it, and feemed
concerned at fome part of it, expreffing himfelf thus:
"That it would be among the eternal fcandals of the
government, to fuffer a man of your character, that had
fo well deferved of them, to have the leaft uneafy thoughts
about thoſe matters." But the truth is, that it was out
of my Lord's power to have ſerved him in this point, as
the Memorial was not put into his hands, till a fortnight
after the place had been difpofed of *. So that it is
pro-
bable it never was prefented to the Queen. And his
friend Ford, to whom he had alfo communicated his fuf-
* In a letter from Charles Ford, Efq; to Dr. Swift, July 20, 17143
is the following paffage. "I thought you had heard the Hiftoriogra
pher's place had been difpofed of this fortnight. I know no more
of him who has it, than that his name is Maddocks [Malox]."
N B
picions
180
THE LIFE OF
picions of Bolingbroke, vindicates him from the charge
in a letter written five days after the Queen's death,
where he fays, "I really believe Lord Bolingbroke was
very fincere in the profeffions he made of you, and he
could have done any thing. No Minifter was ever in
that height of favour, and Lady Mafham was at leaſt in
as much credit, as fhe had been in any time of her life.
But theſe are melancholy reflections."
There is a paffage in a letter from Swift to Pope, Ja-
nuary 10, 1721, relative to this office, which at first
view feems to contradict what he himself had faid about
it, as related above. "I had indeed written fome Me-
morials of the Four laft Years of the Queen's reign, with
fome other informations which I received, as neceffary
materials to qualify me for doing fomething in an em-
ployment then defigned for me; but, as it was at the
difpofal of a perfon, who had not the fmalleft ſhare of
ſteadineſs or fincerity, I difdained to accept it." But this
apparent contradiction may easily be thus folved. Swift
fcorned to accept the employment, as a favour, from the
Officer in whoſe department it was, for the reafon he af-
figns, and would receive it only from her Majeſty's own
appointment, to whom he therefore perfonally applied by
Memorial *.
* The circumſtance of the difpofal of this poft from Swift, has
afforded Lord Orrery an opportunity of expoſing his ignorance, and
invidious difpofition to lower Swift's confequence to the utmoſt. He
fays, "He (Swift) knew how uſeful he was to Adminiftration in gene-
ral; and in one of his letters he mentions, that the place of Hiftorio-
grapher was intended for him, but I am apt to fufpect that he flattered
himſelf too highly." Surely his Lordſhip muft have been either fo ill
informed, as to fuppofe this pot to be a very confiderable one, or
that Swift was without any degree of credit. He flattered himself tes
highly. Good Heaven! that fuch a man as Swift, fhould be accuſed
of flattering himself too highly, in expeding an employment, at
tended with much trouble, and without any degree either of honour
or profit!
I shall
DOCTOR SWIFT.
181
I fhall take leave of this period of Swift's life, by ob-
ferving that he was thrown into the world at a moſt fortu-
nate æra to gratify the ruling paffions of his heart. The
chief pleaſures of his life ſeem to have arifen from friend-
ſhip contracted with men of worth and talents, and the
fociety of perfons of wit and genius; and never was there
an æra, in which he could be fo amply indulged with re-
gard to both. I know there are numbers who laugh at
thoſe who ſpeak with admiration of paſt times, and la-
ment the degeneracy of the prefent, as idle declaimers,
laudatores temporis acti; with which the world has con-
ſtantly been furniſhed in all nations, from age to age;
but that in reality all times have been much alike. In
order that a fair compariſon may be made between the
period I have been fpeaking of, and that which followed
to the preſent time, I fhall here fet down a lift of the ex-
traordinary men who then flouriſhed together.
LIST OF LITERARY CHARACTERS.
Temple,
Garth,
Otway,
Dryden,
Steele,
Rowe,
Swift,
Wycherley,
Newton,
Addifon,
Vanbrugh,
Locke,
Pope,
Southern,
Boyle,
Prior,
Young,
Berkeley,
Congreve,
Parnell,
Atterbury,
Gay,
Arbuthnot,
Tillotson, &c.
Of MEN in HIGH RANK.
Duke of Marlborough,
Lord Anglefea,
Lord Peterborough,
Lord Oxford,
Lord Bolingbroke,
Lord Bathurst,
Lord Carteret,
Duke of Argyle,
Earl of Dorfet,
Lord Rofcommon,
Lord Halifax,
Sir William Wyndham,
Sir Thomas Hanmer.
N 3
!
Befide
182
THE LIFE OF
Befide many others that might be mentioned, of no
fmall note.
When they who are advocates for the above
opinion, fhall attempt to draw out a lift of names in the
prefent times, to be put in competition with thefe, they
will foon be obliged to confefs and retract their error.
SECTION V.
From his return to IRELAND to his DEATH.
hatred which their
All the ftories fa-
IMMEDIATELY after the deceafe of the Queen, Swift
returned to Ireland, where he found things in the higheft
ferment: the Whigs all in triumph, threatening ven-
geance on the whole body of the defponding Tories, as
foon as power ſhould come into their hands. However
violent the proceedings of the Whigs in England might
afterwards be, their animofity againſt the oppofite party
was moderate, in compariſon with the
brethren of Ireland bore to the Tories.
bricated in England by the Whigs, of an intention to bring
in the Pretender by the late Miniſtry, and which were only
calculated for the more violent of their party, and the
vulgar, were univerfally and implicitly believed in Ireland.
The dreadful and detefted days of James 11, of which
there were ſtill ſo many living witneffes in that kingdom,
and in which the whole body of Proteftants fuffered fo
much, came freſh into their minds, and raiſed the utmoſt
abhorrence of all who were fuppofed to be abettors of ſuch
a meafure. They were taught to confider the word Tory
and Jacobite, as fynonymous terms; and as Swift was
known to have been highly in the confidence of the late
Miniftry, he was of courfe fuppoſed to have been deeply
concerned with them in the plot of bringing in the Pre-
tender. Being the only one then in Ireland, againſt
whom a charge could be made of having an immediate
3
hand
DOCTOR SWIFT.
183
hand in ſuch a defign, he became the chief object upon
which the madnefs of party vented its rage. He was
conſtantly infulted with opprobrious language as he walk-
ed the streets, and fome of the more violent, ufed to take
up dirt from the kennel to throw at him as he paffed
along; infomuch, that he was obliged never to go abroad
without fervants armed to protect his perfon. Nor was
it from the lower clafs of people only, that he met with
fuch infults; but thofe of a higher rank, in proportion
as they were actuated by the virulence of party, or wiſh-
ed to make a merit to themselves with the governing
powers, took all opportunities of treating him with the
utmoſt indignity. Of this I have a ftrong inftance now
before me, in a Paper drawn up by Swift himſelf. The
title of it is, "The Dean of St. Patrick's Petition to the
Houfe of Lords against Lord Blaney and on the inſide:
To the Right Honourable the Lords Spiritual and Tem-
poral, in Parliament affembled."
The Humble PETITION of JONATHAN SWIFT, D. D.
and Dean of the Cathedral of ST. PATRICK'S,
DUBLIN.
Moſt humbly fheweth,
THAT your Petitioner is adviſed by his phyficians, on
account of his health, to go often on horfeback; and
there being no place, in winter, fo convenient for riding,
as the ftand towards Howth, your Petitioner takes all
opportunities that his bufinefs or the weather will permit,
to take that road. That in the laft Seffion of Parliament,
in the midst of winter, as your Petitioner was returning
from Howth with his two fervants, one before, and the
other behind him, he was purſued by two gentlemen in a
chaife, dawn by two high mettled horfes, in fo violent a
N 4
man-
184
LIFE OF
THE
manner, that his fervant who rode behind him, was forced
to give way, with the utmolt peril of his life: where-
upon your Petitioner made what fpeed he could, riding
to the right and left above fifty yards to the full extent
of the faid road. But the two gentlemen driving a light
chaiſe, drawn by fleet horſes, and intent upon miſchief,
turned faſter than your Petitioner, endeavouring to over-
throw him. That by great accident your Petitioner got
to the fide of a ditch, where the chaife could not fafely
purfue; and the two gentlemen ftopping their career,
your Petitioner mildly expoftulated with them: where-
upon one of the gentlemen faid, Damn you, is not the
road as free for us, as for you? and calling to his ſervant
who rode behind him, faid, Tom (or fome fuch name) is
the piftol loaden with ball? To which the fervant anſwer-
ed, yes, my Lord, and gave him the piftol. Your Pe-
titioner often faid to the gentleman, pray, Sir, do not
fhoot, for my horfe is apt to ftart, by which my life may
be endangered, The chaife went forward, and your Pe-
titioner took the opportunity to ftay behind. Your Pe-
titioner is informed, that the perfon who spoke the words
above-mentioned, is of your Lordship's houfe, under the
tile and title of Lord Blaney; whom your Petitioner re-
members to have introduced to Mr. Secretary Addifon,
in the Earl of Wharton's government, and to have done
him other good offices at that time, becauſe he was repre-
fented as a young man of fome hopes, and a broken for-
tune. That the faid Lord Blaney, as your Petitioner is
informed, is now in Dublin, and fometimes attends your
Lordſhip's houſe. And your Petitioner's heath ſtill re-
quiring that he ſhould ride, and being confined in winter
to go on the fame ftrand, he is forced to enquire from
every one he meets, whether the faid Lord be on the fame
strand; and to order his fervants to carry arms to de-
fend him againſt the like, or a worſe infult, from the
faid
DOCTOR
185
SWIFT.
faid Lord, for the confequences of which your Peti-
tioner cannot answer.
Your Petitioner is informed by his learned Council,
that there is no law now in being, which can juftify the
ſaid Lord, under colour of his Peerage, to affault any
of his Majeſty's fubjects on the King's highway, and
put them in fear of their lives, without provocation,
which he humbly conceives, that by only happening to
ride before the faid Lord, he could not poffibly give.
Your Petitioner, therefore, doth humbly implore
your Lordships in your great prudence and juftice, to
provide that he may be permitted to ride with fafety on
the ſaid ſtrand, or any other of the King's highways,
for the recovery of his health, fo long as he ſhall de-
mean himſelf in a peaceable manner, without being
put into continual fears of his life by the force and arms
of the faid Lord Blaney.
But nothing hurt Swift fo much, as the many inftan-
ces of ingratitude he experienced in thoſe who were
highly indebted to him, while he was in power. It has
been already fhewn, that he made it a point with the
Miniſtry in England, that no man of genius or merit,
ſhould be turned out of employment on account of
party: the fame maxim he extended to Ireland, where
he preſerved ſeveral in their places, who, but for his in-
terpofition, would infallibly have loft them. Of this
many inftances occur in the courſe of his letters. In
one to the Archbishop of Dublin, written in 1713,
when his influence was at the higheft, he fays, "I have
fuffered very much for my tenderneſs to fome perfons
of that party, which I ftill preferve; it would be end-
lefs to recount to your Grace the reproaches that have
been made me, on account of your neighbour." And
in another, "Neither did I ever fail to interpofe in any
cafe
186
THE LIFE OF
cafe of merit or compaffion, by which means feveral
perfons in England, and fome in this kingdom, kept
their employments; for I cannot remember my Lord
Oxford ever refufed me a requeft of that kind." He
therefore thought it extremely hard, that after ſuch in-
ftances of favour fhewn to numbers of that party, he
hould be particularly marked out as the chief objec
of their refentment: or, as he himself expreffes it in
the fame letter, "If my friendship and converſation.
were equally fhewn among thofe who liked or difap-
proved the proceedings then at Court, and that I was
known to be a common friend of all deferving perfons
of the latter fort, when they were in diftrefs; I cannot
but think it hard, that I am not fuffered to run quietly
among the herd of people, whofe opinions unfortu-
nately differ from thofe which lead to favour and pre-
ferment." But Swift, by his great abilities exerted in
the cauſe of the late Miniſtry, had rendered himſelf fo
obnoxious to the new men in power, that even to be of
his acquaintance, would, in thofe days, have been a
fure bar to promotion. Of this, there is a fingular in-
ftance communicated to me among other anecdotes ta-
ken down at that time by a friend of the Dean's. Swift,
in the height of party ferment, having fome occafion
to apply to Sir Thomas Southwell, who was one of the
Commiffioners of the Revenue, and with whom he had
lived on the footing of the greateft intimacy, was
much ſhocked by an anſwer he made him: "I'll lay
you a groat (a ufual cant expreffion of Sir Thomas's)
Mr. Dean, I don't know you." Some years after,
when the fpirit of party was a good deal abated, Sir
Thomas, who was then Lord Southwell,, riding on the
trand, and obferving the Dean on horſeback a little be-
fore him, lamented to one of his company the ill effects
of
party; among which he reckoned the lofs of that
worthy
DOCTOR SWIFT.
187
worthy man's acquaintance, meaning the Dean: but
I'll try, faid he, to recover it.
Dean, he asked him how he did.
When he overtook the
I'll lay you a groat,
my Lord, fays Swift, I don't know you.
In fuch a fituation of affairs, Swift chofe the moſt
prudent part, that of retiring wholly from the world,
and employing himſelf chiefly in the care of his Dean-
ery, in the diſcharge of his duty as a Clergyman, and
arranging his domeftic affairs, without once cafting his
eye towards the public. In a letter to Pope, dated Ja-
nuary 10, 1721, he gives this account of himſelf. "In
a few weeks after the lofs of that excellent Princefs, I
came to my ſtation here, where I have continued ever
fince in the greateſt privacy, and utter ignorance of
thofe events which are moſt commonly talked of in the
world. I neither know the names nor number of the
family which now reigneth, farther than the Prayer-
book informeth me. I cannot tell who is Chancellor,
who are Secretaries, nor with what nations we are in
And this manner of life was not taken
peace or war.
up out of any fort of affectation, but merely to avoid
giving offence, and for fear of provoking party-zeal *."
But
* The following anecdote taken down at the time by the fame gen-
tleman who communicated the former to me, will fhew how cautious
Swift was in his behaviour at that juncture, for fear of provoking
party-zeal, and at the fame time afford an inftance of his peculiar
vein of humour. Among other tyrannical acts of the Whigs, in
the first Parliament of George I. fuch Members of the Houſe of
Commons as had voted for an Addreſs in favour of Sir Conſtantine
Phipps, were ordered to beg pardon of the Houſe. This order was
generally complied with. Three who refuſed were taken into cuſtody
of the Serjeant at Arms: Sir Pierce Butler, Mr. Matthew Forde, and
Mr. Robert Cope. Swift, vifiting Cope one day, found Povey the Ser-
jeant at Arms, who was a perfect stranger to Swift's perfon, fitting with
him. After fome converfation, Swift afked Cope whether he did not
intend to go out that morning, as it was a fine day. Cope faid he
could
588
THE LIFE OF
But though in this Swift acted the part of a philofopher,
yet no one could feel more for the diftreffes of his for-
*ner friends, and the uncomfortableneſs of his own fitu-
ation. In a letter to Pope, June 28, 1715, he fays,
"You know how well I loved both Lord Oxford, and
Bolingbroke, and how dear the Duke of Ormond is to
me: and do you imagine I can be eafy while their ene-
mies are endeavouring to take off their heads? I nunc,
& verfus tecum medicare canoros. Do you imagine I can
be eaſy, when I think on the probable confequences of
thefe proceedings, perhaps upon the very peace of the
nation, but certainly of the minds of fo many hundred
thouſand good ſubjects?" And in one to Mr. Gay, he
ays, "I was three years reconciling myfelf to the
fcene, and the bufinefs, to which fortune hath con-
demned me, and ftupidity was that I had recourfe to."
In another to the fame, he gives this account of him-
Telf. "I would defcribe to you my way of living, if
any method could be called ſo in this country. I chooſe
my companions among thofe of leaft confequence, and
molt compliance: I read the moft trifling books I can
find, and when I write, it is upon the moft trifling
fubjects: but riding, walking, and fleeping, take up
could not ftir out, he was confined. Swift afked, had he taken phyfic?
Cope faid, no, but that he was confined by the Parliament, and was
then in cuftody of the Serjeant at Arms. Swift, with an air of
perfect ignorance, and fimplicity, enquired the meaning of that, as
if he had never heard of a Serjeant at Arms, or of any fuch power
in the Parliament; and foon after took his leave. When he was
gone, Povey faid it would be well for the Church and the kingdom,
if the Clergy minded ftate affairs as little as that honeft gentleman,
who he durft fay, was a good parish Minifter, refiding at his living,
and minding his own affairs, without troubling his head about thoſe
of the public. Pray what is his name? Swift. Is he any relation of
the Dean of St. Patrick's? The very man, fays Cope. The very
man! replied Povey; damn him, he has bit me, and left the room in
fome confafion,
eighteen
DOCTOR SWIFT.
189
eighteen of the twenty-four hours. I procrastinate
more than I did twenty years ago, and have ſeveral
things to finish, which I put off to twenty years hence."
In this manner did he paſs ſeven years of his life from
his arrival in Ireland, little known there as an author,
except on account of his political writings, which, in
that change of times rendered him an object of gene-
ral deteftation. There had been then no collection
made of his Works, and his detractors in England had
robbed him of the merit of his principal work, The
Tale of the Tub, by denying him to be the author.
Many calumnies were induftriouſly propagated againſt
him, taken from the writings of the hirelings on the
Whig fide, whereof the number was fo great, that
Swift in one place fays, that there were upwards of a
thouſand Papers and Pamphlets published against him
in the fpace of a few years. But, wrapped in the con-
fcioufnefs of his integrity, he had the fortitude to treat
all this with filent contempt. To counterbalance the
ill-treatment he met with from the public, he, by de-
grees, contracted an intimacy with a felect few, who
had tafte to relifh the author, and virtue to admire the
man *. He had alſo the ſupreme fatisfaction of con-
ftantly
In a paffage above quoted from his letter to Gay, where he
fays, I choofe my companions among thofe of leaft confequence,
and most compliance." We are to underſtand only foch humble
friends as were always at his devotion, to be let in, or fent away
without ceremony, according as he was in the humour. It was pra-
bably this paſſage which furnished Lord Orrery with an occafion of
exercifing his ufual difpofition to depreciate the Dean as much as pot-
faible, in the following paragraphs. "After the great names, which
I have just now mentioned, it is matter of aftonishment to find the
fame perfon, who had enjoyed the highest and the best converfation,
equally delighted with the loweft and the worit; and yet it is certain,
from Swift's fettlement in Dublin as Dean of St. Patrick's, his choice
of companions in general, fhewed him of a very depraved talle.”
• From
190
THE LIFE OF
ftantly enjoying the fociety of the amiable and accom→
pliſhed Stella, whofe converfation, by his own account,
was
"From the year 1714, till he appeared in the year 1720, a cham-
pion for Ireland againſt Wood's half-pence, his fpirit of politicks and
of patriotiſm was kept almoft clofely confined within his own breaſt.
Idleness and trifles engroffed too many of his hours: fools and fyco-
phants too much of his converſation.”
His answerer, Dr. Delany, fired with indignation at this falſe
charge, replies to him in the following manner:
"My Lord, you have been ſo grofsly abuſed, in the accounts which
dictated thoſe two paragraphs to you, that I am almoſt aſhamed to ſet
you right.
“The meaneſt man I ever heard of his converfing with during
that period, was Mr. Worrall, a Clergyman, a Master of Arts, a
Reader and Vicar of his Cathedral, and a Maſter of the Song. He
was nearly of his own ftanding in the College; a good walker, a man
of fenfe, and a great deal of humour. Mr. Worrall's fituation in the
Church, naturally engaged his attendance upon the Dean, every
time he went thither: and their walks naturally ended either in the
Dean's dining with him, or he with the Dean. But as the Dean was
a fingle man, the former happened more frequently and this in-
tercourſe at laſt ended in the Dean's dining with him, as often as
he pleaſed, at a certain rate, and inviting as many friends as he
pleafed upon the fame terms.'
>>
The Doctor then proceeds to relate his intimacy with the Grattans,
a numerous race of brothers, all in affluent or eafy circumftances, a
fet of men as generally acquainted, and as much beloved, as any one
family in the nation. After a particular deſcription of each of theſe,
he proceeds thus: "Thefe, my Lord, were men of open hearts, and
free fpirits who as little deferved, and as much difdained the cha-
racter and office of fycophants, as any Nobleman of your's, or any
nation. And yet thefe, with their allies, the Jackfons, &c. genteel,
agreeable, and well bred men and women, were the companions of
many of Swift's eafieft and happicft hours: fuch companions, as no
wife man ever wanted, or at leaſt would want, if he could help it;
any more than he would his night-gown, his couch, or his eafy chair."
"Whether the Grattans led Swift, or he them, into the acquaint-
ance of their friends, George Rochfort, and Peter Ludlow, I cannot
fay. But this I know, that he lived much with thoſe gentlemen, and
cultivated their friendship with a very diftinguiſhed affection, and
elteem:
;
DOCTOR
191
SWIFT.
was the moſt engaging of any he had ever met with, ei-
ther in man or woman. And he found in Dr. Sheri-
dan, that beſt cordial of life, a bofom friend, to whom
he could open himfelf without reftraint, in all humours,
and who was peculiarly calculated for the Bagatelle, of
which Swift at that time profeffed himſelf ſo fond, as
the only means of keeping up his fpirits in the gloom
that furrounded him. He had the pleafure of hearing
often from his former friends, whofe letters breathed the
fame cordial affection, and high efteem which they al-
ways profeffed for him. Among this number were Lord
Bolingbroke, Lord Harley, Mr. Addifon, Dr. Arbuth-
not, Prior, Pope, Lewis, &c. the Duchefs of Ormond,
and Lady Bolingbroke. In the year 1715, when Lord
Oxford was committed to the Tower, Swift wrote pref
efteem and it is certain, that they well deferved the higheſt regard
and diſtinction he could pay them.
Quales animæ neque candidiores terra tulit,
Nec queis te magis optaſſes amicum.
Such fouls! more candid never earth produced,
Nor whom you could more wifely with your friends.
"They were men of fortune, fcholars, men of parts, men of
humour, men of wit, and men of virtue Greater companions Swift
might have converfed with, but better he neither did, nor could.-
Let me add to theſe another gentleman, for whom the Dean had a
particular efteem, Matthew Forde, a man of family, and fortune:
a fine gentleman, and the best lay-ſcholar of his time, and nation."
Thefe, with the Fellows of the College, Dr. Walmsley, Dr. Hel-
fham, Dr. Delany, Mr. Stopford (now Biſhop of Cloyne) and Dr.
Sheridan, among the men: and Lady Eulace, Mrs. Moore, Lady
Betty Rochfort, and Mrs. Ludlow, Ladies fufficiently diftinguiſhed,
of the other fex; were, with Steila, and her friends, Swift's princi-
pal acquaintance and companions, during the period you mention, and
treat as the æra of his infamy.
I might mention fome others of very diftinguished characters, who
made up, I will not fay, that admired, but I can fay with truth, that
envied fociety, in which Swift paffed his life at that period. But, I
hope I have already faid fufficient to ſet you right.”
1
fingly
192
THE LIFE OF
fingly to him that he might be permitted to attend him
there. His letter begins thus. My Lord, it may
look like an idle or officious thing in me, to give your
Lordſhip any interruption under your prefent circum-
ftances: yet I could never forgive myfelf, if, after having
been treated for feveral years with the greateſt kindneſs
and diſtinction, by a perfon of your Lordship's virtue,
I ſhould omit making you at this time the humbleſt of-
fers of my poor fervice and attendance. It is the firſt
time I ever follicited you in my own behalf; and if I
am refuſed, it will be the first request you ever refuſed
me." But Lord Oxford, however defirous he might be
of the preſence of fuch a friend, whofe converfation
might contribute more than any thing in the world to
foften the rigour of confinement, was too generous to
put him to fuch an inconvenience on that account. Yet
immediately on his releaſe from the Tower, he expref-
fed his defire of feeing him in England, if it might be
confiftent with his affairs; in a letter full of the warmest
expreffions of friendship and affection.
August 6, 1717.
"Two years retreat has made me taste the converfa-
tion of my dearest friend, with a greater reliſh than
ever, at the time of my being charmed with it in our
frequent journies to Windfor. My heart is often with
you, but I delayed writing in expectation of giving a
perfect anſwer about my going to Brampton; but the
truth is, the warmth of rejoicing in thofe parts, is fo
far from abating, that I am perfuaded by my friends to
go into Cambridgeshire, where you are too juft not to
believe you will be welcome before any one in the
world. The longing your friends have to ſee you muſt
be fubmitted to the judgment yourſelf makes of all
circumstances. At prefent this feems to be a cooler
climate,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
103
climate, than your inland is like to be when they af
femble, &c. Our impatience to fee you, fhould not
draw you into uneafinefs. We long to embrace you,
if you find it may be of no inconvenience to yourſelf.
OXFORD."
Lord Bolingbroke's letters during his exile, are not
inferior to Lord Oxford's in expreffions of the higheſt
regard and friendship. In that of October 23, 1716,
are the following paffages." It is a very great truth,
that among all the loffes which I have fuftained, none
affected me more fenfibly, than that of your company
and correfpondence; and yet, even now, I ſhould no
venture to write to you, did not you provoke me to it.
Your letter breathes the fame fpirit, as your converfa-
tion at all times infpired, even when the occafions of
practising the fevereft rules of virtuous fortitude feemed
moſt remote. Adieu, dear friend; may the kindeſt
influence of Heaven be fhed upon you. Whether we
may ever meet again, that Heaven only knows if we
do, what millions of things fhall we have to talk over!
In the mean while, believe that nothing fits fo near my
heart, as my country, and my friends, and that among
theſe you ever had, and ever ſhall have, a principal
place."
In another letter he fays, "I know not whether the
love of fame increafes as we advance in age; fure I am,
that the force of friendſhip does. I loved you almoſt
twenty years ago; I thought of you as well as I do
now; better was beyond the power of conception; or,
to avoid an equivoque, beyond the extent of my ideas."
In the year 1717, Swift received a letter from Lewis,
giving him an account of the diftreft fituation of Prior's
affairs, and of a defign fet on foot by his friends to pu-
bliſh his Works by fubfcription, in order to his relief.
O
This
¿
194
THE LIFE OF
This gave him an opportunity of exerting that zeal,
for which he was fo remarkable, whenever the cauſe of
his friend, or diftreft merit, called upon him. Upon
this occafion he made ufe of all his influence to fo good
purpofe, that in a few months he fent him fuch a large
lift of fubfcribers, that Prior was aftonifhed at it. His
earneftnefs to ferve him, and to give him accounts of
his fuccefs in his follicitations, appears from the quick
fucceffion of letters fent by him on the occafion. Prior,
in anfwer to thefe, begins his letter of July 30, 1717»
thus. "I have the favour of four letters from you, of
the 9th, 13th, 16th, and 20th inftant;" and he con-
cludes his letter thus: "Pray give my fervice to all
friends in general. I think, as you have ordered the
matter, you have made the greater part of Ireland lift
themſelves under that number. I do not know how you
can recompenfe them, but by coming over to help me
to correct the book which I promiſed them."
What an inftance is here of the viciffitudes in human
affairs, when a man who had been Ambaffador Pleni-
potentiary to the Court of France, fhould, in the fpace
of a few years, be reduced to fuch a forry expedient (as
Swift terms it) to keep him above want!
During this period, Swift's pen feems to have been
thrown afide, or employed only in trifles, except two
Tracts drawn up by him foon after his fettlement in
Ireland: the one, intitled "Memoirs relating to that
Change which happened in the Queen's Miniftry in the
Written in October 1714." The other,
year 1710.
"An Enquiry into the Behaviour of the Queen's laft
Miniftry, with relation to their quarrels among them-
felves, and the defign charged upon them of altering
the fucceffion of the Crown." His view in thefe was,
to lay open all the fprings which moved the political
machine during that period; and to exonerate the Mi-
niftry
DOCTOR SWIFT.
195
niftry from that heavy charge, fo loudly and generally
made againſt them, of a defign to bring in the Pre-
tender. As he was a man more in the confidence of
that Miniſtry, than any other in the world; of a ſaga-
city not easily to be duped; a fincerity incapable of be
ing biaffed, and of moft undoubted veracity; there was
no one living fo capable of executing fuch a taík. And
when we examine the ftrength of argument with which
he has fupported his pofitions; when we reflect that
thefe Tracts were drawn up without any view of their
being published 'till after his death, and therefore could
anſwer no private end, the impartial world will neceffa→
rily be of his fide. Confident affertions, and loud cla-
mours of a party, unfupported by any proofs, though
fought for with all the diligence of perfevering malice
and revenge; however they may fpread for a time
through the fpirit of faction, will never prevail with an
unprejudiced poſterity, againft conclufive arguments,
ſupported by eſtabliſhed facts. To enlighten pofterity
with regard to thofe points, for he had no hopes of the
prefent age, was Swift's motive for leaving thofe pieces
behind him, and no doubt his end will be anſwered.
During almoſt fix years after his return to Ireland,
Swift kept his refolution of not meddling at all with
public affairs. He faw with indignation the cruel op-
preffion under which his country laboured, and with
the deepeſt concern, the miferable ftate to which it was
reduced But as he knew that all efforts to ftem the
torrent, during the violence of party, would be fruit-
lefs, he prudently waited 'till it had fpent its force. In
the year 1720, when the ferment feemed to have fub-
fided, he publiſhed his firft Political Tract relative to
Ireland, intitled, A Propofal for the univerfal Ufe of Irish
Manufactures. In which he cautiously avoids touching
upon party matters, and points out to the people of
O 2
Ireland,
196
THE LIFE OF
Ireland, that a great part of their poverty and diftref
was owing to their own folly, and that the remedy was
in their own hands. Of this Pamphlet, and the con-
fequences produced from it, he has given the follow-
ing account in a letter to Pope. "I have written in
this kingdom, a difcourfe to perfuade the wretched
people to wear their own manufactures, inftead of thofe
from England: this Treatife foon fpread very faft, be-
ing agreeable to the fentiments of the whole nation,.
except of thoſe gentlemen who had employments, or
were expectants. Upon which a perſon in great office
here, immediately took the alarm; he ſent in haſte for
the Chief Justice, and informed him of a feditious, fac-
tious, and virulent Pamphlet, lately publifhed with a
deſign of fetting the two kingdoms at variance; direct-
ing at the fame time, that the printer ſhould be profe -
cated with the utmoſt rigour of the law. The Chief
Juftice has fo quick an underſtanding, that he refolved,,
if poffible, to out-do his orders. The Grand Juries of
the county and city were effectually practiced with, to
preſent the faid Pamphlet with all aggravating epi-
thets, for which they had thanks fent them from Eng-
land, and their prefentments published, for feveral
weeks, in all the News-papers.-The printer was fei-
zed, and forced to give great bail. After his trial, the
Jury brought him in Not Guilty, although they had
been culled with the utmoſt induftry: the Chief Juftice
fent them back nine times, and kept them eleven hours;
until being perfectly tired out, they were forced to leave
the matter to the mercy of the Judge, by what they
call, a Special Verdict. During the trial, the Chief
Juftice, among other fingularities, laid his hand on his
breaft, and protefted folemnly, that the Author's de-
fign was to bring in the Pretender, although there was
not a fingle fyllable of party in the whole Treatife; and
although
DOCTOR SWIFT.
1-97
although it was known that the most eminent of thofe
who profeffed his own principles, publickly difallowed
his proceedings. But the caufe being fo very odious.
and unpopular, the trial of the verdict was deferred
from one term to another, until upon the Duke of
Grafton's, the Lord Lieutenant's arrival, his Grace,
after mature advice, and permiffion from England, was
pleaſed to grant a Noli profequi."
From this experiment Swift learned that the embers
of party, however concealed under afhes, might be re-
vived with the leaft breath, and blown into a blaze.
He therefore withdrew into his former retirement, after
having taken ample vengeance on the Chief Juftice,
by expofing him in the moft odious colours, and ren-
dering him an object of general deteftation. But what-.
ever efforts he ufed to fubdue his indignation at the
cruel acts of oppreffion and injuftice under which his
country laboured, by confining it within his own breaft,
yet his heart was conftantly corroded with the fcenes
of mifery which furrounded him; and his patriotic fpi-
rit, thus confined, proved only as an evil one to ter-
ment him. Of the effect which this had on his tem-
per, we have many inſtances in his letters. Dr. Delany
mentions a remarkable one, who calling on him one
day, when upon fome occafion he feemed in an uncom-
mon ſtate of irritation, being aſked by Swift, "Whe-
ther the corruptions and villainies of men in power, did
not eat his fleſh, and exhauſt his fpirits?" Anſwered,
that in truth they did not:" he then afked in a fury
why-why" how can you help it? how can you avoid
it?" Delany calmly replied, " becauſe I am commanded
to the contrary"-Fret not thyself becauſe of the ungodly.
As no work of his has appeared written during the
ſpace of near four years after his publiſhing the above-
mentioned Pamphlet, it is highly probable that his lei-
03
fure
198
THE LIFE OF
fure hours were wholly employed in writing Gulliver's
Travels. In which general fatyr on the vices, follies,
and abfurdities of mankind, he gave vent to that ſpleen,
which was in a continual ftate of irritation from the ob-
jects that furrounded him.
In the year 1724, an opportunity offered, which he
eagerly embraced, of difperfing thofe clouds, behind
which he had ſo long been concealed, and of blazing
forth in higher luftre than ever. At that time a project
was fet on foot by one William Wood, an obfcure man,
which, had it fucceeded, would have ended in the to-
tal, and perhaps irretrievable ruin of Ireland. A pa-
tent was granted to this man, in a moit extraordinary
manner, for coining half-pence for the ufe of Ireland,
without confulting any mortal of that kingdom, or
even giving any previous notice of it to the Lord Lieu-
tenant. Juftly alarmed at the confequences to be ap-
prehended from this, and fired with refentment at the
indignity with which they were treated, the Parliament,
Privy-Council, Grand Juries, and numerous bodies of
the inhabitants throughout the kingdom, fent over
ſtrong remonftrances againſt this proceeding, but all
to no purpoſe. The British Minifter, who had his own
views in promoting this favourite project, determined
to ſupport the Patent; and being then poffeffed of the
fame plenitude of power, with all the infolence of a
Turkiſh Vizier, was deaf to the remonstrances of the
nation, and refolved to cram the half-pence down their
throats. Though to be mafter of the fubject, it will
be neceffary to read all that Swift has written upon it,
yet it may not be amifs here to give a general idea of
the cafe, in an extract from a moſt maſterly addrefs to
both Houses of Parliament drawn up by him on the oc-
cafion. "There is one particular, which although I
have mentioned more than once in fome of my former
papers,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
199
papers, yet I cannot forbear to repeat, and a little en-
large upon it; becauſe I do not remember to have read
or heard of the like, in the hiftory of any age or coun-
try; neither do I ever reflect upon it without the utmoſt
aftoniſhment.
"After the unanimous addreffes to his facred Majefy
againſt this Patent of Wood, from both Houſes of Par-
liament; and likewife an addrefs from the Privy-Coun-
cil, to whom, under the chief governors the whole ad-
miniftration is intrufted, the matter is referred to a
Committee of Council in London. Wood and his ad-
herents are heard on one fide, and a few volunteers,
without any truft or direction from hence. The que-
ftion, as I remember, chiefly turned upon the want of
half-pence in Ireland: witneffes are called on behalf of
Wood, of what credit I have formerly fhewn: upon
the iffue the Patent is found good and legal; all his
Majeſty's officers here, not excepting the military, com-
manded to be aiding and affifting to make it effectual:
the addrefs of both Houſes of Parliament, of the Privy-
Council, and of the city of Dublin; the declarations of
moft counties and corporations through the kingdom,
are all together laid afide, as of no weight, confequence,
or confideration whatſoever, and the whole kingdom of
Ireland nonfuited in default of appearance; as if it were
a private Cauſe between John Doe, plaintiff, and Rich-
ard Rowe, defendant.
"With great refpect to thofe honourable perfons, the
Committee of Council in London, I have not under-
ſtood them to be our Governors, Counſellors, or Judges.
Neither did our cafe turn at all upon the queſtion,
whether Ireland wanted halfpence: for there is no
doubt but we do want both halfpence, gold, and fil-
ver; and we have numberlefs other wants, and fome
that we are not fo much as allowed to name, although
0 4
they
200
THE LIFE OF
they are peculiar to this nation; to which, no other is
fubject, whom God hath bleffed with religion and laws,
or any degree of foil and funfhine: but for what de-
merits on our fide, I am altogether in the dark.
"But I do not remember that our want of half-
pence, was either affirmed or denied, in any of our
addreffes, or declarations against thofe of Wood. We
alledged the fraudulent obtaining and executing of his
Patent; the baſeneſs of his metal; and the prodigious
fum to be coined, which might be increaſed by ſtealth,
from foreign importation, and his own counterfeits, as
well as thofe at home; whereby we muſt infallibly lofe
all our little gold and filver, and all our poor remainder
of a very limited and difcouraged trade. We urged
that the Patent was paffed without the leaft reference
hither; and without mention of any fecurity given by
Wood to receive his own half-pence upon demand,
both which are contrary to all former proceedings in
the like cafes.
"But in the name of God, and of all justice and
piety, when the King's Majefty was pleafed that this
Patent ſhould pafs, is it not to be understood, that he
conceived, believed, and intended it as a gracious act,
for the good and benefit of his fubjects, for the advan-
tage of a great and fruitful kingdom; of the moſt loyal
kingdom upon earth, where no hand or voice was ever
lifted up against him; a kingdom, where the paffage is
not three hours from Britain, and a kingdom where the
Papifts have lefs power and lefs land than in England?
Can it be denied or doubted, that his Majefty's Mini-
fters understood, and propofed the fame end, the good
of this nation, when they advifed the paffing of this
Patent? Can the perfon of Wood be otherwife regard-
ed, than as the inftrument, the mechanick, the head
workman, to prepare his furnace, his fuel, his metal,
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
201
and his ftamps? If I employ a fhoe-boy, is it in view
to his advantage, or to my own convenience? I men-
tion the perſon of William Wood alone, becauſe no
other appears, and we are not to reafon upon furmifes
neither would it avail, if they had a real foundation.
cr
Allowing therefore, for we cannot do lefs, that this
Patent for the coining of half-pence, was wholly in-
tended by a gracious King, and a wife public-spirited
Miniſtry, for the advantage of Ireland; yet, when the
whole kingdom to a man, for whoſe good the Patent.
was defigned, do, upon the matureft confideration,
univerfally join in openly declaring, pròtefting, addreſſ-
ing, petitioning againſt theſe half-pence, as the moſt
ruinous project that ever was fet on foot, to complete
the ſlavery and deſtruction of a poor innocent country:
is it, was it, can it, or will it ever be a queſtion, not
whether fuch a kingdom, or William Wood fhould be
a gainer, but whether fuch a kingdom fhould be wholly
undone, deſtroyed, funk, depopulated, made a ſcene
of mifery and defolation, for the fake of William
Wood? God of his infinite mercy avert this dreadful
judgment; and it is our univerfal wifh, that God would
put it into your hearts, to be his inftrument for fo good
a work.
"For my own part, who am but one man, of ob-
fcure condition, I do folemnly declare, in the preſence
of Almighty God, that I will fuffer the moſt ignomi-
nious and torturing death, rather than fubmit to re-
ceive this accurfed coin, or any other that ſhall be
liable to the fame objections, until they fhall be forced
upon me by a law of my own country; and if that fhall
ever happen, I will tranfport myſelf into fome foreign
land, and eat the bread of poverty among a free people.
"The great ignominy of a whole kingdom's lying
fo long at mercy under fo vile an adverfary, is fuch a
deplorable
202
THE LIFE OF
deplorable aggravation, that the utmost expreffions of
shame and rage are too low to fet it forth, and therefore
I ſhall leave it to receive fuch a reſentment, as is worthy
of a Parliament."
Upon the firſt tidings of the Patent's being paffed in
fo extraordinary a manner, Swift took
up the pen, and
under the feigned character of M. B. Drapier, repre-
fented all the fatal confequences that would neceffarily
attend the carrying of it into execution, in fo plain and
clear a light, as ſpread a general alarm through all ranks
and orders of men throughout the nation.
But as the Parliament, the Privy-Council, Grand Ju-
ries, and fo many bodies corporate of the kingdom ad-
dreffed, remonftrated, and petitioned against it, their
fears were at an end, as fuppofing it impoffible that theſe
ſhould not prevail. Yet what was their aftoniſhment to
find that all theſe, and the cry of the whole nation, were
treated with the utmost contempt, and a fham enquiry
fet on foot by a Committee of the Privy-Council in Eng-
land, which ended in fending over orders to all Officers
under the Crown in Ireland, to be aiding and affifting to
the utmoſt of their power in fupporting Wood's Patent,
and giving circulation to his accurfed coin. As all per-
fons in office at that time were in the moſt flavifh depen-
dance on the British Miniftry, there were no hopes but
that they would pay implicit obedience to the commands
of their maſters, eſpecially as they could do it under co-
lour of loyalty, as oppofing the Patent was called, in the
language of thoſe days, flying in the King's face. And if
this coin was once received into the publick offices, and
iffued out to pay the King's troops, the affair was over.
To prevent this there was but one way, which was to
raife fuch a ſpirit in the whole body of the people, as to
determine them never to receive one piece of this coin in
payment. This he fo effectually performed in a feries of
Letters,
DOCTOR
203
SWIFT.
letters, under the fame fignature of M. B. Drapier, which
were univerfally read over the whole kingdom, that there
was ſcarce an individual to be found, even down to the
lowest peafant, except a few placemen, who did not
form this refolution. And in order to bind them to it
more effectually, in his ſecond letter he drew up the fol-
lowing advertiſement. "Whereas one William Wood,
hard-ware-man, now or lately fojourning in the city of
London, hath, by many mifreprefentations, procured a
Patent for coining a hundred and eight thousand pounds,
in copper half-pence, for this kingdom, which is a fun
five times greater than our occafions require: and where-
as it is notorious that the faid Wood hath coined his half-
pence of ſuch baſe metal, and falſe weight, that they are
at beſt ſix parts in ſeven below the real value: and where-
as we have reaſon to apprehend, that the faid Wood may
at any time hereafter clandeftinely coin as many more
half-pence as he pleaſes: and whereas the faid Patent
neither doth, nor can oblige his Majeſty's fubjects to re-
ceive the faid half-pence in any payment, but leaves it to
their voluntary choice, becauſe by law the fubject cannot
be obliged to take any money, except gold or filver: and
whereas, contrary to the letter and meaning of the faid
Patent, the faid Wood hath declared, that every perfon
ſhall be obliged to take five-pence half-penny of his coin
in every payment: and whereas the Houfe of Commons,
and Privy-Council have feverally addreffed his moſt ſacred
Majefty, repreſenting the ill confequences which the faid
coinage may have upon this kingdom: and laftly, where-
as it is univerfally agreed that the whole nation to a man,
except Mr. Wood and his confederates, are in the utmoſt
apprehenfions of the ruinous confequences that muſt fol-
low from the faid coinage; therefore we, whofe names are
underwritten, being perfons of confiderable eftates in this
kingdom, and refiders therein, do unanimously refolve
3
and
204
THE
LIFE OF
and declare, that we will never receive one farthing or
half-penny of the ſaid Wood's coining; and that we will
direct all our tenants to refuſe the ſaid coin from any per-
fon whatſoever, of which that they may not be ignorant,
we have ſent them a copy of this advertiſement, to be read
to them by our ſtewards, receivers," &c.
Numbers of thefe advertiſements, figned by a multi-
tude of names, together with the Drapier's Letters, were
foon difperfed over the kingdom, and produced fuch a
univerfal outcry in all ranks of people against this odious.
project, that the poor tools of power did not dare to at-
tempt any thing in fuppert of it. But the English Mi-
niſter, not at all intimidated by this violent oppofition,
feemed refolutely bent on carrying the point. With this
view, he fent over the Lord Carteret, lately appointed
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, long before the ufual time of
the Chief Governor's going to that kingdom, with direc
tions to affemble the Parliament, which had been pro-
rogued to a diftant day, foon after his arrival, revoking
that prorogation, a thing very unufual. Here he was to
try the common methods of ſecuring a majority, in order
to get the fanction of the Iriſh Parliament to the meaſure.
On his arrival, a proclamation was published by his Ex-
cellency and Council, offering a reward of three hundred
pounds, for diſcovering the author of the fourth Drapier's
Letter. Harding, the Printer of that Letter, was impri-
foned, and a bill of indictment was ordered to be prepa-
red against him. Upon this occafion Swift wrote a fhort
Paper, called Seafonable Advice to the Grand Jury, &c.
copies of which were diftributed to every perfon of the
Grand Jury the evening before the bill was to be prefent-
ed, and had ſuch an effect, that the bill was unanimouſly
thrown out. Upon which the fame Lord Chief-Juftice,
who had before acted with fuch violence in a former pro-
fecution of the Dean's printer, in a moft arbitrary and il-
legal
DOCTOR SWIFT.
205
legal manner, difcharged the Jury in a rage. But this
proceeding, far from ferving the cauſe which he efpoufed,
only rendered it the more defperate, by exafperating
men's minds, already fufficiently provoked. For the
next Grand-Jury that was fummoned, not content with
fkreening the friends to their country, made a violent at-
tack upon the enemy, by the following ftrong prefent-
ment, drawn up by Swift, at the requeſt af fome of the
Jury.
The PRESENTMENT of the GRAND-JURY of the County
of the City of DUBLIN.
WHEREAS feveral great quantities of bafe metal, coin-
ed, commonly called Wood's halfpence, have been
brought into the port of Dublin, and lodged in feveral
houſes of this city, with an intention to make them pafs
clandeftinely among his Majefty's fubjects of this king-
dom, notwithſtanding the Addreffes of both Haufes of
Parliament, and the Privy Council, and most of the Cor-
porations of this city against the faid coin: and whereas
his Majeſty has been graciouſly pleaſed to leave his loyal
fubjects of this kingdom at liberty to take or refufe the
faid half-pence :
We the Grand Jury of the county of the city of Dub-
lin, this Michaelmas term 1724, having entirely at heart
his Majefty's intereft, and the welfare of our country;
and being thoroughly fenfible of the great difcouragements
which trade hath fuffered by the apprehenfions of the faid
coin, whereof we have already felt the difmal effects; and
that the currency thereof will inevitably tend to the great
diminution of his Majefty's Revenue, and the ruin of us
and our pofterity, do prefent all fuch perfons as have at-
tempted, or ſhall endeavour by fraud, or otherwiſe, to
impole
206
THE LIFE OF
impoſe the faid half-pence upon us, contrary to his Ma-
jeſty's moſt gracious intentions, as enemies to his Majeſ
ty's government, and to the fafety, peace, and welfare
of all his Majeſty's ſubjects of this kingdom; whoſe af-
fections have been fo eminently diftinguiſhed by their
zeal to his illuftrious family, before his happy acceffion to
the throne, and by their continued loyalty ever fince.
As we do, with all juſt gratitude, acknowledge the
fervices of all fuch patriots as have been eminently zea-
lous for the intereft of his Majefty and this country, in
detecting the fraudulent impofition of the faid Wood, and
preventing the paffing of his bafe coin; fo we do, at the
fame time, declare our abhorrence and deteftation of
all reflections on his Majefty and his government;
and that we are ready with our lives and fortunes to de-
fend his moſt facred Majeſty againſt the Pretender, and
all his Majesty's open and fecret enemies, both at home
and abroad.
Given under our hands, &c.
Upon this prefentment, followed by feveral others
in the different counties, the affair was looked upon as
defperate, and being reprefented in that light to the
Miniſter by Lord Carteret, the Patent was withdrawn,
and the half-pence fuppreffed.
Never was greater exultation fhewn upon any occa-
fion than appeared in the whole nation, upon the defeat
of this infamous project; the Drapier was hailed by the
univerfal voice as the faviour of his country. His
name refounded from fhore to fhore; his effigies was
fet up in every ſtreet; and innumerable bumpers were
daily fwallowed to his health.
Whoever examines the Drapier's Letters with atten-
tion will find, that the great talents of Swift never ap-
peared in a more confpicuous light than on this occa-
fion. He faw that a plan was formed by the Britiſh
Minifter
I
DOCTOR SWIFT.
207
Minifter to bring his country into the utmoft diftrefs.
Notwithstanding the apparent oppofition given to it by
the Irish Parliament and Privy-Council, he knew too
well the fervile difpofition of all men in office at that
time, and their abject dependance on the Minifter, to
fuppofe they would continue firm in their oppofition, at
the certain lofs of their places, if he was determined to
carry the point. He faw therefore no poffible means of
preventing the evil, but raiſing ſuch a ſpirit in the whole
body of the people, as would make them refolve on no
account whatſoever to receive this coin. His writings
in the character of a Drapier were in fuch plain lan-
guage, as rendered them perfectly intelligible to the
meanest capacities. His arguments were fo naturally
deduced, and in ſuch an eaſy ſeries, from fimple and
evident principles, as carried the fulleft conviction to
every mind. But as it was neceffary to his purpoſe to.
rouſe the feelings, as well as convince the underftand-
ings of mankind; without ever appearing to apply at all
to the paffions, he raises them to the highest pitch, by
feemingly cafual ftrokes here and there interfperfed. So
that the whole, on a tranfient view, appeared what it
profeffed to be, the work of an honeft ſhop-keeper, of
plain common fenſe, who ſtarted out of his fphere to
commence writer, upon a view of the imminent dan-
ger with which his country was threatened; and who
could not, now and then, in the courte of his argu-
ment, fupprefs the honeft indignation which rofe in
his breaft, at the unparalleled infolence of power, in
treating a great and loyal kingdom with fuch indignity
as would have been thought intolerable, even by the in-
habitants of the Ifle of Man. Yet plain and fimple as
thefe writings feem to be at firft view, and fuch as every
common Reader would imagine he could produce him-
delf, upon a clofer infpection they would be found to be
works
208
THE LIFE OF
works of the most confummate ſkill and art; and who-
ever ſhould attempt to to perform the like, would be
obliged to fay with Horace,
Sudet multum, fruftaque laboret
Quivis fperet idem.
I remember to have heard the late Hawkins Browne
fay, that the Drapier's Letters were the most perfect
pieces of oratory ever compofed fince the days of De-
mofthenes. And indeed, upon a comparifon, there
will appear a great fimilitude between the two writers.
They both made ufe of the plaineft words, and fuch
as were in moſt general uſe, which they adorned only
by a proper and beautiful arrangement of them. They
both made choice of the most obvious topics, which,
by the force of genius they placed in a new light. They
were equally ſkilful in the arrangement and clofenefs of
their arguments; equally happy in the choice and bre-
vity of their allufions: each fo entirely maſter of his art,
as entirely to conceal the appearance of art, fo that they
feized on the paffions by furprize. Nor were the effects
produced by the Orations of Demofthenes on the Athe-
nians, though fet off with all the advantage of a moſt
powerful elocution, greater than what followed from
the filent pen of Swift. For in a nation made up of
the moſt difcordant materials, who never before agreed
in any one point, he produced fuch a unanimity, that
English and Irish, Proteftant, Prefbyterian, and Papiſt,
ſpoke the fame language, and had but one voice. There
is one advantage indeed which Swift had over De-
mofthenes, in that admirable vein of wit and humour,
peculiar to himfelf, at which the other often made un
ſucceſsful attempts; and of which, though ſparingly,
we find ſome ſhining inftances ſcattered through thofe
Tetters.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
209
letters. One of which is fo excellent, that I am tempt-
ed to preſent the paffage to the Reader. Where,
ſpeaking in the affuined character of the Drapier, he
fays, "I am very fenfible that fuch a work as I have
undertaken, might have worthily employed a much
better pen but when a houfe is attempted to be rob-
bed, it often happens that the weakest in the family,
runs firſt to ſtop the door. All my affiftance, were fome
informations from an eminent perfòn; whereof I am
afraid I have ſpoiled a few, by endeavouring to make
them of a piece with my own productions; and the
reft, I was not able to manage. I was in the cafe of
David, who could not move in the armour of Saul,
and therefore I rather chofe to attack this uncircumcifed
Philistine (Wood I mean) with a fling and a ftone.
And I may fay for Wood's honour, as well as my own,
that he reſembles Goliah in many circumftances, very
applicable to the prefent purpoſe: for, Goliah bad a
helmet of brafs upon his head, and he was armed with a
coat of mail, and the weight of the coat was five thousand
fhekles of brafs, and he had greaves of braſs upon his legs,
and a target of brafs between his fhoulders. In fhort he
was, like Mr. Wood, all over brafs, and he defied the ar-
mies of the living God.- Goliah's conditions of combat,
were likewife the fame with thofe of Wood: if he pre-
vail againſt us, then ſhall we be his fervants. But if it
happens that I prevail over him, I renounce the other
part of the condition; he fhall never be a fervant of
mine; for I do not think him fit to be trufted in any
honeft man's fhop.'
Nothing fhewed the generalfhip of Swift in a higher
point of view, during this conteft, than his choice of
ground both for attack and defence. He well knew of
what importance it was to fteer clear of party; and that
if he had attacked the British Minifter as the real Au-
P
thor,
210
THE LIFE OF
thor, promoter, and abettor of this project, he would
immediately have been ſtigmatized with the name of
Jacobite, and his writings of courſe difregarded. He
therefore treated the matter all along as if there were no
parties concerned but William Wood hardware-man,
on the one fide; and the whole kingdom of Ireland on
the other. Or, as he himſelf expreffes it, it was Bel-
lum atque virum, a kingdom on one fide, and William
Wood on the other. Nay he went farther, and finding
that Wood in his feveral publications had often made
ufe of Mr. Walpole's name, he takes upon him the de-
fence of the latter in feveral paffages of his Fourth
Letter, which he concludes thus: "But I will now de-
monftrate, beyond all contradiction, that Mr. Wal-
pole is againſt this project of Mr. Wood, and is an en-
tire friend to Ireland, only by this one invincible argu-
ment; that he has the univerfal opinion of being a
wife man, an able Miniſter, and in all his proceedings
purſuing the true intereft of the King his Mafter: and
that as his integrity is above all corruption, ſo is his for-
tune above all temptation." By the ufe of this irony, a
double edged weapon, which he knew how to manage
with peculiar dexterity, his argument cut both ways.
To the bulk of Readers it might paſs for a real acquit-
tal of Mr. Walpole of the charge brought againſt him,
which would anſwer one end; and to thoſe of more dif-
cernment, it obliquely pointed out the true object of
their refentment; but this fo guardedly, that it was im-
poffible to make any ferious charge againſt the Author
of his having fuch a deſign.
In the course of thefe writings, Swift took an oppor-
tunity of laying open his political principles, declaring
the moft zealous attachment to the Proteftant fuccef-
fion in the Houſe of Hanover, and utter abhorrence.
of the Pretender: by which means he removed the
chief
DOCTOR SWIFT.
211
chief prejudice conceived against him, on account of
the ill-founded charge of his being a Jacobite, and
opened the way for that tide of popular favour which
afterwards flowed in upon him from all fides.
During the publication of the Drapier's Letters,
Swift took great pains to conceal himfelf from being
known as the Author. The only perfons in the ſecret
were Robert Blakely, his butler, whom he employed as
his Amanuenfis; and Dr. Sheridan. As Robert was
not the most accurate tranfcriber, the copies were al-
ways delivered by him to the Doctor, in order to their
being corrected, and fitted for the prefs; by whom they
were conveyed to the printer in fuch a way, as to pre-
vent a poffibility of difcovery. It happened that Ro-
bert Blakely, the very evening of the day on which the
Proclamation was iffued offering a reward of 300 pounds
for diſcovering the Author of the Drapier's Fourth Let-
ter, had ftaid out later than ufual without his Maſter's
leave. The Dean ordered the door to be locked at the
accuſtomed hour, and fhut him out. The next morn-
ing the poor fellow appeared before him with marks of
great contrition; when Swift would liften to none of
his excuſes, but abufing him outrageouſly, bade him
ftrip off his livery, and quit his houfe that moment.
"What you villain, faid he, is it becauſe I am in your
power, you dare take theſe liberties? Get out of my
houſe you scoundrel, and receive the reward of your
treachery." Mrs. Johnfon, who was at the Deanery,
and greatly alarmed at this fcene, immediately dif
patched a meſſenger to Dr. Sheridan, to come and try
to make up matters. Upon his arrival he found Robert
walking about the hall in great agitation, and fhedding
abundance of tears; enquiring into the caufe of this,
he was told that his Mafter had juſt diſcharged him.
The Doctor bade him be of good cheer, for he would
P 2
under-
212
THE LIFE OF
F
undertake to pacify the Dean, and that he ſhould ſtill
be continued in his place. That is not what vexes me,
replied the honeft creature; to be fure I ſhould be very
forry to lofe fo good a Maſter, but what grieves me to
the foul is, that my Mafter fhould have fo bad an opi-
nion of me, as to fuppofe me capable of betraying him
for any reward whatever. When this was told to the
Dean, ftruck with the generofity of fuch a fentiment
in one of his low fphere, he immediately pardoned
him, and restored him to favour *. He alfo took the
firſt opportunity in his power of rewarding this man for
his fidelity. The place of Verger to the cathedral foon
after becoming vacant, Swift called Robert to him,
and afked him if he had any cloaths of his own that
were not a livery; to which the other replying in the
affirmative, he defired him immediately to ftrip off his
livery, and put on thofe cloaths. The poor fellow,
quite aftonifhed, begged to know what crime he had
committed that he fhould be difcharged.-Well-do as
I ordered you faid Swift. When he returned in his
new drefs, the Dean called the other fervants into the
room, and told them they were no longer to confider
him as their fellow-fervant Robert, but as Mr. Blakely,
Verger of St. Patrick's cathedral, which place he had
beſtowed on him, as a reward for his faithful fervices.
The grateful creature poured forth a thouſand bleffings
on him, and only begged as the greateft favour he could
confer on him, that he might ftill be continued in the
fame ſtation, without fee or reward, as he was fure no
one could give fuch fatisfaction to Iris Mafter in the
diſcharge of it, as himſelf. As he was an excellent
* This ftory is told in a different manner by Mr. Deane Swift, with
feveral improbable circumftances, which have not, the leaft foundation
in truth, as I had the account exactly as I have related it immediately
from my father.
fervant,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
213
fervant, and was accuftomed to all Swift's peculiari-
ties, the propofal could not but be very acceptable to
the Dean; and Mr. Blakely accordingly continued to
officiate in that capacity for fome time, as a volunteer,
without any of the badges of fervitude. But the Maf-
ter was too liberal to accept of the generous propofal
made by the fervant; for, though he paid him no
wages, he took care by handfome prefents, to make
him a full equivalent.
Another anecdote, relative to theſe half-pence, was
communicated to me by Mr. Hofffleger, a native of
Germany, then a refident Merchant of fome eminence.
in Dublin; who was a fpectator of the following fcene
which he defcribed to me.
mation was iffued out
full levee at the caftle. The Lord Lieutenant was go-
ing round the circle, when Swift abruptly entered the
chamber, and puſhing his way through the crowd, ne-
ver ſtopped till he got within the circle; where with
marks of the higeft indignation in his countenance, he
addreffed the Lord Lieutenant with the voice of a
Stentor, that re-echoed through the room, "So, my
Lord Lieutenant, this is a glorious exploit that you
performed yeſterday, in iffuing a Proclamation againſt
a poor fhop-keeper, whofe only crime is an honeſt
endeavour to fave his country from ruin. You have
given a noble fpecimen of what this devoted na-
tion is to hope for, from your government.
fuppofe you expect a ftatue of copper will be erect-
ed to you for this fervice done to Wood. He then
went on for a long time inveighing in the bittereft
terms againſt the Patent, and difplaying in the ſtrong-
eft colours all the fatal confequences of introdu-
cing that execrable coin. The whole affembly were
ftruck mute with wonder at this unprecedented fcene.
The titled flaves, and vaffals of power, felt, and fhrunk
inta
The day after the Procla-
againft the Drapier, there was a
P 3
I
214
THE LIFE OF
into their own littlenefs, in the prefence of this man
of virtue. He ſtood fupereminent among them, like
his own Gulliver amid a circle of Lilliputians. For
fome time a profound filence enfued. When Lord
Carteret, who had liftened with great compofure to the
whole fpeech, made this fine reply, in a line of Vir-
gil's :
* Res duræ, & regni novitas me talia cogunt
Moliri.
The whole affembly was ftruck with the beauty of
this quotation, and the levee broke up in good humour.
Some extolling the magnanimity of Swift to the fkies,
and all delighted with the ingenuity of the Lord Lieu-
tenant's answer.
When the Patent was withdrawn, and of courſe all
apprehenfions about the coin were over, Swift retired
to Quilca, a houfe of Dr. Sheridan's, in a defolate part
of the country, where he paffed fome months in finiſh-
ing and preparing his Gulliver's Travels for the prefs.
Early in the next year 1726, he fet out for England,
after an abfence from that country of near twelve years.
He was received with all demonftrations of joy by his
old friends, whofe attachment to this incomparable
man, feemed rather increaſed than diminished by ab-
fence. They all expreffed the warmest wishes that he
would quit Ireland, and fettle among them, and ſeveral
plans were propofed to accomplish the point. Nor was
Swift lefs defirous of returning to his own country, for
he always confidered it as fuch, being the country of
his forefathers, though he happened, as he himſelf ex-
preffes it, to be dropped in Ireland: nor is it furprifing
that his heart yearned to pafs the remainder of his days
*
*Hard fortune, and the newness of my reign, compel me to fuch
meaſures.
!
among
;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
215
among a ſet of his old friends, who gave fuch proofs of
their unalterable attachment to him, and were, at the
fame time, in point of talents and genius, the foremoſt
men of the age. But, however ardent their wishes
might be, there were little hopes of their being fulfilled,
as both he and his friends were obnoxious to thofe in
power. Some expectations were however formed from
the favourable reception he met with at Leicester-houſe.
The Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline, fet
up for a patronefs of men of genius, and affected to
converfe much with all men diftinguished for literature.
and talents. Upon hearing of Swift's arrival in Lon-
don, fhe immediately fent to defire to fee him. Of
this he gives the following account in a letter to Lady
Betty Germaine, 1732-3." It is fix years laft Spring
fince I first went to vifit my friends in England, after
the Queen's death. Her prefent Majefty heard of my
arrival, and fent at least nine times to command my
attendance, before I would obey her, for feveral reaſons
not hard to guefs; and among others, becauſe I had
heard her character from thofe who knew her well.
laſt I went, and the received me very graciouſly." As
Swift was no refpecter of perfons, and would ſpeak his
mind with the fame freedom in the face of Royalty, as
in the moſt private company, the Princefs, ftruck with
the novelty of fuch a character, and highly entertained
with his peculiar vein of humour, was never weary of
fending for him both in London and Richmond; and
Swift, to keep up his confequence, never once attended
her but by command. Mrs. Howard, firſt Lady of the
Bed-chamber to the Princefs, and her chief favourite,
was the perfon who ufually fent for him. As fhe was a
Lady of fine talte, and uncommon underſtanding, fhe
foon contracted a high efteem for Swift, which was ma-
tured into a friendship, by the frequent opportunities
P 4
At
The
216
THE LIFE OF
i
ſhe had of converfing with him in company with Pope
and Gay, who were her great favourites. The peculiar
marks of diftinction fhewn him both by the Princefs
and her favourite, together with the general difcourfe
of the family at Leicefter-houfe, made his friends ima-
gine that the firft opportunity would be taken of making
a fuitable provifion for him in England, from that quar-
ter; and he himfelf, both then, and for fome time af-
ter, feems to have formed fome expectations of that
kind, though naturally and from his frequent difap-
pointments in life, he was far from being of a fanguine
difpofition.
During his ftay in England, his time was paffed
chiefly between Twickenham and Dawley, with his
friends, Pope and Bolingbroke, where he was vifited
by all the old fraternity. It was then Pope publiſhed
his Volumes of Mifcellanies, confifting of fome of his
own Works, and Arbuthnot's, but chiefly of felect
Pieces of Swift's. As this was the first time that any
of his Works were printed collectively, the fale was
immenfe, and produced a confiderable fum to Pope,
who had the whole profit, as Swift was at all times.
above making any pecuniary advantage of his writings.
During thefe tranfactions, he received feveral fucceffive
accounts of the defperate ftate of health, to which his
dear friend Mrs. Johnfon was reduced, and the little
hopes there were of her recovery. The diftrefs of
mind which he ſuffered on this occafion, together with
a long fit of his old complaint, giddinefs and deafneſs,
had fo totally difqualified him for fociety, that he ſtole
away from his hoft at Twickenham, and retired into
private lodgings, with an old relation for his nurfe. As
foon as he was fufficiently recovered to bear the fatigue
of a journey, he fet out for Ireland, with the gloomy
profpect of receiving the laft breath of the perfon
deareft
DOCTOR SWIFT.
217
However, before his de-
dearest to him in the world.
parture, he took leave of the Princefs, who was very
gracious to him, made apologies for not having fome
medals ready which fhe had promiſed him, and ſaid ſhe
would fend them to him before Christmas. On his ar-
rival in Dublin, he had the fatisfaction to find Mrs.
Johnſon on the mending hand, and her recovery,
though flow, afforded the pleafing profpect of a longer
continuance to a life fo dear to him.
During this viſit to London, it was not only at Lei-
cefter-houſe, but at St James's alfo, that he met with
a favourable reception; of which he makes mention in
a letter to Lady Betty Germaine, January 8, 1782-3.
"Walpole was at that time very civil to me, and fo
were all the people in power. He invited me, and
fome of my friends, to dine with him at Chelfea. Af
ter dinner I took an occafion to fay, what I had obfer-
ved of Princes and great Minifters, that if they heard
an ill thing of a private perſon who expected ſome fa-
vour, although they were afterwards convinced that the
perfon was innocent, yet they would never be recon-
ciled. Mr. Walpole knew well enough that I meant
Mr. Gay *. But he gave it another turn; for he faid
to ſome of his friends, and particularly to a Lord, a
near relation of your's, "that I had dined with him,
and had been making apologies for myſelf."
He afterwards had an interview with Sir Robert
Walpole, through the intervention of Lord Peterbo-
* To make this intelligible, it will be neceffary to quote a for-
mer paffage in that letter; where, fpeaking of Gay, he fays, " He
had written a very ingenious book of Fables for the uſe of her (the
Princefs's) younger fun, and fhe often promifed to provide for him.
But fome time before, there came out a libel against Mr. Walpole,
who was informed it was written by Mr. Gay; and although Mr.
Walpole owned he was convinced that it was not written by Gay,
yet he never would pardon him, but did him a hundred ill offices to
the Princefs."
rough ;
218
THE LIFE OF
rough; of which he gives the following account, in a
letter to the faid Earl.
* (
My Lord,
April 28, 1726.
"YOUR Lordſhip having, at my requeft, obtained
for me an hour from Sir Robert Walpole; I accord-
ingly attended him yesterday at eight o'clock in the
morning, and had ſomewhat more than an hour's con-
verfation with him. Your Lordship was this day plea-
fed to enquire what paffed between that great Minifter
and me, to which I gave you fome general anſwers,
from whence you faid you could comprehend little or
nothing.
"I had no other defign in defiring to fee Sir Robert
Walpole, than to repreſent the affairs of Ireland to him
in a true light, not only without any view to myself, but
to any party whatsoever and becauſe I underſtood the
affairs of that kingdom tolerably well, and obferved
the repreſentations he had received, were fuch as I
could not agree to; my principal defign was to fet him
right, not only for the fervice of Ireland, but likewiſe
of England, and of his own Adminiſtration.
"I failed very much in my defign; for I faw he con-
ceived opinions, from the examples and practices of
the preſent, and ſome former Governors, which I could
not reconcile to the notions I had of liberty; a poffef
fion always underſtood by the Britiſh nation to be the
inheritance of a human creature.
"Sir Robert Walpole was pleafed to enlarge very
much upon the fubject of Ireland, in a manner fo alien
from what I conceived to be the rights and privileges
Lord Peterborough, in a note to Swift, a little previous to the
date of this letter, fays, "Sir Robert Walpole, any morning, ex-
cept Tueſday and Thur/day, which are his public days, about nine
in the morning, will be glad to ſee you at his London houſe. On
Monday, if I fee you, I will give you a farther account.”
5.
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
219
of a fubject of England, that I did not think proper
to debate the matter with him fo much, as I otherwife
might, becauſe I found it would be in vain."
In the remainder of the letter, he enumerates the
many intolerable burdens and grievances, under which
that country laboured, and concludes it thus:
"I moſt humbly entreat your Lordship to give this
paper to Sir Robert Walpole, and defire him to read
it, which he may do in a few minutes."
I am, &c.
I thought it neceffary to lay this matter at large be-
fore the public, becauie, in confequence of this inter-
view, all the Walpolians, and the whole party of the
Whigs, gave out, that Swift at that time made a ten-
der of his pen to Sir Robert, by whom the offer was
rejected; and even to this day I am well informed that
fome of that family, and their connections, affert it as
a fact. But I would have thofe gentlemen confider, in
the first place, what little credit they do to Sir Robert's
underſtanding, in declining the affiftance of the firſt
Writer of the age, at a time when he was throwing
away immenfe fums upon authors of mean talents. In
the next place, it is to be hoped that candour will oblige
them to retract what they have faid, as fo convincing
a proof is here produced of the falfhood of the charge.
For, it is impoffible to fuppofe that Swift would have
made fuch a reprefentation of the interview, utterly
difclaiming all views to himself, and defiring that it might
be fhewn to Walpole, if the other had had it in his
power to contradict it, and by fo doing render him con-
temptible in the eyes of his noble friend, as well as of
all his adherents. I have a letter before me written at
that time to the Revd. Mr. Stopford, then abroad at
Paris, (afterwards through his means Biſhop of Cloyne)
in
220
THE LIFE OF
in which he gives the fame account. "I was lately
twice with the Chief Minifter; the firſt time by invita-
tion, and the ſecond, at my defire, for an hour, where-
in we differed in every point: but all this made a great
noife, and foon got to Ireland. From whence, upon
the late death of the Bishop of Cloyne, it was faid I
was offered to fucceed, and I received many letters up-
on it, but there was nothing of truth in it; for I was
neither offered, nor would have received, except upon
conditions, which would never be granted. For I ab-
folutely broke with the Chief Miniſter, and have never
feen him fince. And I lately complained of him to
the Princefs, becaufe I knew fhe would tell him." I
think it is hardly probable that Swift would have com-
plained of him to the Princeſs, if he had ſuch a ſtory
to tell of him. His complaint certainly related to
Walpole's unjuft and impolitic maxims with regard to
Ireland, which was the fole fubject of their difcourfe.
And it appears that he had often in his converfations
with the Princefs, reprefented the cruel hardfhips under
which that country groaned, infomuch, that in a letter
to Lady Suffolk, July 24, 173, he fays, "Her Ma-
jefty gave me leave, and even commanded me, above
five years ago, if I lived until fhe was Queen, to write
to her on behalf of Ireland: for the miferies of this
kingdom fhe appeared then to be concerned."
Sir Robert himſelf never dropped any hint of this to
Swift's friends, but in appearance feemed to wish him
well. In a letter from Pope to him foon after his de-
parture for Ireland, he tells him, "I had a conference
with Sir Robert Walpole, who expreffed his defire of
having feen you again before you left us: he faid, he
obferved a willingneſs in you to live among us, which
I did not deny; but at the fame time told him, you had
no fuch defign in your coming, which was merely to
fee
DOCTOR SWIFT.
221
fee a few of thofe that you loved; but that indeed all
thoſe wiſhed it, and particularly Lord Peterborough
and myſelf, who wiſhed you loved Ireland lefs, had you
any reaſon to love England more." Whoever examines
all Swift's letters at that time, will find, that he was far
from having any ambitious views. His wifh was to
have a fettlement among his friends; and he aimed no
higher than to change his preferments in Ireland for any
church living near them, that fhould not be much in-
ferior in point of income, whether accompanied with
any dignity or not. And this method of commuting
benefices he chofe, to avoid laying himſelf under any
obligations to a party, of whofe meaſures he fo utterly
difapproved. Of this we have a ftriking inftance in the
above-mentioned letter, to an intimate friend then
abroad, to whom a falſe repreſentation of his fenti-
ments could have anſwered no end; where he declares
that he would not accept even of a Bishoprick, though
offered him, except upon conditions, which he was fure
would never be granted. In a letter about that time
to Mr. Worral, he expreffes himfelf to the fame effect.
"As to what you ſay about promotion, you will find it
was given immediately to Maule, as I am told, and I
affure you I had no offers, nor would accept them.
My behaviour to thofe in power, hath been directly
contrary fince I came here." Is it poffible to conceive,
that in this difpofition of mind, a man of Swift's cha-
racter, ſhould wantonly put it in the power of a perfon
whom he knew to be his enemy, to deftroy his reputa-
tion, and ruin him for ever with his friends? In fhort,
the matter is brought to this iffue. It is evident from
what has been fhewn above, that Swift had but two in-
terviews with Walpole, the one in public, the other in
private. To what paffed in the former, there were ſe-
veral witneffes; to the latter, no one but themſelves.
Of
222
LIFE OF
THE
Of what then paffed between them, Swift has given a
diftinct account in a letter to Lord Peterborough,
which he defires might be fhewn to Walpole. If Wal-
pole afterwards reprefented any thing in a different light,
whofe teftimony is to be credited? That of a man of
long tried integrity, and undoubted veracity, giving
an account of a tranfaction, wherein he fuftained a part
exactly ſuitable to his whole character and conduct in
life or that of a wily Statefman, who ftuck at nothing
to answer his ends, charging Swift with a fact, utterly
incompatible with his well known wifdom and grandeur
of mind, and which must have fhewn him in the light
of a perfect changeling. But it does not appear that
Walpole himſelf ever made any fuch charge. Nor was
it neceffary; his end might be better, and more ſecurely
anfwered without it. Hints and innuendos were fuffi-
cient materials for his tools to work upon, and fabri-
cate what ſtories they pleafed, which were induftriouſly
propagated with the ftrongeft affeverations of their
truth, by all their partifans, and this was one favourite
method then in ufe, of undermining thoſe characters,
which they could not openly affault *. I have been the
longer on this article, becauſe it is the heaviest charge
* Of this there was a ſtrong inftance given in regard to William Ship-
pen; the honeftest man, and trueſt patriot that then fate in the Houſe.
When Walpole found, after repeated trials, that his virtue was proof
againſt all the offers he could make, it was given out by his emiſſaries,
that he privately received a penfion from him; and that he was per-
mitted to act the part of a patriot, in order to keep his influence with
his party, on certain occafions, that he might be of more effectual
fervice in matters of greater concern. And this report was fo in-
duftrioufly fpread, and with fuch confidence, that many gave credit to
it during his life. Nor were they undeceived till it was found that
after his death, this worthy man, who had lived with the utmoft fru-
gality, left no more behind him than his paternal eftate, which was
barely fufficient to intitle him to a ſeat in Parliament, and fifty pounds
in caſh, peculiarly appropriated to the charges of his funeral.
brought
DOCTOR SWIFT.
223
brought againſt Swift, and fuch as would at once deſtroy
the integrity of his character: and becauſe there never
was any calumny more induſtriouſly propagated by the
whole body of the Whigs, or more generally believed.
And this too not among the middling clafs of man-
kind, but by perfons of high rank and character. Of
which I have a remarkable inftance now before me, in
an anecdote communicated to me by Dr. Clarke, for-
merly my tutor in the College, among ſeveral others
collected by him relative to Swift, which is as follows:
"When Lord Cheſterfield was Lord Lieutenant of Ire-
land, I was prefent at his giving an account of Swift,
which, from a leſs creditable author, would be utterly
difbelieved. He faid, that to his knowledge Swift
made an offer of his pen to Sir Robert Walpole: that
the terms were, his getting a preferment in England,
equal to what he had in Ireland; and that Sir Robert
rejected the offer; which Lord Chefterfield faid he
would not have done, had he been in Sir Robert's
place. The whole of this tranfaction feems extremely
improbable, particularly what he added, that the per-
fon who introduced him was the famous Chartres."
Good Heavens! Swift brought by the notorious
Chartres to proftitute himſelf to Walpole, and this
afferted as a fact by Lord Cheſterfield! But his Lord-
ſhip kept very bad company in thofe days: I have not
the leaft doubt but this ftory was told him by Chartres,
and he confidored his brother gambler as a man of
honour.
Swift had fet out for Ireland in the month of Auguſt,
and early in the November following appeared Gulli-
ver's Travels. As he had kept a profound ſilence with
regard to this Work, nor ever once mentioned it to any
of his neareſt friends during his ftay in England, they
were at firſt in fome doubt whether it were his or not:
and
224
THE LIFE OF
!
and yet they concluded, as was done on a fimilar oc-
cafion, that it must be aut Erafmi aut Diaboli. They
all wrote to him about it, confidering it as his, and yet
at the fame time kept a reſerve, as having ſome reaſons
to be dubious about it. Gay, in a letter, November 17,
1726, writes to him thus. "About ten days ago a
book was published here of the Travels of one Gulli-
ver, which hath been the converſation of the whole
town ever fince: the whole impreffion fold in a week;
and nothing is more diverting than to hear the differ-
ent opinions people give of it, though all agree in
liking it extremely. 'Tis generally faid that you are
the author, but I am told the bookfeller declares he
knows not from what hand it came. From the higheſt
to the loweſt it is univerfally read, from the Cabinet
Council to the nurfery. You may fee by this you are
not much injured by being fuppofed the author of this
piece. If you are, you have difobliged us, and two
or three of your best friends, in not giving us the leaft
hint of it. Perhaps I may all this time be talking to
you of a book you have never feen, and which hath not
yet reached Ireland; if it hath not, I believe what we
have faid will be fufficient to recommend it to your
reading, and that you will order me to fend it to you.'
In like manner Pope fays, "Motte received the copy,
he tells me, he knew not from whence, nor from whom,
dropped at his houfe in the dark, from a hackney-
coach by computing the time, I found it was after
you left England, fo for my part I ſuſpend my judg-
ment." This proceeding of Swift's might at first view
be confidered as one of his whims, but that it was his
conſtant practice in all his former works of confequence,
which he fent fecretly into the world to make their own
way as well as they could, according to their intrinfic
merit, without any advantage which they might derive
from
DOCTOR SWIFT.
225
from the author's reputation. Nor was he ever known
to put his name to any of his publications, except his
letter to Lord Oxford about the English language. It
is probable he took great pleaſure in hearing the vari
ous opinions of the world upon his writings, freely de-
livered before him while he remained unknown; and
the doubts of Pope and Gay, occafioned by his pro-
found fecrecy on that head, must have given him no
fmall entertainment. However this extraordinary work,
bearing the ſtamp of fuch an original and uncommon
genius, revived his fame in England, after fo long an
abfence, and added new luftre to his reputation.
In his return to Dublin, upon notice that the fhip in
which he failed was in the bay, feveral Heads of the
different corporations, and principal citizens of Dub-
lin, went out to meet him in a great number of wher-
ries engaged for that purpofe, in order to welcome him
back. He had the pleaſure to find his friend Dr. She-
ridan, in company with a number of his intimates, at
the fide of his fhip, ready to receive him into their
boat, with the agreeable tidings, that Mrs. Johnſon
was past all danger. The boats adorned with ftreamers,
and colours, in which were many emblematical devices,
made a fine appearance; and thus was the Drapier
brought to his landing-place in a kind of triumph,
where he was received and welcomed on fhore by a mul-
titude of his grateful countrymen, by whom he was
conducted to his houfe amid repeated acclamations, of
Long live the Drapier. The bells were all fet a ringing,
and bonfires kindled in every ftreet. As there never
was an inſtance of fuch honours being paid to any mor-
tal in that country, of whatever rank or ſtation, Swift
muſt have been a Stoic indeed, not to have been highly
gratified with thefe unexpected, unfollicited marks of
favour, from his grateful fellow-citizens.
But
i
226
THE LIFE OF
But whatever fatisfaction he might have in his newly
acquired popularity, and the confequential power it
gave him of being of fome uſe to his country; yet the
long diſguſt he had entertained at the management of
all public affairs; the deplorable ſtate of ſlavery to
which the kingdom was reduced; the wretched poverty,
and numberless miferies, painted by him fo often in
ftrong colours, entailed by this means on the bulk of
the natives, and their pofterity; had long made him
refolve, when opportunity fhould offer, to change the
ſcene, and breathe a freer air in a land of liberty. His
laft fhort vifit to his friends ferved to whet his refolu-
tion, and revived the defire which he had of returning
to a country, where, as he expreffes himſelf in a letter
to Gay, he had paffed the beſt and greateſt part of his
life, where he had made his friendſhips, and where he
had left his defires. He was at a time of life too, be-
ing then in his fixtieth year, which called for retire-
ment, and afflicted with diforders which impaired the
vigour of his mind, and gave him frightful apprehen-
fions that the lofs of his mental faculties would precede
the diffolution of his frame. He had no ambition left,
of which we find, even in his prime, he had very little,
except that of the nobleft kind, arifing from a defire of
ferving the publick, and his friends, without any mix-
ture of ſelf. As his view was to make an exchange of
his preferments in Ireland, for fomething like an equi-
valent in England, though not fully equal to them in
point either of dignity or income, he thought the mat-
ter might be easily accomplished with but little intereft;
and this he had reafon to hope would not be wanting,
from the many hints he had received, that the Princefs
was very defirous of bringing it to bear. With this
view he kept up a correfpondence with Mrs. Howard,
in which feveral civilities, in his fingular way, paffed
to
DOCTOR SWIFT.
227
to the Princefs. He fent to the former a piece of Iriſh
filk, of a fabrick peculiar to that country, which the
Princefs, as foon as fhe faw it, feized on for her own
uſe, and defired that more of the fame kind might be
fent over for the Princeffes: this commiffion went to
him from Mrs. Howard, telling him at the fame time,
that ſhe would remit the coft, in what way he ſhould
judge ſafeſt: but Swift, as he expreffes himſelf in a
letter to Lady Betty Germaine, was too gallant to hear
of any offers of payment. He had received feveral
accounts from his friends, that the Princefs often ſpoke
of him with great regard. Among others, Dr. Ar-
buthnot ſays, "I had a great deal of difcourfe with
your friend, her Royal Highnefs. She infifted upon
your wit, and good converfation. I told her Royal
Highneſs, that was not what I valued you for, but for
being a fincere, honeft man, and ſpeaking the truth,
when others were afraid of fpeaking it."
As he had nothing to detain him in Dublin, Mrs.
Johnſon being to all appearance in a tolerable ſtate of
health, he fet out for London early in March. But
firſt gave notice to Mrs. Howard of his intended jour-
ney. From the following paragraph in this letter, we
may judge on what free terms he lived with the Prin-
cefs, and may form ſome idea of the familiar manner
of his converfing with her. "I defire you will order
her Royal Highnefs to go to Richmond as foon as ſhe
can this Summer, becauſe ſhe will have the pleaſure of
my neighbourhood; for I hope to be in London by the
middle of March, and I do not love you much when
you are there." Accordingly, on his arrival in Lon-
don, he never faw the Princefs 'till fhe removed to
Richmond; of which he gives this account in a letter
to Dr. Sheridan, May 13. "I have at laft feen the
Princess twice this week by her own command: the re-
Q 2
cains
238
THE LIFE OF
:
tains her old civility, and I, my old freedom." But
Walpole and his party kept no farther meaſures with
him, of which he makes the following mention in the
fame letter. "I am in high difpleafure with Walpole,
and his partizans. A great man, who was very kind
to me last year, doth not take the leaft notice of me at
the Prince's Court, and there hath not been one of
them to fee me." Perhaps the conſciouſneſs of the baſe
means they uſed to wound his character, might have
occafioned this change in their behaviour. For had the
charge laid againft him been founded, it would have
been a moſt unaccountable cauſe of quarrel to Swift on
the fide of Walpole's partifans, that he had offered his
fervice to that party, though its being rejected, might
be a juft foundation of refentment on his fide.
Swift had for fome time formed a deſign of paſſing
fome months in France for the recovery of his health,
and was just upon the point of carrying it into execu-
tion, when the unexpected news of the King's death
made him poftpone it. As a total change of meaſures.
was expected to follow from this event, more flatter-
ing proſpects were opened to him, than any he could
have in view during the late reign. As the Tories,
upon the breach between the late King and Prince,
were well received at Leicefter-houfe, it was fup-
poſed they would no longer be profcribed as for-
merly. Swift, in a letter to Dr. Sheridan, June 24,
1727, gives the following view of the ftate of af.
fairs at that time. "The talk is now for a mo-
derating ſcheme, wherein no-body ſhall be uſed worfe
or better, for being called Whig and Tory; and
the King hath received both with great equality,
fhewing civilities to feveral, who are openly known
to be the latter. I prevailed with a dozen, that we
fhould go in a line to kifs the King's and Queen's
hands.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
229
hands *. We have now done with repining, if we
fhall be uſed well, and not baited as formerly; we all
agree in it, and if things do not mend, it is not our
faults; we have made our offers: if otherwife, we are
as we were. It is agreed the Miniftry will be changed,
but the others will have a foft fall; although the King
muſt be exceffive generous if he forgives the treatment
of fome people †.".
Q3
In
* Swift fays, in a letter to Lady Betty Germaine, that on this oc-
cafion he was particularly distinguished by the Queen.
† It was generally ſuppoſed on the acceffion of the late King, that
Sir Robert Walpole would have been turned out of his employments
with difgrace, as it was well known that both the Prince and Princefs
had retained ftrong refentments against him, on account of fome parts
of his behaviour towards them, during the rupture between the two
Courts. Accordingly on the death of the old King, fome immediate
proofs were given that ſuch was the intention. Sir Robert was himſelf
the bearer of the tidings, and arriving in the night when the Prince
was a bed, fent to defire an audience, upon bufinefs of the utmoſt
confequence, which would admit of no delay. The Prince refufed to
fee him, and ordered him to fend in his bufinefs. Upon which he
gave an account of the death of the late King, and faid he waited
there to receive his Majefty's commands. The King ftill perfifted in
refufing to fee him, and bade him fend Sir Spencer Compton to him
immediately. Sir Robert now plainly faw his downfall had been pre-
determined, and haftened to Sir Spencer with humbleft tenders of his
fervice, begging his protection, and earneftly entreating that he
would ſkreen him from farther perfecution. When this ftory had got
abroad, the habitation of the laft Minifter became defolate, and the
whole tribe of courtiers, as ufual, crowded to the levee of the new
favourite. Yet, in no long ſpace of time afterwards, to the astonish-
ment of the whole world, Sir Robert was reinftated in his pofts, and
appeared in as high favour as ever. Various were the conjectures of
the people upon the means employed by him to fupplant his compe-
titor, and reinftate himfelf in full poffeffion of his power, while the
true caufe of this furprifing change, remained a fecret, and was known
only to a very few nor has it yet been publickly divulged to the
world..
Soon after the acceffion of George the First, it is well known the
Whigs divided among themfelves, and fplit into two parties in violent
oppofition
230
OF
THE LIFE
In the midſt of this buſtle, after viewing the ſtate of
things, Swift feems to have had by no means the fame
fanguine expectations that others of his party enter-
tained; for he fays in a letter to Dr. Sheridan, July 1,
1727." Here are a thouſand ſchemes wherein they
would have me engaged, which I embraced but coldly,
becauſe I like none of them." And having fome re-
turn of his diforder, he once more refolved for France.
་་
oppofition to each other. Sunderland, Stanhope, and Cadogan, were
the leaders of one fide; Townfhend, Walpole, Devonshire, and the
Chancellor, of the other. It happened at that time that the former
were victorious; and the difcarded party, in refentment, paid their
court at Leiceſter-houſe. Walpole had thought of a particular mea-
fure to diſtreſs their opponents, which he communicated to the heads
of his party; it was approved of, and fome of them thought that the
Prince ſhould be let into it; but Walpole would by no means agree to
this, and in his uſual coarſe way, faid, That the Prince would com
municate it to his wife, and that fat a- d bitch would divulge the
fecret. By fome means or other the Princefs was informed of this;
and it is to be fuppofed that the impreffion which fo grofs an affront
had made on the mind of a woman, and a woman of her rank too,
was not eafily to be erased. Manet alta mente repoftum, &c. After the
neceffary buſineſs upon the new acceffion had been finiſhed, the affair
of the Queen's fettlement, in caſe ſhe ſhould outlive the King, came
on the carpet. Her Majesty expected that it should be at the rate of
100,000l. a year; but Sir Spencer Compton would not agree to this,
and thought 60,ocol. an ample proviſion, and as much as could be
propoſed with any profpect of fuccefs. While this diſpute fubfifted,
Sir Robert Walpole found means to acquaint the Queen privately by
one of his confidents, that if he were Minifter, he would undertake to
ſecure to her the fettlement fhe demanded. Upon which the Qucen
fent him back this remarkable anfwer; "Go tell Sir Robert that the fat
-d bitch has forgiven him." He was accordingly, foon after, by
the well-known afcendancy which the Queen had over the King, de-
clared firſt Miniſter; and Sir Spencer Compton removed to the Upper
Houfe, with the title of Earl of Wilmington.
a
This anecdote was communicated to me by the late Dr. Campbel,
who was well known to have pried more into the fecret fprings of
action, and to have had better opportunities of being informed of
them, than most men of his time.
But,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
235
But, as he fays himſelf, he was with great vehemence
diffuaded from it by certain perfons, whom he could not
difobey. Theſe were Lord Bolingbroke, and Mrs.
Howard. The former writes thus to him, in a letter
June 24, 1727: "There would not be common fenfe
in your going into France at this juncture, even if you
intended to ſtay there long enough to draw the fole
pleaſure and profit which I propofe you ſhould have in
the acquaintance I am ready to give you there. Much
lefs ought you to think of fuch an unmeaning journey,
when the opportunity of quitting Ireland for England,
is, I believe, fairly before you." Of what paffed be-
tween him and Mrs. Howard, he gives the following
account in a letter to Lady Betty Germaine: "In a few
weeks after the King's death, I found myſelf not well,
and was refolved to take a trip to Paris for my health,
having an opportunity of doing it with fome advantages
and recommendations. But my friends adviſed me firſt
to confult Mrs. Howard, becauſe as they knew leſs of
Courts than I, they were ftrongly poffeffed that the pro-
mife made me might fucceed, fince a change was all I
defired. I writ to her for her opinion; and particu-
larly conjured her, fince I had long done with Courts,
not to uſe me like a Courtier, but give me her fincere
advice, which he did, both in a letter, and to fome
friends. It was, CC
By all means not to go; it would
look fingular, and perhaps difaffected; and my friends.
enlarged upon the good intentions of the Court towards
me." Upon this Swift gave up his intended journey,
and reſolved to wait the iffue of the prefent conjunc-
ture; though from his long acquaintance with Courts,
and frequent difappointments, he put no great confi-
dence in the affurances given him. But he was foon
obliged to alter his meaſures; for being attacked with
a long and violent fit of his old complaint, and at the
Q4
fame
233
THE LIFE OF
fame time receiving alarming accounts from Ireland,
that Mrs. Johnfon had relapfed, with little hopes of her
recovery, he fet out for that kingdom, on the firſt
abatement of his illnefs. Before his departure he took
leave of the Queen in a polite letter to Mrs. Howard,
apologifing for not doing it in perfon in the following
paffage: "I am infinitely obliged to you for all your
civilities, and fhall retain the remembrance of them
during my life. I hope you will favour me ſo far as
to prefent my moft humble duty to the Queen, and to
defcribe to her Majefty my forrow, that my diforder was
of fuch a nature, as to make me incapable of attend-
ing her, as fhe was pleafed to permit me.
I fhall pass
the remainder of my life with the utmoft gratitude for
her Majeſty's favours," &c.
On his arrival in Dublin he found Mrs. Johnſon in
the laſt ſtage of a decay, without the fmalleft hope of
her recovery. He had the mifery of attending her in
this ftate, and of daily feeing the gradual advances of
death during four or five months; and in the month of
January he was deprived, as he himself expreffes it, of
the trueft, moft virtuous, and valuable friend, that he,
or perhaps any other perfon was ever bleffed with. Such
a lofs at his time of life was irreparable. She had been
trained by him from her childhood, and had been his
conftant companion for five-and-thirty years, with every
merit towards him that it was poffible for one human
creature to have towards another. His whole plan of
life was now changed, and with it all his domeftic com-
forts vanished. The only chance he could have had of
enjoying the remainder of his days with any fatisfac-
tion, would have been the carrying into execution his
propofed removal to England, to live among his old
friends; but he foon found that all expectations from
that quarter were at an end. In this forlorn ftate he
found
DOCTOR SWIFT.
233
found himself doomed to pafs the remnant of his life
in exile, in a country which was one of the laſt he
would have chofen for his abode. But his fpirit was
too great to give way to defpondence; and deprived as
he was of the chief comforts which might alleviate the
evils attendant on encreafing years; difappointed in
the only view which could make him look forward with
hopes of any fatisfaction or enjoyment to himfelf; he
turned his thoughts wholly to the good and happineſs
of others. With this view he entered more earneſtly
into a twofold ſcene of action: one with regard to the
public at large; the other, with refpect to private indi-
viduals. In the former, out of compaflion to the
blindneſs and infatuation of the people, he laid open,
in a variety of publications, the chief fources of the
diftreffes and miferies under which that unhappy coun-
try laboured; at the fame time pointing out the means
by which they might be alleviated, or removed. In
the latter, he increaſed his attention to fome of the beſt
planned, and beſt conducted charities, that ever were
fupported from a private purfe. In this refpect, there
probably was no man in the Britiſh dominions, who ei-
ther gave fo much in proportion to his fortune, or dif
pofed of it to fuch advantage. From the time he was
out of debt, after his fettlement at the deanery, he di-
vided his income into three equal fhares. One of
thefe he appropriated to his own immediate fupport,
and his domeftic expences; which, in thofe cheap
times, with the aid of ftrict ceconomy, enabled him to
live in a manner perfectly agreeable to his own ideas,
and not unſuitable to his rank. The fecond he laid up
as a provifion against the accidents of life, and ulti-
mately with a view to a charitable foundation at his
death. And the third, he conftantly difpofed of in
charities to the poor, and liberalities to the diftreffed.
As
234
THE LIFE OF
As he fought out proper objects for this, with great
caution and attention, trufting little to the reprefenta-
tion of others, but feeing every thing with his own
eyes, perhaps no equal fum difpofed of in that way was
ever productive bf fo much good. There was one ſpe-
cies of charity firft ftruck out by him, which was at-
tended with the greateſt benefit to nnmbers of the loweſt
clafs of tradefmen. Soon after he was out of debt,
the firſt five hundred pounds which he could call his
own, he lent out to poor induftrious tradefien in ſmall
fums of five, and ten pounds, to be repaid weekly, at
two or four fhillings, without intereft. As the fums
thus weekly paid in, were lent out again to others at a
particular day in each month, this quick circulation
doubled the benefit arifing from the original fum. In
order to infure this fund from diminution, he laid it
down as a rule that none should be partakers of it, who
could not give good fecurity for the regular repayment
of it in the manner propofed: for it was a maxim
with him, that any one known by his neighbours to be
an honeſt, ſober, and induſtrious man, would readily
find fuch fecurity; while the idle and diffolute would
by this means be excluded. Nor did they who entered.
into fuch fecurities run any great rifque; for if the bor-
rower was not punctual in his weekly payments, imme-
diate notice of it was fent to them, who obliged him
to be more punctual for the future. Thus did this fund
continue undiminiſhed to the laft; and fmall as the
fpring was, yet, by continual flowing, it watered and
enriched the humble vale through which it ran, ftill
extending and widening it's courfe. I have been well
affured from different quarters, that many families in
Dublin, now living in great credit, owed the founda-
tion of their fortunes, to the fums first borrowed from
this fund.
His
DOCTOR SWIFT.
235
His reputation for wiſdom and integrity was fo great,
that he was confulted by the feveral corporations in all
matters relative to trade, and chofen umpire of any
differences among them, nor was there ever any appeal
from his fentence. In a city where the police was per-
haps on a worſe footing than that of any in Europe, he
in a great meaſure fupplied the deficiency, by his own
perfonal authority, taking notice of all public nuifan-
ces, and feeing them removed. He affumed the office
of Cenfor General, which he rendered as formidable as
that of ancient Rome. In fhort, what by the acknow-
ledged fuperiority of his talents, his inflexible integrity,
and his unwearied endeavours in ferving the public, he
obtained fuch an afcendancy over his countrymen, as
perhaps no private citizen ever attained in any age or
country. He was known over the whole kingdom by
the title of THE DEAN, given to him by way of pre-
eminence, as it were by common confent; and when
THE DEAN was mentioned, it always carried with it the
idea of the firſt and greatest man in the kingdom. THE
DEAN faid this; THE DEAN did that; whatever he faid
or did was received as infallibly right; with the fame
degree of implicit credit given to it, as was paid to the
Stagyrite of old, or to the modern Popes. We may
judge of the greatnefs of his influence, from a paſſage.
in a letter of Lord Carteret to him, March 24, 1732,
who was at that time Chief Governor of Ireland, "I
know by experience how much the City of Dublin
thinks itſelf under your protection; and how ftrictly
they uſed to obey all orders fulminated from the fove-
reignty of St. Patrick's." And in the poftfcript to an-
other of March 24, 1736, he fays, "When people afk
me how I governed Ireland? I fay, that I pleafed Dr.
Swift."
tr
But great as his popularity was, it was chiefly con-
fined to the middling, and lower clafs of mankind. To
the
236
THE LIFE OF
the former of thefe his chief applications were made,
upon a maxim of his own, "That the little virtue left
in the world, is chiefly to be found among the middle
rank of mankind, who are neither allured out of her
paths by ambition, nor driven by poverty."
All of this clafs he had fecured almost to a man.
And by the lower ranks, and rabble in general, he was
reverenced almoft to adoration. They were poffeffed
with an enthufiaftic love to his perfon, to protect which
they would readily hazard their lives; yet on his ap-
pearance among them, they felt fomething like a reli-
gious awe, as if in the prefence of one of a fuperior
order of beings. At the very fight of him, when en-
gaged in any riotous proceedings, they would inftantly
fly different ways, like fchool-boys at the approach of
their mafter; and he has been often known, with a
word, and lifting up his arm, to difperfe mobs, that
would have ftood the brunt of the Civil and Military
power united.
As to the upper clafs of mankind, he looked upon
them as incorrigible, and therefore had fcarce any in-
tercourfe with them. He fays himself, that he had
Hittle perfonal acquaintance with any Lord Spiritual or
Temporal in the kingdom; and he confidered the
Members of the Houle of Commons in general, as a
fet of venal proftitutes, who facrificed their principles,
and betrayed the interefts of their country, to gratify
their ambition or avarice. With thefe he lived in a
continued ſtate of warfare, making them feel feverely
the harp ftings of his fatyr; while they, on the other
hand, dreading, and therefore hating him more than
any man in the world, endeavoured to retaliate on him
by every fpecies of obloquy.
During this period, his faculties do not feem to have
been at all impaired by the near approaches of old age,
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
2.37
and his poetical fountain, though not fo exuberant as
formerly, ftill flowed in as clear and pure a ftream.
One of his laft Pieces, Verfes on his own Death, is per-
haps one of the moſt excellent of his compofitions in
that way. Nor are two of his other productions, writ-
ten about the fame time, entitled, "An Epistle to a
Lady;” and “A Rhapfody on Poetry," inferior to any
of his former Pieces. The two laft were written chiefly
with a view to gratify his refentment to the Court, on
account of ſome unworthy treatment he met with from
that quarter. We have already ſeen, by what extraor-
dinary advances on her part, he was allured to pay his
attendance on the Princefs, during his two laft vifits to
England; and the feemingly well founded expectations
of his friends, that fome marks of royal favour would
be fhewn him, both from the uncommonly good re-
ception he had always met with, and the many affu-
rances given to that effect. But from the time that the
Princess mounted the throne, all this was forgot. Nor
was this productive of any diſappointment to Swift,
who had been too converfant with Courts, not to look
upon the most favourable appearances there, with dif
truft. Accordingly on his laft return to Ireland, find-
ing himſelf fo utterly neglected by the Queen, as not
even to receive fome medals which he had promifed
him, he gave up all hopes of that kind, and remained
in a ſtate of perfect indifference with regard to it. But,
when he found that his enemies had been bufy, inftil-
ling into the royal ear many prejudices againſt him, he
entered upon his defence with his ufual ſpirit. Among
other artifices employed to leffen him in her Majefty's
eſteem, there were three forged letters delivered to the
Queen figned with his name, written upon a very ab-
furd ſubject, and in a very unbecoming ftyle, which the
either did, or affected to believe to be genuine. Swift
3
had
238
THE LIFE OF
?
had notice of this from his friend Pope, who pro-
cured one of the original letters from the Countess
of Suffolk, formerly Mrs. Howard, and fent it to him.
In his indignant anſwer to Pope on this occafion, he has
the following paffages. "As for thoſe three letters you
mention, fuppofed all to be written by me to the Queen,
on Mrs. Barber's account, efpecially the letter which
bears my name; I can only fay, that the apprehenfions
one may be apt to have of a friend's doing a fooliſh
thing, is an effect of kindnefs: and God knows who is
free from playing the fool fometime or other. But in
fuch a degree as to write to the Queen, who has uſed
me ill without any caufe, and to write in fuch a man-
ner as the letter you fent me, and in fuch a ſtyle, and
to have fo much zeal for one almoſt a ſtranger, and to
make fuch a defcription of a woman, as to prefer her
before all mankind; and to inftance it as one of the
greateſt grievances of Ireland, that her Majefty has
not encouraged Mrs. Barber, a woollen draper's wife
declined in the world, becauſe ſhe has a knack of verfi-
fying; was to fuppofe, or fear, a folly fo tranfcendent,
that no man could be guilty of, who was not fit for Bed-
lain. You know the letter you fent inclofed is not my
hand, and why I fhould difguife my hand, and yet fign
my name, is unaccountable. If the Queen had not an
inclination to think ill of me, fhe knows me too well
to believe in her own heart that I fhould be fuch a cox-
comb," &c.
In his letter to Mrs. Howard, then Countefs of Suf-
folk, he fays, "I find from ſeveral inftances that I am
under the Queen's difpleafure; and as it is ufual among
Princes, without any manner of reafon. I am told,
there were three letters fent to her Majefty in relation
to one Mrs. Barber, who is now in London, and foli-
citing for a fubfcription to her poems. It feems, the
Queen
DOCTOR SWIFT.
239
Queen thinks that thefe letters were written by me;
and I fcorn to defend myſelf even to her Majeſty,
grounding my fcorn upon the opinion I had of her
juftice, her tafte, and good fenfe: efpecially when the
laſt of thoſe letters, whereof I have juft received the
original from Mr. Pope, was figned with my name :
and why I ſhould diſguiſe my hand, which you know
very well, and yet write my name, is both ridiculous
and unaccountable. I am fenfible I owe a great deal
of this ufage to Sir Robert Walpole," &c. In this,
as well as many other paffages of his letters at that
time, we ſee he attributes the ill offices done him with
the Queen, chiefly to Walpole; and accordingly he
determined to keep no farther meaſures with him, but
gave full ſcope to his refentment, in thofe Poems, as
well as feveral other Pieces publiſhed afterwards. Up-
on the first appearance of the two Poems, entitled An
Epistle to a Lady, and A Rhapsody on Poetry, Wal-
pole was exaſperated to the higheſt degree. The edi-
tor, printer, and publiſhers, were all taken up, and
proſecutions commenced againſt them. As he had full
proof that Swift was the author, in his firſt tranſport
of paffion, he determined to get him into his clutches,
and wreak his chief vengeance on him *. With this
* Theſe poems were ſent to Mrs. Barber, then in London, by one
Pilkington, in order that he might make what advantage the could
by the fale of them, being a woman of merit, rather in diftreffed cir-
cumftances. This Pilkington at the fame time carried letters of
recommendation from Swift to Alderman Barber, Lord Mayor elect,
by whom, in confequence of fuch recommendation, he was appointed
City Chaplain. Yet this man had the bafeneſs to turn informer
againſt his patron and benefactor, as the author, and Mrs. Barber,
as the editor: who thereupon was confined for fome time in the
houſe of a King's Meffenger. But, as upon examination, the Gen-
tlemen of the Long Robe could difcover nothing in the poems that
could come under the denomination of a Libel, or incur any legal
punishment, ſhe and the publifhers were releafed, and the profecution
dropt.
2
view
240
THE LIFE OF
F
view he had ordered a warrant to be made out by the
Secretary of State, for apprehending Swift, and bring-
ing him over to be tried in London. The meſſenger
was in waiting ready to be difpatched on this errand,
when luckily a friend of Walpole's, who was better ac-
quainted with the ftate of Ireland, and the high vene-
ration in which the Dean was held there, accidentally
entered, and upon enquiry, being informed of his pur-
pofe, coolly aſked him what army was to accompany
the meffenger, and whether he had at that time ten
thousand men to fpare, for he could affure him no leſs
a number would be able to bring the Drapier out of the
kingdom by force. Upon this Walpole recovered his
fenfes, and luckily for the Meffenger, as well as him-
felf, dropped the defign. For had the poor fellow ar-
rived in Dublin, and attempted to execute his com-
miffion, he would moſt affuredly have been immedi-
ately hanged by the mob: and this might have involved
the two countries in a conteft, which it was by no means
the intereſt of a Miniſter to engage in.
But, whatever gratification it might have been to his
ambitious fpirit, to fee himfelf raifed by the voluntary
fuffrages of his countrymen, to a rank beyond the power
of Monarchs to beftow; to find himself confidered by all
as the first man in the realm; the general object of vene-
ration to all who wifhed well to their country, and of
dread to thoſe who betrayed its interefts; yet he was far
from being at all fatisfied with his fituation. The load
of oppreffion under which Ireland groaned, from the ty-
rannic fyftem of government over that country, eſtabliſh-
ed by the falfe politics of England; the bafe corruption
of fome of the principal natives, who facrificed the pub-
lick interefts to their private views; the fupinenefs of o-
thers arising from defpondency; the general infatuation
of the richer fort, in adopting certain modes and cuſtoms
a-
to
DOCTOR SWIFT.
241
In one
to the laſt degree ruinous to their country; together with
the miſeries of the poor, and the univerfal face of penury
and diſtreſs that overfpread a kingdom, on which nature.
had ſcattered her bounties with a lavish hand, and which
properly uſed, might have rendered it one of the hap-
pieft regions in the world: all thefe acted as perpetual
corrofives to the free and generous fpirit of Swift, and
kept him from poffeffing his foul in peace. We have
many inſtances in his letters, written at that time, of the
violent irritation of his mind on theſe accounts.
of them he fays, "I find myfelf difpofed every year, or
rather every month, to be more angry and revengeful;
and my rage is fo ignoble, that it defcends even to re-
fent the folly and bafenefs of the enſlaved people among
whom I live." And in the fame letter to Lord Boling-
broke, he fays, "But you think, as I ought to think,
that it is time for me to have done with the world; and
fo I would, if I could get into a better, before I was
called into the beft, and not die here in a rage, like a
poiſoned rat in a hole." In one to Pope, fpeaking of his
letters, he fays, "None of them have any thing to do
with party, of which
of which you are the cleareft of all men, by
your religion, and the whole tenor of your life: while I
am raging every moment againſt the corruptions in both
kingdoms, eſpecially of this; fuch is my weakneſs. And
in one to Dr. Sheridan, when he feemed under the domi-
nion of a more than ordinary fit of his fpleen, he tells
him that he had juſt finiſhed his will, in which he had re-
queſted that the Doctor would attend his body to Holy-
head, to fee it interred there, for, fays he, I will not lie
in a country of flaves. This habit of mind grew upon
him immediately after the lofs of the amiable Stella,
whoſe lenient hand uſed to pour the balm of friendſhip on
his wounded ſpirit. With her vanished all his domeftic
enjoyments, and of courfe he turned his thoughts more
R
to
242
OF
THE LIFE
to publick affairs; in the contemplation of which, he
could fee nothing but what ſerved to increaſe the malady.
The advances of old-age, with all its attendant infirmities;
the death of almoft all his old friends; the frequent re-
turns of his moft difpiriting maladies, deafnefs and gid.
dinefs; and above all, the dreadful apprehenfions that he
ſhould outlive his underſtanding, * made life fuch a bur-
den to him, that he had no hope left but in a ſpeedy dif
folution, which was the object of his daily prayer to the
Almighty.
About the year 1736, his memory was greatly im-
paired, and his other faculties of imagination and intel-
lect decayed, in proportion as the ftores from which they
were fupplied diminished. When the understanding was
fhaken from its feat, and reafon had given up the reins,
the irafcible paffions, which at all times he had found
difficult to be kept within due bounds, now raged with-
out controul, and made him a torment to himſelf, and to
all who were about him. An unufually long fit of deaf-
neſs, attended with giddineſs, which laſted almoſt a year,
had difqualified him wholly for converfation, and made
him loſe all relifh for fociety. Confcious of his fituation,
he was little defirous of feeing any of his old friends and
companions, and they were as little folicitous to vifit him
in that deplorable ftate. He could now no longer amuſe
himſelf with writing; and a refolution he had formed of
never wearing fpectacles, to which he obftinately adhered,
prevented him from reading. Without employment,
without amuſements of any kind, thus did his time pafs
*Dr. Young has recorded an inftance of this, where he relates,
that walking out with Swift and fome others about a mile from Dub-
lin, he fuddenly miffed the Dean, who had flaid behind the rest of the
company. He turned back in order to know the occafion of it; and
found Swift at ſome diſtance gazing intently at the top of a lofty elm,
whoſe head had been blafted; upon Young's approach he pointed to it,
faying, I ſhall be like that tree, I ſhall die firſt at the top.”
3
heavily
DOCTOR SWIFT.
243
heavily along; not one white day in the Calendar, not
one hour of comfort, nor did even a ray of hope pierce
through the gloom: The ftate of his mind is ftrongly
pictured in a letter to Mrs. Whiteway: "I have bee.
very miferable all night, and to-day extremely deaf and
full of pain. I am fo ftupid and confounded, that I can-
not exprefs the mortification I am under both in body
and mind. All I can fay is, that I am not in torture;
but I daily and hourly expect it. Pray let me know how
your health is, and your family. I hardly underſtand
one word I write. I am fure my days will be very few ;
few and miſerable they muſt be.
days,
If I do not blunder, it is Saturday,
July 26; 1740.
I am for thoſe few
Yours entirely,
J. SWIFT.
Not long after the date of this letter, his underftandi
ing failed to fuch a degree, that it was found neceffary to
have guardians legally appointed to take care of his per-
fon and eſtate. This was followed by a fit of lunacy;
which continued fome months, and then he funk into a
Itate of idiocy, which lafted to his death. He died Oc-
tober 29, 1745
The behaviour of the citizens on this occafion, gave
the ſtrongeſt proof of the deep impreffion he had madë
on their minds. Though he had been, for fo many years,
to all intents and purpoſes dead to the world, and his de-
parture from that ftate feemed a thing rather to be with-
ed than deplored, yet no fooner was his death announced;
than the citizens gathered from all quarters, and forced
their way in crowds into the houfe, to pay the laft tribu e
of grief to their departed benefactor. Nothing but la
mentations were heard all around the quarter where he
lived, as if he had been cut off in the vigour of his years.
Happy were they who firft got into the chamber where
he lay, to procure, by bribes to the fervants, locks of his
R 2
hair,
244
THE LIFE OF
hair, to be handed down as facred relicks to their pofte
rity.* And fo eager were numbers to obtain at any price
this precious memorial, that in less than an hour, his
venerable head was entirely ftripped of all its filver orna-
ments, ſo that not a hair remained. He was buried in
the moſt private manner, according to directions in his
will, in the great aifle of St. Patrick's Cathedral, and by
way of monument, a flab of black marble was placed
against the wall, on which was engraved the following
Latin Epitaph, written by himſelf.
Hic depofitum eft corpus
JONATHAN SWIFT, S. T. P.
Hujus Ecclefiæ Cathedralis
Decani :
Ubi fæva indignation
Ulterius cor lacerare nequit.
Abi, viator,
Strenuum
Et imitare, fi poteris,
pro virili libertatis vindicem.
Obiit anno (1745)
Menfis (Octobris) die (19)
Ætatis anno (78.)
SECTION VÍ.
PRIVATE MEMOIRS of SWIFT.
HAVING now conducted Swift from his cradle to
his grave, and prefented to view, in a regular feries, the
moſt remarkable fcenes of his publick life; I have pur-
* Yea beg a hair of him for memory,
And dying mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their iſſue.
SHAKESPEARE.
pofely
DOCTOR SWIFT.
245
pofely referved to this place the greater part of fuch Pri-
vate Memoirs, as were not meant to meet the publick
eye, in order that I might arrange them alfo in an unin
terrupted train. Nothing has more excited the curiofity
of mankind at all times, than that defire which prevails
of prying into the fecret actions of great and illuftrious
characters; arifing in fome, from a too general ſpirit of
envy, which hopes to find fomething in their private con-
duct that may fully the luftre of their publick fame, and
fo bring them down more to a level with themſelves:
and in others, of a more candid difpofition, that they
might form right judgments of their real characters; as
too many, like actors in a theatre, only affume one when
they appear on the ſtage of the world, which they put off,
together with their robes and plumes, when retired to the
dreffing room. But as the readers of the former fort, are
infinitely more numerous, in order to gratify their taſte,
as well, perhaps, as their own congenial difpofition, the
Writers of fuch Memoirs are too apt to lean to the male-
volent fide, and deal rather in the more faleable commo-
dity of obloquy and fcandal, high ſeaſoned to the tafte of
vitiated palates, than in the milder and more infipid food
of truth and panegyric. Many have been the mifrepre-
fentations made of Swift, from this uncharitable fpirit;
and though most of them have been proved to be fuck
by his defenders, yet there are ſeveral ſtill left in a ſtate
of doubt and uncertainty, through the want of proper in-
formation. Among theſe there is no article about which
the world is ſtill left ſo much in the dark, as his amours.
A fubject, which, in one of his fingular character; is
more likely to excite curiofity than any other.
know there were two ladies, reprefented by him as the
moſt accompliſhed of their fex, adorned with all the
charms and graces, both of perfon and mind, that might
penetrate the moft obdurate breaft, whofe hearts were
R 3
We
wholly
246
LIFE OF
THE
wholly devoted to him. We know too that he had a juft
ſenſe of their value, that he lived on terms of the cloſeſt
friendſhip with both, but it does not appear that he ever
made a fuitable return of love to either.
As his conduct towards theſe two celebrated ladies,
Stella and Vaneffa, feems to be wrapped up in the dark-
eft fhades of any part of his hiftory, and has given rife ta
various conjectures, which yet have produced no fatis-
factory folution of the doubts which it has occaſioned; I
fhall endeavour, by collecting fome fcattered rays from
different parts of his Works, and adding other lights.
which have come to my knowledge, to difperfe the myf-
terious gloom with which this fubject feems to have been
inveloped, and put the whole in a clear point of view.
In order to this, it will be neceffary, in the firſt place,
to form a judgment how Swift ftood affected towards the
female fex, either from conftitution, or reflection. With
regard to the former, he feems to have been of a very
cold habit, and little fpurred on by any impulfe of defire:
and as to the latter, he appears in the early part of his
life to have had little inclination to enter into the married
ſtate, and afterwards to have had a fixed diflike to it.
His fentiments on this head are fully diſplayed in the
following letter to a kinfman of his, written in the 24th
year of his age.
To the Revd. Mr. JOHN KENDALL, &c.*
SIR,
February 11, 1691.
IF any thing made me wonder at your letter, it was
your almoft inviting me to do fo in the beginning, which
indeed grew lefs upon knowing the occafion, fince it is
what I have heard from more than one, in and about
Vicar of Thornton in Leiceſterſhire. Dr. Swift was at this time
with Sir William Temple, at Sheen.
Leidefter.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
247
Leicefter. And for the friendship between us, as I fup-
pofe your's to be real, fo I think it would be proper to
imagine mine, until you find any caufe to believe it pre-
tended; though I might have fome quarrel at you in
three or four lines, which are very ill beſtowed in com-
plimenting me. And as to that of my great proſpects
of making my fortune, on which as your kindneſs only
looks on the beſt ſide, ſo my own cold temper, and un-
confined humour, is a much greater hindrance than any
fear of that which is the fubject of your letter. I ſhall
ſpeak plainly to you, that the very ordinary obfervations
I made with going half a mile beyond the University,
have taught me experience enough not to think of mar-
riage till I fettle my fortune in the world, which I am
fure will not be in fome years; and even then itfelf, I am
fo hard to pleaſe, that I ſuppoſe I fhall put it off to the
other world. How all that fuits with my behaviour to
the woman in hand, you may easily imagine, when you
know there is fomething in me which must be employed;
and when I am alone turns all, for want of practice, into
ſpeculation and thought; infomuch, that theſe ſeven
weeks I have been here, I have writ and burnt, and writ
again upon all manner of ſubjects, more than perhaps
any man in England. And this is it which a perſon of
great honour in Ireland (who was pleaſed to ſtoop fo low
as to look into my mind) uſed to tell me, that my mind
was like a conjured fpirit, that would do mifchief if I
would not give it employment. It is this humour that
makes me fo bufy, when I am in company, to turn all
that way; and fince it commonly ends in talk, whether
it be love, or converfation, it is all alike. This is fo
common, that I could remember twenty women in my
life, to whom I have behaved myſelf juſt the fame way;
and, I profeſs, without any other defign than that of
entertaining myſelf when I am very idle, or when fome-
R 4
thing
248
OF
THE
LIFE
thing goes amifs in my affairs. This I always have done
as a man of the world, when I had no deſign for any
thing grave in it, and what I thought at worst a harmlefs
impertinence; but, whenever I begin to take fober re-
folutions, or, as now, to think of entering into the
church, I never found it would be hard to put off this
kind of folly at the porch. Beſides, perhaps, in ſo ge-
neral a converfation among that fex, I might pretend
little to underſtand where I am when I am going to
chooſe for a wife; and, though the cunning fharper of
the town may have a cheat put on him, yet it muſt be
cleanlier carried than this, which you think I am going
to top upon myſelf. And truly, if you knew how meta-
phyfical I am that way, you would little fear I ſhould
venture on one who has given fo much occafion to
tongues: for, though the people is a lying fort of beast
(and I think in Leicefter above all parts that I was in)
yet they ſeldom talk without fome glimpſe of a reaſon,
which I declare (fo unpardonably jealous I am) to be a
fufficient cauſe for me to hate any woman any farther
than a bare acquaintance. Among all the young Gentle-
men that I have known, who have ruined themſelves by
marrying (which I affure you is a great number) I have
made this general rule, that they are either young, raw,
and ignorant ſcholars, who, for want of knowing com-
pany, believe every filk petticoat includes an angel; or
elfe thefe have been a fort of honeft young men, who
perhaps are too literal in rather marrying than burning,
and entail a mifery on themſelves and pofterity, by an
over-acting modefty. I think I am very far excluded
from lifting under either of thefe heads. I confefs I have
known one or two men of fenfe enough, who, inclined to
frolicks, have married and ruined themfelves out of a
maggot, but a thouſand houshold thoughts, which al-
ways drive matrimony out of my mind whenever it
chances
DOCTOR SWIFT.
249
chances to come there, will, I am fure, fright me from
that; befide that, I am naturally temperate, and never
engaged in the contrary, which uſually produces thofe
effects. Your hints at particular ſtories I do not under-
ſtand; and having never heard them but fo hinted,
thought it proper to give you this, to fhew you how I
thank you for your regard of me; and I hope my car-
riage will be fuch as that my friends need not be aſhamed
of the name. I ſhould not have behaved myſelf after
that manner I did in Leiceſter, if I had not valued my
own entertainment, beyond the obloquy of a parcel of
very wretched fools, which I folemnly pronounce the in-
habitants of Leiceſter to be, and fo I content myſelf with
retaliation. I hope you will forgive this trouble; and
fo, with my ſervice to your good wife, I am, good
Coufin,
Your very affectionate friend and fervant,
J. SWIFT.
This letter was an anfwer to one from Mr. Kendall,
in which he informs him of the reports ſpread at Leiceſter
that he had paid ferious addreffes there to an unworthy
object, and which Swift therefore thought required this
explicit anſwer *. Here we fee that he had no other idea
of gallantry with the fex, than what ferved for mere a-
mufement; that he had rather a dread of matrimony,
• Swift makes the following mention of this affair in a letter to
Mr. Worral, written on a particular occafion in the year 1728-9-
"When I went a lad to my mother, after the Revolution, fhe brought
me acquainted with a family, where there was a daughter, with whom
I was acquainted. My prudent mother was afraid I ſhould be in love
with her; but when I went to London, fhe married an inn-keeper in
Loughborough, in that county. This woman (my mistress with a
pox) left ſeveral children who are all dead but one daughter, Anne by
name," &c.
What follows is immaterial to the prefent fubje&t.
and
250
THE LIFE OF
and that he had never engaged in illicit amours, from
which he claims no merit, but imputes it to his being
naturally of a temperate conftitution. This ingenuous let-
ter, written at the moſt vigorous time of life, will ferve
as a clue to his conduct towards women ever after.
The only inftance that appears of his having any feri-
ous thoughts of matrimony, was with regard to a Mifs
Waryng, a Lady of the North of Ireland, poffeffed of a
moderate fortune. The circumftances of that affair are
laid open in the following letter to that Lady, written by
Swift in the year 1700, when he was in his 33d year.
Madam,
Dublin, May 4, 1700.
"I AM extremely concerned at the account you give
of your health; for my uncle told me he found you in
appearance better than you had been in fome years, and
I was in hopes you had ſtill continued fo. God forbid I
fhould ever be the occafion of creating more troubles to
you, as you ſeem to intimate! The letter you defired me
to anſwer, I have frequently read, and thought I had re-
plied to every part of it that required it; however, fince
you are pleafed to repeat thofe particulars wherein you
defired fatisfaction, I fhall endeavour to give it you as
well as I am able. You would know what gave my tem-
per that fudden turn, as to alter the ftile of my letters
fince I laft came over. If there has been that alteration
you obſerve, I have told you the caufe abundance of
times. I had ufed a thouſand endeavours and arguments,
to get you from the company and place you are in; both
on the account of your health and humour, which I
thought were likely to fuffer very much in fuch an air,
and before fuch examples. All I had in anſwer from you,
was nothing but a great deal of arguing, and fometimes
in a ſtile fo very imperious, as I thought might have been
fpared, when I reflected how much you had been in the
wrong.
DOCTOR SWIFT.
251
wrong. The other thing you would know is, whether
this change of ſtile be owing to the thoughts of a new mif-
trefs. I declare, upon the word of a Chriſtian and a Gen-
tleman, it is not; neither had I ever thoughts of being
married to any other perfon but yourſelf. I had ever an
opinion that you had a great ſweetneſs of nature and hu-
mour; and whatever appeared to the contrary, I looked
upon it only as a thing put on as neceffary before a lover,
but I have fince obferved in abundance of your letters
fuch marks of a fevere indifference, that I began to think
it was hardly poffible for one of my few good qualities to
pleaſe you. I never knew any ſo hard to be worked up-
on, even in matters where the intereft and concern are
entirely your own; all which, I fay, paffed eafily while
we were in the ftate of formalities and ceremony; but,
fince that, there is no other way of accounting for this
untractable behaviour in you, but by imputing it to a
want of common efteem and friendſhip for me.
"When I defired an account of your fortune, I had
no fuch defign as you pretend to imagine. I have told
you many a time, that in England it was in the power
of any young fellow of common ſenſe, to get a larger
fortune than ever you pretended to. I aſked, in order
to confider whether it were fufficient, with the help of
my poor income, to make one of your humour eaſy in
a married ſtate. I think it comes to almoſt a hundred
pounds a year; and I think at the fame time that no
young woman in the world, of the fame income, would
dwindle away their health and life in fuch a fink, and
among fuch family converfation; neither have all your
letters been once able to perfuade that you have the
leaſt value for me, becauſe you fo little regarded what
I fo often faid upon that matter. The difmal account
you fay I have given of my livings, I can affure you to
be a true one; and, fince it is a difmal one even in
your
232
THE LIFE OF
your own opinion, you can beſt draw confequences
from it. The place where Dr. Bolton lived is upon a
iving which he keeps with the Deanery; but the place
of refidence for that they have given him, is within a
mile of a town called Trim, twenty miles from hence;
and there is no other way, but to hire a houſe at Trim,
or build one on the fpot: the first is hardly to be done,
and the other I am too poor to perform at prefent. For
coming down to Belfaſt, it is what I cannot yet think
of, my attendante is fo cloſe, and fo much required of
me; but our government fits very loofe, and I believe
will change in a few months; whether our part will
partake in the change, I know not, though I am very
apt to believe it; and then I fhall be at leifure for a
hort journey. But I hope your other friends, more
powerful than I, will before that time perfuade you
from the place where you are. I defire my ſervice to
your mother, in return for her remembrance; but for
any other dealings that way, I entreat your pardon;
and I think I have more caufe to refent your defires of
me in that cafe, than you have to be angry at my refu-
fals. If you like fuch company and conduct, much
good do you with them! My education has been other-
wife. My uncle Adam afked me one day in private,
as by direction, what my deſigns were in relation to
you, becauſe it might be a hindrance to you if I did
not proceed. The answer I gave him (which I fuppofe
he has fent you) was to this effect: "That I hoped I
was no hindrance to you; becaufe the reafon you urged
against a union with me was drawn from indifpofition,
which ftill continued; that you alfo thought my for-
tune not fufficient, which is neither at prefent in a con-
dition to offer you: That, if your health and my for-
tune were as they ought, I would prefer you above all
your fex, but that, in the prefent condition of both,
I
thought
DOCTOR SWIFT.
293
thought it was against your opinion, and would cer-
tainly make you unhappy: that, had you any other of
fers which your friends or yourſelf thought more to
your advantage, I fhould think I were very unjust to
be an obſtacle in your way." Now for what concerns
my fortune, you have anſwered it. I defire, therefore,
you will let me know if your health be otherwife than
it was when you told me the Doctors adviſed you againſt
marriage, as what would certainly hazard your life.
Are they or you grown of another opinion in this par-
ticular? Are you in a condition to manage domeſtic
affairs, with an income of lefs (perhaps) than three
hundred pounds a year? Have you fuch an inclination
to my perſon and humour, as to comply with my de-
fires and way of living, and endeavour to make us both
as happy as you can? Will you be ready to engage in
thoſe methods I fhall direct for the improvement of your
mind, ſo as to make us entertaining company for each o-
ther, without being miferable when we are neither vifit-
ing nor vifited? Can you bend your love and esteem and
indifference to others the fame way as I do mine? Shall
I have fo much power in your heart, or you fo much go-
vernment of your paffions, as to grow in good humour
upon my approach, though provoked by a? Have
you ſo much good-nature as to endeavour by ſoft words
to ſmooth any rugged humour occafioned by the cross
accidents of life? Shall the place wherever your huſ
band is thrown, be more welcome than courts and cities
without him? In short, thefe are fome of the neceffary
methods to pleaſe men, who, like me, are deep read
in the world; and to a perſon thus made, I ſhould be
proud in giving all due returns toward making her
happy. Theſe are the queftions I have always refolved
to propofe to her with whom I meant to pafs my life;
and whenever you can heartily anfwer them in the af
firmative,
254
THE LIFE OF
firmative, I ſhall be bleffed to have you in my arms;
without regarding whether your perfon be beautiful, or
your fortune large. Cleanlinefs in the firft, and com-
petency in the other, is all I look for. I defire indeed
plentiful revenue, but would rather it fhould be of
my own; though I fhould not bear from a wife to be
reproached for the greateft.
"I have faid all I can poffibly fay in anfwer to any
part of your letter, and in telling you my clear opi-
nion as to matters between us. 1 fingled you out at
firſt from the reſt of women; and I expect not to be
uſed like a common lover. When you think fit to fend
me an anſwer to this, without, I fhall then ap
prove myſelf, by all means you fhall command,
Madam,
Your moſt faithful humble fervant,
JONATHAN SWIFT.
From the contents of this letter, it is apparent, that
whatever inclination he might formerly have had to a
union with this Lady, it was now much changed; and
his view in writing it, feems evidently to have been to
put an end to the connection, but in fuch a way, as
that the refufal might come from the Lady. For it was
impoffible to fuppofe that a woman of any ſpirit (and
from fome hints in the letter fhe feemed to have rather
more than carne to her fhare) fhould not highly refent.
fuch an unlover-like epiftle, written in fo dictatorial a
ſtyle. And it is highly probable that the little ftomach
which he at all times had to matrimony, was a ſtronger
motive to breaking off the match, than any of the
newly diſcovered faults laid to her charge. His at-
tachment to this Lady was in confequence of a juvenile
paffion commenced when he was in the College. She
was
DOCTOR SWIFT.
255
was fifter to his chamber-fellow Mr. Waryng, and a
familiar intercourfe naturally followed. It is certain a
correfpondence had been carried on between them for
fome time in the ftile of courtship; but a few years ab-
fence cool'd the ardour of his flame, which, together
with fome circumftances alluded to in the above letter,
made him wiſh to put an end to the connection. I have
in my poffeflion a letter of his, which was never yet
printed, addreffed to the Rev. Mr. Winder, dated from
Moor-park, 1098. Wherein fome flight mention is
made of this affair, and which manifeftly fhews his in-
difference at that time, in the following paffage: "I
remember thefe letters to Eliza; they were writ in my
youth. Pray burn them. You mention a dangerous
rival for an abfent lover; but I must take my fortune.
If the report proceeds, pray inform me." After thefe
we have no memorial remaining of his being attached
to any of the fair fex, except Mrs. Johnfon and Mifs
Vanhomrigh, known to the world by the celebrated
names of Stella, and Vaneſſa. We have already feen
how his acquaintance with Stella commenced at an
early period of her life, and the fhare that he had in
training her up to that degree of perfection which the
afterwards reached. It is no wonder that his admira-
tion of his lovely pupil fhould increaſe with her grow-
ing perfections, and that it fhould produce the ſtrongeſt
attachment to one of the finest pieces of nature's work-
manſhip, finiſhed and poliſhed to the height by his own
hand. But though his affection for her daily increaſed,
during a long habitude of intercourfe with one of the
moft charming companions in the world, perfectly
fuited in all points to his taſte and humour, yet had it
no mixture in it of the paffion of love, but was rather
the tenderneſs of a parent to a favourite child.
His
256
THE LIFE OF
}
His conduct might have made him ftyl'd,
A father, and the nymph his child.
That innocent delight he took
To ſee the virgin mind her book,
Was but the mafter's fecret joy
In ſchool to hear the fineft boy.
For the truth of this he appeals to Stella herſelf in
one of his Poems addreffed to her.
Thou, Stella, wert no longer young,
When firft for thee my harp I ſtrung;
Without one word of Cupid's darts,
Of killing eyes, or bleeding hearts:
With friendſhip and efteem poffeft,
I ne'er admitted love a gueſt.
Nor was there any thing uncommon in this. We
find that even among young people bred up together
from childhood, the paffion of love feldom appears;
and much less likely is it to take place where there is
fuch a diſparity of years. It has been already fhewn
what punctilious caution he took to prevent any ap-
pearance of that fort, by never converfing with her but
in the preſence of a third perfon, which was uſually
her companion Mrs. Dingley. But not long after her
fettlement in Ireland, he gave the moſt unequivocal
proof of what his fentiments were with regard to her
on that point. It was impoffible that fo charming an
object fhould long remain without infpiring fome of
her beholders with love. Accordingly an intimate
friend of Swift's, of the name of Tifdal, not undif
tinguiſhed for learning and wit, was fo captivated with
the beauties both of her perfon and mind, that he paid
his addreffes to her, and made propofals of marriage.
The
DOCTOR SWIFT.
257
The account of this tranfaction, and the part that Swift
bore in it, is fet forth at large in the following letter
written by him to Tifdal on that fubject.
Dr. SWIFT to Mr. TISDAL.
London, April 20, 1704.
"YESTERDAY COming from the country I found your
letter, which had been four or five days arrived, and
by neglect was not forwarded as it ought. You have
got three epithets for my former letter, which I believe
are all unjuft: you fay it was unfriendly, unkind, and
unaccountable. The two first, I fuppofe, may paſs but
for one, faving (as Capt. Fluellin fays) the phrafe is a
little variations. I fhall therefore anſwer thoſe two as
I can; and for the laft, I return it you again by thefe
prefents, affuring you, that there is more unaccounta-
bility in your letter's little finger, than in mine's whole
body. And one ſtrain I obferve in it, which is fre-
quent enough; you talk in a myftical fort of a way,
as if you would have me believe I had fome great de-
fign, and that you had found it out: your phrafes are,
that my letter had the effect you judge I defigned; that
you are amazed to reflect on what you judge the cauſe
of it; and wiſh it may be in your power to love and
value me while you live, &c. In anfwer to all this, I
might with good pretence enough talk ftarchly, and af-
fect ignorance of what you would be at; but my con-
jecture is, that you think I obſtructed your infinuations
to pleaſe my own, and that my intentions were the fame
with yours. In anfwer to all which, I will upon my
confcience and honour tell you the naked truth. First,
I think I have faid to you before, that if my fortunes
and humour ſerved me to think of that ftare, I fhould
certainly, among all perfons on earth, make your choice;
S
becauſe
258
THE LIFE OF
1
!
becauſe I never faw that perfon whofe converfation I
entirely valued but her's; this was the utmoſt I ever
gave way to.
And, fecondly, I muft affure you fin-
cerely, that this regard of mine never once entered to
be an impediment to you; but I judged it would, per-
haps, be a clog to your rifing in the world; and I did
not conceive you were then rich enough to make your-
felf and her happy and eafy. But that objection is now
quite removed by what you have at prefent; and by
the affurances of Eaton's livings. I told you indeed,
that your authority was not fufficient to make overtures
to the mother, without the daughter's giving me leave
under her own or her friend's hand, which, I think,
was a right and a prudent ftep. However, I told the
mother immediately, and ſpoke with all the advantages
you deferve. But the objection of your fortune being
removed, I declare I have no other; nor fhall any con-
fideration of my own misfortune, in lofing fo good a
friend and companion as her, prevail on me againſt her
intereft and fettlement in the world, fince it is held fo
neceffary and convenient a thing for Ladies to marry;
and that time takes off from the luftre of virgins in all
other eyes but mine. I appeal to my letters to herſelf,
whether I was your friend or not in the whole concern;
though the part I defigned to act in it was purely paf-
five, which is the utmoſt I will ever do in things of this
nature, to avoid all reproach of any ill confequence,
that may enfue in the variety of worldly accidents.
Nay I went fo far both to her mother, herſelf, and, I
think to you, as to fay it could not be decently broken;
fince I fuppofed the town had got it in their tongues,
and therefore I thought it could not mifcarry without
fome difadvantage to the Lady's credit. I have always
defcribed her to you in a manner different from thofe,
who would be difcouraging, and muft add, that though
it
DOCTOR
259
SWIFT.
it hath come in my way to converſe with perfons of the
firft rank, and of that fex, more than is ufual to men
of my level, and of our function; yet I have no where
met with a humour, a wit, or converfation fo agree-
able, a better portion of good fenfe, or a truer judg-
ment of men and things, I mean here in England; for
as to the Ladies of Ireland, I am a perfect ftranger.
As to her fortune, I think you know it already; and, if
you refume your defigns, and would have farther intel-
ligence, I fhall fend you a particular account.
I give you joy of your good fortunes, and envy very
much your prudence and temper, and love of peace
and fettlement, the reverfe of which hath been the
great uneaſineſs of my life, and is likely to continue fo.
And what is the refult? En queis confevimus agros! I find
nothing but the good words and wiſhes of a decayed
Miniſtry, whofe lives and mine will probably wear out
before they can ferve either my little hopes, or their
own ambition. Therefore I am refolved fuddenly to
retire, like a difcontented courtier, and vent myfelf in
ftudy and fpeculation, till my own humour, or the
fcene here, ſhall change.
I have here inferted the whole of this letter, both as
it contains a candid diſplay of Swift's fentiments on this
occafion, and is a ftrong confutation of the account
given of it by his relation Deane Swift, in his Effay,
&c. part of which I fhall here tranfcribe, where fpeak-
ing of Mr. Tifdal he fays-" This Gentleman declared
his paffion, and made her propofals of marriage. Now
whether it was artifice in Mrs. Johnfon to rouze affec-
tions in the adamantine heart of her admired object;
or whether it was a reach of policy in Dr. Swift, to ac-
quaint Mrs. Johnfon by fuch indirect means that he
had no intention of engaging himſelf in a married life;
or whether in truth there was any kind of artifice ufed
Sa
on
260
OF
THE LIFE
↓
on either de, I proteft I am wholly a ftranger, &c.-
Mrs. Johnfon diſcovered no repugnancy to the match,
but ftill he would be adviſed by Doctor Swift. The
Doctor, perhaps, loth to be feparated from fo delightful
a companion, threw an obftacle in the way that was not
to be furmounted. This Gentleman had a benefice in
the church of a confiderable value, about a hundred
miles from Dublin, which required his attendance.
Dr. Swift, in order to bring matters to a final iffue,
made him an overture that he fhould fettle upon his
wife a hundred pounds a year for pin-money. The
lover indeed, although extremely captivated with the
charms of his miftrefs, was by no means delighted with
this propofal; he defired however that he might have a
night's time to confider of it; and the next morning,
contrary to expectation, he agreed to the terms. Swift,
never at a loſs for fome uncommon flight of imagina-
tion, infifted farther that he ſhould live in Dublin, and
keep a coach for his wife. The Gentleman had more
honour than to promife what he could not perform;
the match was accordingly broken off: in a ſhort time
after the Doctor's friend married a woman of family,
and there was an end of the affair." In what a mean
felfish light does this fabricated account place Swift!
how different from the genuine one delivered by him-
felf! and that too drawn up by a kinfman, who writ
profeffedly to vindicate his character. But the match
was not broken off by any artifice of Swift's, to which
he was at all times fuperior. The refufal came from
Mrs. Johnfon herfelf, who, though the might at firft
have fhewn no repugnance to it, probably with a view
to found Swift's fentiments, and bring him to fome
explanation with regard to her; yet when it came to
the point, fhe could not give up the hope long nouriſh-
ed in her boſom, of being one day united to the object
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
261
of her virgin heart, and whom fhe confidered as the
first of mankind. From that time we do not find that
fhe ever encouraged any other addreffes, and her life
feemed wholly devoted to him. She paffed her days
from the year 1703 to 1710, in the moſt perfect retire-
ment, without any other enjoyment in life but what fhe
found in the pleaſure of his fociety, or in reading.
Their mode of living was this: when the Doctor was
abfent on his vifits to England, fhe and her companion
took up their refidence at his parfonage houfe at Lara-
cor, in the neighbourhood of Trim, a finall town about
20 miles diftant from Dublin. When he returned, they
either retired to a lodging at Trim, or were hofpitably
received in the houfe of Dr. Raymond, Vicar of that
pariſh. Swift grew fo enamoured of this courfe of life,
that he feemed to wifh for nothing more than a conti-
nuance of it. The charming fociety and delightful
converfation of the amiable and accomplished Stella,
had, by long habitude, become effential to his happi-
neſs, and made him lofe all relifh for every other enjoy-
ment of life, when abſent from her. All the more vi-
gorous fprings of his mind were relaxed and loft their
tone; and even the powerful paffions of ambition, and
defire of wealth, were wholly abforbed in this truly vo-
luptuous ftate, wherein was conftantly mixed
The feaft of reafon, and the flow of foul.
A ſtate of true epicurean happinefs, and a fource of
pleaſures beyond the conception of the fenfualift, which,
far from cloying, ftill encreafe by enjoyment, and
which can only be the portion of the more exalted
minds, and refined fpirits of this world. It is cer-
tain that Swift's foul was fo intangled by thefe charms,
of a different kind indeed, but not lefs powerful than
S 3
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"
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thofe of Circe, that it was with the utmoft reluctance he
difengaged himſelf from them, though but for a ſhort
time; nor could any thing but a fenfe of duty, and a defire
of ferving the church, make him accept of a commiffion
for that purpoſe, which occafioned his journey to London
in September, 1710. In his first letter to Mrs. Johnfon,
on his arrival at Cheſter, he ſays-" I am perfectly reſolved
to return as ſoon as I have done my commiffion, whether
it fucceeds or not. I never went to England with fo little
defire in my life." In the January following he fays-
Farewell, dearest beloved MD, and love poor poor
Prefto*, who has not had one happy day fince he left you,
as hope faved. It is the laſt fally I fhall ever make, bụt
I hope it will turn to fome account. I would make MD
and me eafy, and I never defired more." And in ſome
months after, he expreffes his impatience of this long
abfence in the ſtrongeſt terms; where addrefling himſelf
to Stella, he fays-" You fay you are not fplenetick;
but if you be, faith you will break poor Presto's
I won't ſay the reſt; but I vow to God, if I could de-
cently come over now, I would, and leave all fchemes of
politics and ambition for ever." In the whole courſe of
his letters it appears that not all the homage paid him by
the great, the fociety of the choiceft fpirits of the age,
and the friendſhip of fome of the worthieft characters of
both fexes; not the daily increafe and fpreading of his
fame, and the most flattering profpects before him of for-
tune and preferment, could compenfate for the want of
that companion, who was the fupreme delight of his heart.
In the midst of all thefe he tells her, that his beſt days
here are traſh to thoſe which he paffed with her. In order
to foften in fome meaſure the rigour of abfence, he had
fettled a plan at parting, that they fhould keep a regular
journal, in which they fhould fet down the tranfactions
* MD ftands for Stella, and Prefto for Swift,
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
263
of the day, and once a fortnight tranfmit it to each other.
The writing and receiving of thefe conftituted the chief
pleaſure of his life during his refidence in England. It
was his firft employment, when he awoke in the morning;
the laft, before he clofed his eyes at night. He makes
frequent mention of the great fatisfaction he finds in this
kind of intercourfe. In his Journal, January 16, 1711,
he fays" Prefto's at home, God help him, every night
from fix till bed-time, and has as little enjoyment or plea-
fure in life at prefent, as any body in the world, although
in full favour with all the Miniftry. As hope faved, no-
thing gives Preſto any fort of dream of happineſs, but a
letter now and then from his own deareſt MD. I love
the expectation of it, and when it does not come, I com-
fort myſelf that I have it yet to be happy with. Yes
faith, and when I write to MD, I am happy too: it is
juft, methinks, as if you were here, and I prating to you,
and telling you where I have been," &c. And in
another place "When I find you are happy or merry
there, it makes me fo here, and I can hardly imagine
you abfent when I am reading your letter, or writing
No faith, you are juft here upon this little
paper, and therefore I fee and talk with you every even-
ing conftantly, and fometimes in the morning," &c.
to you.
This mode of intercourfe, during their feparation,
was adopted by him upon the fame cautious principle,
by which he regulated his conduct towards her, when
he lived in the fame place with her. As he had never
trufted himſelf alone with her then, but always con-
verfed with her, as was before obſerved, in the prefence
of fome third perfon, fo his Journals were conftantly
addreffed to both Ladies, and were anfwered by both
in the fame letter. Had he entered into a feparate cor-
refpondence with Mrs. Johnfon, it would be hardly pof-
fible to avoid coming to fome explanation, that muft
either.
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THE LIFE OF
either have ended in an abſolute engagement, or put a
period to all expectation of that fort: both which, from
fome maxims laid down by him, it was his buſineſs to
avoid. In this way of writing too, he might give a
loofe to all expreffions of endearment and tenderness,
with which his heart overflowed for one of the objects,
without at the fame time giving her a right to apply
them folely to herfelf, as they were addreffed to both.
Accordingly we find, interfperfed through the Journal,
feveral paffages containing the warmeft effufions of af-
fection, which the utmoſt ſenſibility of heart could pour
forth. Among many others, I fhall quote a few of
thefe, as they occur in the early part of his Journal.
"And fo you kept Prefto's little birth-day, I warrant:
would to God I had been prefent at the health, rather
than here, where I have no manner of pleaſure, no-
thing but eternal bufinefs on my hands. I fhall grow
wife in time, but no more of that; only I fay, Amen,
with my heart and vitals, that we may never be afunder
again, ten days together, while poor Prefto lives."
"Do as you pleaſe, and love poor Prefto, that loves
M. D. better than his life, a thouſand million of times.'
"You are welcome as my blood to every farthing I
have in the world; and all that grieves me is, I am
not richer, for MD's fake, as hope faved." Fare-
well, my dearest lives, and delights; I love you better.
than ever, if poffible, as hope faved I do, and ever
will. God Almighty blefs you ever, and make us
happy together; I pray for this twice every day, and I
hope God will hear my poor hearty prayers." "I will fay
no more, but beg you to be eafy till fortune takes her
courſe, and to believe that MD's felicity is the great
end I aim at in all my purfuits." Though expreflions
of this fort are in general addreffed to both thefe Ladies,
yet it is certain that Mrs. Johnfon must have confidered
1
2
them
DOCTOR SWIFT.
265
them as meant only to herſelf; for the other Lady,
Mrs. Dingley, was far from meriting any fhare in
Swift's eſteem or affection. She was merely one of the
common run of women, of a middling underſtanding,
without knowledge or tafte; and fo entirely felfish, as
to be incapable of any fincere friendſhip, or warm at-
tachment. In fhort, fhe was perfectly calculated to
anſwer Swift's purpoſes in the poft fhe occupied, that
of an inſeparable companion to Mrs. Johnſon: and the
narrowneſs of her circumſtances, which confifted only
of an annuity of twenty-feven pounds a year, too little
to ſupport her without the affiftance of a yearly allow-
ance from Swift, kept her in a fixed ſtate of depend-
ence, and conformity to his will. No wonder there-
fore that Mrs. Johnfon always entertained expectations
that Swift would offer her his hand, as foon as a fuffi-
cient encreaſe of fortune would enable him to do it
with prudence. While, on the other hand, Swift cau-
tiouſly avoided any declaration of that fort, which
might be conſtrued into a promife, and left himſelf at
liberty to interpret his ſtrongeſt expreffions of attach-
ment, as proceeding wholly from friendſhip, and a
warmth of pure affection, which had been encreaſing
from her early age, and fettled into what might be con-
fidered as a parental fondnefs. To enter thoroughly
into the motives of this conduct, we are to recollect
that Swift always had in remembrance the imprudent
match made by his father, which left his widow and
children in fo defolate a condition. The miferies he
had fuffered during a long ftate of dependence, even
to an advanced period of his life, made fo deep an im-
preffion on his mind, that he determined never to marry,
unleſs his fortune were fuch, as might enable him to
make a fuitable provifion for his wife, or any offspring
he might have by her. As he had no great propenfity
to
266
THE LIFE OF
1
#
to the marriage ftate, on feveral accounts before-men-
tioned, he found no difficulty in keeping this refolu-
tion; yet it is highly probable, at the time of his wri-
ting this part of the Journal, he had a diftant view of
being united fome time or other in the bands of wed-
lock to Mrs. Johnfon, whenever his expected prefer-
ment in the Church, and fufficient increaſe of fortune
ſhould render it eligible. For, though he might him-
felf have been perfectly content to have paffed the reft
of his life with her, in the fame manner as before, on
the pure Platonic ſyſtem; yet it could not eſcape his pe-
netration, that he had other views, and felt a paffion
for him not quite fo refined. And the charms of her
fociety had become fo effential to his happineſs, that
rather than run a risk of lofing it, he would purchaſe
it even at the price of matrimony, provided it could be
done confiftently with the unalterable refolution he had
laid down.
But while Swift's thoughts were thus employed, and
all his views in life tended to this point, as to their cen-
ter, an event happened which unhinged his mind, and
filled his bofom with a diſturbance, which all his phi-
lofophy could never calm, and which was the fource of
much difquiet to him ever after in life. This arofe
from that all-powerful paffion, which the greatest heroes,
and most renowned fages, have not been able to with-
ftand, I mean, love. Hitherto he had been fo much
upon his guard againſt that dangerous paffion, that he
was invulnerable to all its open attacks, even in the
prime of youth; but now in his advanced age, be-
trayed by the confidence which that infpired, he was
taken by furprife. Among the great number of his
friends in London, whoſe doors were always open to
him, there was none whofe houſe he fo conftantly fre-
quented as that of Mrs. Vanhomrigh, which he made
ufe
:
DOCTOR SWIFT.
259.
ufe of as if it were his home. This Lady had two
daughters; the eldeft, foon became a great favourite of
his, as, by his own account, ſhe was poffeffed of every
good quality, and adorned with every accompliſhment
that could render her one of the most perfect of her fex.
As one of the Doctor's greateſt delights was, to culti-
vate the minds of youth, particularly females, he took
upon himſelf the office of her Preceptor, to direct her
in her ſtudies, and inftil into her mind the principles of
virtue, and feeds of knowledge. Her capacity for
learning was fuch, that fhe imbibed his inftructions
faſter than he could give them; and her application
was fo great, that in less than two years, fhe made fuch
a progreſs as aſtoniſhed him. But about that time he
diſcovered a ſtrange alteration in her. She no longer
delighted in books, no longer was attentive to his lec-
tures. The frequent inftances he perceived of her ab-
fence of mind, fhewed that her thoughts were roving
about fomething elfe, which he had more at heart.
Upon enquiring into the cauſe of this, fhe ingenuouſly
owned her paſſion for him, and that her whole foul was
occupied, not about his precepts, but her Preceptor
himſelf. Nothing could have aftonished the Doctor
more, or thrown his mind into fuch a ſtate of agita-
tion, as an unexpected declaration of that fort. He
has given us a lively picture of what paffed there on the
occafion, in the following lines:
CADENUS felt within him rife
Shame, difappointment, guilt, furprife.
He knew not how to reconcile
Such language with her ufual ftyle:
And yet her words were fo expreft,
He could not hope fhe ſpoke in jeft.
His thoughts had wholly been confin'd
To form and cultivate her mind.
}
He
268
THE LIFE OF
He hardly knew, till he was told,
Whether the nymph were young or old
Had met her in a public place,
Without diſtinguiſhing her face.
Much lefs could his declining age
VANESSA's earlieft thoughts engage:
And if her youth indifference met,
His perfon must contempt beget.
Or grant her paffion be fincere,
How fhall his innocence be clear?
Appearances were all fo ftrong,
The world muft think him in the wrong;
Who'd fay, he made a treacherous ufe
Of wit, to flatter and feduce:
The town would ſwear he had betray'd,
By magic spells, the harmleſs maid;
And every beau would have his jokes,
That ſcholars were like other folks;
And when Platonic flights are over,
The tutor turns a mortal lover:
So tender of the young and fair!
It fhew'd a true paternal care :
Five thouſand guineas in her purfe!
The Doctor might have fancy'd worfe.
In his firſt ſurpriſe at her extraordinary declaration,
he tried to turn it off by raillery, treating it as a thing
fpoken only in jeft; but when a woman has once bro-
ken through the reftraint of decorum, the eſtabliſhed
barrier between the ſexes, ſo far as to begin the attack,
ſhe is not easily to be repulfed. She in ftronger terms
both avowed and juſtified her paffion for him, by ſuch
arguments as must be highly flattering to his felf-love.
Of the impreffion which thefe made on him, he gives
the following account in the fame Poem:
CADENUS
1
DOCTOR
269
SWIFT.
CADENUS, to his grief and ſhame,
Could ſcarce oppofe VANESSA's flame;
And tho' her arguments were ſtrong,
At leaſt could hardly wish them wrong.
Howe'er it came, he could not tell,
But fure fhe never talk'd fo well.
His pride began to interpofe,
Preferr'd before a crowd of beaux:
So bright a nymph to come unfought,
Such wonders by his merit wrought;
'Tis merit muſt with her prevail,
He never knew her judgment fail;
She noted all fhe ever read,
And had a moſt diſcerning head.
'Tis an old maxim in the fchools,
That flattery's the food of fools:
Yet, now and then, your men of wit
Will condefcend to pick a bit.
So when CADENUS could not hide,
He chofe to juſtify his pride;
Conftruing the paffion fhe had fhewn,
Much to her praife, more to his own.
Nature, in him, had merit plac'd,
In her, a moſt judicious taſte.
Having thus artfully brought over his pride and
felf-love to her party, and corrupted his judgment by
the moſt flattering arguments, the Lady found no
difficulty to make a conqueft of his now unguarded
heart, which, however reluctantly, he was obliged to
furrender at difcretion, He now for the first time felt
what the paffion of love was, with all its attendant fymp-
toms, which he had before known only from defcription,
and which he was now enabled to defcribe himfelf in
the ſtrongeſt colours:
Love!
270
THE LIFE OF
Love! why do we one paffion call,
When 'tis a compound of them all?
Where hot and cold, where fharp and fweet,
In all their equipages meet:
Where pleaſures mix'd with pains appear,
Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear.
To his lot indeed there fell a much greater propor -
tion of the bitter ingredients, than of the fweets of
love. He might fay with Othello,
Oh now for ever
Farewel the tranquil mind, farewel content!
All the pleafing fcenes of fober fedate happineſs,
which he had formed to himſelf for the reſt of his days,
in the fociety of Stella, were now overshadowed and e-
clipfed by the intervention of a brighter object, which
promiſed pleaſures of a more rapturous kind. And yet
they were pleaſures, which, in his hours of cooler reflec-
tion, he could never hope to taſte. Any idea of marri-
age
muſt have appeared, from the great difparity of years,
as well as many other reafons, to the laft degree prepof-
terous. Beſides, though he never had entered into any
direct engagement of that fort with Mrs. Johnfon, yet by
many expreffions in his letters before quoted, almoſt
tantamount to an engagement, and his whole conduct to-
wards her, he gave her juft grounds to expect, that if
ever he did marry, fhe fhould be his choice. He could
not therefore have given preference to another, without
being charged with cruelty and injuftice. And as to any
illicit commerce between them, he never could have en-
tertained a thought of that, without firft facrificing all
the principles of honour, morality, and religion, by which
his whole conduct in life had hitherto been governed.
In this critical fituation, he had but one wife courfe to
take,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
271
take, in order to enfure his future peace, which was to
eſcape the danger by flight, and breaking off all corre-
ſpondence with the Lady. But whether through too
great confidence in his ftrength, or giving way to the ir-
refiftible force of her attraction, he remained in the peri-
lous fituation of a conftant intercourſe with her, which
daily contributed to fan their mutual flames.
The date of the commencement of this adventure,
may be traced almoft to a certainty, by examining the lat-
ter part of Swift's Journal, in which, from March 1712
to the end, there is a remarkable change in his manner
of writing to the two Ladies. We no longer find there
any of what he called, the little language, the playful
fallies of an undiiguifed heart, to a bofom friend; no
more expreffions of tenderness, and cordial affection; no
repinings at his long continued abfence; nor ardent
wishes for their fpeedy meeting again; but on the con-
trary, we fee nothing but a dry Journal continued out of
form, made up of trifling incidents, news, or politics,
without any thing in the matter, or expreffion, at all in-
terefting to the parties addrefied. And now inftead of
that eager folicitude to return, which he had formerly fo
frequently and fo earneftly declared, he contents himfelf
with cold excufes for his long continuance in London.
And just before his fetting out for Ireland, in order to
take poffeffion of his Deanery, he writ a formal letter of
bufinefs to Mrs. Dingley, May 16, 1713, in which he
makes no mention of Stella, nor expreffes the leaft fatis-
faction at his near expectation of feeing them again. Cn
his arrival there, inſtead of the joy and tranſport, to which
he had once looked forward, on being re-united to the
object of all his withes, after fo long a feparation, the
whole fcence was changed to cold indifference, or gloomy
melancholy. In a letter to Mifs Vanhomrigh, dated
from Laracor, July 8, 1713, he fays, "At my firft
coming,
272
THE LIFE OF
coming, I thought I fhould have died with difcontent;
and was horribly melancholy while they were inftalling
me, but it begins to wear off, and change to dulnefs."
Who that read the former part of his Journal to Stella,
replete with fuch ardent wishes for their meeting again
never to part more, as the confummation of all his views.
of happineſs in life, could have expected fuch a change?
And who does not now fee the true caufe of that change?
In this uneafy fituation, we may fuppofe it was not
with much reluctance he obeyed the call of his friends,
to return immediately to England, in order to make up
a new breach between the Minifters, which threatened
ruin to the party. Though this was the oftenfible caufe
of his fudden departure, yet perhaps there was mettle
more attractive which drew him over at that time.
Soon after his arrival, he wrote that beautiful Poem
called Cadenus and Vaneffa. His firft defign in this
feems to have been to break off the connection in the
politeft manner poffible, and put an end to any expecta-
tions the Lady might have formed of a future union be-
tween them. To foften the harfhnefs of a refufal of her
proffered hand, the greateft of mortifications to a woman,
young, beautiful, and poffeffed of a good fortune, he
painted all her perfections both of body and mind, in
fuch glowing colours, as muft at least have highly grati-
fied her vanity, and fhewn that he was far from being in-
fenfible to her charms, though prudence forbad his yield-
ing to his inclinations. However determined he might
be at the commencement of the Poem, he kept his refo-
lution but ill in the profecution of it. Happy had it been
both for him and her, had he concluded it with a denial.
in fuch exprefs and peremptory terms, as would have left
her no ray of hope: but inftead of that, he leaves the
whole in a dubious ftate. She was too fharp-fighted not
to perceive, that in fpite of all the efforts of philofophy,
love
DOCTOR SWIFT.
273
}
love had taken poffeffion of his heart, and made it rebel
againſt his head. As her paffion for him was firſt inſpired
by his wit and genius, a Poem written in fuch exquifite
taſte, of which ſhe was the fubject, and where fhe faw
herſelf dreft out in the moſt flattering colours, was not
likely to adminifter to her cure.
On the contrary, it
only ferved to add fresh fuel to the flame. And as his
love originally aroſe from fympathy, it muft, from the
ſame cauſe, increaſe with the growth of hers.
Meantime the unfortunate Stella languiſhed in abfence
and neglect. The Journal was not renewed, nor are there
any traces remaining of the leaft correfpondence between
them, during Swift's whole ftay in England: while a
continual intercourfe was kept up between Vaneffa and
him. She was the firſt perſon he wrote to on his retire-
ment to Letcomb, fome time before the Queen's death;
and the laſt, on his departure from that place to Ireland.
He arrived there in a much more gloomy ftate of mind
than before, as the death of the Queen had broke all his
meaſures, and put an end to all future profpects, either
for the publick or himself. He has given vent to his me-
lancholy reflections on his fituation in a fhort Poem, writ-
ten during a fit of illnefs which had feized him foon
after his arrival; of which the following lines make a
part.
My ſtate of health none care to learn,
My life is here no foul's concern.
And thoſe with whom I now converfe,
Without a tear will tend my herfe.
Some formal vifits, looks, and words,
What mere humanity affords,
I meet perhaps from three or four,
From whom I once expected more ;
Which thoſe who tend the fick for pay,
Can act as decently as they.
T
But
274
THE LIFE OF
But no obliging tender friend
To help at my approaching end:
My life is now a burden grown
To others, ere it be my own.
Is it poffible to conceive that this could be the cafe
while he was in the fame country with his once adored
Stella? But it is probable that refentment at his long neg-
lect, and total change of behaviour toward her, as fhe
was a woman of high fpirit, might have fixed her, at that
juncture, in a refolution of living feparately from him in
her country retirement, where the account of his illneſs
might not have reached her. The arrival of Vaneſſa in
Dublin, whofe impatient love would not fuffer her to ſtay
long behind him, was the fource of much inquietude to
Swift. There was nothing he feemed to dread more than
that his intimacy with her fhould take wind in Dublin.
He had warned her of this in his farewell letter to her
from Letcomb, before his departure. "If you are in
Ireland when I am there, I fhall fee you very feldom.
It is not a place for any freedom; but it is where every
thing is known in a week, and magnified a hundred de-
grees. Thefe are rigorous laws that must be paffed
through but it is probable we may meet in London in
Winter; or, if not, leave all to fate, that feldom comes
to humour our inclinations. I fay all this out of the per-
fect eſteem and friendfhip I have for you." And after
her arrival he writes to the fame effect. "I received
your letter when ſome company was with me on Saturday
night, and it put me in fuch confufion that I could not
tell what to do. This morning a woman who does buſi-
nefs for me, told me he heard I was in love with one
naming you, and twenty particulars; that little
maſter — and I visited you; and that the Archbishop
did fo; and that you had abundance of wit, &c.
I ever
feared
DOCTOR SWIFT.
279
feared the tattle of this nafty town, and told you fo; and
that was the reaſon I faid to you long ago, that I would
fee you feldom when you were in Ireland ; and I muit
beg you to be eafy, if, for fome time, I vifit you fel-
domer, and not in fo particular a manner. I will fee
you at the latter end of the week, if poffible. Thefe are
accidents in life that are neceffary, and muſt be fubmitted
to; and tattle, by the help of difcretion, will wear off."
But difcretion was ill fuited to a mind, now under the
dominion of an ungovernable paffion, and which had no
other enjoyment in life, but in the fociety of the beloved
object. She importuned him fo with letters, meffages,
and complaints, that he was obliged to affume a fternels
of behaviour to her, and treat her with a rigour quite fo-
reign to his heart *. The effect this had on her, is moſt
feelingly fet forth in one of her letters, 1714.
"You
bid me be eaſy, and you would fee me as often as you
could. You had better have faid, as often as you could
get the better of your inclinations fo much; or as often
as you remembered there was fuch a one in the world.
If you continue to treat me as you do, you will not be
made uneafy by me long. It is impoffible to deſcribe
what I have ſuffered fince I faw you laft. I am ſure I
could have borne the rack much better, than thofe kil-
ling, killing words of your's. Sometimes I have refolved
to die without feeing you more; but thofe refolves, to
your misfortune, did not last long. For there is fame-
thing in human nature, that prompts one fo to find re-
lief in this world, I must give way to it; and beg you
would fee me, and fpeak kindly to me; for I am fure
you'd not condeinn any one to fuffer what I have done,
* In anſwer to a letter which fhe had fent after him by her fervant
when he was on the road to Philips town, he concludes thus: " I
Have rode a tedious journey to-day, and can fay no more. Nor fhail
you know where I am till I come, and then I will fee you. A fig for
your letters and meffages."
Ta
could
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THE LIFE OF
could you but know it. The reaſon I write to you, is,
becauſe I cannot tell it you fhould I fee you. For when
I begin to complain, then you are angry; and there is
fomething in your looks fo awful, that it ftrikes me
dumb. Oh! that you may have but fo much regard for
me left, that this complaint may touch your foul with
pity. I fay as little as ever I can; did you but know
what I thought, I am fure it would move you to forgive
me, and believe, I cannot help telling you this and
live."
But whatever uneafinefs Vaneffa might fuffer from this
conduct of her lover towards her, poor Stella was ſtill
more unhappy. All the fond hopes which fhe had in-
dulged fo many years, the completion of which fhe had
expected upon his preferment, and increaſe of fortune,
were now turned to defpair, from the total filence which
he obſerved on that head, and the remarkable change in
his behaviour towards her. To the pangs of diſappoint-
ment, were added the ftings of jealoufy; for love had
made her too inquifitive, not to find out the cauſe of this
alteration in him. There are fome paffages in the Jour-
nal relative to the Vanhomrighs, which fhew that the
feeds of jealoufy were early fown in her mind, upon
Swift's being fo domeftic there when in London; and
upon Vaneffa's arrival in Dublin, it is more than proba-
ble fhe kept a watchful eye upon their motions. The
following beautiful verfes of her's on that fubject, fhew
clearly fhe was under the dominion of that paffion.
ON JEALOUS Y.
O fhield me from his rage, celeftial Powers!
This tyrant, that embitters all my hours.
Ah Love! you've poorly play'd the hero's part;
You conquer'd, but you can't defend my heart.
When
DOCTOR SWIFT.
277
When firſt I bent beneath your gentle reign,
train:
I thought this monſter baniſh'd from your
But you would raiſe him to ſupport your throne,
And now he claims your empire as his own.
Or tell me, tyrants, have you both agreed
That where one reigns, the other fhall fucceed.
Thus oppreffed at once by love, jealoufy, and difap-
pointment, her fpirits funk, a fettled melancholy preyed
upon her heart, which, with a natural tendency to a de-
caỹ, impaired her health to fuch a degree, as to give the
moft alarming ſymptoms of an approaching diffolution.
Shocked with the apprehenfion of fo fatal an event, where-
of he muſt be conſcious to himſelf he was the cauſe; and
moved with compaffion at the flate to which he faw her
reduced, all Swift's former tenderneſs and affection for
her revived in his breaft; and banished every other idea
from his mind, but what tended to the prefervation of a
life fo precious. He employed a common friend to both
to learn from her the fecret caufe of that dejection of ſpi-
rits, which had fo vifibly preyed upon her health; and
to know whether it was by any means in his power to
remove it; affuring her that nothing ſhould be wanting
on his part, to restore her to that tranquillity of mind,
upon which fo much of his own happinefs depended.
Upon this application Mrs. Johnſon opened her mind
fully to this friend. She told him that from the peculia-
rity of her circumſtances, and the fingular connection the
had with Swift for fo many years, there had been great
room given for the tongue of flander to exert itself. That
ſhe had learned to bear with this patiently, as fhe had
reafon to expect that all reports of that fort would be ef-
faced by marriage, as foon as Swift fhould be in circum-
ftances to make her a propofal of that nature. That he
now faw with the deepeft concern, ever fince his promo-
I 3
tion,
278
THE LIFE OF
J
Z
tion, his behaviour towards her had been wholly changed,
and a cold indifference had fucceeded to the warmeft pro-
feffions of eternal affection. That the neceffary conſe-
quence would be, an indelible ftain fixed upon her cha-
racter, and the lofs of her good name, which was much
dearer to her than life. Swift in anfwer to this, faid,
that he had early in life laid down two maxims with re-
gard to matrimony, from which he was determined never
to depart. One was, never to marry, unless he was be-
forehand poffeffed of a decent provifion for a family; a-
nother was, unlefs this fhould be the cafe at a time of
life when he might reafonably expect to breed up his
children, and fee them properly entered into the world.
With regard to the first article, he was fo far from having
any thing beforehand, that he was ftill in debt: and the
fmall preferment he had obtained, to which he had now
no hopes of ever receiving any addition, gave him but
little profpect of ever accumulating a fortune. And as
to the fecond, he had already paffed that period of life,
after which it was his fixed refolution never to marry.
That of all women upon earth, could he have entered in-
to that state confiftently with thefe principles, fhe ſhould
have been his choice. And as her apprehenfions about
her character's fuffering feemed to weigh the heaviest on
her mind, in order to put an end to thofe, he was ready
to go through the ceremony of marriage with her, upon
two conditions. The firft was, that they fhould continue
to live feparately, exactly in the fame manner as before:
the fecond, that it ſhould be kept a profound fecret from
all the world, unleſs fome urgent neceffity ſhould call for
the difcovery. However fhort of Stella's expectations
thefe conditions might be, yet as ſhe knew the inflexibi-
Jity of Swift's refolutions, fhe readily embraced them,
And as it is probable that her chief uneafinefs arofe from
jealoufy, and the apprehenfions fhe was under that he
might
DOCTOR SWIFT.
279
might be induced to marry Mifs Vanhomrigh, fhe would
at leaſt have the fatisfaction, by this meaſure, of render-
ing fuch a union with her rival impracticable. Accord-
ingly the ceremony was performed without witneffes, and
the connubial knot tied in the year 1716, by Dr. Aſhe,
Biſhop of Clogher, to whom Swift had been a pupil in
the college; and who, as I have been informed, was the
common friend to both, employed in the above negotia-
tion *. But the conditions upon which this union was
formed, were punctually fulfilled. She ftill continued
at her lodgings in a diftant part of the town, where the
received his vifits as ufual, and returned them at the
deanery, in company with her friend Mrs Dingley. As
foon as Swift's finances were in order, he departed from
that ſtrict œconomy which he had obferved while he was
in debt, and kept two publick days, on which he invited
parties of his friends to dinner; where Mrs. Johnſon al-
ways made one of the circle, though without any diftinct
character or place from the other guests. The elegance
of her manners, the fweetnefs of her difpofition, and
brilliancy of her wit, rendered her the general object of
admiration to all who were fo happy as to have a place in
that enviable ſociety. A certain dignity of deportment,
conſcious virtue alone can give, and a native modefty
which fhone forth in all her words and actions, fecured
her from the bufy tongue of flander, nor was the breath
of calumny heard to whiſper againſt her. And whatever
fingularity might appear in this their mode of living, was
only confidered as one of Swift's peculiarities; who, in
many other inftances, did not think himfelf bound to
conform to the ufual cuftoms of the world. There were
* The whole account of this tranfaction was given me by Mrs.
Sican, a Lady of uncommon underftanding, fine talte, and great
goodness of heart: on which account fhe was a great favourite both
with the Dean and Mrs. Johnfon.
ΤΑ
indeed
280
THE LIFE OF
7
1
indeed many idle reafons affigned by bufy curious people,
for their not cohabiting, but none that ever glanced at
her character.
Having fatisfied the fcruples of Mrs. Johnfon by paf-
fing through the ceremony of marriage, whofe recovered
health and ſpirits added new charms to that converfation,
once his fupreme delight, Swift's next care was, to put
an end to any hopes Vaneffa might ftill entertain, againſt
which there was now an infuperable bar. With this view
he paid her a vifit in company with Mr. Dean Winter; a
Gentleman of good fortune, who was her profeffed ad-
mirer, and had made overtures of marriage to her. No.
thing could have been a greater mortification to her love-
fick mind, than fuch a vifit, as it implied a recommenda-
tion of his rival, and an entire renunciation of his own
pretenfions. She rejected his propoſals with difdain, as
well as thofe of every ſuitor who offered, having centered
all her views of happiness in life in the poffeffion of Ca-
denus. To avoid all importunities of that fort, fhe re-
tired to a ſmall houfe on her eftate near Celbridge, where,
in filence and folitude, he indulged her fatal paffion, till
it rofe almoft to a pitch of frenzy. All other ideas but
what related to Cadenus, were banished from her mind,
and all the faculties of her foul were abforbed in love
She wrote conſtantly to him in the moſt paſſionate ſtyle,
nor could the coldneſs of his anfwers in the leaft abate her
flame. The following letter fent to him from Celbridge,
will beft paint the ftate of her mind,
"Tell me fincerely, if you have once wifhed with
earneftnefs to fee me, fince I wrote to you: no, fo far
from that, you have not once pitied me, though I told
you I was diftreffed. Solitude is infupportable to a miņd
which is not eafy. I have worn out my days in fighing,
and my nights with watching and thinking of Cadenus,
who thinks not of me. How many letters fhall I fend
:
you
را
DOCTOR
281
SWIFT.
before I receive an anſwer? Can you deny me, in
you
my mifery, the only comfort which I can expect at pre-
fent?h that I could hope to ſee you here, or that I
could go to you! I was born with violent paffions, which
terminated all in one, that inexpreffible paffion I have for
you. Confider the killing emotions which 1 feel from
your neglect of me; and fhew fome tenderness for me,
or I fhall lofe my fenfes. Sure you cannot poffibly be fo
much taken up, but you might command a moment to
write to me, and force your inclinations to fo great a cha-
rity. I firmly believe, if I could know your thoughts,
(which no creature is capable of gueffing at, becaufe ne-
ver any one living thought like you) I fhould find you
had often, in a rage, wiſhed me religious, hoping then
I ſhould have paid my devotions to Heaven: but that
would not ſpare you; for were I an enthufiaft, ftill you'd
be the Deity I fhould worship. What marks are there
of a Deity, but what you are to be known by? You are
prefent every where; your dear image is always before
my eyes. Sometimes you ftrike me with that prodigious
awe, I tremble with fear: at other times a charming
compaffion ſhines through your countenance, which re-
vives my foul. Is it not more reaſonable to adore a ra-
diant form one has feen, than one only defcribed ?”
We may fee from this
her paffion had arifen.
from Eloifa to Abelard, could exceed thoſe of Vaneſſa to
Cadenus. Length of time, inſtead of diminishing, ferved
only to encreaſe the violence of her paffion; and the ge-
neral coldneſs of her lover, far from extinguiſhing the
flame, made it blaze forth the more. It must be confeſt
indeed, that Swift's conduct towards her was far from
being confiftent. Whatever refolutions he had formed,
to try by neglect and ill ufage to put an end to that ar-
dour of love, which caufed him infinite uneafinefs, yet
epiftle to what a romantic height
Not the moft enthufiaftic ftrains
he
482
THE LIFE OF
he was feldom able to keep them when in her prefence.
Whether compaffion for the fufferings of an unhappy
young woman, whofe life was wafting away in mifery on
his account, operated on his humanity; or whether his
own paffion for her was too ftrong for all his philofophy,
it is certain he could never mufter up refolution enough.
entirely to break off the connection, the only poffible
way by which a cure could be effected. If his coldneſs,
or even rudeneſs, at times, drove her almoſt to deſpair;
at others, the kindneſs of his behaviour, and marks of
tenderneſs, revived her hopes, Or as fhe more ſtrongly
expreffes it in her letter, "Sometimes you ftrike me with
that prodigious awe, I tremble with fear; at other times,
a charming compaffion fhines through your countenance,
which revives my foul." In this alternate fucceffion of
hopes and fears, in this miferable ftate of fufpence, did
the wretched Vaneffa pafs her days till the year 1720,
when Swift feemed determined to put an end to an inter-
courfe, the fource of fo much unhappineſs to both. Up-
on this occafion fhe wrote him the following letter:
Celbridge, 1720.
"BELIEVE me it is with the utmoſt regret that I now
complain to you, becauſe I know your good nature fuch,
that you cannot fee any human creature miferable, with-
out being fenfibly touched. Yet what can I do? I muſt
either unload my heart, and tell you all its griefs, or fink
under the inexpreffible diftrefs I now fuffer, by your pro-
digious neglect of me. It is now ten long weeks fince I
faw you; and in all that time, I have never received but
one letter from you, and a little note with an excufe. Ch!
have you forgot me? You endeavour by feverities to force
me from you. Nor can I blame you; for, with the ut-
moſt diſtreſs and confufion, I beheld myſelf the cauſe of
ungaly reflections to you: yet I cannot comfort you; but
here
DOCTOR SWIFT.
283
here declare, that it is not in the power of art, time, or
accident, to leſſen the inexpreffible paffion which I have
for Cadenus. Put my paffion under the utmoſt reſtraint;
fend me as diftant from you as the earth will allow, yet
you cannot banish thofe charming ideas, which will ever
ftick by me, while I have the uſe of memory. Nor is
the love I bear you only feated in my foul, for there is
not a ſingle atom of my frame, that is not blended with
it. Therefore do not flatter yourſelf that feparation will
ever change my fentiments; for I find myſelf unquiet in
1
the midſt of filence, and my heart is at once pierced with
forrow and love. For Heaven's fake tell me, what has
cauſed this prodigious change in you, which I found of
late. If have you the leaſt remains of pity for me left, tell
it me tenderly. No-do not tell it fo, that it may cauſe
my prefent death. And do not fuffer me to live a life like
a languiſhing death, which is the only life I can lead, if
have loft any of
you
your tenderneſs for me."
When Swift found that all his endeavours in this way
had proved fruitless, and that the love of Vaneſſa for
Cadenus, like that of the faithful Emma to Henry, was
proof againſt all obftacles thrown in its way, he gave way
to the feelings of humanity, and dictates of his heart,
againſt which, with no fmall violence to his inclination,
he had fo long ftruggled, and changed his behaviour to
that of the kind indulgent friend. His letters breathed
fentiments of the greateſt tenderneſs; and in one of July
5, 1721, he makes a declaration of his paffion for her in
the moſt explicit terms, as may be feen in the following
ſentence written in French. Mais foyez aſſurée, que ja-
mais perſonne au monde n'a été aimée, honorée, estimée, a-
dorée, par votre ami, que vous This declaration ſeems
*
* But reft affured, that no perfon upon earth has ever been loved,
honoured, efteemed, adored by your friend, but yourſelf.
3
to
284
THE LIFE OF
A
¡
1
เ
to have been drawn from him by fome defperate ftate
of mind in which he had left her, probably occafioned
by her jealoufy of Stella. For in the beginning of the
fame letter, dated from Gallftown, he fays, "It was
not convenient, hardly poffible, to write to you before
now, though I had more than ordinary defire to do it,
confidering the difpofition I found you in laft, though
I hope I left you in a better. Cadenus affures me, he
continues to eſteem, and love, and value you above all
things, and fo will do to the end of his life; but at the
fame time entreats that you would not make yourſelf
or him unhappy by imaginations."
But as this declaration of Swift's was not followed
by any overture of marriage, the confeffion of his paf-
fion for her, however pleafing it might be at firſt, could
not long adminifter much confolation to her, when
The faw no profpect of reaping any farther fruit from it.
To find herfelf beloved, and at the fame time without
hopes of poffeffing the object of all her wishes, was
rather an aggravation, than a relief to her mifery.
After fuch a confeffion, fhe could fee no reafon for his
not making farther advances. Her fortune was at that
time fufficient to gratify his utmoſt wiſhes, as by the
death of her two brothers and fifter, the whole property
left by her father, which was very confiderable, was
vefted in her. The difproportion in point of age was
now not fo great, as fhe was in her 37th year, and the
Doctor could no longer be charged with having feduced
the affections of a young girl. She therefore con-
cluded, that fome reports which had juft then reached
her, of his being married to Mrs. Johnfon, were but
too well founded, and that this was the real obftacle to
their union. Impatient of the torments which this
idea gave her, fhe determined to put an end to all far-
ther fufpence, by writing to Mrs. Johnfon herfelf upon
this
DOCTOR SWIFT.
285
this head. Accordingly fhe fent a fhort note to her,
only requeſting to know from her whether ſhe was mar-
ried to the Dean or not. Mrs. Johnfon anſwered her
in the affirmative, and then inclofed the note ſhe had
received from Mifs Vanhomrigh to Swift. After which,
the immediately went out of town without feeing him,
or coming to any explanation, and retired in great re-
fentment to Mr. Forde's country-feat at Wood-Park.
Nothing could poffibly have excited Swift's indignation
more than this imprudent ftep taken by Mifs Vanhom-
righ. He knew it muft occafion great difturbance to
Mrs. Johnſon, and give rife to conjectures fatal to her
peace. Her abrupt departure, without fo much as fee-
ing him, already fhewed what paffed in her mind. Ex-
afperated to the higheſt degree, he gave way to the firſt
tranfports of his paffion, and immediately rid to Cel-
bridge. He entered the apartment where the unhappy
Lady was, mute, but with a countenance that ſpoke
the higheſt reſentment. She trembling afked him,
would he not fit down? No-He then flung a paper on
the table, and immediately returned to his horfe.
When, on the abatement of her confternation, fhe had
ſtrength to open the paper, he found it contained no-
thing but her own note to Mrs. Johnfon. Defpair at
once feized her, as if he had feen her death-warrant:
and fuch indeed it proved to be. The violent agita-
tion of her mind threw her into a fever, which in a
fhort time put a period to her exiftence. Swift, on re-
ceiving the tidings of her death, immediately took
horfe and quitted the town, without letting any mortal
know to what part of the world, he was gone. As he
forefaw that this event would give rife to much town-
talk, he thought it moft prudent to keep out of the
way, 'till the firft heat of it was over. And having
never vifited the fouthern part of the kingdom, he took
.
this
286
THE LIFE OF
this opportunity of making a tour there, becaufe having
no acquaintance in thofe parts, he might be a perfect.
maſter of his own motions, and in his folitary rambles,
give free vent to his grief for the lofs of fo beloved an
object, heightened by the bitter aggravation of know-
ing himſelf to be the cauſe of her death. Two months
had elapfed without any news of him, which occafioned
no ſmall alarm among his friends; when Dr. Sheridan
received a letter from him, to meet him at a certain
diftance from Dublin.
Before her death, Mifs Vanhomrigh had cancelled a
will made in favour of Swift, and bequeathed her whole.
fortune to Serjeant Marſhall, and the famous Dr. Berk-
ley, whom the appointed her executors. The former
was a relation, and the other only an acquaintance, for
whoſe perſon and character ſhe had the higheſt eſteem.
In her laft illneſs fhe had laid a ftrong injunction on her
executors, that immediately after her deceafe, they
ſhould publiſh all the letters that paffed between Swift
and her, together with the Poem of Cadenus and Va-
neffa. Accordingly they were put to the prefs, and
fome progreſs made in the letters, when Dr. Sheridan,
getting intelligence of it, and being greatly alarmed
left they might contain fomething injurious to his
friend's character in his abfence, applied fo effectually
to the executors, that the printed copy was cancelled,
but the originals ftill remained in their hands. The
Poem of Cadenus and Vaneffa was however fent abroad
into the world, as being ſuppoſed to contain nothing
prejudicial to either of their characters: though the
prying eye of malice, afterwards found fome hints in
it, which by the help of mifconftruction, might fur-
nish food to the appetite for fcandal.
of
In the mean time Mrs. Johnfon continued at Wood-
Park, where her worthy hoft exerted all the powers
friendship
DOCTOR SWIFT.
287
To
friendship to calm the difturbance of her mind, now
much increaſed by the publication of that Poem.
find there fuch an amiable portrait drawn of Vaneffa,
as one poffeffed of more and greater accompliſhments
than any of her fex, could not fail to excite her envy.
Of which a remarkable proof was given in an anecdote
recorded by Dr. Delany. At this juncture fome gentle-
men happened to call at Wood-Park, who were not
acquainted with Mrs. Johnfon's fituation. As the
newly publiſhed Poem was then the general ſubject of
converfation, they foon fell upon that topic. One of
the gentlemen faid, furely that Vaneffa muſt be an ex-
traordinary woman, that could infpire the Dean to
write fo finely upon her. Mrs. Johnfon fimiled, and
answered, that fhe thought that point not quite fo
clear; for it was well known the Dean could write
finely on a broomstick, We muſt ſuppoſe her to have
been exceedingly galled, when one of her humane
difpofition could utter fuch a farcafm, and thus exult
over the recent afhes of her departed rival.
As there were numbers, through party hatred, and
others through envy, who watched every opportunity
to calumniate the Dean's character, and fpread ftories
to his diſadvantage, the publication of this Poem af-
forded room for malice to exert itself, which was
greedily embraced. There were fome lines in it, which
having the worſt conſtruction put on them, by a very
forced interpretation, might give rife to fufpicions in-
jurious to his character, and totally deftructive of the
Lady's. Yet, fuch is the propenfity of mankind to
lean to the worfe fide, efpecially when any exalted
character is thereby to be brought down more to a level
with themſelves, that this interpretation has been ge-
nerally received, and the calumny accordingly fpread,
though perhaps there never was any built upon a more
Alender
288
THE LIFE OF
flender foundation, as I fhall preſently fhew. The lines
alluded to are the following:
But what fuccefs VANESSA met,
Is to the world a fecret yet:
Whether the nymph, to pleaſe her ſwain,
Talks in a high romantic ftrain;
Or whether he at laft defcends,
To act with lefs feraphic ends;
Or, to compound the bufinefs, whether
They temper love and books together;
Muſt never to mankind be told,
Nor fhall the conſcious muſe unfold.
Theſe lines, confidered as detached from the reft,
might perhaps admit of fuch an interpretation; but
when the whole fcope of the Poem is taken in, it is
impoffible to put a bad one upon them, without giving
up all pretenfions to common fenfe, as well as candour.
Cadenus is reprefented as a Clergyman of the ftrictest
morals, advanced in life, and who had at all times been
proof against any weaknefs with regard to the fair fex.
Vaneffa is drawn as the moſt perfect model of every fe-
male perfection, particularly modefty.
From whence that decency of mind,
So lovely in the female kind,
Where not one careleſs thought intrudes,
Leſs modeft than the fpeech of prudes.
She is repreſented as a pattern for all the fex to copy
after.
As the advanced, that woman kind,
Would, by her model form their mind;
And all their conduct would be try'd
By her, as an unerring guide.
Is
DOCTOR
289
SWIFT.
Is it poffible to conceive, that when a Lady of this
character confeffes a paffion for her reverend tutor, that
any thing could be meant by it but virtuous love, to
terminate in matrimony? If gallantry had been her ob-
ject, in the whole race of mankind fhe could not have
made a more prepofterous choice; though by one of
her refined way of thinking, who conſidered the beau-
ties of the mind, as fuperior to all external accomplifa-
ments, he might have been preferred to all the world
as a huſband.
It is impoffible there could be any miſtake about the
kind of love mentioned in this paffage, were it not for
an expreffion in the fubfequent lines, which might ad-
mit of a bad interpretation, by thofe who do not un-
derſtand the true force of words, which has been on
many occafions the fource of infinite errors among us,
from not ſtudying our own language. The expreffion
I mean, is to be found in the laft of the following lines.
Or, to compound the bufinefs, whether
They temper love and books together,
Muſt never to mankind be told,
Nor fhall the confcious mufe unfold.
Here the word confcious, being much oftener ufed in
a bad than a good fenfe, is apt to miſlead the unwary
reader, and make him conceive that there was fome-
thing in the fecret, diſhonourable to the parties if re-
vealed. But upon examining into the proper meaning
of this word, we fhall find that it has a very different
fenſe when applied to one's felf, and when it refers to
others. Conſciouſneſs, applied to felf, is the perception
of what paffes in a man's own mind; from which pro-
ceeds an internal fenfe of guilt or innocence, by which
we either ſtand acquitted or condemned to ourſelves,
and
U
290
THE LIFE OF
and is therefore equally capable of a good or bad ſenſe.
But when it refers to another perfon, it has nothing to
do with any judgment formed of the rectitude or de-
pravity of the action, it only means that that other
perfon is in the fecret, or privy to the tranfaction, be it
good, or be it bad. And confcioufnefs of this fort can
never affect the nature of the thing itſelf.
Thus when the lover writes,
The filent moon fhone confcious to our loves.
The word confcious does not at all determine the nature
of thoſe loves, whether they were of the chafte or cri-
minal kind, which must be gathered from other cir-
cumſtances. In like manner, when Cadenus fays, "the
conſcious Muſe ſhall not unfold," &c. it can admit of
no other meaning, but that the Mufe, who alone was
in the fecret, fhould never difclofe it, or tell whether he
returned Vaneffa's paffion or not: and that this paffion,
if returned, muſt have been of the pureft and moſt
virtuous kind, has, from other circumftances, been al-
ready fufficiently proved.
It is evident Cadenus looked upon the declaration
made by the Lady, in no other light than an overture
to marriage; as may be feen in the following couplet,
quoted before:
Five thouſand guineas in her purfe,
The Doctor might have fancy'd worfe.
But to put an end to a poffibility of conceiving that
any infinuation of a contrary nature could have dropped
from Swift's pen, it will be fufficient to make it known
that the Poem was not intended for the publick eye;
that it was written folely for the ufe of Vaneffa, upon
*
motives
*
DOCTOR SWIFT.
291
motives already explained; that the only copy of it in
being was in her hands, and in all probability it would
never have feen the light, but for the injunction to her
executors. It may be aſked, if this was the cafe, and
that the Poem was intended only for Vaneffa's infpec-
tion, what occafion was there for thefe lines to her,
who, as well as the Mufe, muit already be conſcious
how matters ftood between them? In anſwer to this,
it is evident that the Poem would be incomplete, if
there were not fome conclufion to the ftory of Cadenus
and Vaneffa. The ftory could poffibly terminate only
in one of the following ways: either Vaneffa, from the
arguments and coldness of her philofophic lover, had
got the better of her paffion, and adopted his Platonic
fyftem; or that Cadenus, after all his refiftance, was
obliged to yield to the all-conquering power of love;
or finding her paffion incurable, had broken off all in-
tercourſe with her; or that the iffue of the affair was
ftill in fufpenfe. As the latter was really the cafe at the
time of writing the Poem, it could then have no other
conclufion. And thofe lines which leave matters in a
dubious ftate, feem only calculated to paint the uncer-
tainty of his own mind, and not to leave Vaneffa with-
out hope, from that very uncertainty, that he might
in time expect a fuitable return of love.
But though it ſhould be allowed, from the above
ftate of the cafe, that at the time of writing this Poem,
neither of the parties had entertained even an idea of
entering into a criminal amour, yet when it is known
that he afterwards carried on a fecret intercourfe with
the Lady during the ſpace of eight or nine years; that
he paffed many hours alone with a young and charm-
ing woman, who loved him to adoration, and for whom
he himſelf was firft infpired with the paffion of love;
it will be hardly credible, that thus circumſtanced,
U 2
they
292
THE LIFE OF
Pray what can be
they ſhould not, in fome unguarded moment, have
given way to the frailty of human nature.
And yet
extraordinary as it may appear, there are many ſtrong
reafons to believe that this never was the cafe. We
have already feen on her firft going to Ireland, what
uncommon pains Swift took to avoid meeting her. Up-
on which Vaneffa writes to him in the following man-
ner: "You once had a maxim, which was to act what
was right, and not mind what the world would fay. I
with you would keep to it now.
wrong in feeing and advifing an unhappy young wo-
man? I cannot imagine." Is this the language of
guilt, or confcious innocence? In all the letters which
paffed between them, whofe publication was fuppreffed,
as before related, I have been affured by one of her ex-
ecutors, the late Judge Marshall, and the fame was con-
ftantly afferted by the other, Biſhop Berkley, that there
was no hint of any criminal amour, which could not ea-
fily have happened in fo long a correfpondence, had that
been the cafe. On the contrary, in the few that have ſeen
the light, we find Swift always praifing her for her vir-
tues, and recommending to her the improvement of her
mind. In his French letter, May 12, 1719, in anſwer
to one of her's written in that language, he fays, Et
que je fuis fot moy de vous repondre en meme language, vous
qui eftes incapable d'aucune fottife, fi ce n'est l'estime qu'il
vous plaift d'avoir pour moy: car il n'y a point de merite,
ni aucun preuve de mon bon gout, de trouver en vous tout ce
que
la nature a donnée a un mortel; je veux dire, l'honneur,
*
"What a blockhead am I to answer you in the fame language!
you who are incapable of any folly, unleſs it be the eſteem you are
pleafed to entertain for me; for it is no merit, nor any proof of my
good tafte, to find out in you all that nature has beflowed on a mortal;
that is to fay, honour, virtue, good fenfe, wit, fweetneſs, agreeable-
nefs, and firmnefs of foul."
la
DOCTOR SWIFT.
293
la vertue, le bon fens, l'efprit, le douceur, l'agrement, et
la fermeté d'ame. And in another of C&tober 15, 1720,
he fays, "When I am not fo good a correfpondent as
I could with, you are not to quarrel, and be governor,
but to impute it to my fituation, and to conclude in-
fallibly, that I have the fame reſpect and kindnefs for
you I ever profeffed to have, and fhall ever preferve;
becauſe you will always merit the utmoft that can be
given you; eſpecially if you go on to read, and ſtill
farther improve your mind, and the talents that nature
has given you."
Indeed the moft probable folution of this intricate
affair is, that Swift, having lived to fuch an advanced
time of life in a ſtate of continence, and a conftant ha-
bit of fuppreffing his defires, at laft loft the power of
gratifying them a cafe by no means fingular, as more
than one inftance of the kind has fallen within my
knowledge. This will appear the more probable, when
we reflect, that in the letter to his kinfian before cited,
he acknowledges himſelf to be naturally of a temper-
ate conſtitution with regard to women, and that he had
never indulged himfelf in illicit amours. Nor did it e-
ver appear, even from report, that he had any commerce
of that kind with any of the fex, which, after the con-
fpicuous figure he made in life, could not fail of being
related by fome of his companions in his early plea-
fures, had there been any foundation for it. This alone
can account for his fingular conduct towards the two
Ladies for his coldnefs to Vanefia, and conftant en-
deavours to bring down the ardours of her paffion, and
lower them to friendship, or a love more of the Pla-
tonic kind, and for his abftaining from the lawful plea-
fures of connubial love with Stella. And I think there
is one ſtrong argument of his never having entered in-
to any commerce of that fort with Vaneffa, that it is
hardly
U 3
294
THE LIFE OF
hardly credible he fhould have refrained, in that cafe,
from a fimilar gratification with Stella, who was pof-
feffed of greater perfonal charms, and was more an ob-
ject of defire, than the other: eſpecially as the former
could not be enjoyed without compunction, and the lat-
ter was a pleaſure of the pureft kind without alloy.
In confirmation of the opinion I have here ſtarted, I
remember a faying of Swift's, "that he never yet faw
the woman, for whofe fake he would part with the
middle of his bed." A faying, which, I believe, all
mankind will judge could come from no perfon, but
one incapable of enjoying the higheſt and moſt inno-
cent of all gratifications here below, when fanctified
by marriage.
I have dwelt the longer on this point, becaufe much
of the moral part of Swift's character depends on it.
For if it should be credited that he could take advan-
tage of her weakneſs to debauch the daughter of a
Lady who received him into her family with the affec-
tion of a fifter, and repofed the fame confidence in him
as if he were her brother; if it fhould appear that for
feveral years he carried on a criminal intrigue with her,
at the fame time that he denied the lawful rites of mar-
riage, due to one of the moſt amiable of her fex; I
am afraid, inſtead of a pattern of the moſt perfect mo-
rality, he must be given up an inftance of uncommon
profligacy, and be juftly charged with a vice, which,
of all others, he moſt detefted, and from which no man
ever was more free, I mean hypocrify.
Though Lord Orrery has acquitted him of this
charge upon the fame principle that has been here laid
down, yet, pro folita bumanitate fua, he has done it
only with a view to place him in a more odious light.
As the account he has given of this affair, affords one
of the ſtrongeſt inftances of the blindneſs of malice,
1
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
295
!
and how far, in fearch of it's gratification, it may over-
ſhoot itſelf, I ſhall here prefent part of it to the Reader,
that he may judge, from that fpecimen, what credit is
due to the reft of the Author's malevolent remarks on
Swift. I fhall begin with his extraordinary Comments
on the following lines in the Poem of Cadenus and Va-
neffa; where in a converfation between them, the Au-
thor gives the following account of her fentiments, as
delivered by her.
She well remember'd, to her coft,
That all his leffons were not loſt,
Two maxims fhe could ftill produce,
And fad experience, taught their ufe:
"That virtue pleas'd by being ſhown,
"Knows nothing which it dares not own:
"Can make us, without fear, difclofe
"Our inmoft fecrets to her foes:
"That common forms were not defign'd
"Directors to a noble mind."
1
Now, faid the nymph, to let you ſee,
My actions with your rules agree
That I can vulgar forms defpife,
And have no fecrets to diſguiſe,
I knew, by what you faid and writ,
What dangerous things were men of wit;
You caution'd me againſt their charms,
But never gave me equal arms;
Your leffons found the weakest part,
Aim'd at the head, and reach'd the heart.
1
Now in thefe lines, according to the plain and ob-
vious meaning of the words, there are no fentiments
which might not have proceeded from the moſt exalted
virtue, and purity of mind, A young Lady, defcribed
as a perfect pattern of modefty, poffeffed of
U 4
that
296
THE LIFE OF
that decency of mind
So lovely in the female kind,
Where not one carelefs thought intrudes,
Lefs modeft than the fpeech of prudes
is here reprefented as about to diſcloſe her paſſion for
her tutor, which was kindled in her breast by his extra-
ordinary talents, and uncommon virtue. As it was
contrary to the received maxims of the world, that a
woman should be the firft to break her mind on fuch an
occafion, the prepares the way by quoting two maxims
of his own which he had taught her; one was, that a
mind confcious of innocence, need never be aſhamed
of diſcloſing its inmoft thoughts: the other, that com-
mon forms, invented to keep the vulgar within bounds,
might be difpenfed with, where a fuperior grandeur of
foul is fhown by breaking through fuch barriers. Know-
ing therefore the purity of her love for an object ſa
worthy of it, fhe is not afhamed to declare it; and
looks upon it as a mark of greatnefs of mind, to be
above the common forms of her fex, in being the first
to difclofe it.
Befides, there were other reafons, which would
juftify her, even in the opinion of the world, for being
the first mover in this cafe, arifing both from difparity
of years and fortune; which might difcourage Cadenus
from paying his addreffes, however he might fecretly
wish to be united to Vanecffa.
Now let us fee in what manner this paffage has been
explained by the noble Remarker on Swift's Life. Im-
mediately after his quotation of the foregoing lines, he
thus expatiates upon them:
(C
Suppofing this account to be true, and I own to
you my Ham, I can fcarce think it otherwife, it is evi-
dent that the fair Vaneffa had made a furpriſing pro-
grefs
DOCTOR SWIFT.
297
grefs in the philofophic doctrines, which he had recei-
ved from her preceptor. His rules were certainly of a
moſt extraordinary kind. He taught her that vice,
as ſoon as it defied fhame, was immediately changed in-
to virtue. That vulgar forms were not binding upon
certain choice ſpirits, to whom either the writings, or
the perſons of men of wit were acceptable. She heard
the leffon with attention, and imbibed the philofophy
with eagerness. The maxims fuited her exalted turn
of mind. She imagined if the theory appeared fo
charming, the practice must be much more delightful.
The clofe connexion of foul and body feemed to re-
quire, in the eye of a female philofopher, that each
fhould fucceed the other in all pleaſurable enjoyments.
The former had been fufficiently regaled, why muſt
the latter remain unfatisfied?-Nature" faid Vaneſſa,
abbors a vacuum, and nature ought always to be obeyed.
She communicated theſe fentiments to her tutor; but
he feemed not to comprehend her meaning, not to con-
ceive the diſtinctio rationis that had taken rife in his own
fchool. He anfwered her in the non-effential modes.
Talked of friendship, of the delights of reafon, of
gratitude, reſpect, and efteem. He almoft preached
upon virtue, and he muttered fome indiftinct phraſes
concerning chastity. So unaccountable a conduct in
Cadenus, may be thought rather to proceed from de-
fects in nature, than from the fcrupulous difficulties of
a tender conſcience. Such a fuppofition will ſtill ap-
pear more strong, if we recollect the diftant manner
in which Swift cohabited with Stella; colder, if poſ-
fible, after, than before fhe was his wife."
I appeal to the Reader whether he ever met in the
moſt ſtupid, or malicious Commentator, fuch a total
perverfion of the meaning of words, To fhew this in
its
298
THE LIFE OF
its strongest light, let us place the Text, and Expla-
nation in oppofition to each other.
TEXT.
That virtue pleas'd by being fhown
Knows nothing which it dares not own:
Can make us, without fear, difclofe
Our inmoft fecrets to our foes.
That common forms were not defign'd
Directors to a noble mind.
EXPLANATION.
That vice, as foon as it
defied fhame, was im-
mediately changed in-
to virtue.
That vulgar forms were
not binding upon cer-
tain choice fpirits, to
whom either the wri-
tings, or the perfons
of men of wit were
acceptable.
According to this account, the man who had been
all his life a votary to virtue; whofe chief delight it
was to inftill the beft principles into the minds of
youth; who had trained the amiable Stella, from her
early days, in fuch a way, as, by the Remarker's own
deſcription of her, made her a model of perfection;
this man, I fay, all of a fudden became a profelyte to
vice; betrayed the confidence repofed in him by the
mother, his particular friend, to corrupt the mind of
her innocent daughter, fo as to make her lofe all fenſe
of ſhame, and even glory in wickedness. And all this,
for what? You will ſuppoſe at leaſt that he had fallen
defperately in love with her, and having no hopes of
marriage, is determined to gratify his paffion at any
rate, and with this view, tries to erafe from her mind
all principles of virtue and modefty, which might
ftand in his way. Quite the contrary. It appears from
the Remarker's own account, that when he had accom-
pliſhed his point, and brought her to as high a degree
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
299
of depravity as he could wifh, in order to gratify his
defires, he changed his whole fyftem, rejected her prof-
fered love, talked of friendſhip, reafon, gratitude, re-
fpect, efteem, and preached upon virtue and chaſtity.
And to account for this inconfiftence in his behaviour,
he has recourſe to defects of nature, and impotence in
the Dean. Now to fuppofe that a Reverend Divine,
advanced in life, fhould lay fuch a plan to corrupt the
mind of his young pupil, without a poffibility of any
view to ſelf-gratification, and merely to prepare her for
proſtitution to others, is to charge him with a crime ſo
truly diabolical, as would ftamp a blacker ftain of in-
famy even on the character of a Chartres. And yet
this is a charge brought by Lord Orrery againſt his
friend Swift.
To expatiate farther on the inconfiftencies, abſurdi-
ties, and impurities, rifing almoft to obfcenity, in the
paffage above quoted, and all that refers to the fame
ſubject, would be utterly unneceffary, as they muſt be
obvious to every Reader of the leaft difcernment.
But I cannot quit this article without endeavouring to
wipe away fome of the moſt cruel and groundleſs afper-
ſions that have been thrown on the memory of the ac-
compliſhed, though unfortunate Vaneffa. In all the
accounts given by Lord Orrery of this Lady, he has
drawn her character as oppofite to that given by Swift,
as darkneſs is to light; and this in fuch poſitive and pe-
remptory terms, that every Reader muſt ſuppoſe he was
well acquainted with her. And yet it is certain he ne-
ver faw her in his life, nor had any opportunity to get
any information about her till many years after her
death, as his firſt viſit to Ireland was in the year 1733.
Without any other outline before him but what was
traced in his own brain, for he does not even pretend
to quote any authority for all that he has advanced up-
on
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THE LIFE OF
on this fubject, fee what a portrait he has drawn of the
celebrated Vaneffa.
"<
Vanity makes terrible devaftation in a female breaſt.
It batters down all reftraints of modefty, and carries
away every feed of virtue. Vaneffa was exceedingly
vain. The character given of her by Cadenus is fine
painting, but, in general, fictitious. She was fond of
drefs; impatient to be admired; very romantic in her
turn of mind; fuperior, in her own opinion, to all her
fex; full of pertnefs, gaiety, and pride; not without
fome agreeable accompliſhments, but far from being
either beautiful or genteel; ambitious, at any rate to
be efteemed a wit, and with that view always affecting
to keep company with wits; a great reader, and a
violent admirer of poetry; happy in the thoughts of be-
ing reputed Swift's concubine, but still aiming and intending
to be his wife; by nature haughty and diſdainful, look-
ing with the pity of contempt upon her inferiors, and
with the fmiles of felf-approbation upon her equals;
but upon Dr. Swift with the eyes of love."
Whoever compares this picture, with that drawn for
Vaneffa in the Poem, will hardly conceive it poffible
that they fhould both be copies of the fame original.
In the one, fhe is reprefented as a model of perfection,
adorned with every grace and virtue that could raife
her above her fex: in the other, as not poffeffed of one
good quality, either of mind or perfon, and replete
with fuch foibles, and bad diſpoſitions, as muſt degrade
her to the loweſt rank. If it be fuppofed that the for-
mer was a very flattering likenefs, and the chief beau-
ties and embellishments there, were only the creatures
of a poetic fancy, let us fee how far the fame painter
has kept up a refemblance, in the more correct draw-
ing, and chafte colouring of profe. For this purpoſe
let us have recourfe to a letter of his written to her in
French,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
301
French, fix years after the Poem, May 12, 1719, part
whereof has been already quoted, and of which the
following is a literal tranflation.
"I make you my compliments on your perfection in
the French language. It is neceffary to be long ac-
quainted with you, in order to know all your accom-
pliſhments: every time, in feeing and hearing you,
new ones appear, which before were concealed. I am
aſhamed to think I know only the Gafcon and Patois in
compariſon of you. There is no objection to be made
either to the orthography, propriety, elegance, eafe, or
ſpirit of the whole. And what a blockhead am I to
anſwer you in the fame language! You, who are inca-
pable of any folly, unless it be the efteem you are
pleaſed to entertain for me: for, it is no merit, nor any
proof of my good taſte, to find out in you all that na-
ture has beſtowed on a mortal; that is to ſay, honour,
virtue, good fenfe, wit, fweetnefs, agreeablenefs, and
firmneſs of foul: but by concealing yourſelf as you do, the
world knows you not, and you lofe the eulogy of millions.
Ever fince I have had the honour of knowing you, I
have always remarked, that neither in private, nor in
general converfation, has one word ever eſcaped you,
which could be better expreffed. And I proteft, that
after making frequently the moft fevere criticifms, I
never have been able to find the leaſt fault, either in
your actions, or your words. Coquetry, affectation,
prudery, are imperfections which you never knew.
And with all this, do you think it poſſible not to eſteem
you above the rest of human kind? What beafts in
petticoats are the moſt excellent of thofe, whom I fee
diſperſed throughout the world, in compariſon of you!
On feeing, or hearing them, I fay a hundred times a
day, fpeak not, look not, think not, do nothing like
thoſe wretches. What a calamity is it to be the cauſe
of
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of bringing down contempt on fo many women, who
but for the thoughts of you, would be tolerable enough.
But it is time to releaſe you from this trouble, and to
bid you adieu. I am, and ever fhall remain, with all
poffible reſpect, fincerity, and eſteem, your's."
Of theſe two oppofite characters, the one was drawn
by a man of the niceft difcernment, from whofe pier-
cing eye, not the fmalleft blemiſh, particularly of fe-
male minds, could lie concealed, and whofe turn lay
much more to fatyr, than panegyrick; by one, who
was intimately acquainted with the Lady for whom it
was drawn, from her early days, to the time of her
death. The other, by a man, who far from having
any knowledge of the original, had never fo much as
feen her perfon. Can there be the leaft doubt then
which is most likely to be the true one? But not to reſt
upon authority alone, I will now fhew that there could
not have been the leaft foundation for fome of the
blackeſt calumnies caft on the character of this unfor-
tunate Lady, in the above quoted paffage. The Au-
thor there fays, "That he was happy in the thoughts
of being reputed Swift's concubine, but ftill aiming
and intending to be his wife." Now we have already
feen what uncommon pretenfions Swift took, on her
arrival in Dublin, to conceal from the world all the
knowledge of his vifiting her; fo that it became ne-
ceffary to her to be as fecret as poffible on that head,
as fhe knew with certainty, that if it once became a
town-talk, fhe ſhould never fee him more, and that he
would at once drop all correfpondence with her, which
was the only confolation left her, in that diftreffed ftate
of mind fo feelingly fet forth in her letters. So that
if ſhe had been fo thoroughly depraved, as to place
any part of her happineſs in a public lofs of character,
fhe could not have been gratified in fo fingular a taſte,
without
5
DOCTOR SWIFT.
303
without parting with the ſubſtance for the fhadow: for,
in the fame ſentence it is faid, "that ſhe ſtill aimed and
intended to be his wife." I believe fo prepofterous a
plan of bringing about a marriage with a man of the
ſmalleſt degree of honour, and character in the world,
that of the Lady's boafting of being his concubine,
never entered into the head of any mortal, but that of
the noble Remarker on Swift's Life. And indeed the
affertion is fo utterly void of foundation, that all the
intercourſe between them, either by vifits or letters,
was carried on in ſo fecret a manner, that not a tittle
of it ever tranfpired during the Lady's life-time; nor
was there the leaſt ſuſpicion of it, till it was at oñce
blazoned to the world, by the publication of the Poem.
As to the other parts of her character, "her being fond
of drefs, impatient to be admired, fetting up for a wit,
and affecting always to keep company with wits," &c.
we find the direct reverfe of this to be true, as ſhe led
a moſt reclufe life, avoiding as much as poffible all ſo-
ciety, and indulging her unhappy paffion in folitude,
which gave rife to that paffage in Swift's letter before
quoted, where he ſays, -"but by concealing yourſelf
as you do, the world knows you not, and you loſe the
eulogy of millions.
>>
But his Lordſhip, not fatisfied with drawing this
odious picture of poor Vaneffa, thought there were fome
finiſhing ſtrokes ftill wanting, to render it more deform-
ed; he therefore adds, upon the circumſtance of Swift's
laft interview, in which he broke with her, the fol-
lowing traits: "She had long thrown away the gentle
lenitives of virtue, which, upon this occafion, might
have proved healing ingredients to fo deep, and fo dan-
gerous a wound. She had preferred wit to religion;
ſhe had utterly deftroyed her character, and her con-
ſcience; and ſhe was now fallen a prey to the horror of
her
304
THE LIFE OF
her own thoughts." Now, if he were giving an ac-
count of the moſt abandoned profligate wretch, that
ever diſgraced her ſex, juſt ready to expiate her crimes
at Tyburn, could he poffibly have expreffed himſelf in
ftronger terms? Let the reader only look over the paſ-
fage once more, and judge. And what were the crimes
committed by the unfortunate Vaneffa, to draw down
on her fo fevere a cenfure. He himself has acquitted
her of any criminal commerce with Cadenus, from a
fuppofed impoffibility in the nature of things. It ne-
ver was furmiſed by any mortal, nor does he himſelf
pretend to infinuate, that ever ſhe engaged in an affair
of gallantry with any other. Nay fo little does he
feem to have been under the influence of any defires
of that fort, that he rejected with difdain all offers of
marriage, placing her whole happiness in the fingle
point of her union with Cadenus; to which, it would
be abfurd to ſuppoſe, from his advanced time of life,
that fenfual gratification could have been a chief mo-
tive. It is evident fhe was poffeffed with an extraordi-
nary paffion for one of the most extraordinary men of
the age, in which the perfevered many years with un-
paralleled conftancy, and at length could not outlive
her difappointment. Is there any thing criminal in
this? Is there any thing in the ſtory which muſt not
raife pity in every breaft, of the leaft humanity? And
yet fee what effect the melancholy cataſtrophe had up-
on the obdurate heart of the noble Remarker! who
winds up her ſtory thus: "Thus perifhed at Celbridge,
under all the agonies of defpair, Mrs. Efther Van-
homrigh; a miferable example of an ill-fpent life, fan-
taſtic wit, viſionary fchemes, and female weakneſs.'
>>
I appeal to the reader, whether he thinks it poſſible
that any venal Writer, hired by an enemy for the purpoſe
of defamation, could have drawn any character in terms
;
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
305
of more rancorous malignity. Nor do I believe there
exifts, even in that proftitute tribe, an individual, who,
in cold blood, without provocation, or proſpect of re-
ward, would fet about fo odious a tafk. What motive
then could induce this Writer to lay afide the Nobleman,
the Gentleman, and the man, to commit an act, which
the moſt hardened affaffin of reputations would be aſham-
ed of? Let us fuppofe, for an inftant, that all he has
faid of this Lady, is true, was he called upon to the
hangman's office, of mangling and embowelling the re-
mains of a deceaſed criminal? But, on the other hand,
when we are fure that he could not himſelf know the
truth of any one affertion he has made; that he does not
even hint at any authority of others, on which he could
rely; and that he has drawn this character in direct op-
poſition to one given to the ſame perſon, by the beſt, and
moſt competent judge, in the world; we ſhould be apt
to conclude, that the whole muſt have proceeded from a
mind, fraught with an uncommon portion of malignity.
But his conduct may be accounted for upon a princi-
ple not quite of fo black a die. His Lordſhip confidered
only how he ſhould appear in the light of an author. He
had before drawn a fancied picture of Stella, whom alſo
he had never feen, in which he had collected ſuch an aſ-
femblage of perfections, from the whole catalogue of fe-
male beauties, graces, virtues, and accompliſhments, as
perhaps never met in any human creature. In his great
liberality, among his other qualities beftowed on her, he
gave her ſkill in mufic, of which he did not know a
note; for fhe neither fung, nor played on any inftrument.
As the drawing of this character coft him no fmall pains,
he took the ufual method of novelifts to fet it off, by
making that of her rival a direct contraft to it: whofe de-
formity, in its turn, became more confpicuous,
poſed to the beautiful colouring in the other.
X
when op-
And in
doing
306
THE LIFE OF
doing this he anſwered another end, which he never lofes
fight of throughout his work, that of degrading Swift as
much as poffible: for, if the characters of thoſe two La-
dies were juftly drawn, nothing could have fhown a more
depraved taſte in Swift, than any preference given to the
latter, over the former.
I ſhall cloſe the hiftory of this unfortunate Lady, with
two little Poems written by her, ftrongly defcriptive of
her ſtate of mind, and affording, in fome meaſure, a con-
firmation of the account I have given of her.
An ODE to SPRING.
HAIL, blushing goddefs, beauteous Spring
Who, in thy jocund train, doft bring
Loves and Graces, fmiling hours,
Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers,
Come, with tints of rofeate hue,
Nature's faded charms renew.
Yet why fhould I thy prefence hail?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with fweets, no more the rofe
With fuch tranfcendent beauty blows,
As when CADENUS bleft the ſcene,
And fhar'd with me thofe joys ferene.
When, unperceiv'd, the lambent fire
Of Friendſhip kindled new defire;
Still liftening to his tuneful tongue,
The truths which angels might have fung,
Divine impreft their gentle fway,
And ſweetly ſtole my foul away.
My guide, inftructor, lover, friend,
(Dear names!) in one idea blend;
Oh! ftill conjoin'd, your incenſe riſe,
And waft fweet odours to the ſkies.
An
DOCTOR SWIFT.
307
An ODE to WISDOM.
OH PALLAS! I invoke thy aid!
Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid,
By tender love depreft;
'Tis juſt that thou ſhould'ſt heal the ſmart,
Inflicted by thy fubtle art,
And calm my troubled breaſt.
No random fhot from CUPID's bow,
But by thy guidance, foft and flow,
It funk within my heart:
Thus, Love being arm'd with Wifdom's force,
In vain I try to ſtop its courſe,
In vain repel the dart.
O Goddefs, break the fatal league,
Let Love, with Folly and Intrigue,
More fit affociates find!
And thou alone, within my breaſt,
O! deign to foothe my griefs to reſt,
And heal my tortur'd mind.
Immediately after the death of Mifs Vanhomrigh, as I
have already mentioned, Swift made a tour of two months
in the ſouthern parts of Ireland: during which Mrs.
Johnſon remained at Wood-park; nor did fhe quit it for
Tome months after his return, probably occaſioned by her
refentment at the preference given by him to her rival.
However upon her return to Dublin,
her return to Dublin, a reconciliation foon
took place. He welcomed her to town in that beautiful
Poem, called "Stella at Wood-park," in which he in-
dulged his ufual vein of raillery, but concludes with a
high compliment to Stella.
For tho' my raillery were true,
A cottage is Wood-park with you.
X 2
He
308
THE LIFE OF
He had an opportunity not long after of fhewing that
he was fincere in this declaration, as he paffed a whole
fummer with her at Quilca, in as inconvenient a cabin,
and as dreary a country as could any where be met with :
and yet he often declared that they were fome of the hap-
pieſt hours of his life which he thus paffed. They were
indeed ſome of the laſt in which he had any enjoyment
in her fociety, as fhe foon after fell into a decline, attend-
ed with fuch ſymptoms as afforded little profpect of any
long continuance of life. The firft account of her ſtate
being defperate, reached Swift in London, as was before
related. The following extracts from his letter to Dr.
Sheridan on the occafion, will beft fhew with what ago-
nies of mind he received it.
"I have your's juft now of the 19th, and the account
you give me, is nothing but what I have fome time ex-
pected with the utmoft agonies. It was at this time the
beft office your friendship could do, not to deceive me.
I look upon this to be the greatest event that can ever
happen to me, but all my preparations will not fuffice to
make me bear it like a Philofopher, nor altogether like a
Chriſtian. There has been the moſt intimate friendſhip
between us from her childhood, and the greatest merit on
her fide, that ever was in one human creature towards
another. Nay, if I were now near her, I would not fee
her; I could not behave myfelf tolerably, and fhould re-
double her forrow. Judge in what a temper of mind I
write this. The very time I am writing, I conclude the
faireft foul in the world has left its body-Confufion!
that I am this moment called down to a vifitor, when I
am in the country, and not in my power to deny myſelf.
I have paffed a very contrained hour, and now return to
fay I know not what. I have been long weary of the
world, and ſhall for my fmall remainder of years be weary
of life, having for ever loft that converfation, which a-
lone could make it tolerable.”
Soon
DOCTOR SWIFT.
309
Soon after this, we have feen that he returned to Ire-
land, where he found the danger over, and was made
happy by her recovery. But on his next journey to Lon-
don in the following year, he was again alarmed with an
account of a moft dangerous relapfe. The effect this had
on him will be beft defcribed by his own expreffions in
his letter to Dr. Sheridan.
"I have had your letter of the 19th, and expect, be-
fore you read this, to receive, another from you, with
the moſt fatal news that can ever come to me, unleſs I
fhould be put to death for fome ignominious crime. I
continue very ill with my giddineſs and deafneſs, and I
fhall be perfectly content if God fhall pleafe to call me at
this time. I beg, if you have not writ to me before you
get this, to tell me no particulars, but the event in ge-
neral: my weaknefs, my age, my friendship will bear no
I do not intend to return to Ireland fo foon as I
purpoſed; I would not be there in the midst of grief.
Neither my health nor grief will permit me to fay more.
This ftroke was unexpected, and my fears laft year were
ten times greater."
more.
In a fubfequent letter he fays, "If I had any tolerable
health, I would go this moment to Ireland; yet I think
I would not, confidering the news I daily expect to hear
from you. I have juſt received yours of Auguſt the
24th. I kept it an hour in my pocket, with all the fuf-
penſe of a man who expected to hear the worst news that
fortune could give him, and at the fame time was not a-
ble to hold up my head. These are perquifites of living
long; the laft act of life is always a tragedy at beft; but
it is a bitter aggravation to have one's beſt friend go be-
fore one.
I do profeſs, upon my falvation, that the dif
treſſed and deſperate condition of our friend, makes life
fo indifferent to me, who by courfe of nature have fo lit-
tle left, that I do not think it worth the time to ftruggle,
X 3
yet
310
THE LIFE OF
yet I fhould think, according to what had been formerly,
that I may happen to overcome this diforder; and to
what advantage? Why, to fee the lofs of that perſon,
for whoſe fake only life was worth preferving. What
have I to do in this world? I never was in fuch agonies as
when I received your letter, and had it in my pocket.
I am able to hold up my forry head no longer."
Let any one who underſtands the language of nature,
judge whether the Writer of the above paffages, had not
a heart fufceptible of the utmost tenderneſs and warmth
of friendſhip.
Nor was it to his friend Sheridan alone that he thus
opened his heart; I have a letter before me, never pub-
lifhed, to Mr. Stopford, then at Paris, dated from
Twickenham, July 20, 1726, in which is the following
paffage: "I fear I fhall have more than ordinary reafons.
to wish you a near neighbour to me in Ireland, and that
your company will be more neceffary than ever, when I
tell you that I never was in fo great dejection of ſpirits.
For I lately received a letter from Mr. Worral, that one
of the two oldeſt and dearest friends I have in the world,
is in fo defperate a condition of health, as makes me ex-
pect every post to hear of her death. It is the younger
of the two, with whom I have lived in the greatest friend-
ſhip for thirty-three years. I know you will ſhare in my
trouble, becauſe there were few perfons whom I believe
you more efteemed. For my part, as I value life very
little, fo the poor cafual remains of it, after fuch a loſs,
would be a burden that I muft heartily beg God Al-
mighty to enable me to bear; and I think there is not a
greater folly than that of entering into too ftrict and par-
ticular a friendſhip, with the lofs of which a man muſt be
abfolutely miferable, but efpecially at an age when it is
too late to engage in a new friendship. Befides, that was
a perſon of my own rearing and inſtructing from child-
2
hood,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
311
hood, who excelled in every good quality that can pof-
fibly accompliſh a human creature. They have hitherto
written me deceiving letters, but Mr. Worral has been fo
juſt and prudent as to tell me the truth; which, how-
ever racking, is better than to be ftruck on the fudden.
Dear James, pardon me. I know not what I am faying,
but believe me that violent friendship is much more laft-
ing, and as much engaging, as violent love. Adieu.
"If this accident fhould happen before I fet out, I
believe I ſhall ſtay this winter in England, where it will
be at leaſt eaſier to find fome repofe than upon the fpot."
However, as ſhe ftill continued to linger on, dying by
flow degrees, he returned to Dublin, as we have before
ſeen, in order to diſcharge the laft melancholy offices of
friendſhip, by ſmoothing her paffage to the grave, and
foftening the terrors of death with all the comfortable
hopes which religion can hold forth. The prayers com-
poſed by him on this occafion, are written in as pure a
ſtrain of Chriſtian piety, as ever came from an uninſpired
pen.
A fhort time before her death a fcene paffed between
the Dean and her, an account of which I had from my
father, and which I fhall relate with reluctance, as it
feems to bear more hard on Swift's humanity than any
other part of his conduct in life.
of his conduct in life. As the found her final
diffolution approach, a few days before it happened, in
the preſence of Dr. Sheridan, fhe addreffed Swift in the
moſt earneſt and pathetic terms to grant her dying re-
queſt. That as the ceremony of marriage had paſſed be-
tween them, though for fundry confiderations they had
not cohabited in that ſtate, in order to put it out of the
power of flander to be buſy with her fame after death,
The adjured him by their friendſhip to let her have the fa-
tisfaction of dying at leaſt, though ſhe had not lived, his
acknowledged wife. Swift made no reply, but turning
X 4
ON
312
THE LIFE OF
on his heel, walked filently out of the room, nor ever
faw her afterwards during the few days he lived. This
behaviour threw Mrs. Johnfon into unfpeakable agonies,
and for a time fhe funk under the weight of fo cruel a
difappointment. But foon after, roufed by indignation,
The inveighed againſt his cruelty in the bittereft terms;
and fending for a lawyer, made her will, bequeathing her
fortune by her own name to charitable ufes. This was
done in the prefence of Dr. Sheridan, whom fhe appoint-
ed one of her executors. Upon this occafion the Doctor
gave an inſtance of his difinterefted fpirit; for when Mrs.
Johnfon mentioned his name to the lawyer, annexing a
very handſome legacy to it, the Doctor immediately in-
terpofed, and would not fuffer it to be put down, faying,
that as the difpofed of her fortune to fuch pious ufes, he
fhould think he defrauded the charity if he accepted of
any part of it. During the few days fhe lived after this,
Dr. Sheridan gave her conftant attendance, and was in the
chamber when the breathed her laft. His grief for her lofs
was not perhaps inferior to the Dean's. He admired her
above all human beings, and loved her with a devotion as
pure as that which we would pay to Angels. She, on
her part, had early fingled him out from all the Dean's
acquaintance, as her confidential friend. There grew up
the cloſeſt amity between them, which fubfifted, without
interruption, to the time of her death. During her long
illneſs, he never paffed an hour from her which could be
fpared from bufinefs; and his converfation, in the Dean's
abfence, was the chief cordial to fupport her drooping
fpirits. Of her great regard for him Swift bears tefti-
mony, in the clofe of one of his letters to him from Lon-
don, where he fays, "I fear while you are reading this,
you will be hedding tears at her funeral: fhe loved you
well, and a great fhare of the little merit I have with you,
is owing to her folicitation." No wonder therefore if the
Doctor's
DOCTOR SWIFT.
313
Doctor's humanity was fhocked at the laſt ſcene which he
faw paſs between her and the Dean, and which affected
him fo much, that it was a long time before he could be
thoroughly reconciled to him.
Yet on the Dean's part it may be faid, that he was
taken by ſurpriſe, and had no reafon to expect fuch an
attack at that time. We have already feen the motives
which induced him to go through the ceremony, and the
conditions upon which it was performed. After feveral
years paffed without any confequence from it, or any rea-
fon offered for publiſhing this to the world, it feems to
have been agreed between them that the whole ſhould be
buried in oblivion, as if no fuch thing had ever happened.
Infomuch, that he had recommended it to her to make
her will, and bequeath her fortune to a charitable uſe
which he had pointed out to her. The marriage was evi-
dently a mere matter of form, intended only to fatisfy
fome vain fcruples of the Lady, without any view to the
ufual ends of matrimony, and therefore was in fact no
marriage at all. To acknowledge her as his wife, when
in reality fhe never had been fuch, would be to give
fanction to a falfhood, and at the fame time afford an op-
portunity to buſy tongues to draw a thouſand inferences
prejudicial to his character. Or, if the real ſtate of the
cafe were known, and it were believed that no confum-
mation ever followed on this marriage, yet he thought it
would ill become the character of a dignitary of the
church, to have it known to the world that he had made
a mockery of fo facred a ceremony, though he might re-
concile it to himſelf upon principles of humanity. Be-
fides, the tongue of fcandal had been very bufy with his
fame in regard to Mifs Vanhomrigh; and they who could
charge him with an illicit amour there, would not fail to
aggravate the matter, by fhewing that he had a wife at
the fame time. On thefe confiderations he had long re-
folved
314
THE LIFE OF
folved that the fecret of the ceremony's having paffed be-
tween them, ſhould never be divulged; and he had all
the reaſon in the world to believe that Mrs. Johnſon was
in the fame ſentiments. How anxious he was to guard
againſt any appearance of that fort, we may learn from
his letters to Mr. Worral, written from England at the
time her life was defpaired of. In which there are the
following paffages, July 15, 1726. "What you tell
me of Mrs. Johnfon, I have long expected, with great
oppreffion and heavinefs of heart.
I have theſe two
months ſeen through Mrs. Dingley's difguifes: and in-
deed ever fince I left you, my heart has been ſo funk,
that I have not been the fame man, nor ever fhall be
again, but drag on a wretched life, 'till it fhall pleaſe
God to call me away. I wish it could be brought about
that he might make her will. Her intentions are, to
leave the intereft of all her fortune to her mother and fif
ter, during their lives, and afterwards to Dr. Stephens's
hofpital, to purchaſe lands for fuch ufes there, as the de-
figns. Think how I am diſpoſed while I write this, and
forgive the inconfiftencies. I would not for the univerſe
be prefent at fuch a trial, as that of feeing her depart.
She will be among friends, that upon her own account
and great worth, will tend her with all poffible care,
where I fhould be a trouble to her, and the greateſt tor-
ment to myſelf. In cafe the matter fhould be deſperate,
I would have you advife, if they come to town, that they
fhould be lodged in fome healthy airy part, and not in the
Deanery; which befides, you know, cannot but be a
very improper thing for that boufe to breathe her la
in."
'
es By
In another of September 12, 1727, he fays,
Dr. Sheridan's frequent letters, I am, every poſt, ex-
pecting the death of a friend, with whofe lofs I fhall have
very little regard for the few years that nature may
leave
me.
DOCTOR
315
SWIFT.
me.
I defire to know where my two friends lodge. I
gave a caution to Mrs. Brent, that it might not be in *
domo decani, quoniam hoc minime decet, uti manifeftum eſt:
habeo enim malignos qui finiftre hoc interpretabuntur, fi eve-
niat (quod Deus avertat) ut illic moriatur.'
>>
Thus predetermined as he was in this point, and fa-
tisfied that Mrs. Johnfon perfectly acquiefced in it, no-
thing could have aſtoniſhed him more than ſuch a pro-
pofal. He thought it both unkind and unreaſonable
in his bofom friend to make fuch a requeft; which, if
granted, could be of no ufe to her when dead, and
might be the caufe of much uneafineſs to him the fur-
vivor. The pretence fhe made with regard to her cha-
racter, he knew could be only a pretence, as no woman
living had a more unblemished reputation, being con-
fidered by all who knew her as a perfect pattern of mo-
defty to her ſex, and fo reported in the world. It might
therefore be imputed, with probability, to no other
cauſe but vanity; to have her name preſerved to future
ages as the wife of fo extraordinary a man; and he might
think himſelf not bound to gratify a weakneſs in her,
at the expence of procuring much difquiet to himſelf,
And though there was an apparent cruelty in his beha-
viour on this occafion, yet whoever could have looked
into his breaſt at the time, would probably have found
it agitated with as deep a concern at his not being able
to comply with her requeft, as fhe was at his refuſal of
it.
A relation of this tranfaction fully confirms the ac-
count I have given of the nature of their union. For
the only unequivocal proof remaining of the ceremony's
having paffed between them, arifes from Mrs. Johnfon's
In the Deanery-houfe, becaufe this would evidently be very im-
proper, as I have many maligners, who would put a bad interpreta-
tion on it, if it should happen (which God forbid!) that the fhould die
there.
declaration
}
316
LIFE OF
THE
declaration of it, in the prefence of Dr. Sheridan, at
the time above-mentioned. And as the fact has of late
been denied, upon the authority of perfons fo cloſely
connected with the parties, as to give it great weight,
I thought it neceſſary to adduce this indubitable proof
of the truth of the account which I have given of that
affair.
Upon this occafion, there is one obfervation to be
made much to Swift's honour; which is, that in refu-
fing to acknowledge Mrs. Johnfon as his wife, he gave
up all pretenfions to her fortune, which otherwiſe muſt
of courſe have come to him. But he had no view to-
wards any inheritance from her, either as a wife, or a
friend. For we find by his letter to Worral above
quoted, that he had long before fuggefted the idea to
her of leaving her fortune to charitable uſes, and feems
preffing that the fhould be prevailed on to make her
will accordingly. The fame difinterefted fpirit did he
fhew with regard to Mifs Vanhomrigh, breaking off all
connection with her at a time when he knew fhe had in
her will bequeathed her whole fortune to him, which
was very confiderable. So that, at this period of his
life at leaſt, avarice had laid no hold of him.
Thus have I given a true relation of the nature of
Swift's connection with Mrs. Johnfon, and laid open
the cauſe of their never having cohabited after the ce-
remony of marriage had paffed between them. To
account for which fo many conjectures have been for-
med without any foundation. Among thefe there was
one ſo very abfurd, and fo utterly impoffible to be true,
that it is wonderful how it could ever gain any credit;
and yet this report was for a long time generally ſpread
and believed. It was afferted, without any fhadow of
proof, that Mrs. Johnfon was a natural daughter of Sir
William Temple's; and in the fame way, that Swift
was
DOCTOR
317
SWIFT.
was his fon, and that the diſcovery of this confangui-
nity, when or how made was never told, was the caufe
of their not cohabiting. Now to overthrow this, it is
only neceffary to examine the time of Swift's birth,
which was in November 1667, and to fhew that Sir
William Temple had been employed as Ambaffador in
the treaty of Nimeguen, two years before, and three
years after that date, during which time he refided con-
ftantly abroad. And indeed there is good reaſon to be-
lieve that he never fo much as faw Swift's mother in
his life. This was fo clearly fhewn by Dr. Delany,
that any mention of it here might be thought unnecef
fary, had there not been publiſhed ſince that time a moſt
circumftantial account of that affair, in the Gentle-
man's Magazine for November 1757, in which the
Writer pretends to give the whole account of Mrs.
Johnſon's Life, as well as that of her mother, with
fuch a confident air, and fo many minute particulars, as
deceived one of the Editors of Swift's Works into a be-
lief that the account was authentic; infomuch, that he
has inſerted the whole in the notes upon one of the vo-
lumes. How he came to place fuch implicit confidence
in the veracity of an Anonymous Writer, is ftrange;
but it would be eafy to prove, that the whole of this
fictitious tale was the invention of fome noveliſt, who
had a mind to amufe himſelf with fhewing how eafily
the credulity of mankind is impofed on, by any ex-
traordinary or marvellous ftory. However, in order to
deſtroy the fabric, it will be only neceffary to fay, that
the whole was founded upon a fact already proved im-
poffible to be true, which is that Swift was Sir William
Temple's fon. And with refpect to Mrs. Johnſon,
there can be no reaſon to doubt the authority of Swift's
account, who, in the little Tract written on her death,
has this paffage. "She was born at Richmond in
Surry,
318
THE LIFE OF
Surry, on the 13th day of March in the year 1681.
Her father was a younger brother of a good family in
Nottinghamshire, her mother of a lower degree; and
indeed ſhe had little to boaſt of her birth."
Having thus developed his conduct, which has hi-
therto appeared in fo myfterious a light to the world,
with regard to the two unfortunate Ladies, who had
placed their affections on an object probably not capable
of making a fuitable return, or who, at leaft, had fhewn
himfelf a perfect Platonift in love; I fhall now examine
his character with regard to the ftill nobler affection of
the human mind, I mean friendship. There have been
already many inftances given in the courſe of this work,
to fhew that he had a heart fufceptible of the warmest
impreffions of that fort, but ftill his friendſhip was por-
tioned out among numbers; and it feems to have been
almoſt equally ſhared by Addiſon, Prior, Arbuthnot,
Gay, Pope, Lord Oxford, Duke of Ormond, Lord Pe-
terborough, and many others; but to the perfection of
true friendſhip it is neceffary that there fhould be one
particular individual, ſelected from the rest of mankind,
who may be confidered as another felf, to whom we can
unbofom our moft fecret thoughts, before whom we
are not afhamed to lay open our weakneffes and foibles,
or, in the expreffive phrafe, to think aloud. This poſt
was never hitherto occupied by any man; but Swift
found no deficiency on that account, as it was amply,
and more pleaſingly fupplied by one of the other fex,
the incomparable Stella. And to this, in process of
time, did Sheridan fucceed. His acquaintance with
the Dean commenced foon after his fettlement in Ire-
land in the following manner. The Dean, who had
heard much of Sheridan as a man of wit and humour,
defired a common friend to bring them together. They
paffed the day much to their mutual fatisfaction; and
when
DOCTOR SWIFT.
319
when the company broke up at night, Swift in his
uſual ironical way, faid, "I invite all here prefent to
dine with me next Thurfday, except Mr. Sheridan,"
but with a look which expreffed that the invitation was
made wholly on his account. There are certain fpirits,
concordès animæ, that on the first interview feel an irre-
fiftible attraction to each other, and rush into friend-
ſhip, as fome do into love, at firſt ſight; and fuch was
the cafe between theſe two men of genius, who had a
great fimilarity both of diſpoſition and talents; and who
in a ſhort time became infeparable. This union was
forwarded, and afterwards cemented by Stella, who
gave the Doctor the preference to all the Dean's other
friends. As Swift had paffed very little time in Dublin
previous to his fettling there, he had very few acquaint-
ance except among thoſe of high ſtation; to the pro-
motion of fome of whom he had contributed, and did
good offices to others, when he was in power; fuch as
the Primate, Archbishop of Dublin, the Lord Chan-
cellor Phipps, Biſhop Sterne, &c. but as he wished for
a fociety where he could be more at his eafe, and in-
dulge his fportive fancy, Sheridan introduced him into
a numerous acquaintance of the moft diftinguiſhed
men of those times for talents, erudition, and com-
panionable qualities. As he was allowed to be the firſt
ſchoolmaster in the kingdom, an intimacy with thofe
Fellows of the College, whofe acquaintance he chofe
to cultivate, followed of courfe; and there happened
at that time to be a greater number of learned and in-
genious men in that body, than ever had been known
before at any given period. An acquaintance naturally
commenced with fuch families of diftinction as en-
trufted their children to his care. Beſides, as he was
looked upon to be one of the moſt agreeable compa-
panions in the world, his fociety was much courted by
all
329
THE LIFE OF
all perfons of tafte. With a felect fet of thefe did Swift
paſs moſt of his feftive hours for many years; but in
the round of entertainments care was always taken to
engage Sheridan before a party was fixed, as the Dean
was never known to be in perfect good humour, but
when he was one of the company.
As many of the evening parties were made up of this
choſen ſet in the college, where fubjects of literature
were often the topics of converfation, Swift, who could
not bear to be confidered in an inferior light by any fo-
ciety into which he had entered, found it neceſſary to
revive his knowledge of Greek and Latin, which in the
hurry of politics and bustle of the world, he had fo long
neglected. With this view he invited Dr. Sheridan to
pafs his vacations with him at the Deanery, where an
apartment was fitted up for him, which ever after, went
by his name; and affifted by him he went through a
complete courfe of the Greek and Roman claffics. This
gave him a full opportunity of feeing the profound
knowledge which the Doctor had of thofe languages;
and he ever after pronounced him to be the beſt ſcho-
lar in Europe. Thus living together frequently in the
fame houſe, in a communion of the ſame ſtudies, and
the fame amuſements, a clofer connection and more
intimate union followed, than Swift had ever known
with any mortal except Stella. As Sheridan was the
moft open undiſguiſed man in the world, it did not re-
quire much time or penetration to fee into his whole
character; in which Swift found many things to ad-
mire, many things to love, and little to offend. He
had the ſtricteft regard to truth, and the higheſt ſenſe
of honour; incapable of diffimulation in the ſmalleſt
degree; generous to a fault, and charitable in the ex-
treme. Of a proud independent fpirit, which would
not ſuffer him to crouch to the great ones of the world
for
DOCTOR SWIFT.
321
for any favour, nor to put on even the appearance of
flattery. He had a heart formed for friendſhip, in
which Swift had the first place. It was impoffible not
to eſteem a man poffeffed of qualities fo congenial with
his own; but his affection was engaged by thofe of a
lefs exalted kind, and more pleafing in the general in-
tercourſe of life. Sheridan had a lively fancy, and a
furpriſing quickness of invention. He had fuch a per-
petual flow of ſpirits, fuch a ready wit, and variety of
humour, that I have often heard his acquaintance fay,
it was impoffible for the moft fplenetic man not to be
cheerful in his company. Imagine what a treaſure this
muſt be to Swift, in that gloomy ftate of mind, into
which the difappointment of all his views, upon the
Queen's death had thrown him; and in which we find
from his letters, he continued fo many years. Defpair
of doing any good, had turned his thoughts wholly
from public affairs, which before had ingroffed fo much
of his time; and he was not in a difpofition to fet about
any work that would require much thought, or labour
of the brain; he therefore gave himfelf wholly up to
the bagatelle, and to writing nothing but jeux d'efprit;
in which no one was better qualified to keep up the ball
than Sheridan. For one whole year it was agreed that
they ſhould write to each other in verfe every day, and
were to be upon honour that they would take up no
more than five minutes in compofing each letter.
Numbers of Riddles, Anglo-Latin Letters, and other
whims of fancy were produced in the fame way.
way. But
as thefe were only intended for private amufement, moſt
of them, when they had ferved their turn, were com-
mitted to the flames. Some few, however, have eſca-
ped, and are printed in his Works; which may ferve
to gratify the curiofity of fuch Readers, as may be de-
firous to have a private peep, as it were, at the fancy of
I
this
322
THE LIFE OF
this great genius, when frolickfome and unrestrained
fhe was playing her fportive gambols en deshabille.
With all theſe good qualities and pleafing talents,
Swift law fome weakneffes and infirmities in his friend,
which he in vain endeavoured to cure. However ſkilled
he might be in books, he was a perfect child as to the
knowledge of the world. Being wholly void of artifice
and defign himſelf, he never fufpected any in others;
and thus became the dupe of all artful men with whom
he had any connection. As he knew not how to fet a
true value on money, he had no regard to economy;
and his purfe was always open to the indigent, without
In con-
confidering whether he could afford it or not.
verfation, his fancy was not always under the direction
of diferetion, and he frequently gave offence by fudden
fallies, without intending it. Swift acted the part of a
true friend on thefe occafions, and was not fparing of
his admonitions and advice as opportunities offered;
but he found the Doctor too opinionated to be guided
by the judgment of others, though his own was too
weak to reſtrain his natural propenfities. In this cafe
the beſt ſervice to be done, was, to increafe his income
in proportion to the largenefs of his fpirit, as his fpirit
was not to be confined within the bounds of his income.
With this view Swift was indefatigable in his endea-
vours to promote the flouriſhing ſtate of his fchool.
He recommended him to all as the ableft Maſter of the
age; and publiſhed a Copy of Latin Verfes in his praiſe
as fuch; he defcended even at times to act as his Ufher;
and frequently attended at ſchool to hear a claſs; when
the Doctor was ill, or abfent in the country, he fup-
plied his place; and was always one of the Examiners
at the Public Quarterly Examinations. Such attention
paid by one of Swift's high character, could not fail of
raifing the reputation of the fchool; and accordingly it
increaſed
DOCTOR SWIFT.
323
increafed fo rapidly, that in a few years the number of
ſcholars far exceeded that of any other feminary ever
known in that kingdom. But Swift faw with concern
that his expences kept pace with his income, and in-
creaſed in the fame proportion. Indulging his natural
difpofition, he made frequent coftly entertainments,
and on certain days when he was freed from the after-
noon attendance on fchool, his table was open to all
bons vivans, jovial companions, &c. And where mirth
and good wine circulated fo brifkly, it is to be fuppofed
there was no lack of gueſts. Swift faw there was no
likelihood of any change in his conduct, while he con-
tinued in the fame place, and affociated with the fame
fets. In compaffion therefore to his young and yearly
increafing family, he formed the defign of having him
removed, upon very advantageous terms, to a diftant
part of the kingdom, where he would have no fuch
temptation to indulge the extravagance of his difpofi-
tion. It happened at that time that the ſchoolmaſter of
Armagh was in a declining ſtate of health. That ſchool
was richly endowed with lands, whofe clear rent amount-
ed to four hundred pounds a year, a confiderable income
in thoſe days, and fully equal to double that fum at
prefent. Swift wrote to a friend in Armagh to fend off
an exprefs to him inftantly on the death of the incum-
bent. Immediately on the receipt of this, he waited
on Primate Lindfay (to whofe advancement Lindfay
himſelf acknowledges in one of his letters, Swift had
chiefly contributed) faying he had a favour to beg of
him. That he was going to turn ſchoolmaster, and de-
fired he would give him the ſchool of Armagh. It is
not vacant, faid the Primate. Yes but it is, faid Swift,
fhewing him the letter he had received by exprefs. Af-
ter fome raillery from the Primate on the Dean's turn-
ing fchoolmafter, Swift at laft faid, Well, my Lord,
Y 2
let
32.4
LIFE OF
THE
1
let me have the difpofal of the fchool, and I'll engage
to fill it up to your mind; I mean to place Sheridan in
it. The Primate confented without hefitation. Swift
immediately went to the Doctor with the news, who
had not the leaft previous intimation of the affair from
the Dean. After due acknowledgments of his kind-
nefs on this occafion, Sheridan faid that he muſt take
fome time to confider of it, and that he could not take
a ftep, upon which the whole colour of his future life
depended, without confulting his friends. Your friends,
faid Swift, you will ever be a blockhead as to the world:
becauſe they are pleafed with your company, and gra-
tify themſelves in paffing many happy hours with you
in focial mirth, you fuppofe them to be your friends.
Believe me there is little true friendship in the world;
and it is not impoffible but the very men who now hug
you to their bofoms, may hereafter turn out to be your
inveterate enemies. Take my advice; confult none of
them; but accept without heſitation of an offer which
will fecure you a handfome income for life, independent
of cafualties. Befides, your fchool will probably flou.
rifh as much there as here, as the high reputation you
have gained in Dublin will follow you to the North,
and fecure to you all the boys of that most populous
and opulent part of the kingdom.
The Doctor ftill perfifted in his refolution of con-
fulting his friends; and at a meeting of them for that
purpofe, chiefly compofed of the Fellows of the Col-
lege, they were unanimously of opinion that he ſhould
by no means accept of the propofed offer. They re-
prefented to him that his fchool was in a moft flouriſh-
ing ftate, and likely to increafe daily. That he could
not hope to have any thing like the number of pupils
in a country town, as in the capital; and his income,
even with the addition of the endowment, would pro-
bably
1
!
DOCTOR SWIFT.
325
bably not be greater. That by refiding in Dublin, he
might make fuch powerful connections, as would raife
him to confiderable church preferments, all expectation
of which he muft give up if he buried himfelf in an ob-
fcure corner of the kingdom. By thefe, and other ar-
guments of the like nature, the Doctor was easily per-
fuaded to follow the bent of his inclination. For it
mouft have been with great reluctance that he would
have quitted the fociety of fuch a number of learned,
ingenious, and agreeable men, as then formed the
circle of his acquaintance.
The Doctor had too much reafon afterwards to re-
pent of his not having followed Swift's advice, as what
he had foretold, in a few years came to pals. Thoſe
very men, whom he confidered as his best friends, fet
up another ſchool in oppofition to his, which they ſup-
ported with all their intereft, of which the Doctor fpeaks
in the following manner in a letter to Swift: "As for
my quondam friends, as you ftile them, quondam them
all. It is the most decent way I can curfe them; for
they lulled me afleep, till they ftole my fchool into the
hands of a blockhead, and have driven me towards the
latter part of my life to a difagreeable folitude; where
I have the mifery to reflect upon my folly in making
fuch a perfidious choice, at a time when it was not in
my nature to fufpect any foul upon earth." In anſwer
to which Swift fays-"I own you have too much rea-
fon to complain of fome friends, who, next to your-
felf, have done you moſt hurt; whom I ftill efteem and
frequent, although I confefs I cannot heartily forgive.
Yet certainly the cafe was not merely perfonal malice to
you (although it had the fame effects) but a kind of I
know not what jobb, which one of them hath often
heartily repented."
Nothing could place Swift's friendship in a more con-
spicuous or difinterefted light, than this whole tranfac-
¥ 3
tion,
326
THE LIFE OF
tion. To have parted with Sheridan at that period of
life, when all was gloom about him, when he moſt
wanted fuch a friend to raiſe his drooping fpirits, and
fuch an affociate in the only amuſements which he was
then capable of relishing, would have been to him like
the lofs of a limb. Yet when he thought that it was
neceffary for the interefts of the Doctor and his family,
that he ſhould remove from his fettlement in town, to
a more advantageous and fecure one in the country, he
himfelf planned the fcheme of his removal, which was
likely to end, with but few intervals, in a feparation.
for life. How different is this from the falfe reprefenta-
tion made of him by Lord Orrery. He had faid
"The affection between Thefeus and Pirithous, was
not greater than between Swift and Sheridan; but the
friendship that cemented the two ancient heroes, pro-
bably commenced upon motives very different from
thofe which united the two modern Divines.' His
Lordſhip did not think proper to ftate what thofe mo-
tives were; and after having drawn Sheridan's charac-
ter, with as little regard to truth, and in many points,
as little refemblance to the original as any of his other
portraits, he affigns Swift's clofe attachment to him to
the meanest and moſt ſelfiſh motives; where he fays
"In this fituation, and with this difpofition, Swift faſt-
ened upon him as upon a prey, with which he intended
to regale himſelf whenever his appetite fhould prompt.
him. Sheridan therefore was kept conftantly within
his reach; and the only time he was permitted to go
beyond the limits of his chain, was, to take poffeflion
of a living in the county of Corke, which had been
beſtowed upon him by the then Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland."
'
>>
For many years after this fruitless attempt to ferve
his friend, Swift had it not in his power to promote his
interefts
DOC
327
DOCTOR SWIFT.
interefts in any other way, being the moft obnoxious
of any man living to thofe who were then in power.
But on the appointment of Lord Carteret to the Go-
vernment of Ireland, who had been one of his old
friends, Doctor Sheridan was the firit he recommended
to his protection. He got him appointed one of his
domeftic Chaplains, with a promife of making a provi-
fion for him in the Church. Lord Carteret, who was
himſelf an excellent fcholar, foon diftinguiſhed the
Doctor's merit in that line, nor was he lefs pleaſed with
him as a companion, often inviting him to his private.
parties, and fometimes, laying his ſtate afide, he would
fteal out from the caftle in a Hackney-chair, to pafs
the evening at Sheridan's with Swift, and the felect fet
which used to meet there. By the defire of the Lord
Lieutenant, the Doctor had one of the tragedies of
Sophocles performed by his fcholars for his entertain-
ment. Before the day of exhibition Lord Carteret ap-
pointed a morning to pafs with him in reading the play
together, in order to refreſh his memory after fo long
an abfence from his Greek ftudies. The Doctor was
aftoniſhed at the facility and accuracy with which he
tranflated this difficult Author, having fcarce any op-
portunity of giving him affiftance through the whole.
play. While he was expreffing his furprife at this, and
admiration at the wonderful knowledge which his Lord-
ſhip fhewed of the Greek language, Lord Carteret,
with great candour, told him he would let him into the
fecret how he came to be fo far matter of this particular
Author. He faid that when he was Envoy in Den-
mark, he had been for a long time confined to his
chamber, partly by illnefs, and partly by the feverity
of the weather; and having but few books with him,
he had read Sophocles over and over fo often, as to be
able almoft to repeat the whole verbatim, which im-
X 4
preffed
328
THE LIFE OF
preffed it ever after indelibly on his memory. This
candid confeffion was certainly the act of an ingenuous
mind, above the vanity of gaining a character fuperior
to its merits; and I believe there are very few who
would not have fuffered the Doctor to go away in the
full perfuafion that he was one of the moft complete
fcholars of the age in the whole of the Greek language,
and accordingly fpread this account of him, feemingly
fo well founded, to the world.
Not long after this the Lord Lieutenant beftowed on
the Doctor the firft living that fell in the gift of Go-
vernment, only as an earneft of future favours; and
from the countenance fhewn him at the Caftie, it was
generally fuppofed that he might expect in time to rife
to ſome high dignities in the Church. But all this fair
profpect foon vanished, by a concurrence of fome very
extraordinary accidents. When he went down to be
inducted into his living, he was requeſted by Archdea-
con Ruffel of Cork, to fupply his place in the pulpit on
the following Sunday. The Doctor, who was a very
abfent man, had forgot his engagement, and was fit-
ting quietly at his lodging en defhabille, when a meſſage
from the Parish Clerk, who faw no preacher arrive after
the fervice had begun, roufed him from his reverie.
He drefied himfelf with all ſpeed, and of two fermons
that he had brought with him, took the firſt that came
to his hand, without looking into it. It happened that
the first of Auguft in that year fell on that very Sun-
day; and the first of Auguft being the day on which
Queen Anne died, was, in that time of party, a day
of great celebrity, and much adverted to by the Whigs.
But this circumftance had not at all occurred to the
Doctor, who looked on it only as a common Sunday,
without confidering the day of the month. The text
of this led-fermon happened to be, "Sufficient to the
day
DOCTOR SWIFT.
329
day is the evil thereof." Such a text on fuch a day,
excited a general murmur through the whole congre-
gation, to the great furprife of the preacher, who was
the only perſon ignorant of the caufe; of which he
was not informed till after he had defcended from the
pulpit, when the affair was paft remedy. There hap-
pened to be preſent in the Church a furious Whig, and
one of the moſt violent party- men of the times. He
immediately took poſt for Dublin, where, by his re-
preſentation of this matter, as Swift has obferved in
giving an account of this tranfaction, "Such a cla-
mour was raiſed by the zeal of one man, of no large
dimenfions either of body or mind, that we in Dublin
could apprehend no less than an invafion by the Pre-
tender, who must be landed in the South." Such in-
deed was the violent clamour raifed by the Whigs in
general, that the Lord Lieutenant, in order to pacify
them, was obliged to order the Doctor's name to be
ftruck out of the Lift of Chaplains, and to forbid his
appearance at the Cattle; though he was perfectly fa-
tisfied of his innocence, as it appeared that in the whole
fermon there was not a fyllable relating to Government
or party, or to the fubject of the day; and that he had
often preached it before under the fame text.
And as
Swift obferves in one of his letters on this fubject, "It
is indeed againſt common fenfe to think that you ſhould
chooſe fuch a time, when you had received a favour
from the Lord Lieutenant, and had reafon to expect
more, to diſcover your difloyalty in the pulpit. But
what will that avail? It is fafer for a man's intereft to
blafpheme God, than to be of a party out of power,
or even to be thought fo; and fince the laft was the
cafe, how could you imagine that all mouths would not
be open when you were received, and in fome manner
preferred by Government, although in a poor way? I
tell
330
THE LIFE OF
tell you there is hardly a Whig in Ireland who would
allow a potatoe and butter-milk to a reputed Tory."
Swift's letters on this occafion bear the ſtrongeſt marks
of true friendship, by giving him the best advice how
to conduct himfelf, and letting in fome rays of hope,
that he should be able to fettle matters with the Lord
Lieutenant in London, on his fhortly intended vifit to
that city, and fo clear the way for fome future favour.
But though, as Swift expreffes it, the Doctor had
thus, by mere chance-medley, fhot his own fortune
dead with a fingle text, yet it was the means of his re-
ceiving a confiderable addition to his fortune, of more
intrinfic value than the largeft benefice he might have
reaſon to expect. As this proceeded from an act of un-
common generofity, it deferves well to be recorded.
Archdeacon Ruffel, in whofe pulpit the fermon was
preached, confidered himſelf as inftrumental, however
accidentally, to the ruin of the Doctor's expectations.
He was for fome time uneafy in his mind on this ac-
count, and at laft determined to make him a noble
compenfation. He had a great friendship for the Doc-
tor, whom he faw loaded with a numerous offspring,
upon a precarious income, while he himself was pof-
feffed of a confiderable property, and without any fa-
mily. Urged on by thofe nice fcruples in his mind
before-mentioned, he thought he could not make a
better ufe of his fortune, than to apply the fuperfluity
of it towards making the Doctor eafy in his circum-
ftances, and thus enabling him to make a provifion for
his children. With this view he took a journey to
Dublin in order to make over to him, by an irrevocable
deed of gift, the valuable manor of Drumlane in the
County of Cavan, a Bishop's leafe, which at that time.
produced a clear profit rent of two hundred and fifty
pounds
DOCTOR
331
SWIFT.
pounds per annum *. An act of fuch liberality, and fel-
dom to be paralleled in this degenerate and ſelfiſh age,
deferves well to be reſcued from oblivion; nor could the
Author of theſe Memoirs, without ingratitude, paſs it
over in filence.
But unfortunately this noble benefaction did not an-
fwer the end propofed by the bountiful donor. The
Doctor now thought his fortune was made, and fet no
bounds to his prodigality: with what he poffeffed before
in the county of Cavan, his landed property produced
him full four hundred pounds a year; and his ſchool and
living, eight hundred more. A large income indeed in
thoſe days, but not equal to the profufeneſs of his fpirit.
He was, as was before obferved, the greateft dupe in
the world, and a conftant prey to all the indigent of his
acquaintance, as well as thofe who were recommended to
him by others. Not content with receiving feveral into
his ſchool whom he taught without pay, he had always
two or three whom he lodged and boarded in his houſe
gratis; nay fome he maintained in cloaths and every
other neceffary, and afterwards entered and fupported
them in the College at his own charge, as if they had
been his fons. To his daughters he gave the genteeleſt
education, and dreft them in the moſt faſhionable ftyle. As
he was an adept in Muſic both in the ſcientific and prac-
tical part, he had frequent private concerts at his houfe
at no fmall coft, and the expences of his table were cer-
tainly not diminished by his increaſe of fortune. While
he was going on in this career, his fchool gradually de-
creafed, from the caufe already mentioned, together with
fome other co-operating circumftances; but as the dimi-
nution of his income made no change in his mode of liv-
* I have been well affured, that the leafe produces at this day no
lefs a fum than eight hundred per annum, net profit to the prefent
poffeffor,
ing,
332
THE LIFE OF
ing, it was not long before he had contracted fuch debts
as obliged him to mortgage his lands. He had ex-
changed his living in the county of Cork, for that of
Dunboyne, within a few miles of Dublin; in which he
was egregiouſly outwitted, as the latter fell very fhort of
the income of the former. In this declining ftate of his
affairs, his refidence in Dublin grew extremely irkiome
to him, and being determined to change the ſcene, he
again exchanged his living for the free-fchool of Cavan,
though to another diminution of his income. All this
was done without once confulting the Dean, who had
long been weary of offering fruitlefs advice.
When the Doctor was preparing to remove to Cavan,
a little incident happened which at once fhewed Swift's
great affection for him, and the uncommon tendernefs of
his heart. He happened to call in juft at the time that
the workmen were taking down the pictures and other fur-
niture in the parlour: that parlour where for fuch a num-
ber of years, he had paſſed to many happy hours; ftruck
with the fight he burit into tears, and rushed into a dark
clofet, where he continued a quarter of an hour before he
could compofe himfelf. When it is confidered that he
was at that time verging on feventy, an age in which the
heart generally is callous, and almoſt dead to the fine af-
fections, there cannot be a ftronger confutation of the
charge made againſt him of his want of feeling; as I be-
lieve the inftances are very rare of perfons at that time of
life, capable of being fo much moved by fuch an inci-
dent.
The Doctor had not been long fettled at Cavan, when
Swift, who at that time knew little comfort in life out of
his fociety, followed, in order to pafs the winter with
him. I was there at his arrival, and during the whole
time of his continuance there. It grieved me much to
fer fuch a change in him. His perfon was quite emacia-
ted,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
333
ted, and bore the marks of many more years than had
paffed over his head. His memory greatly impaired, and
his other faculties much on the decline. His temper
peevish, fretful, morofe, and prone to fudden fits of
paffion; and yet to me his behaviour was gentle, as it
always had been from my early childhood, treating me
with partial kindneſs and attention, as being his godfon;
often giving me inftruction, attended with frequent pre-
fents and rewards when I did well. I loved him from
my boyiſh days, and never ftood in the leaft awe before
him, as I do not remember ever to have had a croſs look,
or harsh expreffion from him. I read to him two or three
hours every day during this vifit, and often received both
pleaſure and improvement from the obfervations he made.
His intention was to have paffed the whole winter there;
but as the Doctor was called up to town upon buſineſs
during the Chriſtmas vacation, Swift found the place de-
folate without him, and followed him in a few days.
During this vifit, it appeared by many inftances that ava-
rice had then taken poffeffion of him to a great degree.
Doctor Sheridan had prevailed on the Burgeffes of Cavan
to meet the Dean, in a body, at a place four miles dif
tant from the town to compliment him on his arrival.
The Doctor told him, in return, he ought to invite them
to an entertainment; with which the Dean, after fome
time, though not without manifeft reluctance, complied.
He gave them a very fhabby dinner at the inn, and cal-
led for the bill, before the gueſts had got half enough of
wine. He difputed feveral articles, faid there were twɔ
bottles of wine more charged than were ufed, flew into a
violent pallion, and abufed his fervants grofsly for not
keeping better count. The fervants ran away, and Doc-
tor Sheridan, without fpeaking a word, went off and left
him to himſelf. This was the manner in which they al-
ways treated him, at that time, when he was in one of
thofe
334
THE LIFE OF
thofe fits, for the leaft oppofition, or even the prefence
of thoſe with whom he was angry, ferved but to increaſe.
his paffion almoſt to frenzy. But when he had time to
cool, he always expreffed deep concern at his infirmity.
Of the peevishness of his temper at that time, among
many other inſtances, he gave a remarkable one, at the
inn of Virginy, his laſt ſtage before his arrival at Cavan.
In paffing to his chamber, he faw the maid employed in
fcraping a piece of beef, and ſtopped to ask her, how
many maggots ſhe had got out of it. The wench ſmart-
ly anfwered, "Not fo many as there are in your head.”
This repartee, which, at another period of his life would
have pleafed him much, and probably produced half a
crown to the maid for her wit, now threw him into a paſ-
fion, in which he was fo weak as to complain of her to
her mistress, and infift on her being discharged for her
faucinefs.
When the Burgeffes of Cavan went out to meet him,
one of them addreffed him in a complimentary fpeech on
the occafion, which was but ill delivered, as he had a re-
markable thickness of utterance. When he had done,
Swift aſked him, pray Sir, are you the Town-Serjeant?
(a low office, and fcarcely above the rank of a common
Conftable) No, Mr. Dean, anſwered Doctor Sheridan,
that is Mr. Brooks the apothecary, our eldeſt Burgeſs.
I thought fo, faid Swift, for he ſpoke as if his mouth
was full of drugs. How muft his difpofition have been
changed, when the higheft civilities that could be fhewn
him, and which formerly were received with the greateſt
pleaſure, and returned with the utmoft politenefs, now
produced nothing but marks of difguft.
From this time all his infirmities increafed faft upon
him, particularly his avarice, to a high degree. Doctor
Sheridan, who ſtill continued to pafs great part of his
vacations at the Deanery, faw many flagrant inftances of
this,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
335
this, whereof he thought himſelf bound both by friend-
ſhip, and a folemn engagement he had entered into, to
give him information. This alludes to a converſation
that had paffed between Swift and Doctor Sheridan, as
they were riding together on the Strand, fome years be-
fore the Doctor left Dublin. The topic happened to be
that of old age, which Swift faid he found coming faft
upon him, and he fuppofed he fhould not be exempt
from its attendant infirmities. “But there is one vice its
ufual concomitant, the moft deteftable of all others,
and which therefore I would moſt endeavour to guard
against, I mean avarice: I do not know any way fo effec-
tual for this purpofe, as to engage fome true friend to
give me warning when he ſees any approaches of that fort,
and thus put me upon my guard. This office I expect
from you, and hope you will give me a folemn aſſurance
that you will most punctually fulfil it." The Doctor
very readily entered into the engagement; and now
thought himſelf bound to diſcharge it. With this view,
in one of his vacations paffed at the Deanery, he fet
down daily in a journal kept for that purpoſe, all the
inftances he could perceive of the Dean's parfimony;
which in a fortnight arofe to a confiderable amount.
Armed with thefe proofs, he one day took an opportunity
of aſking the Dean, Whether he recollected a diſcourſe
which had paffed between them on the Strand, relative
to old age and avarice, and the folemn engagement he
had made him enter into upon that occafion. Swift, as
one fuddenly alarmed, anfwered with precipitation,
Yes, I remember it very well-Why-do you per-
ceive any thing of that fort in me ?" You ſhall be judge
yourſelf, faid the Doctor-read over that paper, and fee
whether it is not high time I fhould now perform my
promife. The Dean read over the articles with a coun-
tenance in which fhame and defpondency were blended,
<<
2
When
336
THE LIFE OF
When he had done, he leaned his head upon his hand,
with his eyes caft to the ground, and remained for fome
time buried in profound thought; at laft he just lifted
up
his eyes, without changing his pofture, and cafting a
fide glance at the Doctor, with a moft fignificant look,
afked him-" Doctor-did you never read Gil Blas ?" al-
luding to the famous ftory of a fimilar conduct of his to-
wards the Archbishop, when he was his Secretary, which
loft him his poſt. After fuch a ſcene, the reader will
eafily conclude, that the difeafe was paft remedy; and
that the Doctor, like poor Gil Blas, would probably not
continue long in favour. Thus was Lord Bolingbroke's
obſervation upon a paffage in one of Swift's Letters fully
verified; where he fays, he had made a maxim which
ought to be written in letters of diamond, "That a wife
man ſhould have money in his head, but not in his
heart." To which his Lordſhip replies, "That a wife
man fhould take care how he lets money get too much
into his head, for it would moſt affuredly defcend to the
heart, the feat of the paffions."
And yet this vice, which daily increaſed, and made
him act grudgingly and fordidly in all other articles of ex-
pence, had no effect upon his charities, which were con-
tinued as ufual. I had a remarkable inftance given me
of this by Mrs. Sican, two years after this period, when
his avarice was at the height. She had called on him
one morning, and upon the ufual queftion being asked
of, "What news?" faid, a very melancholy affair had
happened the night before to an acquaintance of hers,
one Mr. Ellis, a cabinet maker, whofe houfe and goods.
were deſtroyed by fire; and as he was a young man juft
beginning the world, newly married, fhe was afraid it
would prove his ruin, unlefs he was relieved by charita-
ble contributions. Swift afked what character he bore?
She faid an exceeding good one, for fobriety, induſtry,
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
337
and integrity. The Dean then went to his defk, and
brought out five broad Portugal pieces, which paffed at
that time in Dublin for four pounds each, and gave them
to her as his fubfcription.
Dr. Sheridan, finding himſelf difappointed in all his
expectations on his removal, continued at Cavan but lit
tle more than two years; when he fold his fchool and re-
turned to Dublin. While a houfe was preparing for
him, he took up his abode as ufual at the Deanery,
where he was feized with a fit of illneſs, which confined
him for fome weeks to his chamber. The Dean was not
in a condition at that time to afford him any confolation,
ror in a diſpoſition of mind to be troubled with a fick
gueft. A longer fit than ufual of his old complaint, had
deprived him of all fociety,
horror of his own thoughts.
the world, and all that was
of relief but from death, for which he moft ardently
wiſhed, even when his ftate was not fo bad. For fome
years before, he never took leave of a friend in an even-
ing, but he conftantly added, "Well, God bless you,
and I hope I fhall never fee you again." In this hope-
leſs ſtate, deprived of all the comforts of life, no wonder
if he was dead alfo to the feelings of friendship. When
the Doctor had fufficiently recovered to be able to go a-
and left him a prey to the
He had long been
He had long been weary of
in it. He had no proſpect
* That he was weary of life, appears in many paffages of his letters,
and the following anecdote will fhew how much he wished for death.
In the year 1739, three years after his memory had first declined,
he had been ſtanding with a Clergyman under a very large heavy pier
glafs, which, juft as they had moved to another part of the room,
fell down fuddenly, and broke to pieces. The Clergyman, ftruck
with a ſenſe of the danger they had escaped, turned to Swift, and
cried out, What a mercy it is that we moved the moment we did, for
if we had not, we should certainly have been both killed. Swift re-
plied, "Had you been out of the cafe, I fhould have been happy to
have remained there."
Z
broad,
338
THE LIFE OF
broad, he was apologifing to the Dean for the trouble he
had given him; faying, "I fear, Mr. Dean, I have
been an expenfive lodger to you this bout." Upon
which Mrs. W, a relation of the Dean's, who then
chiefly managed his affairs, and who happened to be pre-
fent, briſkly faid, it is in your power, Doctor, eaſily to
remedy this, by removing to another lodging. Swift
was filent. The poor Doctor was quite thunder-ſtruck.
As this Lady had always profeffed great friendſhip for
him, and lay under confiderable obligations to him, he
quickly faw that this muſt have been done by Swift's di-
rection; in which he was confirmed by his filence on the
occafion. He immediately left the houſe, in all that an-
guifh of mind, which a heart poffeffed of the warmest
friendſhip muſt feel, upon the abrupt breach of one of
fo long a ſtanding, and fo fincere on his part; nor did he
ever enter it again *. He lived but a fhort time after
this. His friend and phyfician, Dr. Helfham, foretold
the manner, and almoft the very time of his death. He
faid his diſorder was a polypus in the heart, which was
fo far advanced, that it would probably put an end to his
exiſtence in a ſhort time, and fo fuddenly, as to give hin
no warning of it; and therefore recommended it to him
to fettle his affairs. The Doctor upon this, retired to a
houſe of one of his ſcholars, Mr. O'Callaghan, at Rath-
farnham, three miles from Dublin. In a few days he
fent for his friend and namefake, Counſellor Sheridan, to
The flory told by a lying biographer, in a work published under
the name of Theophilus Cibber, and fince transferred into a note on
the Dean's Works is utterly falfe. It is there related, that the Doc-
tor being in fear of his creditors, had retired for refuge to the Deanery,
and one evening requesting a bottle of wine, the Dean grudgingly
anfwered, though he had given him a lodging, he had not promifed
to furnish him with wine, for the Doctor, at that time, did not owe
a fhilling in the world; having fold a great part of his landed pro-
perty to pay his debts.
draw
DOCTOR SWIFT.
339
draw his will; and when that was done, he ſeemed cheer-
ful and in good fpirits. The Counfellor, and a brother
of Mr. O'Callaghan's, who had lent him his houſe, up-
on being called away to another part of the kingdom,
dined with him that day. Soon after dinner, the conver-
fation happened to turn on the weather, and one of them
obferved, that the wind was eafterly. The Doctor upon
this, faid, "let it blow Eaft, Weft, North, or South,
the immortal foul will take its flight to the deftined
point." These were the laft words he ever fpoke, for he
immediately funk back in his chair, and expired without
a groan, or the fmalleft ftruggle. His friends thought
he had fallen afleep, and in that belief retired to the gar-
den, that they might not difturb his repofe; but on
their return, after an hours walk, to their great aftonifh-
ment, they found he was dead. Upon opening the bo-
dy, Doctor Heltham's fagacious prognoftic proved to be
true, as the polypus in the heart was difcovered to be
the immediate caufe of his death. I know not whether
it is worth mentioning, that the furgeon faid, he never
faw fo large a heart in any human body.
It is with reluctance I have dwelt fo long on this
part
of Swift's life; but as many reprefentations of his con-
duct at that juncture, founded on truth too, had got a-
broad, much to the difadvantage of his character, I
thought it neceffary to draw at full length a picture of his
ftate of mind at that time, to fhew how unreaſonable it
is to impute faults to the found and perfect man, which
were the natural confequence of the decay of his facul-
ties, the infirmities of age, and cruel difeafe; by which
fo total a change was made in him, that ſcarce any thing
of his former felf remained. Among the charges againſt
him, none bore more hard than his latter behaviour to
Dr. Sheridan, for which I have already accounted. In
their whole intercourſe, previous to that period, I have
Z 2
fhewn
340
THE LIFE OF
fhewn how fincere a friend he had always proved himself
to be; and afterwards, when his underſtanding was gone,
and his memory failed, when fome former feelings of the
heart only remained, I had a ftrong inftance given me by
his fervant William, how deep an impreffion the Doctor
had made there; who told me that when he was in that
ftate, the Dean, every day, for a long time, conftantly
afked him the fame queftion-" William, did you know
Doctor Sheridan ?" Yes, Sir, very well-and then, with
a heavy figh, Oh I loft my right hand when I loft him.
2
SECTION VII.
HAVING thus finished the Life of Swift, and related
in a regular feries all that I thought moft worthy to be
recorded, I have purpofely referved to a feparate part of
the Work, fuch Anecdotes, Memoirs, and detached
Pieces, as could not have been interwoven into the hif-
tory, without much interruption. This was the method
purſued by that great Biographer Plutarch, and that is
the part of his Work, which, in general, is read with
moft pleaſure. There is a wonderful curiofity in man-
kind to pry into the fecret actions of men, who have
made a diftinguifhed figure in public, as it is from pri-
vate Anecdotes alone that a true eftimate can be formed
of their real characters, fince the other may be affumed
only to anſwer the purpoſes of ambition. Even circum-
ftances in themfelves trifling, often lead to this, and on
that account are regiſtered with care, and read with avi-
dity. I fhall, therefore, without farther preface, relate
fuch Anecdotes of Swift, as have come to my knowledge,
and have not hitherto been made known to the world,
as they rife in my memory; but fhall fet down none
which I have not good reafon to believe authentic; as I
received moft of them from my father; others from his
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
341
and the Dean's intimate friends; and fome came within
my own knowledge.
We have already feen that foon after the Dean's ac-
quaintance with Doctor Sheridan commenced, being
both equally fond of the bagatelle, they were laying
themſelves out for various contrivances to create inno-
cent ſport. There happened to arrive in town at this
time, one Gibbons, who had been a contemporary of
the Doctor's in the College, but had been abfent in the
country for fome years. On his arrival he renewed his
acquaintance with Doctor Sheridan. He had a great
fimplicity of character, which made it eafy to impofe
on him, and certain oddities and peculiarities, which
rendered him a proper ſubject for a practical joke. A
plan was immediately concerted between them, that
Swift ſhould perfonate the character of a diſtreffed Cler-
gyman, under the name of Jodrel, applying to Doctor
Sheridan to be made one of his Ufhers. A time was
appointed for their meeting at the Doctor's an hour be-
fore dinner, and ſeveral of their fet were invited to be
prefent at the sport. When they were affembled, Swift
as Jodrel, entered the room in an old rufty gown, and
lank fhabby perriwig, which were provided at the Doc-
tor's for the purpoſe. As he was an excellent mimick,
he perfonated the character of an aukward Country
Parfon to the life. Gibbons was requested by the Doc-
tor to examine him, in order to fee whether he was fit
for the poft; and Jodrel gave fuch anfwers to the que-
ftions afked by Gibbons, as afforded high entertain-
ment to all prefent. One of his queftions was, "What
is Chrift's Church?" To which Jodrel replied, "A
great pile of building near the four Courts."-For fo
that church is called. On which Gibbons exclaimed,
"Was there ever fuch a blockhead? Who the devil put
you in orders?" The fport occafioned by this was too
Z3
rich
342
THE LIFE OF
rich to be fuddenly given up. Gibbons, Jodrel, and
the other gueſts met feveral times at dinner, where
Jodrel's behaviour was always aukward and abfurd.
One time he held out his plate with both his hands,
ftretching it in the moſt ridiculous poſture quite acroſs
the table, which provoked Gibbons to call him fool!
dunce! and even to give him a flap on the wrift with
the flat of his knife; at the fame time fhewing him how
he ought to hold his plate, or that he ſhould fend it by
one of the fervants. When this fort of amuſement
was adjudged to have continued long enough, Doctor
Sheridan delivered a meffage to Gibbons from the
Dean, inviting him to dine with him. Gibbons, who
had expreffed a great ambition to be known to Swift,
received the meffage with tranfport, but faid, fure he
won't afk that fool Jodrel. Sheridan told him he might
fet his heart at reft, for that the Dean never had, nor
never would ask him as long as he lived. When the
appointed day came, Gibbons went with the Doctor to
the Deanery, who placed him at a window from which
he could fee the Dean returning from prayers. He was
dreffed that day in as high a ftyle as the clerical func-
tion will allow; in a paduafoy gown, fquare velvet cap,
c. Gibbons looked at him with great attention, and
turning to Sheridan with much perturbation of counte-
nance, cried out, why Doctor, that is Jodrel. Peace,
fool, faid the Doctor, I was very near lofing the Dean's
acquaintance, by happening to fay that Jodrel had fome
refemblance to him. When the Dean entered the
chamber where they were, Gibbons changed colour,
and in great confufion faid to Sheridan, by my ſoul it
is Jodrel-What ſhall I do? Sheridan then fimiled; fo
did the Dean, and opened the matter to Gibbons in fuch
a way as to fet him at eaſe, and make him paſs the re-
mainder of the day very pleasantly. But Swift had not
yet
DOCTOR SWIFT.
343
yet done with him. He had perceived that though
Gibbons had no pretenfions to ſcholarſhip, he had a
good deal of vanity on that fcore, and was refolved to
mortify him. He had before-hand prepared Mrs. John-
fon in a paffage of Lucretius, wherein are thefe lines:
66
Medioque in fonte leporum,
Surgit amari aliquid.
Among their evening amuſements, Mrs. Johnſon call-
ed for Lucretius, as an Author fhe was well acquainted
with, and requeſted of Gibbons to explain that paffage
to her. Why, fays he, there can be nothing more
eafy, and began immediately to conftrue it in the ſchool-
boys faſhion, Que and medio in fonte, in the middle of
a fountain, leporum, of hares.-No, Mr. Gibbons, in-
terrupted Mrs. Johnfon, if that word fignifies hares, it
would be a falſe quantity in the verſe, the o being ne-
ceffarily long in the laft foot of the line, whereas the o
in leporum, when it fignifies hares, is fhort. Poor
Gibbons was quite confounded, acknowledged his er-
ror, and did not chooſe to give any farther proofs of
his erudition, before a Lady fo profoundly ſkilled in
Latin.
As Swift was fond of fcenes in low life, he miffed no
opportunity of being prefent at them, when they fell
in his way. Once when he was in the country, he re-
ceived intelligence that there was to be a beggar's wed-
ding in the neighbourhood. He was refolved not to
mifs the opportunity of feeing fo curious a ceremony;
and that he might enjoy the whole completely, propo-
fed to Dr. Sheridan that he ſhould go thither diſguiſed
as a blind fidler, with a bandage over his eyes, and he
would attend him as his man to lead him.
coutred they reached the fcene of action,
Z 4
Thus ac-
where the
blind
344
THE LIFE OF
blind fidler was received with joyful fhouts. They
had plenty of meet and drink, and plied the fidler and
his man with more than was agreeable to them. Never
was a more joyous wedding feen. They fung, they
danced, told their ftories, cracked jokes, &c. in a vein
of humour more entertaining to the two gueſts, than
they probably could have found in any other meeting
on a like occafion. When they were about to depart,
they pulled out their leather pouches, and rewarded the
fidler very handfomely. The next day the Dean and
the Doctor walked out in their ufual drefs, and found
their companions of the preceding evening, fcattered
about in different parts of the road, and the neighbour-
ing village, all begging their charity in doleful ſtrains,
and telling difinal ſtories of their diftrefs. Among
thefe, they found fome upon crutches, who had dan-
ced very nimbly at the wedding; others ftone blind,
who were perfectly clear fighted at the feaft. The
Doctor diſtributed among them the money which he
had received as his pay; but the Dean, who mortally
hated thoſe ſturdy vagrants, rated them foundly; told
them in what manner he had been prefent at the wed-
ding, and was let into their roguery, and affured them,
if they did not immediately apply to honeft labour, he
would have them taken up, and fent to jail. Where-
upon the lame once more recovered their legs, and the
blind their eyes, ſo as to make a very precipitate re-
treat.
When the Dean was at Quilca, a country feat of
Dr. Sheridan's, on a ſmall eftate which he poffeffed in
the county of Cavan, during the Doctor's abſence,
who could only pafs his fchool vacations there, he acted
as Bailiff, in fuperintending the Works then carrying
on. He had a mind to furpriſe the Doctor, on his next
vifit, with fome improvements made at his own expence.
Accordingly
DOCTOR SWIFT.
345
Accordingly he had a canal cut of fome extent, and at
the end of it, by tranſplanting fome young trees, formed
an arbour, which he called Stella's bower, and fur-
rounded fome acres of land about it with a dry ſtone
wall (for the country afforded no lime) the materials
of which were taken from the furface of the ground,
which was very ftony. The Dean had given ftrict
charge to all about him to keep this fecret in order to
furpriſe the Doctor on his arrival; but he had in the
mean time received intelligence of all that was going
forward. On his coming to Quilca, the Dean took an
early opportunity of walking with him carelessly to-
wards this new fcene. The Doctor feemed not to take
the leaft notice of any alteration, and with a moſt in-
flexible countenance continued to talk of indifferent
matters. Confound your ftupidity, faid Swift, in a
rage, why you blockhead don't you ſee the great im-
provements I have been making here? Improvements,
Mr. Dean; why I fee a long bog-hole out of which I
fuppofe you have cut the turf; you have removed fome
of the young trees I think to a worſe fituation; as to
taking the ſtones from the ſurface of the ground, I al-
low that is a uſeful work, as the grafs will grow the
better for it; and placing them about the field in that
form, will make it more eaſy to carry them off. Plague
on your Iriſh taſte, fays Swift; this is juſt what I ought
to have expected from you; but neither you nor your
forefathers ever made fuch an improvement; nor will
you be able while you live to do any thing like it
The Doctor was refolved to retaliate on the Dean the
first opportunity. It happened when he was down
there in one of his vacations, that the Dean was abſent
for a few days on a vifit elfewhere. He took this op-
portunity of employing a great number of hands to
make an iſland in the middle of the lake, where the
water
346
THE LIFE OF
water was twenty feet deep; an arduous work in ap-
pearance, but not hard to be executed in a place
abounding with large ftones upon the furface of the
ground, and where long heath grew every where in
great plenty; for by placing quantities of thofe ftones
in large bundles of heath, the fpace was foon filled.
up, and a large iſland formed. To cover this a fuffi-
cient quantity of earth and green fods were brought,
and feveral well grown ofiers, and other aquatics, were
removed to it. The Doctor's fecret was better kept
than Swift's; who, on his return, walked towards the
lake, and feeing the New Inland, cried out in aftonifh-
ment, "Heigh! how the water of the lake is funk
in this fhort time to difcover that iſland of which there
was no trace before! Greatly funk indeed, obſerved
the Doctor with a fneer, if it covered the tops of thoſe
oziers. Swift then ſaw he had been fairly taken in, and
acknowledged the Doctor had got the better of him,
both in his ftratagem, and the beauty of his improve-
ment.
Many were their contrivances to play tricks on each
other as occafions offered, and it feldom happened but
that where one fucceeded, a ſpeedy retaliation enſued.
The Dean, the Doctor, another Gentleman, and the
Bishop of Meath, once fet out together from Dublin,
to paſs ſome days at a friend's houfe in the country.
The Bishop had faid that he fhould not be able to vifit
his dioceſe for fome time, as his houfe was rebuilding;
upon which Swift made him a tender of his houſe at
Laracor, till his own fhould be ready for him. The
difcourfe naturally fell upon country feats; and Sheri-
dan enlarged a good deal upon the beauties of Quilca;
which though at that time in a very rude ſtate, to uſe
a modern phraſe, had certainly great capabilities.
Swift exclaimed, my Lord, do you hear that vapouring
fcab?
DOCTOR SWIFT.
347
fcab? I will fhew you an exact picture of that place
which he has painted in fuch fine colours. Upon which
he put his hand in his pocket, and, for the firſt time,
produced that ludicrous copy of verſes on Quilca, fince
printed in his Works. This occafioned a good deal of
laughter at the Doctor's expence, who bore it patiently
for fome time, but meditated fpeedy revenge. He then
pretended to be weary of the coach, and faid he would
mount his horfe, which was led, and go before to pre-
pare breakfaſt for them at the inn. He made what
ſpeed he could, and upon his arrival there, inſtantly
called for pen, ink, and paper, and wrote the Poem,
defcribing the Dean's goods at Laracor. Upon feeing
a beggar at the door, the thought ftruck him to have
this prefented to the Bishop by way of petition. He
accordingly folded it up in that form, and gave the
beggar his leffon when and how he was to prefent it.
When breakfaſt was over, and they had all got into
the coach, the beggar with much importunity, ftretched
his hand out with the petition to the Bishop. Swift,
always at enmity with theſe vagrants, begged of his
Lordſhip not to receive it, and was calling out to the
coachman to drive on, when the Biſhop, who had been
let into the fecret by Sheridan, ftopped him, and open-
ing the petition, kept it cloſe to his eyes, fo that no
one elſe might fee its contents, and for fome time ſeemed
to read it with attention. He then gave the poor man
a fhilling, and faid he would examine into the truth of
what was there fet down, when he returned. Swift
for a long time after indulged himſelf on his ufual topic,
inveighing ſtrongly againft giving encouragement to fuch
îturdy vagabonds, who were the pefts of fociety, &c.
&c. The Bishop at laft interrupting him faid, "In-
deed, Mr. Dean, if what is here fet forth be true, the
man is a real object of compaffion, as you fhall fee.”
3
Upon
348
THE LIFE OF
Upon which he read aloud the following contents of
the paper.
A true and faithful Inventory of the Goods belonging
to Doctor Swift, Vicar of Laracor; upon his offer-
ing to lend his houfe to the Biſhop of Meath, untill
his own was built.
An oaken, broken, elbow-chair;
A caudle cup, without an ear;
A batter'd, fhatter'd, afh bedſtead;
A box of deal without a lid;
A pair of tongs, but out of joint;
A back-fword poker, without point;
A pot that's crack'd acrofs, around;
With an old knotted garter bound;
An iron lock without a key;
A wig with hanging, quite grown grey;
A curtain worn to half a ſtripe;
A pair of bellows, without pipe ;
A dish which might good meat afford once;
An Ovid, and an old Concordance;
A bottle bottom, wooden platter ;
One is for meal, and one for water;
There likewife is a copper fkillet;
Which runs as faft out, as you fill it;
A candleſtick, fnuff-diſh, and ſave-all,
And thus his houſehold goods you have all.
Thefe to your Lordſhip, as a friend,
Till you have built, I freely lend;
They'll ferve your Lordſhip for a ſhift;
Why not, as well as Doctor Swift?
Thus were the tables turned upon the Dean, and a
good deal of mirth indulged at his expence.
When
DOCTOR SWIFT.
349
When he was at Quilca he went one Sunday to a
church at the distance of more than two hours ride,
The Parfon of the parish invited him to dinner, but
Swift excufed himfelf by faying that it was too far to
ride home afterwards; no, I fhall dine with my neigh-
bour Reilly at Virginy, which is half way home.
Reilly, who was what is called there a Gentleman
Farmer, was proud of the honour, and immediately
difpatched a meffenger to his wife to prepare for the re-
ception of fo extraordinary a gueſt. She dreffed her-
felf out in her beft apparel; the fon put on his new
fuit, and his filver laced hat adorned his head. When
the Lady was introduced to the Dean, he faluted her
with the fame refpect as if fhe had been a Duchefs,
making feveral conges down to the ground, and then
handed her with great formality to her feat. After fome
high flown compliments, he addreffed his hoſt-" Mr.
Reilly, I fuppofe you have a confiderable eftate here;
let us go and look over your demefne." Eftate, ſays
Reilly Devil a foot of land belongs to me or any of
my generation. I have a pretty good leafe here indeed
from Lord Fingal, but he threatens that he will not re-
new it, and I have but a few years of it to come.
"Well-but when am I to fee Mrs. Reilly?" "Why
don't you fee her there before you?" "That Mrs.
Reilly! impoffible! I have heard fhe is a prudent wo-
man, and as fuch would never dreſs herſelf out in filks,
and other ornaments, fit only for Ladies of faſhion.
No-Mrs. Reilly the farmer's wife, would never wear
any thing better than plain ftuff, with other things
fuitable to it." Mrs. Reilly happened to be a woman
of good fenfe, and taking the hint, immediately with-
drew, changed her drefs as fpeedily as poſſible, and in
a ſhort time returned to the parlour in her common ap-
parel. Swift faluted her in the most friendly manner,
taking
350
THE LIFE OF
taking her by the hand and faying, "I am heartily glad
to ſee you Mrs. Reilly. This huſband of your's would
fain have palmed a fine Lady upon me, all dreffed out
in filks, and in the pink of the mode, for his wife,
but I was not to be taken in fo." He then laid hold of
young maſter's fine laced hat; with his pen-knife rip-
ped off the lace, and folding it up in feveral papers,
thruſt it into the fire. When it was fufficiently burnt,
he wrapped it up in freſh paper, and put it in his poc-
ket. It may be fuppofed that the family was put into
no fmall confufion at this ftrange proceeding; but they
did not dare to fhew that they took any umbrage at it,
as the prefence of Swift ftruck every one with uncom-
mon awe, who were not well acquainted with him.
However as he foon refumed his good humour, en-
tertaining them with many pleafantries to their taſte
(for no man knew better how to adapt his converfation
to all claffes of people) they foon recovered their fpi-
rits, and the day was paffed very cheerfully. When he
was taking his leave, he faid, I do not intend to rob
you Mrs. Reilly; I fhall take nothing belonging to you
away with me; there's your fon's hat-lace, I have only
changed the form of it to a much better one. So God
bless you, and thanks for your good entertainment.
When he was gone, Mrs. Reilly, upon opening the
paper, found there were four guineas inclofed in it, to-
gether with the burnt lace. While he ftayed in the
country, he kept an eye upon them, and found his lef
fons had not been thrown away, as they were cured of
their vanities, and lived in a manner more confonant
to their fituation in life. In confequence of which, one
of the first things he did on his return to Dublin, was
to pay a visit to Lord Fingal, and engage him to renew
Reilly's leafe; without which the poor man would, in
a few years, have had nothing for his own or his fa-
mily's fupport.
During
DOCTOR SWIFT.
351
During his refidence at Quilca he wrote a great part
of his Gulliver's Travels, and prepared the whole for
the prefs. While he was upon the ſubject of the Brob-
dingnaggs, he uſed frequently to invite a Mr. Doughty,
who lived in that neighbourhood to dine with him.
He was of a gigantic ftature; and fuppofed to be the
ſtrongeſt man in Ireland, as well as the moſt active.
Swift uſed to take great delight in feeing him perform
feveral of his feats, fome of which were of fo extraordi-
nary a nature, that I ſhould be afraid to relate them,
left it ſhould impeach my credibility. Among thefe,
Swift aſked him whether he could carry on his back
a mank's horfe which happened to be in the court-yard
at that time. Doughty, after having tied his legs, im-
mediately took him up and threw him on his fhoulders,
with the fame eaſe that another man would lift a ſheep,
and walked about with him for a long time without
fhrinking at all under his burthen. It happened one
day that a Gentleman of that neighbourhood, well
known in the country by the name of Killbuck Tuite,
dined with the Dean at Quilca when Doughty was there.
He was a blunt free-fpoken man; no refpecter of per-
fons, and ſtood in awe of no one, let his rank or cha-
racter be what it would. After dinner, Swift afked him
whether he could direct him the road to Market-hill.
Tuite faid he did not know it. That is the way, faid
Swift, with all you Iriſh blockheads; you never know
the way to any place beyond the next dunghill. Why,
anfwered Tuite, I never was at Market-hill; have not
you been there Mr. Dean? He acknowledged he had.
Then what a damned English blockhead are you, re-
plied Killbuck, to find fault with me for not directing
you the way to a place where I never had been, when
you don't know it yourſelf, who have been there.
Swift, with a countenance of great counterfeited terror,
immediately
352
THE LIFE OF
immediately rofe and changed feats with Doughty, who
happened to be next to him, placing the giant between
him and Tuite to protect him againſt that wild man,
and ſkulking behind him like a child, with well acted
fear, to the no finall entertainment of the company;
who, however, were not forry that the Dean had met
with his match. And the fame of Killbuck for this
bold retort on the Dean, of whom all the world ſtood
in awe, was fpread through the country.
Swift had got the character of a morofe, ill-natured
man, chiefly from a practice of his to which he con-
ſtantly adhered. Whenever he fell into the company
of any perfon for the first time, it was his cuftom to try
their tempers and difpofition, by fome abrupt queſtion
that bore the appearance of rudeness. If this were well
taken, and anſwered with good humour, he afterwards
made amends by his civilities. But if he faw any markş
of refentment from alarmed pride, vanity, or conceit,
he dropped all farther intercourfe with the party. This
will be illuftrated by an anecdote of that fort related.
by Mrs. Pilkington. After fupper, the Dean having
decanted a bottle of wine, poured what remained into
a glaſs, and ſeeing it was muddy, prefented it to Mr.
Pilkington to drink it; "for," faid he, "I always keep
fome poor parfon to drink the foul wine for me. Mr.
Pilkington, entering into his humour, thanked him,
and told him, he did not know the difference, but was
glad to get a glafs at any rate." "Why then," faid
the Dean, "you fhan't, for I'll drink it myſelf. Why
p-x take you, you are wifer than a paltry Curate,
whom I aſked to dine with me a few days ago; for,
upon my making the fame fpeech to him, he faid, he
did not underſtand fuch ufage, and fo walked off with-
out his dinner. By the fame token, I told the Gentle-
man who recommended him to me, that the fellow was
a blockhead, and I had done with him,"
Captain
DOCTOR SWIFT.
353
Captain Hamilton, of Caftle Hamilton, in the
County of Cavan, gave me the following account of
his first acquaintance with Swift. The Captain was
poffeffed of one of the largeft eftates and beft houfes in
the County, where he constantly refided and lived in a
moft hofpitable way. He had a good natural under-
ſtanding, but utterly unimproved through a neglect in
his education. He was cheerful, good natured, and
generous in the highest degree. A long friendfhip had
fubfifted between Sir Arthur Achefon and him, and
they ufually paffed two months in the year at each others
houfe alternately. It happened that Captain Hamilton
paid one of theſe vifits when Swift was there. Sir Ar-
thur, upon hearing of his friend's arrival, ran out to
receive him at the door, followed by Swift. The Cap-
tain, who did not fee the Dean, as it was in the dufk of
the evening, in his blunt way, upon entering the houſe,
exclaimed, that he was very forry he was fo unfortu-
nate to chooſe that time for his vifit-Why fo?-Be-
cauſe I hear Dean Swift is with you. He is a great
ſcholar, a wit; a plain Country 'Squire will have but a
bad time of it in his company, and I don't like to be
laughed at. Swift then stepped up to the Captain, from
behind Sir Arthur, where he had ſtood, and faid to him,
"Pray, Captain Hamilton, do you know how to fay
yes or no properly?" Yes, I think I have underſtand-
ing enough for that.
"Then give me your hand-de-
pend upon it you and I will agree very well.” The
Captain told me he never paffed two months fo plea-
fantly in his life, nor had ever met with fo agreeable a
companion as Swift proved to be during the whole time.
Infomuch, that at parting he preffed him moft cor-
dially to paſs the next fummer with him at Caſtle-Ha-
milton.
There lived at that time in Ireland a Gentleman of
the name of Mathew, whofe hiftory is well worth re-
cording,
A a
354
THE LIFE OF
cording, although in a great part it may appear digref-
five. He was poffeffed of a large eftate in the fineſt
county of that kingdom, Tipperary: which produced
a clear rent of eight thoufand a year. As he delighted
in a country life, he refolved to build a large commo-
dious houfe for the reception of guefts, furrounded by
fifteen hundred acres of his choiceft land, all laid out
upon a regular plan of improvement, according to the
new adopted mode of English gardening (which had
fupplanted the bad Dutch tafte brought in by King
William) and of which he was the first who fet the ex-
ample in Ireland; nor was there any improvement of
that fort then in England, which was comparable to his,
either in point of beauty or extent. As this deſign was
formed early in life, in order to accomplish his point,
without incurring any debt on his eftate, he retired to
the Continent for feven years, and lived upon fix hun-
dred pounds a year, while the remaining income of his
eftate was employed in carrying on the great works he
had planned there. When all was completed, he re-
turned to his native country; and after fome time paffed
in the metropolis, to revive the old, and cultivate new
acquaintance, he retired to his feat at Thomas-town to
paſs the remainder of his days there. As he was one
of the fineft Gentlemen of the age, and poffeffed of fo
large a property, he found no difficulty during his re-
fidence in Dublin, to get accefs to all, whofe character
for talents, or probity, made him defirous to cultivate
their acquaintance. Out of thefe, he felected fuch as
were moft conformable to his tafte, inviting them to
pafs fuch leifure time as they might have upon their
hands, at Thomas-town. As there was fomething un-
commonly fingular in his mode of living, fuch as I
believe was never carried into practice by any mortal
before, in an equal degree, I fancy the reader will not
be
DOCTOR
355
SWIFT.
be diſpleaſed with an account of the particulars of it,
though it may appear foreign to the ſubject in hand.
His houſe had been chiefly contrived to anſwer the
noble purpoſe of that conftant hofpitality, which he in-
tended to maintain there. It contained forty commo-
dious apartments for guefts, with fuitable accommoda-
tions to their fervants. Each apartinent was com-
pletely furniſhed with every convenience that could be
wanted, even to the minuteft article. When a gueſt
arrived, he fhewed him his apartment, faying, this is
your Caſtle, here you are to command as abfolutely as
in your own houfe; you may breakfaft, dine and fup
here whenever you pleaſe, and invite fuch of the guests
to accompany you as may be moſt agreeable to you.
He then fhewed him the common parlour, where he
faid a daily ordinary was kept at which he might
dine when it was more agreeable to him to mix in fo-
ciety; but from this moment you are never to know me
as maſter of the houſe, and only to confider me as one
of the gueſts. In order to put an end to all ceremony
at meal-time, he took his place at random at the table,
and thus all ideas of precedence being laid afide, the
guests feated themſelves promifcuously, without any re-
gard to difference of rank or quality. There was a
large room fitted up exactly like a Coffee-houſe, where
a bar-maid and waiters attended to furnifh refreſhments
at all times of the day. Here, fuch as chofe it, break-
fafted at their own hour. It was furnished with Chefs-
boards, Back-gammon Tables, Newfpapers, Pam-
phlets, &c. in all the forms of a City Coffee-houſe.
But the moſt extraordinary circumftance in his whole
domeftic arrangement, was that of a detached room in
one of the extremities of the houfe, called the Tavern.
As he was himſelf a very temperate man, and many of
his gueſts were of the fame difpofition, the quantity of
A a 2
wine
356
THE LIFE OF
wine for the uſe of the common room was but mode-
rate; but as drinking was much in fashion in thofe
days, in order to gratify fuch of his gueſts as had in-
dulged themfelves in that custom, he had recourfe to
the above-mentioned contrivance; and it was the cuf
tom of all who loved a cheerful glaſs, to adjourn to
the tavern foon after dinner, and leave the more fober
folks to themfelves. Here a waiter in a blue apron at-
tended (as was the faſhion then) and all things in the
room were contrived fo as to humour the illufion.
Here, every one called for what liquor they liked, with
as little reftraint as if they were really in a public-
houſe, and to pay their fhare of the reckoning. Here
too, the midnight orgies of Bacchus were often cele-
brated, with the fame noify mirth as is cuſtomary in his
City Temples, without in the leaft difturbing the re-
pofe of the more fober part of the family. Games of
all forts were allowed, but under fuch reftrictions as to
prevent gambling; and fo as to anfwer their true end,
that of amuſement, without injury to the purſe of the
players. There were two Billiard-tables, and a large
bowling-green; ample provifion was made for all fuch
as delighted in country fports; fishing tackle of all
forts; variety of guns with proper ammunition; a pack
of buck-hounds, another of fox-hounds, and another
of harriers. He conftantly kept twenty choice hunters
in his ftables for the ufe of thoſe who were not properly
mounted for the chace. It may be thought that his in-
come was not fufficient to fupport fo expenfive an efta-
bliſhment; but when it is confidered that eight thou
fand a year at that time was fully equal to double that
fum at prefent; that his large demefne, in fome of the
richeſt foil of Ireland, furniſhed the houfe with every
neceſſary except groceries and wine; it may be fuppo-
fed to be eaſily practicable if under the regulation of
a ſtrict
DOCTOR SWIFT.
357
ter.
a ftrict œconomy; of which no man was a greater maf-
I am told his plan was fo well formed, and he had
fuch checks upon all his domeftics, that it was impof-
fible there could be any waſte, or that any article from
the larder, or a fingle bottle of wine from the cellar
could have been purloined, without immediate detec-
tion. This was done partly by the choice of faithful
Stewards, and Clerks of approved integrity; but
chiefly by his own fuperintendance of the whole, as not
a day paffed without having all the accounts of the
preceding one laid before him. This he was enabled
to do by his early rifing; and the buſineſs being finiſh-
ed before others were out of their beds, he always ap-
peared the most difengaged man in the houfe, and
feemed to have as little concern in the conduct of it as
any
of the gueſts. And indeed to a ſtranger he might
eafily pafs for fuch, as he made it a point that no one
fhould confider him in the light of mafter of the houſe,
nor pay him the leaft civilities on that fcore; which he
carried fo far, that he fometimes went abroad without
giving any notice, and ſtaid away feveral days, while
things went on as ufual at home; and on his return,
he would not allow any gratulations to be made him,
nor any other notice to be taken of him, than if he had
not been abfent during that time. The arrangements
of every fort were fo prudently made, that no multi-
plicity of guests or their domeftics, ever occafioned
any diforder, and all things were conducted with the
fame eafe and regularity, as in a private family. There
was one point which feemed of great difficulty, that of
eſtabliſhing certain fignals, by which each fervant might
know when he was fummoned to his maſter's apart-
ment. For this purpoſe there was a great hall appro
priated to their ufe, where they always affembled when
they were not upon duty. Along the wall bells were
ranged
A a 3
!
358
THE LIFE OF
ranged in order, one to each apartment, with the num-
ber of the chamber marked over it; fo that when any
one of them was rung, they had only to turn their
eyes to the bell, and fee what fervant was called. He
was the first who put an end to that inhofpitable cuf-
tom of giving vales to fervants, by making a fuitable
addition to their wages; at the fame time affuring them,
that if they ever took any afterwards, they fhould be
difcharged with difgrace; and to prevent temptation,
the gueſts were informed that Mr. Mathew would con-
fider it as the higheft affront, if any offer of that fort
were made.
As Swift had heard much of this place
from Dr. Sheridan, who had been often a welcome gueſt
there, both on account of his companionable qualities,
and as being preceptor to the nephew of Mr. Mathew,
he was defirous of feeing with his own eyes whether
the report of it were true, which he could not help
thinking to have been much exaggerated. Upon re-
ceiving an intimation of this from Dr. Sheridan, Mr.
Mathew wrote a polite letter to the Dean, requeſting
the honour of a viſit in company with the Doctor, on
his next ſchool vacation. They fet out accordingly on
horfeback, attended by a Gentleman who was a near
relation of Mr. Mathew, and from whom I received
the whole of the following account. They had ſcarce
reached the inn where they were to paſs the firſt night,
and which, like most of the Iriſh inns at that time, af-
forded but miferable entertainment, when a coach and
fix horſes arrived, fent to convey them the remainder
of their journey to Thomas-town; and at the fame
time bringing ſtore of the choiceft viands, wine, and
other liquors for their refreshment. Swift was highly
pleafed with this uncommon mark of attention paid
him, and the circumftance of the coach proved parti-
cularly agreeable, as he had been a good deal fatigued
with
DOCTOR SWIFT.
359
with his day's journey. When they came within fight
of the houſe, the Dean, aftonished at its magnitude,
cried out, "What, in the name of God can be the uſe
of fuch a vaſt building?" Why, Mr. Dean," re-
plied their fellow-traveller before-mentioned, "there
are no less than forty apartments for guests in that
houfe, and all of them probably occupied at this time,
except what are referved for us." Swift, in his ufual
manner, called out to the coachman to step, and bade
him turn about, and drive him back to Dublin, for he
could not think of mixing with ſuch a croud. "Well,"
faid he, afterwards fuddenly, "there is no remedy, I
muſt ſubmit; but I have loft a fortnight of my life.”
Mr. Mathew received him at the door with uncommon
marks of reſpect; and then conducting him to his
apartment, after fome compliments, made him his
ufual fpeech; acquainting him with the cuftoms of the
houfe, and retired, leaving him in poffeffion of his
Caſtle. Soon after the cook appeared with his bill of
fare, to receive his directions about fupper, and the
butler at the fame time with a lift of wines and other
fiquors. "And is all this really fo," faid Swift, "and
may I command here as in my own houfe ?" The Gentle-
man before mentioned affured him he might, and that
nothing could be more agreeable to the owner of that
manſion, than that all under his roof fhould live con-
formably to their own inclinations, without the leaſt re-
fraint. "Well, then," faid Swift, "I invite you and
Dr. Sheridan to be my guests while I ftay, for I think
I fhall hardly be tempted to mix with the mob below."
Three days were paffed in riding over the demefne, and
viewing the feveral improvements, without ever ſeeing
Mr. Mathew, or any of the gueſts; nor were the com-
pany below much concerned at his abfence, as his very
name ufually infpired thofe who did not know him with
A a 4
awe,
360
THE LIFE OF
awe, and they were afraid his prefence would put an
end to that eafe and cheerfulnefs which reigned among
them. On the fourth day, Swift entered the room
where the company were affembled before dinner, and
addreffed Mr. Mathew in one of the fineft compli-
mental speeches that ever was made; in which he ex-
patiated on all the beauties of his improvements, with
the fkill of an artiſt, and taste of a connoiffeur. He
fhewed that he had a full comprehenfion of the whole
of the plan, and of the judicious adaption of the
parts to the whole, and pointed out feveral articles
which had efcaped general obfervation. Such an ad-
drefs, from a man of Swift's character, could not fail
of being pleafing to the owner, who was at the fame
time the planner of thefe improvements; and fo fine an
eulogium from one who was fuppofed to deal more in
fatyr than panegyric, was likely to remove the prejudice
entertained against his character, and prepoffefs the reft
of the company in his favour. He concluded his
fpeech, by faying, "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen,
I am come to live among you, and it fhall be no fault
of mine if we do not pafs our time agreeably." After
dinner, being in high fpirits, he entertained the com-
pany with various pleafantries: Doctor Sheridan and
he played into one another's hands; they joked, they
punned, they laughed, and a general gaiety was diffu-
fed through the whole company. In a fhort time all
conſtraint on his account difappeared. He entered
readily into all their little ſchemes of promoting mirth,
and every day, with the affiftance of his Coadjutor,
produced fome new one, which afforded a good deal
of fport and merriment. Never were fuch joyous
fcenes known there before; for, when to eaſe and cheer-
fulness, there is fuperadded, at times, the higher zeſt
of gay wit, lively fancy, and droll humour, nothing
can
DOCTOR SWIFT.
351
can be wanting to the perfection of the focial pleaſures
of life. When the time came which obliged Dr. She-
ridan to return to his fchool, the company were fo de-
lighted with the Dean, that they earneftly intreated him
to remain there fome time longer; and Mr. Mathew
himfelf for once broke through his rule of never folicit-
ing the ftay of any gueft, (it being the eftablished cuf
tom of the houfe that all might depart whenever they
thought proper, without any ceremony of leave-taking)
by joining in the request. Swift found himfelf fo
happy in his fituation there, that he readily yielded to
their folicitations, and inftead of the fortnight which he
had originally intended, paffed four months there much
to his own fatisfaction, and that of all thofe who vifited
the place during that time. Having gone fomewhat
out of my way to give an account of the owner of this
happy manfion, I am tempted to digrefs a little farther
by relating an adventure he was engaged in, of ſo fin-
gular a kind, as deferves well to be recorded. It was
towards the latter end of Queen Anne's reign, when
Mr. Mathew returned to Dublin, after his long refi-
dence abroad. At that time party ran very high, but
raged no where with fuch violence as in that City, in-
fomuch, that duels were every day fought there on that
fcore. There happened to be, at that time, two
Gentlemen in London who valued themſelves highly
on their ſkill in fencing; the name of one of them was
Pack, the other Creed; the former a Major, the latter
a Captain in the army. Hearing of thefe daily exploits.
in Dublin, they refolved, like two Knight-errants, to
go over in queft of adventures. Upon enquiry, they
learned that Mr. Mathew, lately arrived from France,
had the character of being one of the firft fwordſmen
in Europe. Pack, rejoiced to find an antagoniſt wor-
thy of him, refolved the first opportunity to pick
quarrel
362
THE LIFE OF
quarrel with him; and meeting him as he was carried
along the street in his chair, joftled the fore-chairman.
Of this Mathew took no notice, as fuppofing it to be
accidental. But Pack afterwards boafted of it in the
public Coffee-houfe, faying, that he had purpoſely of-
fered this infult to that Gentleman, who had not the
fpirit to refent it. There happened to be preſent a par-
ticular friend of Mr. Mathew's of the name of Mac-
namara, a man of tried courage, and reputed the beſt
fencer in Ireland. He immediately took
He immediately took up the quar-
rel, and faid, he was fure Mr. Mathew did not ſuppoſe
the affront intended, otherwife he would have chaſtifed
him on the fpot: but if the Major would let him know
where he was to be found, he fhould be waited on im-
mediately on his friend's return, who was to dine that
day a little way out of town. The Major faid that he
fhould be at the tavern over the way, where he and his
companions vould wait their commands. Immediately
on his arrival, Mathew being made acquainted with
what had paffed, went from the coffee-houfe to the ta-
vern, accompanied by Macnamara. Being fhewn into
the room where the two Gentlemen were, after having
fecured the door, without any expoftulation, Mathew
and Park drew their fwords; but Macnamara ftopped
them, faying, he had fomething to propoſe before they
proceeded to action. He faid, in cafes of this nature,
he never could bear to be a cool fpectator, fo, Sir, (ad-
dreſſing himſelf to Creed) if you pleafe, I fhall have
the honour of entertaining you in the fame manner,
Creed, who defired no better ſport, made no other re-
ply than that of inftantly drawing his fword; and to
work the four champions fell, with the fame compofure
as if it were only a fencing match with foils. The
conflict was of fome duration, and maintained with
great obftinacy by the two officers, notwithstanding
the
DOCTOR SWIFT.
363
the great effufion of blood from the many wounds
which they had received. At length, quite exhaufted,
they both fell, and yielded the victory to the fuperior
fkill of their antagonists. Upon this occafion, Ma-
thew gave a remarkable proof of the perfect compoſure
of his mind during the action. Creed had fallen the
firft; upon which Pack exclaimed, “Ah, poor Creed,
are you gone?" "Yes," faid Mathew, very compo-
fedly, "And you fhall inftantly Pack after him;" at
the fame time making a home thruft quite through his
body, which threw him to the ground. This was the
more remarkable, as he was never in his life, either
before or after, known to have aimed at a pun. The
number of wounds received by the vanquished parties
was very great; and what feems almoſt miraculous,
their opponents were untouched. The furgeons, fee-
ing the defperate ftate of their patients, would not fuf-
fer them to be removed out of the room where they
fought, but had beds immediately conveyed into it, on
which they lay many hours in a ſtate of infenfibility,
When they came to themfelves, and faw where they
were, Pack, in a feeble voice, faid to his companion,
"Creed, I think we are the conquerors, for we have
kept the field of battle." For a long time their lives
were defpaired of, but to the aftonishment of every
one, they both recovered. When they were able to
fee company, Mathew and his friend attended them
daily, and a clofe intimacy afterwards enfued, as they
found them men of probity, and of the beft difpofi-
tions, except in this Quixotifh idea of duelling, where-
of they were now perfectly cured.
The Dean was often applied to, to redrefs private
grievances, by perfons of whom he had no knowledge;
and never failed to interpofe his good offices, when the
Gafe was fuch as merited his attention. Among thefe
he
疹​が
​354
THE LIFE OF
he was particularly ftruck with that of a young Gentle-
man in the College of the name of Fitzherbert; whofe
father, though a man of confiderable eftate, had treat-
ed him with great inhumanity, banishing him his houfe,
and not affording him the common neceffaries of life.
The young man, driven almoft to defperation, though
he had no other acquaintance with Swift than that of
feeing him fometimes at Dr. Sheridan's fchool, where
he was bred, drew up fo affecting a narrative of his
cafe, and in fuch a maſterly ftyle, in a letter to the
Dean, as gave him a high opinion of his talents and
genius, and rendered him an object well worthy of his
protection. Accordingly he wrote to the father, who
was a ſtranger to him, in very ftrong terms; highly ex-
tolling his fon's abilities, and recommending him to
his favour *. He waited for an anfwer to this letter
from the father, before he could make a fatisfactory re-
ply to that of the fon; but after fome days had elapfed,
the young man growing impatient of the Dean's filence,
refolved to fecond his firſt addrefs in profe, by another in
poetry, and fent him the following copy of verfes.
To the DEAN of ST. PATRICK'S.
Obfcure in garret vile I lay,
And flumber'd out the tedious day;
Or par'd my nails, or watch'd the cries
Of favoury faufages or pies;
Or ftrove, with dexterous art, to hide
Chinks in my ſtockings gaping wide;
Or read old Authors o'er and o'er,
In number hardly half a fcore;
Thofe, dufty, tatter'd, full of holes;
The reft were gone to purchaſe coals.
* This letter is to be found in the printed Collection.
* In
DOCTOR SWIFT.
DOC:
365
In profe I told how EPICTETUS,
Upon a pinch, the beft of meat is;
On which I was compell'd to dine,
While gay PETRONIUS paid for wine.
How HORACE cater'd, PLUTARCH, pot-
Companion boon, difcharg'd my shot.
How TULLY too the kennel thumps,
Converted to a pair of pumps.
I told how GULLIVER, with fenfe
Enrich'd me firft, and then with pence.
And ah! I might with tears relate
Poor metamorphos'd VI GIL's fate;
Who, having erſt adorn'd my leg,
Now hangs and rots upon a peg.
Unable to difmifs a croud
Of Duns importunate and loud:
Tho' pinch'd with hunger, thirft, and cold,
I yet difdain'd to have it told.
Too proud for pity, I ſuppreſs'd
The fighs that ſtruggl'd in my breaft;
And while a vulture gnaw'd my heart,
Smiles in my face, conceal'd the ſmart.
Ye younger brothers, who inherit,
In lieu of fortune, the bon fpirit;
For which, unleſs your father's bail,
You muſt for ever rot in jail;
Ye gameflers, who have loft Codill,
Unpaid as yet your taylor's bill;
Ye thieves, detected on the top
Of houfes, or within a fhop;
Ye tender damfels, who beftow
Your virgin treaſures on a beau,
Forfaken of your fop, the ſcorn
Of bitter prudes, and quite forlorn;
Alluding to his former profe-letter to the Dean.
Say,
366
THE LIFE OF
Say, did ye oftner wiſh to die,
Or feel fincerer grief than I?
Now ripe with injuries and age,
My fpirits kindle into rage;
Now vifionary projects roll,
And croud tumultuous on my foul.
So fire conceal'd from human eyes,
In Mount Vefuve or Ætna lies,
Till burft at laft, and finding vent,
Is to the clouds with fury fent.
My ſtory to the Dean I wrote
With great expence of oil and thought;
Did he receive it with a nod,
Profeſs it was extremely odd ?
Did he his ſhoulders fhrug, or think
My caufe unworthy of his ink?
Did he a ragged youth deſpiſe?
Ah! no, the Dean is juft and wife;
And truth an eaſy paffage finds,
Like a full tide, to generous minds.
Hail Bard and Patriot! could I hope
The Mufes would from thee elope,
To make me, by their mighty pow'r,
A Poet only for an hour;
Thy matchleſs virtues fhould be known
In verfe as lafting as your own.
But I ne'er taſted of the fpring
Which taught immortal Swift to fing;
Nor e'er invok'd the tuneful nine
To help me with a fingle line
Then let your own Apollo praiſe
Your virtue, humour, wit, and eaſe.
Swift on receipt of this, returned a fhort anfwer, and
inclofed a bill for twenty pounds, telling him he ſhould
foon hear from him again. He then went to his father,
and
DOCTOR SWIFT.
367
and having rated him fufficiently for want of manners in
not answering his letter, proceeded to the affair of his
fon. The gentleman, who had nothing to offer in his ex-
cufe, exceedingly alarmed at the refentment fhewn by
Swift for his neglect, to make amends for this, immedi-
ately acquiefced in any meafures that Swift might pro-
pofe, with regard to the object of his vifit; and it was
agreed upon the ſpot, that the young gentleman fhould
be fent immediately to Leyden to ftudy phyfic, with a
fuitable allowance for his fupport.
in
In one of his rambles through the country of Ireland,
he happened to ftop at a ſmall village in fome part of the
Bog of Allen. The landlord of the houſe to which he
was directed for entertainment, was quite unfurnished of
every kind of proviſion that might refreth either himſelf
or his horfes. The Dean feeing a Church not far off, en-
quired who was the parfon, and where he lived; being
informed in theſe points, he defired the landlord to go
his name, and beg a little hay and oats for his horſes;
who brought him back for anfwer, that the Vicar, Mr.
Hervey, would fend him none; but if the Dean would
do him the honour to take fhare of his dinner, which was
near ready, he ſhould have as much as he pleaſed. The
Dean readily accepted the invitation; and going imme-
diately to Mr. Hervey's, afked what he had for dinner?
A fhoulder of lamb and fallad. And what have you got
to drink? Some pretty good ale; and had I known of
your coming, I would have had a bottle of wine. Wine!
faid the Dean, what is your vicarage worth? About four-
fcore pounds a year. And dares fuch a little fellow as
you pretend to drink wine? Only on extraordinary occa-
fions. The Dean was much pleafed with his hoft and his
entertainment; and when he was going away, he called
to his fervant to take good notice of that Clergyman,
"And be fure remember, if ever he fhould come to en-
quire
368
THE LIFE OF
J$
quire for me at the Deanery, to ſay I am not at home."
Mr. Hervey underſtood his meaning well; and on his
next viſit to Dublin, did not fail to pay his refpects to the
Dean; who received him very cordially, and entertained
him with great kindneſs.
Once ftopping at an inn at Dundalk, he fent for a bar-
ber to fhave him; who performed his office very dexter-
ouſly, and being a prating fellow, amufed the Dean du--
ring the operation, with a variety of chat. The Dean.
enquired of him who was the minifter of his pariſh, and
whether he had one farthing to rub upon another? The
barber anfwered, that though the benefice was but ſmall,
the incumbent was very rich. "How the plague can
that be?" Why, pleaſe your Reverence, he buys up
frizes, flannels, ftockings, fhoes, brogues, and other
things when cheap, and fells them at an advanced price
to the parishioners, and fo picks up a penny. The Dean
was curious to fee this Vicar, and difmiffing the barber
with a fhilling, defired the landlord to go in his name,
and afk that gentleman to eat a mutton chop with him,
for he had beſpoke a yard of mutton (the name he uſu-
ally gave to the neck) for dinner. Word was brought
back that he had rid abroad to viſit ſome fick parifhio-
Why then, faid the Dean, invite that prating bar-
ber, that I may not dine alone. The barber was rejoiced
at this unexpected honour, and being dreffed out in his
beft apparel, came to the inn, firft enquiring of the groom
what the Clergyman's name was, who had fo kindly in-
vited him; what the vengeance, faid the fervant, don't
you know Dean Swift? At which the barber turned pale,
faid his babling tongue had ruined him; then ran into the
houſe, fell upon his knees, and intreated the Dean not to
put him into print; for that he was a poor barber, had a
large family to maintain, and if his Reverence put him
into black and white, he fhould lofe all his cuſtomers.
ners.
Swift
DOCTOR SWIFT.
369
Swift laughed heartily at the poor fellow's fimplicity; bade
him fit down and eat his dinner in peace, for he affured
him he would neither put him, or his wife, or the Vicar
in print. After dinner, having got out of him the hiſtory
of the whole parifh, he difmiffed him with half a crown,
highly delighted with the adventures of the day.
One day Swift obferved a great rabble affembled in a
large ſpace before the Deanery-door in Kevin ſtreet, and
upon enquiring the caufe of this, was told it was to fee
the eclipfe. He immediately fent for the beadle, and
gave him his leffon what he fhould do. Away ran Davy
for his bell, and after ringing it fome time among the
croud, bawled out, O yes, O yes, all manner of perfons
concerned, are defired to take notice, that it is the Dean
of St. Patrick's will and pleaſure, that the eclipſe be put
off till this hour to-morrow. So God fave the King, and
his Reverence the Dean. The mob upon this notice im-
mediately diſperſed; only fome, more cunning than the
reft, fwore they would not lofe another afternoon,' for that
the Dean, who was a very comical man, might take it in-
to his head to put off the eclipfe again, and fo make fools
of them a fecond time.
Swift, once in a private conference between fome of the
Miniftry and Monfieur Menage, acted as interpreter.
Obferving both parties using their utmoſt endeavours to
deceive each other, and that the whole time was ſpent in
diſguiling their true defigns, and finding artful evaſions,
his impatience aroſe to that height, that forgetting his fi
tuation as interpreter, he took upon him to offer his ad-
vice to the Minifters on both fides, which was, in fhort,
to ſpeak plain truth and nothing elfe; adding, that if
they followed that method, they would do as much bufi-
neſs in an hour, as they then did in a week.
In one of his jaunts to Windfor with Lord Oxford,
being employed full as idly as Horace fays he was when
B b
taking
ፕ
370
LIFE OF
THE
taking the air with Mæcenas, they were playing a 'fort of
game called Cocks and Hens; which confifted in each of
them counting the poultry on his fide of the road, and
which-ever reckoned thirty-one firft, or faw a cat, or an
old woman in a certain pofture, won the game. It hap-
pened while they were thus engaged, Lord Bolingbroke's
coach overtook them, who got into that of Lord Oxford,
and immediately entered upon fome political bufinefs.
He had not talked long before Lord Oxford cried out,
"Swift, I am up, there is a cat." Lord Bolingbroke,
much offended at this, called to the coachiman to ſtop,
got out of the carriage, faying, " when his Lordſhip was
diſpoſed to be ſerious, he would talk to him about bufi-
nefs." This feems to have happened when things were
tending towards that breach between them, which all the
Dean's addrefs and influence were not able to cloſe.
Swift, like many who jeft freely on others, could not
bear a retort. Dining one day at a public dinner of the
Mayor and Corporation at Corke, he obferved that Alder-
man Brown, father to the Bishop of that diocefe, fed very
'heartily without ſpeaking a word, and was fo intent upon
that buſineſs, as to become a proper object of ridicule.
Accordingly he threw out many fuccefsful jefts upon the
› Alderman, who fed on with the filence of the ftill fow,
neither feeming to regard what the Dean faid, nor at all
moved by the repeated burfts of laughter at his expence.
Toward the latter end of the meal, Swift happened to be
helped to fome roaſted duck, and defired to have ſome
apple fauce on the fame plate; upon which the Alderman
, bawled out, “Mr. Dean, you eat your duck like a gooſe.”
This unexpected fally threw the company into a long con-
tinued fit of laughter, and Swift was filent the reſt of the
day.
-
One time going out of town, he ſaid to Mr. Cope,
will you write to me?" And without waiting for an
aufwer,
3
DOCTOR SWIFT.
371
L
CC
anfwer, continued, No, I forgo, you are an idle man,
and will never find time." He spent a good deal of time
in the north at Mr. Robert Cope's, and was member of a
club confifting of the neighbours who met periodically:
one of the members was an old man remarkably ſtiff and
furly; who valued himſelf much upon great plantations
of fir-trees which he had raifed about his houfe. Swift
defired to look at them; and having put a ruler in his
pocket for the purpoſe, faid he would try whether they
were planted at exact diftarices, and laying down his ru-
ler, went obliquely on purpoſe from tree to tree, faying,
he that planted them knew nothing of the matter.
old gentleman fnatched up the rule in a great paffion,
fwearing he never faw fuch a fool of a meafurer in all his
life.
The
There was a trap laid for the fame old gentleman by
one of the merry members of the club, Dr. Tifdal,
who riding in company with Dr. Swift and others, near
his houſe, laid a wager that he would make old Work-
man call himſelf Bruin the Bear. had before-hand
Yes.
He
known that it was his day for brewing. They all rid up
to the door, when Tifdal accoſted the old gentleman with,
έσ Pray, Mr. Workman, are not you brewing to-day?"
"Are you brewing the barley, or brewing the
beer ""Brewing the barley," faid Workman, to Tif
dal's great diſappointment; who, befide lofing his wager,
had the laugh of the company against him.
A young gentleman, much addicted to laughing, hap-
pened to get into Swift's company; and having heard
much of the Dean's pleaſantries, was upon the titter at
every thing he faid.
"Where is the jeft?" faid fome
one. "There," faid Swift, pointing at the laughing
young gentleman.
One day travelling in England, he asked a farmer
which was the road to fuch a place; the farmer faid it lay
Bb 2
ftrait
372
THE LIFE OF
ftrait before him, he could not mifs it. Swift riding a
little way, obferved a by-road to the left, and turned into
it. The farmer called out to him that he was going
wrong. "Why," faid Swift, "did not you tell me I
could not miss it?" "No more you could," faid the far-
mer, "if you had not been a fool.”
Another time feeing a man fall from his horfe in a
flough, he rode up to him, enquiring whether he was
hurt?"No," replied the farmer, "but I am woundily
bemired." "You make good the old proverb," ſaid
Swift, "The more dirt, the lefs hurt." The man ſeem-
ed much comforted with the old faying, but faid he had
never heard of that proverb before; and no wonder, for
Swift had made it on the occafion. He ufed often to con
proverbs of that fort, and paſs them for old.
d
One day walking in the garden of a stingy old gentle-
man, with many others in company, he faw a quantity of
fine fruit, of which the owner never offered them a tafte;
Swift ftopt at a peach-tree loaded with tempting fruit,
and addreffed the company with" It was an old faying
of my grandmother's, always pull a peach, when it lies
in your
reach :" he accordingly plucked one; and his ex-
ample was immediately followed by all the reft, under the
fanction of that good old faying.
He had many uſeful rules which he threw into rhime
for the more eaſy recollection of them. One of them I
remember was a direction to thofe who ride together
through the water.
When thro' the water you do ride,
Keep very cloſe, or very wide.
Another related to the decanting of wine.
Firſt rack flow, and then rack quick,
Then rack flow, till you come to the thick
I'm
DOCTOR SWIF T.
373
In a converfation with Dr. Ellwood, the Doctor hap-
pened to ſpeak of ſome one, as a fine old gentleman;
what, faid Swift, have you kept company with me theſe
twenty years, and have not the common fenſe to know
that there is no fuch thing as a fine old gentleman; be-
cauſe, if the perſons to whom that title is given, had been
poffeffed either of a mind or body worth a farthing, they
would have worn them out before they arrived at that
age.
-
Dining one day at Mr. B his fon, the prefent Mr.
B― then very young, was fent into the parlour after
dinner to pay his compliments to the Dean.
compliments to the Dean. His mother,
Lady B—, had always kept him dreft in the niceſt
manner. After drinking a glass of wine, and ſtaying a
little while with the company, he returned to his father,
who was confined to his chamber with the gout.
"Well,
Will, what did the Dean fay to you?" I heard him fay,
as I was leaving the room," Enfant gate.” His father
laughed, and told it Lady Betty. This came round to
the Dean before he left the houfe; who faid upon it-
"What a confounded blockhead was 1, to think there
could be fuch a thing as a ſpoiled child who had not learned
French."
In the purſuit of the Bagatelle, he often deſcended to
puerilities. Paffing fome time in the country, where Dan
Jackſon was one of the company (he whofe long nofe
furniſhed a ſubject for ſeveral humourous copies of verſes
to be found in the collection) Swift ufed to try many prac-
tical jokes on him. One day he pretended to lay hold of
a creeper on Dan's neck, and put himſelf in the poſture
of cracking it on the table with his thumb nail, at the
fame time making a noife fimilar to it with the joint of his
finger; a common fchool-boy's trick. He had ferved
him in this manner more than once, when Dan refolved
to be prepared for him if he ever attempted it again.
Bb 3
With
374
THE LIFE OF
With this view he procured a loufe of the largest fize he
could get, and ſtopping it up in a quill, kept it in his
pocket. It was not long before Swift repeated the trick;
when Dan Jackfon took an opportunity, while the Dean
was looking another way, of unftopping the quill, and
dropping the loufe juft before him, calling out Mr. Dean-
Mr. Dean-you have miffed killing it this time, there it
is crawling just before you. This turned the laugh againſt
Swift, and put an end to that and fome other of his.
pranks, as he found Dan was not fo patient a butt as he
had taken him for, and knew how to retaliate with ad-
vantage.
Cne
Among other jeux d'efprit, he was fond of punning,
and uſed to ſay that none diſliked it but thofe who could
not make one. The old Lord Pembroke was a remark-
able punſter, and when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, de-
lighted much in Swift's company on that account.
day being at the Caſtle when a learned phyſician was read-
ing a long lecture to his Excellency on the nature and qua-
lities of bees, calling them on every occafion, a nation,
and a commonwealth ; "Yes, my Lord," faid Swift,
"they a very ancient nation; you know, my Lord, Mofes
takes notice of them; he numbers the Hivites among
thoſe nations which Jofhua was appointed to conquer."
Lord Pembroke had brought over with him, as his firft
Chaplain, one Dr. Mills, a man remarkable for a large
Roman nofe, againſt whom Swift had taken a particular
diſlike. After dining one day with a private party at the
Caftle, of which Mills was one, Swift began to rail at the
Lord Lieutenants of Ireland for bringing over fuch block-
heads for Chaplains as they ufually did. Lord Pembroke
faid, that cenfure could not be applied to him, as his firſt
Chaplain prefent had been a profeffor at Oxford, and was
accounted an excellent fcholar. "He a ſcholar," faid
Swift! I dare fay he does not know how to conftrue
a line
DOCTOR SWIFT.
375
a line of Virgil." Lord Pembroke, who expected fome
fport from this, took part with his Chaplain, faying,
"he was fure there was no paffage in Virgil which he
could not perfectly explain." "Let the book be
brought," faid Swift. Accordingly a Virgil was fent
for, and Swift opening the book, pitched upon the fol-
lowing line. Romanos rerum dominos gentemque togatam.
Mills immediately tranflated it very properly in the
ufual way.
There," fays Swift, "I knew he could
not do it he has not conftrued one word of it right."
"Why, pray how would you conftrue it ?" Thus-Ro-
manos-you've a Roman nofe—rerum-you're a rare
rum-dominos-damn your nofe-gentemque togatam,
and the whole race of Chaplains. Swift then took up
his hat and walked off, leaving Lord Pembroke and
the rest of the party laughing heartily at the droll fcene
which had juſt paffed.
cr
Now I am upon the ſubject of his punning, I cannot
refrain from mentioning an excellent one which he
made at my father's, in a happy application of one of
Virgil's lines. It happened that a Lady whifking about
her long train, which was then the faſhion, threw down
and broke a fine Cremona fiddle belonging to him;
upon which Swift cried out-
Mantua ve mifer nimium vicina Cremqnæ !
Once in the country he was making enquiries about
a gentleman in the neighbourhood, with whom the
others did not feem to affociate, and aſked the reafon
of it. They ſaid he was a very ftupid fellow. Swift
fome time after, in one of his rides, overtook him,
and entered into converfation with him by praifing his
horfe, faying, among other things, that he carried a
very fine tail; to which the gentleman replied, "and
B b 4
your's
376
LIFE OF
THE
your's carries the beſt head in Ireland." The Dean, on
his return, related this as a very clever faying, and
wondered how they could account the author of it ftu-
pid. One of the company, when he next faw the
gentleman, told him how much the Dean was pleafed
with what he had faid to him. "Why, what was it,"
faid the other? "You told him that his horfe carried
the best head in Ireland." "And fo he does," replied
the gentleman, (utterly unconſcious of his having faid
a good thing) "I think I never faw a horfe with a
finer forehand."
When George Faulkner the printer returned from
London, where he had been foliciting fubfcriptions for
his edition of the Dean's Works, he went to pay his
reſpects to him, dreft in a laced waiſtcoat, a bag-wig,
and other fopperies. Swift received him with all the
ceremony that he would fhew to a perfect stranger.
Pray, Sir, what are your commands with me?" « I
thought it my duty to wait on you immediately on my
arrival from London." "Pray, Sir, who are you?"
George Faulkner the printer. "You George Faulkner
the printer! why, thou art the most impudent bare-
faced impoftor I ever heard of. George Faulkner is a
fober fedate citizen, and would never trick himſelf out
in lace, and other fopperies. Get about your buſi,
nefs, and thank your stars that I do not fend you to
the Houſe of Correction." Poor George hobbled
away as fast as he could, and having changed his ap-
parel, returned immediately to the Deanery. Swift,
on feeing him, went up to him with great cordiality,
fhook him familiarly by the hand, faying, my good
friend, George, I am heartily glad to fee you ſafe re-
turned. Here was an impudent fellow in a lace waist-
coat, who would feign have paffed for you; but I foon
fent him packing with a flea in his ear.
مینم
He
t
DOCTOR SWIFT.
377
He could not bear to have any lies told him, which
he never failed to detect; and when the party endea-
voured to palliate them, his ufual expreffion was-
"Come, come, don't attempt to darn your cobwebs.'
It was a faying of his, that an excufe was worſe than a
lie, becauſe an excufe was a lie guarded.
There was a violent quarrel between the Dean and
Serjeant Betterworth, which for fome time made a great
noife in Dublin., It was occafioned by the following
verfes in one of Swift's Poems.
*
So at the bar the booby Bettefworth,
Tho' half a crown outpays his fweats---worth,
Who knows in law, nor text, nor margent,
Calls Singleton his brother Serjeant.
The animofity of the Dean against the Serjeant, did
not arife from any perfonal pique, but on account of
his being an avowed enemy of the clergy, and taking
the lead in the Houſe of Commons in procuring one
of the moſt unjuſt and arbitrary votes ever made by
that body, by which the clergy were deprived of a
confiderable part of their tythes, which they had en-
joyed time immemorial.
a
The Poem was fent to Bettefworth when he was in
company with fome of his friends, from one of whom
then prefent, I had the following account. He read
it aloud till he had finiſhed the lines relative to himſelf,
He then flung it down with great violence, he trembled
and turned pale; and after fome paufe, his rage for
while depriving him of utterance, he took out his pen-
knife, and opening it, vehemently fwore, with this very
pen-knife, by G---d, will I cut off his ears. Soon af-
ter he went to ſeek the Dean at his houſe, and not find-
ing him at home, followed him to Mr. Worral's, where
he
378
OF
THE LIFE
he had an interview with him, which has been defcribed
by Swift in a letter to the Duke of Dorfet, then Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland. But as there are fome paffages
omitted in that narrative, which he related to Dr. She-
ridan, immediately after the ſcene had paffed, I ſhall
here infert fuch part of them as I recollect. Upon
enquiring for Swift, the Serjeant was fhewn into the
ftreet parlour, and the Dean called out to him from
the back room, where he was fitting after dinner with
Worral and his wife. Upon entering the room, Swift
defired to know his commands. "Sir," fays he, "I
am Serjeant Bet-tef-worth," (which was always his pom-
pous way of pronouncing his own name in three diftin&t
fyllables) "Of what regiment, pray?" fays Swift.
"O, Mr. Dean we know your powers of raillery; you
know me well enough, that I am one of his Majefty's
Serjeants at Law." What then, Sir? Why then, Sir,
re
I am come to demand of you, whether you are the au-
thor of this Poem (producing it) and theſe villainous
lines on me." At the fame time reading them aloud
with great vehemence of emphafis, and much gefticu-
lation. "Sir," faid Swift, "It was a piece of advice
given me in my early days by Lord Somers, never to
own or difown any writing laid to my charge; becauſe
if I did this in fome cafes, whatever I did not difown
afterwards, would infallibly be imputed to me as mine.
Now, Sir, I take this to have been a very wife maxim,
and as fuch have followed it ever fince; and I believe
it will hardly be in the power of all your rhetoric, as
great a maſter as you are of it, to make me fwerve from
that rule." Many other things paffed as related in the
above-mentioned letter. But when Bettefworth was
going away, he faid, "Well, fince you will give me no
fatisfaction in this affair, let me tell you, your gown is
your protection; under the fanction of which, like one
of
}
DOCTOR SWIFT.
379
of your own Yahoos who had climbed up to the top
of a high tree, you fit fecure, and fquirt your filth
round on all mankind.". Swift had candour enough
not to conceal this laft circumftance, at the fame time
faying, "that the fellow fhewed more wit in this than
he thought him poffeffed of." After this, as Bettef
worth ſtill continued to utter furious threats againſt the
Dean, there was an affociation formed and figned by all
the principal inhabitants of that quarter, to ftand by
one another with their lives and fortunes, in fupport of
their general benefactor, againſt any one who ſhould
attempt to offer the leaft injury to his perfon or fortune.
Befide which, the publick indignation was kindled
against him for this treatment of their great favourite,
and the refentment of all the wits was poured out up-
on him in a vaſt effufion of libels, pointed with ridi-
cule, or edged with fatyr, which placed his character
in a contemptible, or an odious light; fo that the un-
fortunate Serjeant, who had before made a confiderable
figure at the bar, in a ſhort time loft his buſineſs, and
was feldom employed in any fuit afterwards; fo dan-
gerous was it to attack this idol of the people.
He was always attended by two fervants when he rode
out, but he walked through the streets, and did not
put on his fpatterdafhes (which he always wore inftead
of boots) and fpurs, till he came to the place of
mounting. One day, being detained longer than ufual,
and enquiring into the caufe, he found it was owing
to a difpute between the two fervants, to which of their
offices it belonged to carry the fpatterdaſhes and fpurs.
Swift foon fettled the matter, by making each of them
carry one of each, and in that manner walk behind him
through the streets. The blackguards of Dublin, who
are remarkable for low humour, foon fmoked the de-
ſign, and ridiculed the fellows as they paffed along in
fuch
380
THE LIFE OF
fuch a way as made them quite afhamed of themſelves,
and willing to come to a compromife. But Swift, to
puniſh them, made them continue their progrefs in the
fame way, enjoying the low jokes of the mob as they
paffed; till at their earneſt entreaty afterwards they
were allowed to take it turn about.
He had often fome whimsical contrivance to puniſh
his fervants for any neglect of his orders, fo as to make
them more attentive for the future. The hiring of the
maid-fervants he left to his houfe-keeper; and when
that ceremony was over, he uſed to fend for them,
faying, he had but two commands to give them; one
was, to fhut the door after them whenever they came.
into a room; the other, to fhut the door after them
when they went out of a room; and bade them be very
punctual in executing theſe orders.
One of thefe
maids went to him on a particular occafion, to requeſt
that he might be allowed to go to her fifter's wedding,
which was to be on that day, at a place diftant about
ten miles from Dublin. Swift not only confented, but
faid he would lend her one of his horfes, with a fervant
to ride before her; and gave his directions accordingly.
The maid in the midſt of her joy for this favour, for-
got to fhut the door after her when the left the room.
In about a quarter of an hour after ſhe was gone, the
Dean ordered a fervant to faddle another horfe, and
make what fpeed he could after them, and wherever he
overtook them, to oblige them to return immediately.
They had not got much above half way, when he came
up with them, and told them it was the Dean's pofitive
commands that they fhould return inftantly; with
which, however reluctantly, the poor girl was obliged
to comply. When he came into Swift's prefence,
with a moft mortified countenance, fhe begged to know
his Reverence's commands. "Nothing, child," faid
he,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
381
he, "only you forgot to ſhut the door after you." But
not to carry the puniſhment too far, he then permitted
her to pursue her journey.
There was nothing Swift diſliked more than applica-
tions from witlings and poetafters to look over their
pieces, and he generally had fome whimsical contrivance
to make them repent of this, which, being told, might
alfo deter others from the like. Among thefe, there
was a poor author of my acquaintance, who had writ-
ten a very indifferent tragedy, and got himfelf intro-
duced to the Dean, in order to have his opinion of it.
In about a fortnight after the delivery, he called at the
Deanery to know how he approved of it. Swift return-
ed the play carefully folded up, telling him he had
read it, and taken fome pains with it; and he believed
the author would not find above half the number of
faults in it that it had when it came into his hands.
Poor Davy, after a thouſand acknowledgments to the
Dean for the trouble he had taken, retired in company
with the gentleman who had first introduced him, and
was ſo impatient to fee what corrections Swift had made,
that he would not wait till he got home, but got under
a gateway in the next ftreet, and, to his utter aſtoniſh-
ment and confufion, faw that the Dean had taken the
pains to blot out every fecond line throughout the whole
play, fo carefully, as to render them utterly illegible.
Nor was it in the power of the unfortunate author to
conceal his difgrace, as his friend, from whom I had
the ftory, thought it too good a joke to be loſt.
Swift, whatever maftery he had gained over the
greater paffions, had no command of his temper. He
was of a very irritable make, prone to fudden ſtarts of
paffion, in which his expreffions of courfe were not very
guarded. His friends made all due allowance for this,
knowing it to be an infirmity often attendant on the beſt
natures,
382
THE LIFE OF
natures, and never took any thing amifs that he faid or
did on fuch occafions. But Dr. Sheridan, when he faw
one of theſe fits coming on him, uſed to divert its courſe,
by fome whimsical ftroke of fancy that would fet him
a laughing, and give his humour another bent. And
in this he was fo fuccefsful, that one of their common
friends uſed to fay, that he was the David, who alone
could play the evil fpirit out of Saul. Among the ma-
ny off-hand poems, which they daily writ to each other,
there was one came to my hands, which, though ne-
gligently written, is fo defcriptive of the mode of their
living together, and fo characteristic of Swift's man-
ner, that I am tempted to lay it before the Public.
When he was difengaged, the Dean ufed often to call
in at the Doctor's about the hour of dining, and their
cuſtom was to fit in a ſmall back parlour tête à tête, and
have flices fent them upon plates from the common
room of whatever was for the family-dinner. The fur-
niture of this room was not in the beſt repair, being
often frequented by the boarders, of which the houſe.
was feldom without twenty; but was preferred by the
Dean as being more fnug than the ftate parlour, which
was uſed only when there was company. The fubject
of the Poem, is an account of one of theſe cafual vifits.
When to my houfe you come, dear Dean,
Your humble friend to entertain,
Thro' dirt and mire along the ſtreet,
You find no fcraper for your feet;
At which you ſtamp and ſtorm and ſwell,
Which ferves to clean your feet as well.
By fteps afcending to the hall,
All torn to rags by boys and ball,
With ſcatter'd fragments on the floor;
A fad uneafy parlour door,
Befmear'd with chalk, and carv'd with knives,
(A plague upon all careleſs wives)
Are
DOCTOR SWIFT.
393
Are the next fights you muſt expect,
But do not think they are my neglect.
Ah that theſe evils were the worst!
The parlour ftill is farther curſt.
To enter there if you advance,
If in you get, it is by chance.
How oft by turns have you and I
Said thus-" let me-no-let me try--
"This turn will open it I'll engage".
You puſh me from it in a rage.
Turning, twisting, forcing, fumbling,
Stamping, ftaring, fuming, grumbling,
At length it opens-in we go-
How glad are we to find it fo!
Conquefts thro' pains and dangers pleaſe,
Much more than thoſe attain'd with eaſe.
Are you difpos'd to take a feat ;
The inftant that it feels your weight,
Out go its legs and down you come
Upon your reverend Deanfhip's bum.
Betwixt two ftools 'tis often faid,
The fitter on the ground is laid;
What praiſe then to my chairs is due,
Where one performs the feat of two!
Now to the fire, if fuch there be,
At prefent nought but ſmoke we ſee.
Come, ftir it up-ho-Mr. Joker,
How can I ftir it without poker?
The bellows take, their batter'd nofe
Will ferve for poker, I fuppofe.
Now you begin to rake-alack
The grate has tumbled from its back
The coals all on the hearth are laid-
6C
Stay, Sir-I'll run and call the maid;
"She'll make the fire again complete-
"She knows the humour of the grate."
Pox take your maid, and you together-
'This is cold comfort in cold weather.
Now all is right again-the blaze
Suddenly rais'd as foon decays.
Once
384
THE LIFE OF
Once more apply the bellows-" So-
"Theſe bellows were not made to blow-
“Their leathern lungs are in decay,
"They can't even puff the ſmoke away.”
And is your Reverence vext at that?
Get up in God's name, take your hat;
Hang them, fay I, that have no fhift;
Come, blow the fire, good Doctor Swift.
If trifles fuch as theſe can teaſe you,
Plague take thoſe fools that ſtrive to pleaſe you.
Therefore no longer be a quarr❜ler
Either with me, Sir, or my parlour.
If you can reliſh ought of mine,
A bit of meat, a glass of wine,
You're welcome to it, and you
fhall fare
As well as dining with the Mayor.
"You faucy ſcab-you tell me ſo-
"Why booby-face, I'd have you know
"I'd rather ſee your things in order,
"Than dine in ftate with the Recorder.
"For water I muft keep a clutter,
"Orchide your wife for ftinking butter.
"Or getting fuch a deal of meat,
"As if you'd half the town to eat.
"That wife of your's, the Devil's in her,
"I've told her of this way of dinner,
"Five hundred times, but all in vain-
"Here comes a rump of beef again :
"Oh that that wife of your's would burf
"Get out, and ſerve the boarders firſt.
"Pox take 'em all for me-I fret
"So much, I ſhall not eat my meat-
"You know I'd rather have a flice."
I know, dear Sir, you are not nice;
You'll have your dinner in a minute,
Here comes the plate and flices in it-
Therefore no more, but take your place-
Do you fall to, and I'll fay grace.
MEMOIRS
DOCTOR SWIFT.
385
MEMOIRS and ANECDOTES of SWIFT, extracted
from the former Publications, by Dr. DELANY,
and others.
S Swift had been charged by many with want of
religion, Voltaire, and other Free-thinkers, wiſh-
ing to have a man of his genius inrolled in their claſs;
Doctor Delany enters into a juftification of him in that
respect. Among other paffages to this effect, are the
following: As to his religion, I myſelf have obferved
many ftrong indications and proofs of his fincerity in
it, befide thofe now mentioned. His faying Grace,
both before and after meat, was very remarkable. It
was always in the feweſt words that could be uttered
on the occafion, but with an emphaſis and fervour which
every one around him faw and felt, and with his hands
clafped into one another, and lifted up to his breaſt,
but never higher. The Religious and Chriftian form
of his laft will, and the many prayers compofed, and
conftantly offered up by him in Mrs. Johnfon's fick-
nefs, are ſtrong proofs to the fame purpoſe.
There was no vice in the world he fo much abhorred
as hypocrify; and of confequence nothing he dreaded
fo much as to be fufpected of it. This naturally led,
to make him verge fometimes too much to the other
extreme; and made him often conceal his piety with
more care, than others take to conceal their vices. I
have been affured by Doctor Delany, who lived for a
confiderable time in his houfe, that he refided with him
for more than fix months, before he knew, or fo much
as fufpected that he ever read prayers to his family.
Which neverthelefs he conftantly did, at a fixed hour
every night in his own bed-chamber, to which the fer-
C c
vants
386
THE LIFE OF
vants regularly and filently reforted, at the time ap-
pointed, without any notice from a bell, or audible
call of any kind, except the ftriking of a clock. And
I am well affured, that when he lived in London, his
conftant way was to go to early prayers, and facrament;
which he thought made him lefs diftinguifhed in his
devotions. But though in his private capacity he in-
dulged himſelf in his own method of paying his devo-
tions, yet when his duty called on him either as a pariſh
Prieſt, or Dean, no one performed all the functions of
that facred office in a more exemplary manner, becauſe
in this cafe nothing of oftentation could be imputed to
him. Of this Doctor Delany gives feveral inftances,
and concludes with a very remarkable one, where he
fays, after a good deal of meditation upon Swift's cha-
racter, as a man of true religion, I think I have found
out one proof of it ſo clear and incontestable, as may
well fuperfede the neceffity of any other. His Cathe-
dral of St. Patrick's, is the only church in that city,
wherein the primitive practice of receiving the facra-
ment every Lord's day, was renewed, and is ftill con-
tinued; and to the beft of my remembrance and belief,
renewed in his time. At leaft, as he was Ordinary
there, it could not be continued without his confent;
and it is most certain that he conftantly attended that
holy office; confecrated and adminiſtered the Sacrament
in perfon. Nor do I believe he ever once failed to do
fo, when it was in his power; I mean when he was not
fick, or abfent at too great a diſtance.
His attention to the ceconomy of his Cathedral was
fuch, that he would not fuffer a fhilling of its revenues.
to be alienated from its proper ufe, even for the pur-
pofes of charity. If any thing of that kind was pro-
pofed, his answer was, that this money was appropri-
ated; but he would give out of his own pocket, in
proportion
DOCTOR SWIFT.
387
proportion to his income, as much towards any charitable
purpoſe, as any of them would in proportion to theirs.
Then turning to the perſon who made the propoſal, “You,
Sir, declare, upon your confcience, that the perfon you
now folicit for, is a proper object of Chriftian Charity.
My Deanery is worth ſeven hundred pounds a year; your
Prebend, worth two; if you will give two fhillings to this
charity, I will give feven, or any greater fum in the fame
proportion.
ter.
His ftrict religious attention to the revenues of the
Deanery, was fo great, that he never failed to fecrifice his
own prefent emoluments, to the reafonable profpects of
a future fufficient maintenance for his fucceffors and chap-
One inftance of this appeared moft remarkably in
the great decline, and almost total decay of his under-
ſtanding. He had refolved many years before, never to
renew a certain leafe of lands belonging to the Deanery,
without raifing the rent thirty pounds a year. The te-
nant had often applied to him for a renewal upon other
terms, but to no purpoſe. And finding now that Swift's
underſtanding was in the decay, and his avarice remark-
ably predominant; he thought this the proper feafon to
make his laſt effort for a renewal, and tempt him with
fuch a fine, as he was fure the Dean could not refift in
thofe circumſtances. Accordingly he made his attempt;
but to as little purpoſe as ever he had done before, the
Dean remaining immoveable. He refused a large fine, at
a time when he loved money incomparably beyond any
thing elſe in the world, and raiſed the rent, as he had
long fince refolved to do. I visited him the next day af
ter the renewal of this leafe, and enquiring after his health,
he told me in a tone of heavy complaint, that his me-
mory was almost totally gone, and his underſtanding
going; but that he had yesterday done fomething for the
benefit of his fucceffor, but he had forgot what; but Doc-
Cc 2
tor
388
THE LIFE OF
tor Wilfon (who then lived in the houfe with him) would
tell me.
I enquired, and was informed of this renewal,
as I have now related it.
As an Eccleſiaſtic, he was fcrupulouſly exact in the ex-
ercife of his function, as well with regard to temporal, as
fpiritual things. He expended more money to ſupport
and adorn his Cathedral, than had been applied to the
fame ufe in any period fince it was firft built. He was
extremely exact and confcientious in promoting the Mem-
bers of the Choir according to their merit, and never ad-
vanced any perſon to a Vicarage, who was not qualified
for it in all refpećts, whatever their intereft, or however
recommended. He once refuſed a Vicarage to a perfon
for whom Lady Carteret was very importunate; at the
fame time declaring to her Ladyfhip, that, if it had been
in his power to have made the Gentleman a Dean, or a
Biſhop, he would have obliged her willingly, becaufe, he
faid, Deaneries and Bishopricks were preferments in which
merit had no concern; but the merit of a Vicar would
be brought to the teſt every day.
It happened that a young Gentleman of his Choir be-
ing abroad with his gun, fuffered irreparable hurt by its
going off accidentally. When the Dean heard of it he
expreffed great concern, and having paufed a little,
"well," faid he, "this will be a good opportunity at
once to reward merit, and alleviate diftrefs; I will make
him a Vicar;" which he did accordingly the fame hour.
The poor in the liberty of his Cathedral, were better
regulated than any other in the kingdom; they were all
badged, and were never found begging out of their dif-
trict. For fome of thefe he built and furniſhed a little
almfhouſe, being affifted in this by fome voluntary con-
tributions; and preſerved among them uncommon clean-
linefs and decency, by conftantly vifiting them in perſon.
In
DOCTOR SWIFT.
389
In the diſtribution of his charity, that he might pro-
portion his bounty to the neceffities and merits of the
different objects he met with, and yet give but one piece
of money at a time, he conftantly kept a pocket full of
all forts of coin, from a filver three pence to a crown piece.
He was a ſtrenuous fupporter of all the rights and pri
vileges belonging to his Deanery, against all incroach-
ments attempted by his powerful neighbour the Arch-
bishop of Dublin; in oppofition to whom he determined
to affert his right of abfence without his Grace's permif-
fion, at the expence of feveral hundred pounds, at a time
when he did not believe he fhould ever again claim the
privilege for himſelf; but becauſe he would not endanger
the liberty of his fucceffor by an injurious precedent.
In contradiction to the account given of the great deco-
rum and folemnity with which Swift performed all reli-
gious duties, there are two ftories told by Lord Orrery,
to which I can give no credit. The first is thus related
by his Lordship: "As foon as he had taken poffeflion of
his two livings, he went to reſide at Laracor, and gave
public notice to his parishioners, that he would read pray-
ers every Wedneſday and Friday. Upon the fubiequent
Wedneſday the bell was rung, and the Rector attended in
his dek; when after having fate fome time, and finding
the congregation to confift only of himself, and his Clerk
Roger, he began with great compofure and gravity, but
with a turn peculiar to himfelf, "Dearly beloved Koger
-the Scripture moveth you and me in fundry places,"
&c. And then proceeded regularly through the whole
fervice. I mention this trifling circumftance only to fhew
you, that he could not refift a vein of humour, whenever
he had an opportunity of exerting it."
Now to fuppofe that a man of Swift's religious turn,
fhould have made fuch a mockery of this folemn act of
worſhip, and afterwards go through the whole fervice,
Cc 3
not-
390
THE LIFE OF
notwithſtanding the many abfurdities that would follow in
the courſe of it, from there being no congregation pre-
fent, merely for the fake of a paltry jeft, is too grofs an
impofition to be eafily fwallowed. It is not indeed im-
probable, that Swift afterwards, in relating this circum-
ftance, might have faid, he had a mind to begin the fer-
vice with Dearly beloved Roger," &c. and they who
heard this, as is frequently the cafe on fuch occafions,
thought it would improve the ftory much by making him
carry it into execution, and related it accordingly. The
other ſtory is thus told by his Lord hip. "His humour-
ous difpofition tempted him to actions inconfiftent with the
dignity of a Clergyman; and fuch flights drew upon him
the general character of an irreligious man: I remember
to have heard a ftory of him, that fully fhews how little
be regarded certain ceremonies, which ought always to be
obferved with refpect. Soon after he had been made
Dean of St. Patrick's, he was loitering one Sunday in the
afternoon at the houſe of Doctor Raymond, with whom
he had dined at Trim (a fmall town near Laracor) of
which the Doctor was Vicar. The bell had rung, and
the people were aſſembled for Evening Prayers. Doctor
Raymond was preparing to go to the Church, which was
fcarce two hundred yards from his houſe. Raymond,"
faid the Dean, "I will lay you a crown, I will begin the
Prayers before you this afternoon." "I accept the wa-
ger," replied Dr. Raymond; and immediately they both
ran as fast as they could towards the Church. Raymond,
who was the nimbler man of the two, arrived first at the
door; and when he entered the Church, walked decently
towards the reading defk. Swift never flackened his pace,
but running up the aifle, left Dr. Raymond behind him
in the middle of it, and ftepping into the reading defk,
without putting on a furplice, or opening the Prayer
Book, began the Liturgy in an audible voice, and conti-
tr
..
nued
DOCTOR
391
SWIFT.
nued to repeat the fervice fufficiently long to win the wa
ger."
Now it is very poffible that fuch an adventure
might have happened at that time between two Clergy-
men, and nothing more probable than that it would im-
mediately be transferred to Swift and his neighbour. We
fee it every day practifed, that witty Sayings, Blunders,
and things of Humour, are conftantly fathered upon the
moſt remarkable Wit, Blunderer, or Humouriſt of the
times, whether they belong to them or not.
As his Lordſhip has given no fort of authority for the
truth of the above ſtories, nor indeed for that of any
others that he has related to the prejudice of Swift, ex-
cept hear-fay; we may judge to what degree of credit
they are intitled.
Among the many falfe reprefentations made by his
Lordſhip, he has been attacked for one of them with
great ſpirit, by Doctor Delany, in the following paffage.
A friend of mine, turning over the Index to your Let-
ters, fhewed me thefe words-Swift's Seraglio-Surpriſed
at this, I immediately turned to the place; where, to my
much greater furprife, I found the following paragraph.
"You fee the command which Swift had over all his fe-
males; and you would have fmiled to have found his
houfe a conftant Seraglio of very virtuous women, who
attended him from morning to night, with an obedience,
an awe, and an affiduity, that are feldom paid to the
richeft, or the most powerful lovers; no, not even to the
Grand Seignior himfelf." This paragragh, my Lord,
gives me great concern, upon many accounts; though I
fhall mention only this one; that it feems to be written
in the ftyle of a man, who knew what he faid to be truth;
which yet most certainly was not, could not, be your
cafe; and therefore I conclude you wrote it in the ftyle
in which it was delivered to you, by your monstrous
mifinformers.
CC 4
My
392
THE LIFE OF
My Lord, the intercourfe in which my ftation engaged
me, for many years, with the Dean; my long intimacy
with his moft intimate friends, and the frequent vifits to
him which my love and gratitude exacted; enable me to
afſure your Lordſhip and the world, (as I do in the moſt
folemn and fincere manner) that nothing ever was more
falſe, than the informations you received upon this point;
and that in fact, females were rarely admitted into his
houſe; and never came thither but upon very particular
invitations, not excepting even Mrs. Johnfon. The truth
is, not one of thofe you are pleafed to call his Senators,
ever prefumed to approach him, till he very particularly
fignified his pleaſure that they should, except his near
kinfwoman, Mrs. Whiteway, who was often with him,
but not until the latter part of his life.
And yet, my Lord, as the honour I bear you ftrongly
inclines me to affent to your pofitions, wherever I can; I
must own, that if keeping a great number of profeffed
nominal miftreffes, conftitutes the complete idea of a Se-
raglio, Swift kept a greater, and a much more extended
one than the Grand Seignior. And I have had the ho-
nour to be admitted, more than once, to bear him com-
pany in his vifits to them. But this I muft add, in fup-
port of the credit of your judgment of his conftitution,
that his vifits were always by day-light; and for the moft
part, in the moſt open and public places of the City,
But yet truth obliges me to own, that he alfo vifited fome
of them in bye-allies, and under arches; places of long
fufpected fame. Let me add, that he kept ftrictly to that
Turkish principle, of honouring none, but fuch as were
bred up and occupied in fome employment. One of
thefe miftreffes fold plumbs; another, hob-nails; a third,
tapes; a fourth, gingerbread; a fifth, knitted; a fixth,
darned ſtockings; and a feventh, cobbled fhoes; and ſo
on, beyond my counting. And in all this detail of his
amours
DOCTOR SWIFT.
393
amours, I take upon me to fay, that the fingularity of his
taſte, was as remarkably diſtinguiſhed, as his genius
was, in any, or all of his compofitions. One of thefe
miftreffes wanted an eye; another, a nofe; a third, an
arm; a fourth, a foot; a fifth, had all the attractions.
of Agnas Polypus; and a fixth, more than all thoſe of
Æfop's hump; and all of them as old at leaſt as fome
of Louis the XIVth's miftreffes; and many of them
much older. He faluted them with all becoming kind-
nefs; aſked them how they did; how they throve;
what flock they had, &c.; and as miftreffes, all the
world owns, are expenfive things, it is certain he never
faw his, but to his coft. If any of their ware were
fuch as he could poffibly make ufe of, or pretend to
make ufe of, he always bought fome; and paid for
every half-pennyworth, at leaſt fix-pence, and for every
pennyworth, a fhilling. If their faleables were of an-
other nature, he added fomething to their stock; with
ftrict charges of induſtry and honefty. And I muſt
once more own, for truth exacts it of me, that theſe
miftreffes were very numerous; infomuch, that there
was fcarce one ftreet, or alley, or lane in Dublin, its
fuburbs, and its environs, that had not at leaſt one or
more of them. Some of theſe he named thus for dif-
tinction's fake, and partly for humour; Cancerina,
Stumpa-Nympha, Pullagowna, Futterilla, Flora, Stum-
pantha, &c. Pray, my Lord, are Horace's Pyrrhas
and Lydias to be named in a day with thefe? And yet
I cannot fay that any, or all of them, ever influenced
him, either in the compofition or publication of any
of his Poems; though I cannot tell whether they might
not have occafioned a very celebrated Love Epiftle,
from a blind man, to one of Swift's favourite mif-
treffes, called Stumpy, from the fame of her wooden
leg.
What
394
THE LIFE OF
What a glorious fcene is here difplayed of Swift's be-
neficence! to feek out objects in all quarters of the
town, from which the bulk of mankind turn with
loathing; to place them in a way of gaining an honeſt
livelihood, inftead of being publick nuifances in the
ftreet; to keep them ſteady in a courſe of induſtry, by
frequent vifits in fuch places as the faftidious rich would
difdain to enter; to fupply their wants when buſineſs
was flack, and encourage the fuccefsful by farther
bounties Theſe are inftances of fuch truly Chriſtian
Charity, as are rarely to be found. And after this ſhall
it be a doubt whether Swift had a heart fufceptible of
the foft feelings of humanity?
འཎྜབཀ
He had a fervant well known to all his friends by the
name of Saunders; an appellation given him by the
Dean He was remarkably kind to him during a
courſe of ſeveral years ſpent in his fervice; but more
particularly throughout a long illnefs, under which he
laboured for many months before he died. He had him
buried in the South aifle of his Cathedral, where he
erected a monument to him in a ſmall piece of ftatuary
marble, with this infcription.
Here lieth the Body of
ALEXANDER MAGEE, Servant to Doctor
SWIFT, Dean of St. Patrick's.
His grateful Mafter caufed this Monument to be
erected in Memory of his Difcretion, Fidelity,
and Diligence, in that humble Station.
Ub. Mar. 24, 1721, Etat. 29.
In the original draught, which I faw in the Dean's
own hand-writing, it ſtood thus:
His grateful Friend, and Maſter, &c.
A Gentle-
DOCTOR SWIFT.
395
A Gentleman of the Dean's acquaintance, much more
diftinguished for vanity than wifdom, prevailed upon
him to leave out the word friend, and only write his
grateful mafter; and this in contradiction to a known
maxim of his own." That an affectionate and faith-
ful fervant, fhould always be confidered in the charac-
ter of an humble friend." He performed the burial
fervice himſelf on the occafion, and in the courſe of it
was obſerved to fhed tears.
As he expected punctual, ready, and implicit obe-
dience, he always tried his fervants when he hired them
by fome teft of their humility. Among other quali-
ties, he always afked whether they underſtood cleaning
ſhoes, becauſe, ſaid he, my kitchen wench has a ſcul-
lion that does her drudgery, and one part of the bufi-
nefs of my groom and footman is conftantly to clean
her fhoes by turns: if they fcrupled this, their treaty
was at an end; if not, he gave them a farther hearing.
His kitchen wench, however, was his cook; a woman
of a large ſize, robuſt conſtitution, and coarfe features;
her face very much feamed with the ſmall-pox, and
furrowed by age; this woman he always diftinguished
by the name of Sweetheart.
It happened one day that Sweetheart greatly over
roafted the only joint he had, for dinner; upon which
he fent for her up, and with great coolnefs and gravity,
"Sweetheart," fays he,." take this down into the
kitchen, and do it lefs." She replied,
"that was im-
poffible." "Pray, then," faid he, "if you had roaſt-
ed it too little, could you not have done it more?"
"Yes, the faid, fhe could eafily have done that;
CC
Why then, Sweetheart, if you muſt commit a fault,
let me advife you to commit one that can be mended."
To the rest of the fervants, indeed, he appeared to
be churlish and auftere, but, in reality, was one of the
5
best
396
THE LIFE OF
1
beſt maſters in the world. He allowed them board
wages at the highest rate then known; and if he em-
ployed them about any thing out of the ordinary courſe
of their fervice, he always paid them to the full value
of their work, as he would have paid another. With
theſe emoluments, and the fragments from his table,
he expected they ſhould find themfelves in victuals,
and all other neceffaries, except the liveries which he
gave them. If in this fituation their expences were
greater than their income, it was judged a fufficient
reaſon to diſcharge them; but on the contrary, as foon
as they had faved a full year's wages, he conſtantly paid
them legal intereft for it, and took great pleaſure in
feeing it accumulate to a fum, which might fettle them
in fome employment if he ſhould die; or if they found
it advifeable to quit his fervice, which was feldom the
cafe; and he with whom his fervants live long, has un-
dubitable witneffes that he is a good mafter. Befide
the motives already affigned for withing to continue in
his fervice, their pride was highly gratified while they
remained in that ftation; it was thought an honour to
belong to the Dean in any ſhape; they had more reſpect
paid them by the people in general than is ufually
fhewn to any others of this fraternity; and the Dean's
plain livery was a badge of greater diftinction, than
that of the Lord Lieutenant's with all its finery.
He was one of the cleanlieft men in his perfon that
ever lived. His hands were not only wafhed, as thoſe
of other men, with the utmost care, but his nails were
conftantly kept pared to the quick, to guard againſt
the leaft appearance of a fpeck upon them. And as he
walked much, he rarely dreffed himſelf without a ba-
fon of water by his fide, in which he dipt a towel and
cleanfed his feet with the utmoſt exactnefs.
In company, he neither wrapped himſelf up in his
own importance, without deigning to communicate
his
DOCTOR SWIFT.
397
his knowledge, or exert his wit; nor did he engrofs
the converfation by perpetual and overbearing loqua-
city. His general rule was, never to ſpeak more than
a minute at a time, and then to wait at leaft as long for
others to take up the converfation; after which he had
a right to ſpeak again. His colloquial ftyle, like that
of his writings, was clear, forcible, and concife. He
alfo excelled greatly in telling a ftory; and though in
the latter part of his life he was apt to repeat his ftories
too often, yet his wit, as well as his virtue, was always
fuperior to the wretched expedients of thofe deſpicable
bablers, who are perpetually attempting to put off double
entendre and profanenefs, for humour and wit. His
converfation was in the highest degree chafte, and
wholly free from the leaft tincture of irreligion. As he
was zealous to preferve all the delicacies of converfa-
tion, he was always beft pleafed when fome of the com-
pany were Ladies; and in his letter to Lord Oxford,
he fays, fince women have been left out of all our
meetings, except parties of play, or where worſe de-
ſigns are carried on, our converfation has very much
degenerated. And in this inftance, his example is a
reproof to thoſe pedants, who fuppofe that women are
never in their proper fphere, but in the dreffing-room
or nursery.
The custom of Dublin in his time was, that the La-
dies fhould withdraw immediately after the first glais
had gone round; but he never permitted this either
when he had parties at home, or was invited to any
abroad; always infifting upon their ftaying till the
Gentlemen had nearly done with their wine; and then
after a decent allowance of time, they joined companies
again at tea and coffee, as is the cuſtom of France,
and paffed the remainder of the evening together. But
the Gentlemen at that time were too fond of the bottle,
and
?
398
THE LIFE OF
and of their own difcourfe over it, to fuffer that cuftom
to become general.
If the converfation turned upon ferious fubjects, he
was neither petulant in the debate, nor negligent of
the iffue. He would liften with great attention to the
arguments of others, and whether he was or was not
engaged as a difputant himſelf, he would recapitulate
what had been faid, ftate the queſtion with
great clear-
nefs and precifion, point out the controverted particu-
lar, and appeal to the opinion either of fome neutral
perfon, or of the majority.
Lord Orrery had faid of him, that he was open to
adulation, and could not, or would not, diftinguiſh be-
tween low flattery and just applaufe. From which
charge he has been defended by Doctor Delany, in the
following manner :
My Lord, the charge of Swift's delighting in low
adulation, has lain fo heavy upon my mind, that I have
revolved it with utmoſt attention for many hours, yet
can find no juft foundation for it. His heart was fo
thoroughly averfe from flattery, that he took all occa-
fions, not only to exprefs his utter contempt and deteſt-
ation of it, but alfo to diffuade others from it. How
it might have been with him in the decline of his un-
derſtanding, when he made hafty approaches to a fe-
cond childhood, I cannot fay; he might then poſſibly,
be fed by thofe about him, as children often are, with
plumbs and fweetmeats, inftead of falutary food.
In confirmation of the above account given by Doc-
tor Delany, I remember, when his Lordship's book
firft came out, to have read this paffage to Mrs. Sican,
an intimate friend of the Dean's; upon which fhe ex-
preffed herſelf thus: "I never yet knew any mortal
who durft flatter him except his Lordship himſelf."
Indeed the only way of paying court to him, was not
by
DOCTOR SWIFT.
399
by words, but a very refpectful behaviour towards him,
which he expected fo much, that moſt of his acquaint-
ance, except his intimate friends, ftood in fome degree
of awe before him. On the contrary, he was more
open to admonition than flattery, if it were offered
without arrogance, and by perfons of whofe ability and
candour he had no doubt. In his Poem of Baucis and
Philemon, which does not confift quite of two hundred
verfes, Swift himſelf related, that Mr. Addifon made
him blot out fourſcore, add fourſcore, and alter four-
fcore.
I remember a remarkable inftance of this kind, told
me by one of his Chapter, which deferves to be re-
corded as a uſeful leffon to fuch opinionated authors,
as cannot bear to be told of any faults in their Writings.
That Gentleman happened to vifit him at a time when
the Dean was about to fend a newly written Pamphlet
to the prefs; which he put into his friend's hands, de-
firing that he would point out freely any faults he
might find in it. The Gentleman ftuck at two paffa-
ges, and propofed an amendment of them; which
Swift inftantly complied with. When the work came
out, the Gentleman, upon a fecond reading, found he
had been wrong in his objections, and that the paffages
had been altered for the worſe. Upon his next vifit to
the Dean, he expreffed fome concern at this, and no
fmall degree of furprife, upon recollecting that the
other had fo readily acquiefced in the change, without
making the flighteft objection, though he muſt have
been conscious it was wrong. Sir, faid Swift, I
confidered that the paffages were of no great confe-
quence, and I made the alterations you defired with-
out heſitation, left, had I ftood up in their defence, you
might have imputed it to the vanity of an author un-
willing to hear of his errors; and by this ready com-
(C
pliance,
400
THE LIFE OF
៩
pliance, I hoped you would, at all times hereafter, be
the more free in your remarks." Though he had no
ſkill in mufic, nor ear for its beauties, yet he had fuffi-
cient for a moft ridiculous and droll imitation of it; of
which Doctor Delany gives the following inftance in a
fcene at which he was prefent one evening, together
with fome others of the Dean's friends.
Tom Rofeingrave was juft returned from Italy;
and Doctor Pratt, then Provoft of the College, who
was not long come back from the fame place, and was
far gone in the Italian tafte of mufick, had been that
morning at St. Patrick's, to hear him play a voluntary,
and was in high rapture in praiſe of it. Upon which
fome of the company wifhed they had been prefent to
have heard it. "Do you," faid Swift? Then you
fhall hear it ftill;" and immediately he fung out fo
lively, and yet fo ridiculous an imitation of it, that all
the company were kept in continual laughter till it was
over; except one old Gentleman, who fate with great
compoſure, and though he liftened, yet it ſeemed to
make little or no impreffion on him; and being asked
how he could hear fuch a fine piece of mufic without
being at all affected by it, made anfwer, "that he had
heard Mr. Rofeingrave himſelf play it before." An
anſwer which, it may well be imagined, did not leffen
the mirth.
Swift had a peculiar knack of conveying fine praiſe
under cover of very rough words. When Lord Car-
teret was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Swift happened
to have a little difpute with him about the grievances
that kingdom fuffered from England, and the folly,
nonſenſe, and injuftice of their government in that re-
fpect; for he fpared no hard words on that fubject. The
Lord Lieutenant replied with a maftery and ftrength of
reafoning, for which he was fo remarkable, and which
Swift
DOCTOR SWIFT.
401
Swift not well liking at that time, cried out in a vio-
lent paffion-"What the vengeance brought you among
us? Get you back-Get you back-Pray God Almighty
fend us our boobies again."
Being one day at a Sheriff's feaft, who, among other
toafts, called out to him, Mr. Dean, The Trade of
Ireland. He answered quick *,-Sir, I drink no memo-
ries.
He greatly admired the talents of the late Duke of
Wharton, as the Duke did his; who one day dining
with the Dean, and recounting feveral wild frolics he
had run through; "My Lord," faid Swift, "let me
recommend one more to you-Take a frolic to be good
-rely upon it, you will find it the pleasanteft frolic you
ever was engaged in t."
Happening to be in company with a petulant young
man, who prided himſelf in ſaying pert things to the
Dean, and at laſt getting up with fome conceited gefti-
culations, ſaid, with a confident air-" You muſt know,
Mr. Dean, I fet up for a Wit." "Do you fo," fays
the Dean," then take my advice, and fit down again."
Being one day at a Vifitation-dinner, a Clergyman,
who valued himself more upon his wit than he ought,
and often mistook a rough kind of abuſe for keen rail-
lery; took it into his head to exercife his talents upon
the Dean, and that very licentioufly. Swift fate with
all the compoſure of a deaf man, not feeming to hear
*To take the force of this anfwer, it is neceffary to obferve, that
it was made foon after Bishop Brown's book had come out againſt
Drinking the Memories of the Dead; which at that time made fome
noife.
+ Doctor Delany has wonderfully marred this tale in the telling, as
he has entirely miffed the point, concluding it thus-Take my word.
for it, that one will do you more honour, than all the other frolicks of
your life. To annex the idea of honour to frolicks, is nonfenfe; they
can only be confidered as pleafant.
D d
a word
402
THE LIFE OF
a word that he had faid, nor making any kind of an-
fwer. At length the Bifhop interpofed, and checked
the petulance of the Snarl; which was the name he
went by. The Dean immediately got up, and begged
that no restraint may be laid on the Gentleman-" Mo-
mus, my Lord, was always admitted to the feafts of the
Gods, and privileged to fay whatever he pleafed there."
From that time, instead of Snarl, the Gentleman was
called by no other name but that of Momus.
Sitting one evening with Mr. Addifon, the conver-
fation happened to turn upon the moft diftinguifhed
characters in the Hiftory of the Old Teftament; in
which, Swift preferred and fupported that of Jofeph;
and Addiſon that of Jonathan; and after they had ur-
ged their reaſons on both fides, with much zeal for a
confiderable time; Mr. Addifon filed, and faid, he
was glad no third perfon was witness to their difpute;
juft recollecting that he was afferting the hero of Swift's
name, Jonathan; and Swift the hero of his, Jofeph;
which might have been interpreted by a îtander-by, as
an intended compliment of each to the other.
A young Clergyman, the fon of a Biſhop in Ireland,
having married without the knowledge of his friends,
it gave umbrage to his family, and his father refuſed
to ſee him. The Dean being in company with him
fome time after, faid he would tell him a ftory. "When
I was a ſchool-boy at Kilkenny, and in the lower form,
I longed very much to have a horſe of my own to ride
on. One day I faw a poor man leading a very mangy
lean horfe out of the town to kill him for the fkin. I
afked the man if he would fell him, which he readily
confented to upon my offering him fomewhat more than
the price of the hide, which was all the money I had
in the world. I immediately got on him, to the great
envy of fome of my fchool-fellows, and to the ridicule
of
DOCTOR SWIFT.
403
of others, and rode him about the town. The horfe
foon tired and laid down. As I had no ftable to put
him into, nor any money to pay for his fuftenance, I
began to find out what a fooliſh bargain I had made,
and cried heartily for the lofs of my caſh; but the horſe
dying foon after upon the fpot, gave me fome relief."
To this the young Clergyman anfwered-" Sir, your
ſtory is very good, and applicable to my cafe; I own I
deferve fuch rebukes,"-and then burst into a flood of
tears. The Dean made no reply, but went the next
day to the Lord Lieutenant, and prevailed on him to
give the young Gentleman a finall living then vacant,
for his immediate fupport; and not long after brought
about a reconciliation between his father and him.
The following anecdote is given by Dr. Goldfmith,
in his Life of Parnell. The Scriblerus Club, when
the Members were in town, were feldom afunder, and
they often made excurfions together into the country,
and generally on foot. Swift was ufually the butt of
the company, and if a trick was played, he was always
the fufferer. The whole party once fet out to walk
down to the houfe of Lord B about twelve miles
B-
from town. As every one agreed to make the beſt of
his way, Swift, who was remarkable for walking, foon
left all the reft behind; fully refolved, upon his arrival,
to chooſe the very beft bed for himfelf, as was his cuf-
tom. In the mean time, Parnell was determined to
prevent his intentions; and taking horfe, arrived at
Lord B's by another way, long before him. Ha-
ving apprifed his Lordſhip of Swift's defign, it was re-
folved at any rate to keep him out of the houfe; but
how to do this, was the queſtion. Swift never had the
fmall-pox, and was much afraid of catching it; as
foon, therefore, as he appeared ftriding along at fome
diſtance from the houfe, one of his Lordship's fervants.
D d 2
was
X
THE LIFE OF
404
was diſpatched, to inform him that the finall-pox was
then making great ravage in the family; but that there
was a fummer-houfe at the end of the garden, with a
field-bed at his fervice. There the difappointed Dean
was obliged to retire, and take a cold fupper that was
fent him, while the reft were feafting within. How-
ever at laſt they took compaffion on him; and upon
his promifing never to chooſe the beſt bed again, they
permitted him to make one of the company.
During his laft deplorable ftate, the following cir-
cumſtances are all that are recorded. In the begin-
ning of the year 1741, his underſtanding was fo much
impaired, and his paffions fo greatly increafed, that he
was utterly incapable of converfation. Strangers were
not permitted to approach him, and his friends found
it neceffary to have guardians appointed of his perfon
and eſtate. Early in the year 1742, his reaſon was.
wholly fubverted, and his rage became abfolute mad-
nefs. The laft perfon whom he knew, was Mrs.
Whiteway; and the fight of her, when he knew her no
longer, threw him into fits of rage fo violent and
dreadful, that fhe was forced to leave him; and the
only act of kindnefs that remained in her power, was
to call once or twice a week at the Deanery, inquire
after his health, and fee that proper care was taken of
him. Sometimes he would ſteal a look at him when
his back was towards her, but did not dare to venture
into his fight. He would neither eat nor drink while
the fervant who brought him his provifions ftayed in
the room. His meat, which was ferved up ready cut,
he would fometimes fuffer to ftand an hour upon the
table before he would touch it; and at laſt he would
eat it walking; for during this miferable ftate of his
mind, it was his conftant cuftom to walk ten hours a
day,
In
DOCTOR SWIFT.
405
In October 1742, after this phrenzy had continued
feveral months, his left eye fwelled to the fize of an
egg, and the lid appeared to be ſo much inflamed and
difcoloured, that the furgeon expected it would mor-
tify; feveral large boils alfo broke out on his arms and
his body. The extreme pain of this tumour kept him
waking near a month, and during one week it was with
difficulty that five perfons kept him, by mere force,
from tearing out his eyes. Just before the tumour per-
fectly fubfided, and the pain left him, he knew Mrs.
Whiteway, took her by the hand, and fpoke to her with
his former kindneſs: that day, and the following, he
knew his phyſician and furgeon, and all his family, and
appeared to have fo far recovered his underſtanding and
temper, that the furgeon was not without hopes he
might once more enjoy fociety, and be amufed with
the company of his old friends. This hope, how-
ever, was but of fhort duration; for, a few days after-
wards, he funk into a ſtate of total infenfibility, flept
much, and could not, without great difficulty, be pre-
vailed on to walk across the room. This was the effect
of another bodily difeafe, his brain being loaded with
water. Mr. Stevens, an ingenious Clergyman of his
Chapter, pronounced this to be the cafe during his ill-
nefs, and upon opening his head it appeared that he
was not miftaken: but though he often intreated the
Dean's friends and phyficians that his fkull might be
trepanned and the water difcharged, no regard was paid
to his opinion or advice.
After the Dean had continued filent a whole year in
this helpleſs ſtate of idiocy, his houiekeeper went into
his room on the 30th of November in the morning,
telling him that it was his birth-day, and that bonfires
and illuminations were preparing to celebrate it as
ufual; to this he immediately replied-" It is all folly,
they had better let it alone."
D d 3
Some
406
THE LIFE OF
Some other inftances of fhort intervals of fenfibility
and reaſon, after his madnefs had ended in ftupor, feem
to prove that his diforder, whatever it was, had not de-
ftroyed, but only fufpended the powers of his mind.
He was fometimes vifited by Mr. Deane Swift, a re-
lation, and about Chriſtmas, 1743, he ſeemed defirous
to ſpeak to him. Mr. Swift then told him he came to
dine with him; and Mrs. Ridgeway the houſekeeper
immediately ſaid, "Won't you give Mr. Swift a glaſs
of wine, Sir?" To this he made no answer, but fhewed
he understood the queſtion, by fhrugging up his fhoulders
as he had been uſed to do when he had a mind a friend
fhould ſpend the evening with him, and which was as
much as to fay, "You will ruin me in wine." Soon
after he again endeavoured, with a good deal of pain,
to find words; but at laft, after many efforts, not be-
ing able, he fetched a deep figh, and was afterwards.
filent. A few months after this, upon his houfekeeper's
removing a knife, as he was going to catch at it, he
fhrugged up his fhoulders, and faid, "I am what I am;"
and, in about fix minutes, repeated the fame words
two or three times.
In the year 1744, he now and then called his fervant
by his name, and once attempting to speak to him, but
not being able to exprefs his meaning, he fhewed figns
of much uneafinefs, and at laft faid, "I am a fool."
Once afterwards, as his fervant was taking away his
watch, he faid, "bring it here ;" and when the fame
fervant was breaking a hard large coal, he faid, "that
is a ſtone, you blockhead."
From this time he was perfectly filent till the latter
end of October, 1745, and then died without the leaſt
pang or convulfion, in the feventy-eighth year of his
age.
Some
DOCTOR SWIFT.
407
Some PARTICULARS concerning Dr. SWIFT. Taken
from Mrs. Pilkington's Memoirs.
MR
RS. PILKINGTON's acquaintance with Dr. Swift
commenced from fending him fome Verfes on
his Birth-day. Theſe the Dean received very kindly,
and faid, he would fee her whenever he pleaſed.
A few days after, fhe was introduced to the Dean in
Dr. Delany's garden at Delville, by a gentlewoman.
He faluted her, and aſked the Lady, if he was her
daughter? The Lady fimiled, and faid, fhe was Mrs.
Pilkington. "What," fays he, "this poor little child
married! married! Gold help her, fhe is very early
engaged in trouble." The Dean engaging Mr. Pil-
kington to preach for him at the Cathedral next Sun-
day in St. Patrick's Church, Mrs. Pilkington was
charmed to fee with what a becoming piety the Dean
performed that Holy Service, which he had fo much
at heart, that he wanted not the affiftance of the Li-
turgy, but went quite through it, without ever looking
in the book. He bowed at the table; which behaviour
was cenfured, as favouring of Popery. But this cir-
cumſtance may vindicate him from the wicked afper-
fion of being deemed an unbeliever, fince it is plain
he had the utmoſt reverence for the Eucharift. Service
being ended, the Dean was furrounded at the Church-
door, by a crowd of poor; to all of whom he gave
charity, except an old woman, who held out a very
dirty hand to him. He told her very gravely, that
though ſhe was a beggar, water was not fo fcarce but
fhe might have washed her hands. When they came
to the Deanery, the Dean very kindly faluted Mrs.
Pilkington, and without allowing her time to fit down,
D d 4
bad
408
THE LIFE OF
bad her come and fee his library; but merrily told Mr.
Pilkington, who was for following them, that he did
not defire his company.
"Well," faid he to her, "I
have brought you here to fhew you all the money I got
when I was in the Miniftry; but don't fteal any of it."
"I will not indeed, Sir," faid fhe. So opening a ca-
binet, he fhewed her a parcel of empty drawers:
"Bleſs me," fays he, "the money is flown." He
then opened his bureau, wherein he had a great num-
ber of curious trinkets of various kinds, fome of which
were prefented to him by the Earl and Countefs of Ox-
ford, Lady Maſham, and Lady Betty Germaine.
laft coming to a drawer filled with medals, he bade her
chooſe two for herfelf; but he could not help fmiling,
when he began to poize them in her hands, choofing
them by weight rather than antiquity.
At
At dinner the Dean's behaviour was very humourous.
He placed himfelf at the head of his table, oppofite
to a great pier glafs, fo that he could fee in the glafs
whatever the fervants did behind him. He was ferved
entirely in plate, with great elegance, but the beef be-
ing over-roafted, put the company all in confufion.
The Dean called for the cook-maid, and ordered her
to take the beef down ftairs, and do it lefs. She an-
fwered very innocently, that he could not.
"Why,
what fort of a creature are you," fays he, "to commit
a fault which cannot be amended?" And turning to
Mrs. Pilkington, he faid very gravely, "That he ho-
ped, as the cook was a woman of genius, he fhould,
by this manner of arguing, be able, in about a year's
time, to convince her fhe had better fend up the meat
too little than too much done;" charging the men-
fervants, whenever they imagined the meat was ready,
they ſhould take it, fpit and all, and bring it up by
force, promifing to aid them in cafe the cook reſiſted,
Having
DOCTOR SWIFT.
409
Having afked Mr. and Mrs. Pilkington if they could
fimoke? and being anfwered, that they did not; "It
is a fign," faid he, "you were neither of you bred in
the Univerſity of Oxford; for drinking and fioking
are the first rudiments of learning taught there; and
in thoſe two arts no University in Europe can outdo
them." Having aſked Mrs. Pilkington if ſhe had any
faults? "Pray, Mr. Dean," faid Dr. Delany, "why
will you be fo unpolite as to fuppofe Mrs. Pilkington
has any faults?" "I'll tell you," replied the Dean;
"whenever I fee a number of agreeable qualities in
any perſon, I am always fure they have bad ones fuffi-
cient to poize the fcale." Mrs. Pilkington bowed, and
told him, he did her great honour; in that copying
Bishop Berkeley, whom he had frequently heard de-
clare, that when any fpeech was made to him, which
might be conftrued either into a compliment or an af-
front, or that had two handles, he always took hold of
the beſt.
cr
(C
>
The Dean then aſked Mrs. Pilkington, if he were a
Queen, what ſhe would chooſe to have after dinner?
She answered, your converſation, Sir." "Pooh,
"faid he, "I mean, what regale." "A difn of cof-
fee, Sir," anſwered fhe. Why then," faid he, "I
will fo far make you as happy as a Queen; you fhall
have ſome in perfection: for, when I was Chaplain to
the Earl of Berkeley, who was in the government here,
I was fo poor, I was obliged to keep a coffee houſe,
and all the Nobility reforted to it to talk treafon." The
Dean then fet about making the coffee: but the fire
fcorching his hand, he called to Mrs. Pilkington to
reach him his glove; and changing the coffee-pot to
his left hand, held out his right one, ordering her to
put the glove on it; which accordingly fhe did; when
taking up part of his gown to fan himſelf with, and
acting
410
THE LIFE OF
acting in character of a prudiſh Lady, he ſaid,
" Well,
I don't know what to think; women may be honeft
that do fuch things; but, for my part, I never could
bear to touch any man's fleſh-except my huſband's;
whom, perhaps," (faid he), " fhe wifhed at the Devil."
"Mr. Pilkington," faid he, "you would not tell
me your wife's faults; but I have found her out to be
a d-n'd infolent, proud, unmannerly flut." "What
hath the done now?" faid Mr. Pilkington.
"Done,"
faid the Dean; "why nothing but fat there quietly,
and never once offered to interrupt me in making the
coffee; whereas a Lady of modern good breeding would
have ſtruggled with me for the coffee-pot, until he had
made me fcald myſelf and her, and made me throw the
coffee in the fire, or perhaps at her head, rather than
permit me to take fo much trouble for her."
Mrs. Pilkington ftaid at home with the Dean during
the time of the afternoon's fervice; and he made her
read his Hiſtory of the laſt Seffion of Parliament, and
the Peace of Utrecht, written at Windfor in 1713, aſk-
ing her at the conclufion of every period, whether the
underſtood it? "for I would," faid he, "have it in-
telligible to the meaneft capacity; and, if you com-
prehend it, it is poffible every body may."
She accompanied the Dean to Evening prayer; and
on their return to the Deanery, he told Mr. and Mrs.
Pilkington, that he gave them leave to ftay to fupper;
which from him was a fufficient invitation. The Dean
then decanted a bottle of wine; and the laſt glaſs be-
ing muddy, he called to Mr. Pilkington to drink it;
"for," faid he, "I always keep fome poor parfon to
drink the foul wine for me." Mr. Pilkington entering
into his humour, thanked him, and told him, he did
not know the difference, but was glad to get a glaſs of
wine at any rate. Why then," faid the Dean, " you
fhan't;
5
"C
DOCTOR
411
SWIFT.
thant, for I'll drink it myſelf. Why p-x take you,
you are wiser than a paltry Curate whom I aſked to
dine with me a few days ago; for, upon my making
the fame ſpeech to him, he told me he did not under-
ftand fuch ufage; and fo walked off without his din-
ner. By the fame token, I told the gentleman who re-
commended him to me, that the fellow was a block-
head, and I had done with him."
The Dean then miffing his golden bottle-fcrew, told
Mrs. Pilkington very fternly, he was fure fhe had ſtolen
it. She affirmed very feriously, fhe had not. Upon
which he looked for it, and found it where he himſelf
had laid it: "It is well for you," ſaid he, "that I
have got it, or I would have charged you with theft."
Why, pray, Sir," ſaid fhe,
more than any other perfon in
very good reaſon," ſaid he,
pooreft."
(C
"ſhould I be ſuſpected
the company?" "For a
"becauſe you are the
At their going away, the Dean handed Mrs. Pil-
kington down all the ſteps to the coach, thanking them
for the honour of their company, at the fame time
flipping into her hand as much money as Mr. Pilking-
ton and ſhe had given at the offering in the morning,
and coach-hire allo; which she durft not refuſe, left
fhe fhould have been deemed as great a blockhead as
the parfon who refuſed thick wine.
In one of the Dean's periodical fits of deafnefs, he
fent for Mrs. Pilkington; who having come, he brought
out a large book, finely bound in Turkey leather, and
handſomely gilt: "This," faid he, "is the Tranfla-
tion of the Epiftles of Horace, a prefent to me from
the Author; it is a fpecial good cover; but I have a
mind there should be fomething valuable within fide
of it." So, taking out his pen-knife, he cut out all
the leaves clofe to the inner margin. "Now," faid
be,
412
THE LIFE OF
'
he, "I will give thefe what they greatly want;" and
put them all into the fire. "Your taſk, Madam, is
to paſte in thefe letters, in this cover, in the order I
fhall give them to you: I intended to do it myfelf, but
that I thought it might be a pretty amufement for a
child; fo I fent for you." She told him, he was ex-
tremely proud to be honoured with his commands;
but requeſted to have leave to read the letters as the
went on. "Why," faid the Dean, "provided you
will acknowledge yourfelf amply rewarded for your
trouble, I do not much care if I indulge you fo far."
In reading the letters, fhe could not avoid remark-
ing to the Dean, that notwithstanding the friendship
Mr. Pope profeffed for Mr. Gay, he could not forbear
a great many fatirical, or, if ſhe might be allowed to
fay fo, envious remarks on the fuccefs of the Beggar's
Opera *. The Dean very frankly owned, he did not
think Mr. Pope was fo candid to the merit of other
Writers as he ought to be. She then ventured to aſk
the Dean, whether he thought the lines Mr. Pope ad-
dreffed him with in the beginning of the Dunciad,
were any compliment to him? viz.
O thou! whatever title pleaſe thine ear.
"I believe," faid he,
but they are very ſtiff."
፡፡
they were meant as fuch,
"Indeed, Sir," faid fhe, he
is fo perfectly a mafter of harmonious numbers, that
had his heart been the leaſt affected with his fubject, he
muſt have writ better. How cold, how forced, are his
lines to you, compared with your's to him!
Hail, happy Pope! whofe generous mind, &c.
*All this account of Pope, and his letters relative to Gay, is pure
invention, he had refuſed to give any countenance to this abandoned
woman in the fabicption for her Poems, and this was the method fhe
took of avenging herſelf,
Here
DOCTOR SWIFT.
413
Here we ſee the maſterly Poet, and the warm, ſincere,
generous friend; while he, according to the character
he gives of Mr. Addifon, damns with faint praife.-
(6
Well," replied the Dean, "I'll fhew you a late letter
of his." He did fo; and Mrs. Pilkington was fur-
prifed to find it filled with low and un-gentleman-like
reflections, both on Mr. Gay, and the two noble per-
fons who honoured him with their patronage after his
diſappointment at Court. "Well, Madam," ſaid the
Dean, "what do you think of that letter?" (feeing the
had gone quite through it.) Indeed, Sir," replied
fhe, "I am forry I have read it; for it gives me reafon
to think there is no fuch thing as a fincere friend to be
met with in the world."-" Why," replied he, "Au-
thors are as jealous of their prerogative as Kings; and
can no more bear a rival in the empire of wit, than a
Monarch could in his dominions." Mrs. Filkington
then obferving a Latin fentence writ in Italics, defired
the Dean to explain it. "No," replied he, fmiling,
"I'll leave that for your hufband to do. I'll fend for
him to dine with us, and in the mean time we'll go and
take a walk in Naboth's Vineyard."-" Where may
that be, Sir?" faid fhe. Why, a garden,” ſaid the
Dean, "I cheated one of my neighbours out of."
When they entered the garden, or rather the field,
which was fquare, and encloſed with a ftone wall, the
Dean aſked her, how fhe liked it?" Why, pray, Sir,"
faid the, "where is the garden ?" "Look behind you,'
faid he. She did fo; and obferved the South wall was
lined with brick, and a great number of fruit-trees
planted against it, which being then in bloffom, look-
ed very beautiful.
"What are you fo intent on?"
faid the Dean. "The opening bloom," replied fhe;
which brought Waller's lines to her remembrance,
Hope waits upon the flow'ry Prime.
"Oh !"
414
THE LIFE OF
"Oh!" replied he, "you are in a poetical vein; I
thought you had been taking notice of my wall. It is
the beſt in Ireland. When the mafons were building
it, (as moſt tradefmen are rogues), I watched them
very clofe, and as often as they could, they put in a
rotten ftone; of which however I took no notice, un-
til they had built three or four perches beyond it.
Now, as I am an abfolute Monarch in the Liberties,
and King of the Rabble, my way with them was, to
have the wall thrown down to the place where I obfer-
ved the rotten ſtone; and, by doing ſo five or fix times,
the workmen were at laft convinced it was their intereft
to be honeft:"-" or elfe, Sir," faid Mrs. Pilkington,
your
wall would have been as tedious a piece of
work as Penelope's web, if all that was done in the day
was to be undone at night." Well," anſwered the
Dean, "I find you have poetry for every occafion; but
as you cannot keep pace with me in walking, I would
have you fit down on that little bank, 'till you are
refted, or I tired, to put us more upon a par.
>>
(C
She feated herſelf, and away the Dean walked, or
rather trotted as hard as ever he could drive. She
could not help fmiling at his odd gait; for fhe thought
to herſelf, he had written fo much in praife of horſes,
that he was refolved to imitate them as nearly as he
could. As fhe was indulging this fancy, the Dean re-
turned to her, and gave her a ftrong confirmation of
his partiality to thofe animals. "I have been confider-
ing, Madam, as I walked," faid he, "what a fool Mr.
Pilkington was to marry you; for he could have af-
forded to keep a horfe for lefs money than you coſt
him; and that you must confefs, would have given
him better exercife and more pleafure than a wife-
Why, you laugh, and don't answer me-is it not
truth?"-" I muſt anſwer you, Sir" replied the, "with
another
DOCTOR SWIFT.
415
another queſtion: Pray how can a batchelor judge of
this matter?" I find," faid he, "you are vain enough
to give yourſelf the preference." "I do, Sir," re-
plied fhe, "to that fpecies here; to a Houynham I
would, as becomes me, give preference. But, Sir, it
is going to rain."--" I hope not," faid he, "for that
will coft me fix-pence for a coach for you," (the garden
being at fome diftance from the houfe.)
“Come,
hafte; O how the tefter trembles in my pocket!" She
obeyed; and they got home juft time enough to eſcape
a heavy ſhower. "Thank God," faid the Dean, "I
have faved my money. Here, you fellow, (to the fer-
vant) carry this fix-pence to the lame old man that fells
gingerbread at the corner, becauſe he tries to do fome-
thing, and does not beg."
Mrs. Pilkington was fhewed into a little ſtreet-par-
lour, in which was Mrs. Brent, his houfe-keeper.
"Here," fays he, "Mrs. Brent, take care of this
child, while I take my walk out within doors." The
Dean then ran up the great ftairs, down one pair of
back-ſtairs, up another, in fo violent a manner, that
Mrs. Pilkington could not help expreffing her uneafi-
nefs to Mrs. Brent, left he ſhould fall and be hurted.
Mrs. Brent faid, it was a cuſtomary exerciſe with him,
when the weather did not permit him to walk abroad.
Mrs. Brent then told Mrs. Pilkington of the Dean's
charity; of his giving about half of his yearly income
in private penfions to decayed families; and keeping
five hundred pounds in the conftant fervice of induf-
trious poor, which he lent out five pounds at a time,
and took the payment back at two fhillings a-week ;
which, fhe obferved, did them more fervice than if he
gave it to them entirely, as it obliged them to work,
and at the fame time kept up this charitable fund for
the affiftance of many. "You cannot imagine," faid
fhe,
416
OF
THE LIFE
fhe, what numbers of poor tradefmen, who have ever
wanted proper tools to carry on their work, have, by
this ſmall loan, been put into a profperous way, and
brought up their families in credit. The Dean," added
fhe, "hath found out a new method of being chari-
table, in which, however, I believe, he will have but
few followers, which is, to debar himſelf of what he
calls fuperfluities of life, in order to adminifter to the
neceffities of the diftreffed. You juft now faw an in-
ftance of it; the money a coach would have coſt him,
he gave to a poor man unable to walk. When he dines
alone, he drinks a pint of beer, and gives away the
price of a pint of wine. And thus he acts in number-
lefs inftances."
The Dean came to dine with Mr. and Mrs. Pilking-
ton at the Lilliputian Palace, as he called it; and who
could have thought it? He juft looked into the parlour,
and ran up into the garret, then into Mrs. Pilkington's
bed-chamber and library, and from thence down to
the kitchen; and the houſe being very clean, he com-
plimented her upon it, and told her, that was his cuf-
tom; and that it was from the cleanliness of the garret
and kitchen, he judged of the good houſewifery of
the miſtreſs of the houfe; for no doubt but a flut may
have the room clean where the gueſts are to be enter
tained.
He was fometimes very free, even to his fuperiors;
of which the following ftory, related to Mrs. Pilking-
ton by himſelf, may ferve as one inftance amongſt a
thousand others.
The laſt time he was in London, he went to dine
with the Earl of Burlington, who was then but newly
married. The Earl being willing, 'tis fuppofed, to
have fome diverfion, did not introduce him to his Lady,
nor mention his name. After dinner, faid the Deap,
"Lady
DOCTOR SWIFT:
417
"Lady Burlington, I hear you can fing; fing me a
fong." The Lady looked on this unceremonious man-
ner of aſking a favour with diftafte, and pofitively re-
fuſed him. He faid, fhe fhould fing, or he would
make her. 66
Why, Madam, I fuppofe you take me
for one of your poor Engliſh hedge parfons; fing when
I bid you." As the Earl did nothing but laugh at this
freedom, the Lady was fo vexed, that the burst into
tears, and retired.
His first compliment to her when he faw her again,
was, "Pray, Madam, are you as proud and as ill-na-
tured now, as when I faw you laft?" To which ſhe an-
fwered with great good humour, "No, Mr. Dean; I'll
fing for
you, if
if you pleaſe." From which time he con-
ceived great efteem for her. But who that knew him
would take offence at his bluntnefs?
He was a perpetual friend to merit and learning;
and utterly incapable of envy; for in true genuine wit,
he could fear no rival.
It has been often obſerved, that where great talents
are beſtowed, there the ſtrongeſt paffions are likewife
given. This great man fometimes let them have do-
minion over him, and that on trifling occafions, eſpe-
cially at meal-times: however, when the cloth was ta-
ken away, he made his gueſts rich amends for any pain
he had given them. For then,
Was truly mingled in the friendly bowl,
The feaſt of reafon, and the flow of foul.
POPE.
Yet he preſerved ftrict temperance: for he never drank
above half a pint of wine, in every glaſs of which he
mixed water and ſugar: yet, if he liked his com-
pany, would fit many hours over it, unlocking all the
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་་
418
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fprings of policy, learning, true humour, and inimi-
table wit.
The following ftory the Dean told to Mrs. Pilking-
ton.
**
>
A Clergyman who was a moft learned fine gentle-
man, but, under the fofteft and politeft appearance,
concealed the moft turbulent ambition, having made
his merit as a preacher too eminent to be overlooked,
had it early rewarded with a mitre. Dr. Swift went to
congratulate him on it; but told him, he hoped, as his
Lordship was a native of Ireland, and had now a feat
in the House of Peers, he would employ his powerful
elocution in the fervice of his diftreffed country. The
Prelate told him, the Bifhoprick was but a very fmall
one, and he could not hope for a better, if he did not
oblige the Court.
Very well," fays Swift, "then it
is to be hoped, when you have a better, you will be-
come an honest man." Aye, that I will, Mr. Dean,"
fays he.
"Till then, my Lord, farewell," anfwered
Swift. This Prelate was twice tranflated to richer
Sees; and, on every tranflation, Dr. Swift waited on
him to remind him of his promife; but to no pur-
pofe; there was now an Archbishoprick in view, and
till that was obtained, nothing could be done. Ha-
ving in a fhort time likewife got this, he then waited
on the Dean, and told him, "I am now at the top of
my preferment; for I well know that no Irishman will
ever be made Primate; therefore as I can rife no higher
in fortune or ftation, I will zealously promote the good
of my country." And from that time became a moſt
zealous Patriot.
(
* Dr. Theophilus Bolton, promoted to the Bishoprick of Clonfert,
tranflated from thence to Elphin, and afterwards to the Archbishoprick
of Cafhell.
CON
DOCTOR SWIFT.
419
CONCLUS 10 N.
FROM the foregoing Memoirs may be drawn the
true character of Swift; not on the flender ground of
opinion, but the folid foundation of facts.
He was, from his earlieſt days, as he defcribes him-
felf in one of his poems,
Addicted to no fort of vice.
Wine, women, and gaming, the three great feducers
of youth, had never the leaft influence over him. He
has been often heard to fay, that he never was drunk in
his life there have been ftrong reafons affigned for fup-
poſing that he never had any criminal commerce with
the fair fex and though for a fhort time, during his
reſidence in London, he fell in with the faſhion of play-
ing for trifles, yet he wholly left it off when he ap-
peared in Ireland in the character of the Dean of St.
Patrick's.
Virtus eft vitium fugere-
is an old adage; and the bofom that is free from Vice,
is finely prepared for the reception of Virtue. The foil
in which no weeds fprout up, will reward the cultivator
with plenteous crops of ufeful grain. Accordingly we
find, from his firft appearance in the world, he was pof-
feffed of three of the Cardinal Virtues, Juftice, Tem-
perance, and Fortitude, in an eminent degree. His
prudence, indeed, with regard to worldly views, might
often be called in queftion; and fometimes he might be
hurried away from liftening to her fober dictates, by the
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impetuofity of a warm imagination, or allured by the
ſportiveneſs of fancy: yet on all important occafions,
he fhewed that he had no common fhare of that virtue,
fo neceffary to the right direction of all the others. In
the practice of thefe higher virtues, did he conſtantly
live, even with a floical feverity; and none of the great
characters of antiquity, were, on that account, more
entitled to our esteem and admiration.
We
But to conciliate the good-will and love of mankind,
qualities of a gentler fort are neceffary, the virtues of
humanity; fuch as friendſhip, liberality, charity, good-
nature, &c. all which he was known to poffefs in a high
degree by his intimate friends, though an oppoſite cha-
racter of him prevailed in the world. I have already
accounted for this in the Preface, from a peculiar caft
of his mind, which made him not only conceal thefe
qualities from the public eye, but often difguife them
under the appearance of their contraries. I fhall now
fhew how this peculiarity firft grew upon him.
have already feen during what a length of years his
proud ſpirit groaned under a ftate of dependance on
his relations for a fcanty and precarious fupport. Up-
on enquiring into the hiftory of his progenitors, he
found that his grandfather had been reduced from a
ftate of affluence, to extreme poverty, by the moſt
cruel perfecution of the Fanatics in the time of Crom-
well. To this he imputed all his own fufferings, as
well as thofe of his family; which fixed fuch a rooted
hatred in him to them and their principles, as he took
every opportunity of manifefting by his writings, when-
ever occaſion offered, during the whole courſe of his
life. This it was which gave him fuch a deteſtation of
hypocrify, a vice generally laid to their charge, as to
make him run into the oppofite extreme. In which re-
fpe&t he was certainly highly blameable, as he was him-
felf
DOCTOR SWIFT.
421
ſelf a teacher of that religion, which enjoins its pro-
feffors to Let their light ſo ſhine before men, that they
might fee their good works, &c. Especially as he ftood
in fo confpicuous a point of view, from the fuperiority
of his talents, that his example might have been of the
greateſt benefit, towards fupporting the caufe of reli-
gion and virtue; as, on the other hand, infidelity and
vice gloried not a little, on the fuppofed enliftment of
fo great a name under their banner. It was this
ſtrangely affumed character, this new fpecies of hypo-
crify reverfed, as Lord Bolingbroke juftly termed it,
which prevented his appearing in that amiable light,
to which he was entitled from the benevolence of his
heart, except to a chofen few. In his friendships he
was warm, zealous, conftant: and perhaps no man
ever contracted fuch a number with fo judicious and
happy a ſelection. We find him every where extolled
for his pre-eminence in this firſt and rareſt of virtues,
by his numerous correfpondents; among whom were
many the moſt diftinguished of that age for talents and
worth. Mr. Pope, in his Preface to Homer, acknow-
ledges in the ſtrongeſt terms his obligation to him for
his uncommon zeal in promoting the fubfcription to
that work and well he might, as there is good reaſon
to believe that the fum procured by his folicitation was
not less than a thoufand pounds. We have feen with
what ardour he engaged in a fimilar office for his friend
Prior; for though he had at that time little intereft in
Ireland, yet, by the utmost exertion of that little, he
remitted to him between two and three hundred pounds,
collected by him for fubfcriptions to his Works; as ap-
pears by receipts in my poffeffion. Many inftances of
a fimilar kind have been cafually brought to light, in
ſpite of his endeavours to conceal them. His con-
ftancy in friendſhip was fuch, that he was never known
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to break any connection of that fort, till his faculties
were impaired in the decline of life, except in the cafe.
of Steele; wherein he was perfectly juftified from the
ingratitude and infolence of his behaviour towards him.
Indeed his notions of friendſhip were fo exalted, that
he wifhed it might not be confined to the preſent life;
for he fays in one of his letters to Pope," I have
often wished that God Almighty would be fo eafy to
the weakness of mankind, as to let old friends be ac-
quainted in another ftate; and if I were to write a
Utopia for Heaven, that would be one of my fchemes."
To his good-nature and tenderness of heart, many
teftimonies have been given by thofe who beft knew
him, in the feveral quotations already made from the
letters of Addifon, Pope, Arbuthnot, Gay, and many
others. Addifon in particular fays, that he honoured
him more for that one good quality, than all his more
fhining talents. Captain Charlton, in his letter to him,
fays, "I am fenfible how intruding it may appear in
me to trouble you with what I think; but you have an
unlucky quality, which expofes you to the forwardness
of thoſe that love you; I mean good-nature. From
which, though I did not always fufpect you guilty of it, I
now promife myſelf an eafy pardon." I have here
quoted this paffage, the rather, becauſe the latter part
of it is a confirmation of what I have advanced with
regard to the pains he took to hide thofe good qualities
he poffeffed, which were difcoverable only on a clofer
intimacy. But as the quality of good nature is that
part of his character leaſt likely to gain credit, on ac-
count of the general prevalence of the contrary opi-
nion, I fhall here enumerate fome of the more striking
inftances of his great fenfibility and tendernefs of heart,
which have been difperfed in different parts of this
Work. Of this the moſt unequivocal proofs have been
given
DOCTOR SWIFT.
423
given in his letters to Stella, giving an account of the
ftabbing of Mr. Harley by Guifcard: in his behaviour
to the Duchefs of Hamilton, on the fatal event of her
Lord's death in his affecting account of the illness and
death of poor Harrifon: in his weeping at the funeral
of his fervant Magee: in his bursting into tears upon
feeing the furniture taken down in Dr. Sheridan's par-
lour previous to his removal into the country: in all
his letters to the Doctor when Stella's life was deſpaired
of: and in all the tender expreflions of the warmeſt af-
fection difperfed throughout his Journal to Stella,
which are manifeftly the effufions of a moft feeling
heart. Many more inftances, were it neceffary, might
be adduced to the fame effect, but I fhall add only
one, from an authority which cannot be doubted; I
mean Miſs Vanhomrigh's. Who, in the midſt of that
bitterneſs of foul occafioned by his great neglect of
her, begins one of her letters in the following man-
ner. "Believe me it is with the utmoſt regret that I
now complain to you, because I know your good nature
fuch, that you cannot fee any human creature miferable,
without being fenfibly touched.
Nor was it in thefe articles only that the world were
fo miftaken in his character; from the fame caufe pro-
ceeded many other charges againft him, all equally ill
founded. He has been reprefented as a man of great
ambition, pride, avarice, and mifanthropy. Now t
us fee what foundation there was for any of thefe charges.
And first as to ambition.
This is generally confidered as fo powerful a paffion,
that it impels thofe who are under its dominion, to feek
its gratification by all means, juft or unjuft. From
this fpecies of ambition, never mortal was more free
than Swift. How little he was inclined to make uſe
even of the common allowable modes of rifing in the
world,
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world, or to gain preferment by any folicitation on his
part, may be feen by the following extracts from his
letters to the Archbishop of Dublin, written`at a time
when he was in the higheit favour with the people then
in power.
"I humbly thank your Grace for the good
opinion you are pleaſed to have of me, and for your ad-
vice, which feemeth to be wholly grounded on it. As
to the firſt which relateth to my fortune, I ſhall never
be able to make myfelf believed how indifferent I am
about it. I fometimes have the pleaſure of making
that of others, and I fear it is too great a pleaſure to
be a virtue, at leaſt in me. It is my maxim to
leave great Minifters to do as they pleaſe; and if I can-
not diftinguiſh myfelf enough, by being ufeful in fuch
a way, as becometh a man of confcience and honour,
I can do no more; for I never will folicit for myfelf,
though I often do for others." And in another place
he fays, "I know nothing of promifes of any thing in-
tended for myfelf, but, I thank God, I am not very
warm in my expectations, and know Courts too well,
to be ſurpriſed at difappointments; which, however,
I ſhould have no great reafon to fear, if I gave my
thoughts any trouble that way; which, without affecta-
tion, I do not, although I cannot expect to be believed
when I fay fo?"
Governed as he was by fuch maxims as thefe, is
there any one at all acquainted with the world, who
could fuppofe that he fhould rife to any high rank in
it? Nay did he himself ever feem to expect it? Per-
haps there was no man of his time who had fo many,
and fuch fair opportunities of advancing himself to the
higheſt dignities of the Church, could he in the leaſt
relax from his principles. Upon his return to Sir Wil-
liam Temple, after having refigned his living in Ire-
land, in order to attend his fummons, he had the
Strongest
DOCTOR SWIFT.
425
ſtrongeſt claim upon him for immediate preferment;
and there can be no doubt, had he preffed it, that the
promiſe made to Sir William by the King, would have
been performed. But he had too much generofity of
foul, to urge this at a time, when the ill ftate of his
friend's health, required the conftant attendance of
fuch a companion to alleviate his fufferings: and when
his death had releafed him from the benevolent task,
we have ſeen how coldly he purfued the claim he had
on King William, and how foon he quitted the purfuit,
as his high ſpirit could not brook the attendance necef-
fary to fucceed at Court. When he went over to Ire-
land with Lord Berkeley, though he had then no for-
tune, nor proſpect of proviſion from any other quarter,
yet, upon his breach of promife, he broke from him
with marks of the higheſt reſentment. He was after-
wards in high favour with the leading men in the
Whiggiſh Miniſtry, who made overtures to him of the
moſt advantageous kind, if he would affift them in
their defigns; but when he found their plan was to un-
dermine the Church, which he justly confidered as
one main pillar of the State; and to promote the pri-
vate intereſts of a Junto, at the expence of the com-
munity; he not only quitted them entirely, but pub-
liſhed ſeveral pieces written exprefsly to counteract their
meaſures; and this too, long before he was even per-
fonally known to any leaders of the other party: ſo
that his conduct could have proceeded only from difin-
tereſted motives.
During the laſt years of Queen Anne, from the au-
thentic account given of the part he fuftained in the
political drama of that time, fure never man had a
more clear open way before him to the fummit of pre-
ferment. He was the prop and pillar of that Admini-
ſtration; the fole confidential man, without whofe par-
ticipation
426
THE LIFE OF
ticipation and advice, nothing of moment was under-
taken, and the chief inftrument in carrying their deli-
berations into execution. The bofom friend of Ox-
ford, and equally beloved by his rival Bolingbroke.
Had he been a man of intrigue, what fairer opportu-
nities could he have wifhed for? Nay, had he only been.
filent with regard to certain points; had he followed
the lead of the Miniſtry themſelves, by acquiefcing in
thoſe meaſures of the Queen, which they found they
could not prevail on her to change, his fuccefs had been
infallible. But, during that critical time, he ſeems to
have left all idea of felf out of the queftion. He took
a decided part in purſuing fuch meaſures as he thought
moft conducive to the public interefts, let who would
be diſobliged at it; and accordingly incurred the
Queen's difpleaſure to fuch a degree, as to render
hopeleſs all expectations of favours from her. He
forefaw the confequences of fuch a conduct, and fays,
in his Journal to Stella, he knew it was the fure way
to fend him back to his willows, adding, with great
indifference," But I care not."
From all this it appears, that he never was in the
fmalleft degree infected with that fpecies of ambition,
which fecks to attain its end per fas et nefas: on the
contrary, it has been ſhewn that he declined taking the
fair and honeft fteps, confiftent with the niceft prin-
ciples, which lay before him to promotion; nor would
he even facrifice to it the fmalleft part of his delicacy,
fo far as to aſk any favour for himſelf, from thoſe on
whom he had conferred the highest obligations. But
on no occafion did he fhew more clearly, how little
way ambition had over his mind, when it interfered
even with the moft refined delicacy of fentiment, than
by accepting of Lord Oxford's invitation to accompany
him in his retirement after his fall, and refuſing the
preffing
DOCTOR SWIFT.
427
preffing folicitations of the new Miniſter, backed by the
Queen's favourite, to affift them in carrying their new
meaſures into effect; though, at the fame time, they
were the very meaſures that had been the object of all his
views, from the time that he had entered into the politi-
cal line.
tue.
We
And yet he had ambition to a high degree, but it was
of the pureft and nobleft kind. He was ambitious of
forming a diftinguished character in life, by exerting to
the utmoſt thofe talents that God had beftowed on him,
for the good of mankind, and by a pre-eminence in vir-
To anſwer this end, confcious of his ftrength, he
relied folely upon himſelf, and was little folicitous about
external aid. In one of his letters to Pope, he ſays,-
"Becauſe I cannot be a great Lord, I would acquire what
is a kind of fubfidium; I would endeavour that my bet-
ters fhould feek me, by the merit of fomething diftinguiſh-
able, inſtead of my feeking them." How fucceſsful he
was in attaining his end, has been already fhewn.
have ſeen in what a high point of light he ftood, during
the latter years of Queen Anne; and what homage was
paid him by all the Great, of both fexes, when he was
only a petty Vicar of Laracor. But this was nothing in
compariſon of the honours that afterwards awaited him,
when a whole kingdom looked up to him as their firſt and
greateſt man; when the humble title of Dean, dignified
by his wearing it, with a* The before it, conferred by
the general voice, made all other titles fink degraded :
when at a meeting of all the Nobles, with the Viceroy
on his throne, Earls, Viſcounts, Barons, Archbishops,
Biſhops, and Judges, fhrunk into pigmies, like the af
ſembly deſcribed by Milton in the Pandemonium, upon
* He was never mentioned by any other title but that of The Dean;
in the fame manner as Ariftotle was called The Stagyrite, and Homer
The Poet.
the
428
THE LIFE OF
the entrance of The Dean; all eyes being turned on him
alone, all voices employed in his praiſe and when that
kingdom itſelf, by nature great, but rendered little by
oppreffion, was ſcarce heard of in Europe, but as the
place of his nativity and refidence. What titles, what
dignities conferred on him by the Monarchs of the earth,
could have raiſed him to fuch a height, as that true no-
bility of foul, beſtowed on him by the King of Kings?
To ſuppoſe that he was not confcious of his pre-emi-
nence over others, or that he was not pleafed with the
homage paid him on that account, would be to fuppoſe
him not to be a man. But whoever impute pride to him
in confequence of this, charge him unjustly. I mean
when the word is taken in its bad fenfe; for there is a
virtuous pride, as well as a laudable ambition: and his
pride, like his ambition, was of the nobleft kind. That
it was viewed in another light by the world, was owing
to the wrong judgment formed by the bulk of mankind,
who feldom penetrate farther than the ſurface, and are go-
verned by appearances. But Swift looked deeply into
the nature of things, and eftimated their value, not by
the ſtandard of opinion or faſhion, but that of right rea-
fon. The maxim he laid down, and always maintained
in the face of the Great, was, "That a man of genius
and talents, was a character fuperior to that of a Lord;
and the man of virtue, to that of the man of wealth. Is
there any one who will difpute the truth of this in theory,
however different the practice may be, from the corrup-
tions of mankind? But Swift was not content with vainly
fpeculating upon this point, in the manner of other
Writers; he determined that his conduct fhould be con-
formable to his principles. As he wanted not the aſſiſtance
of the Noble or the Rich, he fought not their acquaint-
ance; and if any were defirous of his, the firſt overtures
must come from them, and their advances be in propor-
tion
DOCTOR SWIFT.
429
tion to their rank; expecting, as he himself expreffes it,
more from a Duke or a Duchefs, than from thofe of an
inferior clafs. To this, numbers of the first order of No-
bility conformed, acknowledging the juftice of his claim;
and fo high was the reputation of Swift, and his charac-
ter fo diſtinguiſhed from the reft of the world, that fome
of the moſt lofty ones among them, facrificed their pride
to the vanity of being numbered among his acquaintance.
But it was only to the vain-glorious, who were proud of
the accidental fuperiority which their birth gave them, that
he affumed this behaviour. To his equals, among which
number he reckoned all men of genius and virtue, he put
on no airs of fuperiority, but lived with them on the moſt
friendly and familiar footing. His inferiors, he always
treated with complacency and good-humour, unleſs they
happened to fhew themfelves to be either knaves or fools,
and to them he was not fparing of his correction. In
mixed focieties, according to his own principle, he expect-
ed the fame reſpect to be fhewn him, as is ufually paid to
perfons of the higheſt rank: nor was he often difappoint-
ed in this, as there was fomething fo commanding in his
aſpect, expreffive of the native fuperiority of his mind,
that it ftruck the beholders with awe, and produced that
reverence from the heart, which is only fhewn by exter-
nal ceremonies to artificial greatneſs. But among his in-
timates, this deportment was entirely thrown afide; where
he indulged the utmoſt familiarity, giving free fcope to
the vagaries of fancy, often to a childish playfulneſs of
mirth. In fhort his pride, if by that name it muſt be
called, was of the fame kind as that of Admiral Villars,
deſcribed by Sully, as arifing from that inborn noble eleva-
tion of mind, which, in great fouls, is only a perception
of their own worth, without the least mixture of mean va-
nity, or the intoxication of felf-love.
The charge of avarice againſt him, is, if poffible, lefs
founded than any of the others; for never man was more
free
430
THE LIFE OF
free from that vice, till it came upon him with the other
infirmities of old age, as appears by the whole tenor of
his conduct. Many inftances of his liberality, and un-
bounded charity, have been already produced; I fhall now
mention fome others, which will fhew how little place the
love of money had in his heart. He allowed Mrs.
Dingley a penſion of fifty-two pounds per annum, which
with her own annuity of twenty-eight, made up a yearly
income of eighty pounds; a very handfome fupport for a
fingle woman in thoſe days. But this he infifted ſhould
be kept an entire ſecret between themſelves, always pre-
tending that he only acted as her agent for money which
he had in the funds. And the better to deceive thoſe
about him, when fhe has fent for any part of this allow-
ance, he would fometimes pretend to be in a paffion, and
cry out, pox take this woman, ſhe is always plaguing me
for money; tell her I have none to fend her; I have had
no remittances from London this half year. And then
cooling by degrees, he would fend her the money by way
of advance, and take her receipt accordingly. By this
way of proceeding, thofe of his greateft intimacy were
deceived; nor was it till after his faculties were impaired,
that they discovered by accident that theſe payments came
out of his own purfe. Acting as he did with fuch deli-
cacy in conferring favours, it is to be fuppofed that many
other inftances of his liberality have never come to light.
Of all the trials of an avaricious difpofition, nothing
fo likely to make it fhew itſelf in the moft glaring colours,
as fome conſiderable unexpected lofs. To this teſt was
Swift ſeverely put in two remarkable occurrences in dif-
ferent periods of his life. The firft was in 1712, before
he was made Dean of St. Patrick's. He had depofited near
four hundred pounds in the hands of his friend Stratford,
which was all the money he then poffeffed in the world.
An account was brought him that Stratford was broke.
What
1
DOCTOR SWIFT.
431
What effect this had on him he thus defcribes in his
Journal to Stella. "I came home reflecting a little; no-
thing concerned me but MD. I called all my philofo-
phy and religion up; and, I thank God, it did not keep
me awake beyond my ufual time above a quarter of an
hour."
Of the other he gives the following account, in a letter
to Mr. Worral, dated Quilca, June 11, 1725.
"Your letter has informed me of what I did not ex-
pect, that I am juft even with the world; for, if my
debts were paid, I think I ſhould not have fifty pounds
befide my goods. I have not railed, nor fretted, nor loft
my fleep, nor ftomach, I thank God. My greateſt
trouble is, that fome friends, whom I intended to make
eafy during their lives, and the Public, to which I be-
queathed the reverfion, will be difappointed." And in
another to Dr. Sheridan, of the fame date, he ſays,
"You are to know that by Mr. Pratt's ruin I loſe only
twelve hundred and fifty pounds which he owes me. So
that I am now, as near as I can compute, not worth
one farthing but my goods. I am therefore just to begin
the world. I ſhould value it lefs, if fome friends and the
Public were not to fuffer; and I am aſhamed to ſee my-
felf fo little concerned on account of the two latter. For,
as to myſelf, I have learned to confider what is left, and
not what is loſt.-But enough of this."
Such a perfect refignation and compofure of mind on
fuch trying occafions, muſt ſurely clear him from all im-
putations of avarice; and it is evident from the above
paffages, that he valued money no farther than as it might
enable him to be uſeful to others. For, with regard to
all expences relative to himſelf, he was more than fru-
gal; as he grudged every fuperfluity in his domeſtic eco-
nomy, in order that he might have it more in his power
to gratify his charitable and liberal propenfities. And
here
432
THE LIFE OF
here we have a ſtrong proof given how far he had in-
dulged himſelf in that way, when we find that in the
year 1725, twelve years after his being in poffeffion of
his Deanery, he had faved only fo fmall a fum as 12501.
But nothing can demonſtrate more clearly, the little value
he at all times fet upon money, than his fcorning to re-
ceive any payment for his Works, even when his circum-
ſtances were at the loweft. In theſe two great articles of
preferment and fortune, he feems to have adopted the
maxims, and followed the example of his noble difinte-
refted friend, Sir William Temple; who never folicited
any employment, nor received the ſmalleſt reward for all
the great fervices he did the nation. But this conduct
was certainly more meritorious in Swift, as Sir William
inherited an eaſy independent fortune, and Swift was
born to no patrimony.
The laſt charge, as before mentioned, againſt Swift,
and which has gained moft general credit, is that of per-
fect mifanthropy; and this is chiefly founded upon his
fuppofed fatyr on human nature, in the picture he has
drawn of the Yahoos. This opinion has been fo univer-
fally adopted by almoſt all who have read Gulliver's Tra-
vels, that to controvert it would be fuppofed to act in
oppofition to the common fenfe and reafon of mankind.
And yet I will undertake to overthrow it, by appealing
to that very reaſon and common fenfe, upon which they
fuppofe it to be founded. I fhall only beg of my reader
that he would lay afide for a while any prepoffeffion he
may have entertained of that kind, and candidly examine
what I ſhall advance in fupport of the oppofite fide of the
queftion; and if he finds the arguments there laid down
unanſwerable, that he will not obftinately perſiſt in error,
by whatever numbers it may be fupported, but ingenu-
ouſly yield to conviction. The pofition I mean to prove
is, that the whole apologue of the Houyhnhnms and
Yahoos,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
433
Yahoos, far from being intended as a debafement of hu-
man nature, if rightly understood, is evidently defigned
to fhew in what the true dignity and perfection of man's
nature confiſts, and to point out the way by which it may
be attained.
man;
what defign the
In the first three
In order to this, let us first fee with
fourth book of the Travels was written.
books he has given various views of the different vices,
follies, and abfurdities of mankind, not without fome
mixture of good qualities, of virtue and wiſdom, though
in a ſmall proportion to the others, as they are to be found
in life. In his laft book, he meant to exhibit two new
portraits; one, of pure unmixed vice; the other, of per-
fect unadulterated virtue. In order that the native de-
formity of the one, might excite in us a deeper abhor-
rence of evil; and the refplendent charms of the other,
allure us to what is good. To reprefent theſe to us in
fenfible forms, he cloaths the one with the body of a
the other, with that of a horfe. Between thefe
two he divides the qualities of the human mind, taking
away the rational foul from the Yahoo, and transferring
it to the Houyhnhnm. To the Yahoo he leaves all the
paffions and evil propenfities of man's nature, to be ex-
erted without any check or controul, as in the cafe of all
other animals. The rational foul in the Houyhnhnm, acts
unerringly as by inftinct; it intuitively perceives what is
right, and neceffarily acts up to the dictates of reafon.
The Yahoo, as here deſcribed, is a creature of fancy, the
product of the author's brain, which never had any thing
fimilar to it upon earth. It has no refemblance to man,
but in the make of its body, and the vicious propenfities
of its nature. It differs from him wholly in all the cha-
racteriſtical marks which diftinguish man from the reſt of
the animal world. It has not a ray of reafon, it has no
fpeech, and it goes, like other quadrupedes, upon all
Ff
four.
434
OF
THE LIFE
four. Now, as reafon, fpeech, and walking upright on
two legs, are the univerfal properties of the human race,
even in the moft favage nations, which peculiarly mark
their fuperiority over brutes, how, in the name of Hea-
ven, has it come to pass, that by almoſt all who have
read Gulliver, the Yahoos have been confidered as beings
of the human fpecies, and the odious picture drawn of
them, as intended to vilify and debaſe our nature? But
it is evident from the whole account given of this creature
of his fancy, that the author intended it ſhould be con-
fidered as a mere beaft, of a new fpecies; for he has not
only deprived it of all the characteriſtical diſtinctions of
man before recited, but has fuperadded fome material
differences even in his bodily organs and powers, fufficient
to diftinguish it from the human race. He fays,-"They
climbed high trees as nimbly as a fquirrel, for they had
ftrong extended claws before and behind, terminating in
fharp points, and hooked." Now it is well known, that
the human nails, when fuffered to grow to any confider-
able length, never affume that fhape, and unlefs pared,
diſable the hands from difcharging their office *. He
fays in another place,-"They are prodigiously nimble
from their infancy." This is directly oppoſite to the na-
ture of the children of men, who are the moſt helpleſs in
infancy, and the floweſt in arriving at any degree of
ftrength or agility, of all living creatures. Indeed it was
neceffary to the author's end, that of thewing the vicious.
qualities of man's nature in their pure unmixed ftate, that
the creature in whom they were placed fhould be a mere
brute, governed as all others are by an irrefiftible instinct,
without any controul from a fuperior faculty; and ac-
*The Mandarines of China, from an abfurd cuftom of letting their
nails grow to their utmoſt extent, as a mark of diſtinction, are obliged
to have all the common offices of life, even to that of feeding them,
performed by their domestics.
cordingly
DOCTOR SWIFT.
435
cordingly he ſeems to have thrown in thefe additional cir-
cumſtances to diftinguish it from any thing human. At
the fame time it was alfo neceffary to give this creature the
human form, in order to bring the leffon home to man,
by having the vicious part of his nature reflected back to
him from one in his own fhape; for in the form of any
other creature, he would not think himself at all concerned
in it. Yet it is on account of its bodily form only, re.
preſented as it is in fo hideous a light, that the pride of
man was alarmed, and made him blind to the author's
deſign, ſo as to charge him with an intention of degrading
and vilifying the whole of human nature below that of
brutes. I have already fhewn that the whole of human
nature has no concern in what is related of this creature,
as he is entirely deprived of all the characteriſtic properties
of man which diftinguish him from, and elevate him
above all other animals. I have alfo fhewn, that even his
body, however refembling in outward form, is not the
body of a man, but of a beaft. In the first place it is
prone, like all other beafts, which never was the cafe in
any human creature,
Os homini fublime dedit, cælumque tueri
Fulit.
In the next, he has long hooked claws, which enable him
to climb the higheſt trees with the nimbleness of a fquir-
rel, and to dig holes in the earth for his habitation. Their
faces too, as in fome other tribes of animals, were all
alike, being thus defcribed: "The face of this animal
indeed was flat and broad, the nofe depreffed, the lips
large, and the mouth wide." When we confider tco,
that theſe features were never enlivened by the rational
foul, nor the countenance lighted up by the benevolent
fenfations in man, which conftitute the chief beauty of
F f 2
the
436
THE LIFE OF
!
the human face, but on the contrary were continually
diftorted by a variety of malevolent paffions, we muſt
conclude with Gulliver, that fuch a man-beaſt muſt be
the moſt odious animal that ever crawled upon the face of
the earth; and that his defcription of it, difgufting as it
is, is not in the leaft exaggerated. At first fight they had
fo little reſemblance to any thing human, that Gulliver
miftook them for fome new fpecies of cattle belonging
to the inhabitants. After having given a deſcription of
them as they appeared to him when he firft faw a number
of them near him, where he lay concealed behind a
thicket, in order to mark their form more diftinctly, he
fays, "So that thinking I had feen enough, full of con-
tempt and averfion, I got up and purfued the beaten
road, hoping it might direct me to the cabbin of fome
Indian. I had not got far, when I met one of theſe crea-
tures, full in my way, and coming up directly to me.
The ugly monfter, when he faw me, diftorted ſeveral
ways every feature of his vifage, and ftarted as at an ob-
ject he had never feen before; then approaching nearer,
lifted up his fore-paw, whether out of curiofity or mif-
chief, I could not tell: but I drew my hanger, and gave
him a good blow with the flat fide of it, for I durft not
ftrike with the edge, fearing the inhabitants might be
provoked against me, if they fhould come to know that I
had killed or maimed any of their cattle." And it was
not till afterwards, when he had an opportunity of exa-
mining one of them more clofely in his kennel, that he
perceived its reſemblance to the human figure. But it
may be aſked, to what end has fuch an odious animal
been produced to view? The anſwer is obvious. The
deſign of the author, in the whole of this apologue, is,
to place before the eyes of man a picture of the two dif
ferent parts of his frame, detached from each other, in
order that he may the better eftimate the true value of
each,
1
DOCTOR SWIFT.
437
cach, and fee the neceffity there is that the one fhould
have an abſolute command over the other. In your
merely animal capacity, fays he to man, without reafon
to guide you, and actuated only by a blind inftinct, I will
fhew you that you would be degraded below the beaſts
of the field. That very form, that very body, you are
now fo proud of, as giving you fuch a fuperiority over all
other animals, I will fhew you owe all their beauty, and
all their greateſt powers, to their being actuated by a ra-
tional foul. Let that be withdrawn, let the body be in-
habited by the mind of a brute, let it be prone as their's
are, and fuffered like their's to take its natural courfe,
without any affiftance from art, you would in that cafe be
the moſt deformed, as to your external appearance, the
moſt deteftable of all creatures. And with regard to
your internal frame, filled with all the evil difpofitions,
and malignant paffions of mankind, you would be the
moft miferable of beings, living in a continued ftate of
internal vexation, and of hatred and warfare with each
other.
On the other hand, I will fhew another picture of an
animal endowed with a rational foul, and acting uniformly
up to the dictates of right reafon. Here you may fee col-
lected all the virtues, all the great qualities, which dig-
nify man's nature, and conſtitute the happinets of his life.
What is the natural inference to be drawn from theſe two
different repreſentations? Is it not evidently a leffon to
mankind, warning them not to fuffer the animal part to
be predominant in them, left they refemble the vile Ya-
hoo, and fall into vice and mifery; but to emulate the
noble and generous Houyhnhnm, by cultivating the ra
tional faculty to the utmoft; which will lead them to a
life of virtue and happiness.
Is it not very extraordinary that mankind in general
fhould fo readily acknowledge their reſemblance to the
Ff3
Yahoe,
438
THE LIFE OF
Yahoo, whofe fimilitude to man confifts only in the make
of its body, and the evil difpofitions of its mind; and
that they ſhould fee no refemblance to themfelves, in a
creature poffeffed of their chief characteriſtical marks,
reafon and ſpeech, and endowed with every virtue, with
every noble quality, which conftitute the dignity of man's
nature, which diftinguish and elevate the human above.
the brute fpecies? Shall they arraign the author of wri-
ting a malignant fatyr against human nature, when redu-
ced to its most abject brutal ftate, and wholly under the
dominion of the paffions; and fhall they give him no
credit for the exalted view in which he has placed the no-
bler part of our nature, when wholly under the direction,
of right reafon? Or are mankind fo ftupid, as in an a-
vowed fable, to ſtop at the outfide, the vehicle, without
diving into the concealed moral, which is the object of all
fable? Do they really take the Yahoo for a man, becauſe
it has the form of a man; and the Houyhnhnm for a horſe,
becauſe it has the form of a horfe? But we need not won-
der that the bulk of mankind fhould fall into this error,
when we find men pretending to the utmoſt depths of
wifdom, avowing themfelves of the fame mind. The
learned Mr. Harris, in his Philological Enquiries, has
the following paffage. "Mifanthropy is fo dangerous a
thing, and goes fo far in fapping the very foundations of
morality and religion, that I eſteem the laſt part of Swift's
Gulliver, (that I mean relative to his Houyhnhnms and
Yahoos) to be a worſe book to perufe, than thoſe which
we are forbid, as the moſt flagitious and obfcene. One
absurdity in this author (a wretched Philofopher though a
great Wit) is well worth remarking-in order to render
the nature of man odious, and the nature of beaſts ami-
able, he is compelled to give human characters to his
beafts, and beaftly characters to his men: fo that we are
to admire the beafts, not for being beafts, but amiable
men;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
439
men; and to deteft the men, not for being men, but de-
teſtable beafts." I believe fo ftrange an interpretation of
an author's meaning, never fell from the pen of any com-
mentator. He firft affumes that the end propofed by
Swift in this fable, is, to render the nature of man odious,
and the nature of beafts amiable. This furely was a moſt
unaccountable defign in any human creature; and before
it can be admitted, it ought to be firſt proved that Swift
was of a beaſtly difpofition, which engaged him on the
fide of his fellow brutes. And if this were his object, no
mortal ever uſed more unlikely means to attain it, and no
one ever more completely failed of his end. By repre-
fenting a beaſt in a human form, without any one charac-
teriſtical mark of man, he could hardly expect to render
human nature itſelf odious: and by exhibiting fo ftrange
a phænomenon as the foul of man actuating a quadru-
pede, and regulating his conduct by the rules of right
reaſon, he could as little hope to render the nature of ir-
rational beafts more amiable. And accordingly I believe
no mortal ever had a worfe opinion of human nature, from
his defcription of the Yahoos ; nor a better of the brute
creation, from that of the Houyhnhnms. And all the ill
effect produced by this fable, has been turned on the au-
thor himſelf, by raifing the general indignation of man-
kind againſt him, from a miſtaken view of his intention:
fo that the Writer of the above remarks, need not have
prohibited the reading of that part of Gulliver with fuch
folemnity, as it never did, nor never can make one pro-
felyte to Mifanthropy, whereof he feems fo apprehenfive;
but on the contrary may be productive of great good,
from the moral fo evidently to be deduced from it, as has
already been made appear.
In one paragraph of the above quoted paffage, the au-
thor, wrapped up in the pride of philofophy, feems to
look down upon Swift with fovereign contempt, where
F f 4
he
440
THE LIFE OF
he fays," One abfurdity in this author (a wretched Phi-
lofopher, though a great Wit) is well worth remarking,"
&c. But it has been already fhewn, that the abſurdity
belongs to the commentator, not to the author; and it
will be difficult to perfuade the world, that Swift is not
one of the greateft adepts in the first philofophy, the fci-
ence of mankind; of which he has given fuch ample
proofs throughout his Works, and more particularly in
this very book, fo fupercilioully decried by this foi difant
Philofopher; and which will be of more real benefit to
mankind, than the labours of a thoufand fuch Writers as
the author of Philological Enquiries, employed about
ſplendid trifles, and uſeleſs Metaphyfics.
In a
Another Writer of no fmall eminence has attacked
Swift with great virulence on the fame account.
Pamphlet of Dr. Young's, entitled Conjectures on Origi-
nal Compofition, there is the following paffage. "If fa,
O Gulliver! doft thou not fhudder at thy brother Lucian's
vultures hovering o'er thee? Shudder on! they cannot
fhock thee more, than decency has been ſhocked by thee.
How have thy Houyhnhnms thrown thy judgment from
its feat, and laid thy imagination in the mire? In what
ordure haft thou dipt thy pencil? What a monster haft
thou made of the
Human face divine?
MILTON.
This Writer has fo fatyrifed human nature, as to give a
demonſtration in himself, that it deſerves to be fatyriſed.'
In anſwer to which I fhall addrefs him in his own way-
O Doctor Young, how has thy prejudice thrown thy
judgment from its feat, and let thy imagination hurry thee
beyond all bounds of common fenfe! In what black com-
pofition of ſpleen and envy haſt thou dipt thy pen! What
a monstrous character haft thou given of
One of the noblest men
That ever lived in the tide of times.
SHAKESPEARE.
Thou
DOCTOR SWIFT.
441
Thou haft fo fatyrifed this great man, as to fhew that thou
thyfelf deferveft the utmoſt ſeverity of fatyr." After fuch
a ftring of poetical epiphonemas, what is the charge which
he brings against Swift. It is all contained in theſe words
"What a monster haft thou made, of the human face
divine!" Now as Dr. Young himſelf, and all the world
muſt have allowed, that the human face can have no
claim to the epithet of divine, unleſs when animated by
the divine particle within us, how can he be faid to make
a monstrous reprefentation of the human face divine, who
firſt ſuppoſes the divine part to be withdrawn, which en-
titles it to that appellation, and ſubſtitutes in its place the
mind of a brute. Muft not the human countenance in
this cafe loſe all that beauty and expreffion, which it de-
rives from the foul's looking out at the eyes, and anima-
ting every feature? On the contrary, what more deformed
or fhocking object can be exhibited to view, than the hu-
man face diſtorted by all the vile and malevolent paffions
belonging to man's nature. Let any one reflect what fen-
fations he has had on the fight of an idiot, an outrageous
mad-man, or one poffeffed by ungovernable fury, extreme
hatred, or implacable revenge, and he muſt allow that
the picture Swift gives of the Yahoo face, always expref-
five of fome one or other of fimilar paffions, however hi-
deous it may be, is yet a juſt likeneſs.
What then is the meaning of the general clamour raifed
againſt Swift, unless it be thought criminal in him to fup-
pofe it poffible, even in a fable, that the human frame,
upon which we value ourſelves fo highly, might be the
receptacle of a brutal foul? I fhould not wonder if fuch
men fhould arraign the Almighty alfo, for having really
effected this in the cafe of Nebuchadnezzar; or exhibit-
ing another inftance of it to our view, without a miracle,
in that of Peter the Wild Man, caught in the woods of
Germany; in whom was to be found a perfect image of
that
442
THE LIFE OF
A
that man-beaſt which Swift fuppofes in his Yahoo *. Nor
fhould I be ſurpriſed if they who value themſelves chiefly
on their outward form, fhould mutter complaints against
their Creator, for giving certain animals fo near a refem-
blance to them, as is to be found in fome fpecies of ba-
boons, but more particularly in the man-tyger; who not
only is formed exactly like man in his bodily organs, but,
like him too, often walks erect upon two legs, with a ſtaff
in his hand, fits down upon chairs, and has the fame de-
portment in many other points.
But while they fo fqueamishly take offence at this non-
entity, this chimæra of the brain, does it never occur to
them that there really exifts thoufands and ten thousands.
of their own fpecies, in different parts of this peopled
earth, infinitely more deteftable than the Yahoos. In
whatever odious light their form has been pourtrayed,
can it excite higher difguft than that of the Hottentot, de-
corated with guts, which are uſed for food when in a ſtate
of putrefaction; and who loads his head with a mixture
of ſtinking greaſe and foot, to make a fecure lodgment for
fwarms of the moft filthy vermin: or than thofe favages,
who flaſh, mangle, and deform, with a variety of horrid
figures, the human face divine, in order to ſtrike a greater
terror into their enemies? Are there any actions attributed
to the miferable Yahoo fo diabolical as are conſtantly prac-
tifed in fome of theſe favage nations, by expofing their
children, murdering their parents in their old age, and
roafting and eating their captives taken in war, with many
other abominations? In all which inftances we fee, that
human reaſon, in its ſtate of depravity, is productive of
infinitely worſe confequences, than can proceed from a
total deprivation of it. This leffon Gulliver has taken
* It is faid the late Queen had the curiofity to fee this wild man,
but was fo fhocked at the appearance he made, that he ordered him
immediately out of her prefence.
care
DOCTOR SWIFT.
443
care to inculcate, where his maſter Houyhnhnm, after
having received an account from him of the manners
and cuſtoms of the Europeans, makes the following
obfervation: "That although he hated the Yahoos of
this country, yet he no more blamed them for their
odious qualities, than he did a gnnayh (a bird of prey)
for its cruelty, or a fharp ftone for cutting his hoof.
But when a creature, pretending to reafon, could be
capable of fuch enormities, he dreaded left the cor-
ruption of that faculty, might be worfe than brutality
itſelf."
It may be faid that the inftances of depravity above
quoted, are only to be found among favages, whofe
minds, unenlightened by knowledge, are governed
wholly by their brutal appetites and paffions; and that
a true picture of human nature is only to be taken from
the more civilized States. Let us fee, therefore, whe-
ther in our own dear country, while we boaft fo much
of the extraordinary lights drawn from Philofophy,
and the divine illumination of the Gofpel, we do nor
abound in crimes more numerous, and more fatal to
fociety, even than thofe of favages. Of thefe Swift
has given us a long muſter-roll, where he defcribes the
happy life he led among the Houyhnhnms, free from the
odious ſcenes of vice in his own country, in the fol-
lowing paffage: "I enjoyed perfect health of body,
and tranquillity of mind; I did not feel the treachery
or inconftancy of a friend, nor the injuries of a fecret
or open enemy. I had no occafion of bribing, flatter-
ing, or pimping, to procure the favour of any great
man, or his minion. I wanted no fence against fraud
or oppreffion; here was neither phyfician to deftroy my
body, nor lawyer to ruin my fortune; no informer to
watch my words and actions, or forge accufations againſt
me for hire here were no gibers, cenfurers, backbiters,
pick..
444
THE LIFE OF
pick-pockets, highwaymen, houfebreakers, attornies,
bawds, buffoons, gamefters, politicians, wits, fplene-
ticks, tedious talkers, controvertiſts, raviſhers, mur-
derers, robbers, virtuofos: no leaders or followers of
party and faction; no encouragers to vice by feduce-
ment or example; no dungeon, axes, gibbets, whip-
ping-pofts, or pillories; no cheating fhopkeepers or
mechanicks; no pride, vanity, or affectation; no fops,
bullies, drunkards, ftrolling whores, or poxes; no
ranting, lewd, expenfive wives; no ftupid proud pe-
dants; no importunate, over-bearing, quarrelfome,
noify, roaring, empty, conceited, fwearing compa-
nions; no fcoundrels raifed from the duft upon the me-
rit of their vices, or nobility thrown into it on account
of their virtues; no Lords, Fidlers, Judges, or Dan-
cing-mafters."
In another place, after having brought the whole
ftate of affairs in England before the Judgment-feat of
the King of Brobdingnag, he thus relates the fenti-
ments of that wife and virtuous Monarch on the occa-
fion: "He was perfectly aftonifhed with the hiftorical
account I gave him of our affairs during the last cen-
tury, proteſting it was only a heap of confpiracies, re-
bellions, murders, maſſacres, revolutions, baniſhments,
the very worſt effects that avarice, faction, hypocrify,
perfidiouſneſs, cruelty, rage, madneſs, hatred, envy,
Juft, malice, and ambition could produce. His Ma-
jeſty in another audience was at the pains to recapitulate
the fum of all I had fpoken; compared the queftions
with the anſwers I had given; then taking me into his
hands, and ftroaking me gently, delivered himfelf in
thefe words, which I fhall never forget, nor the manner
he ſpoke them in: "My little friend Grildrig, by what
I have gathered from your own relation, and the an-
fwers I have with much pains wringed and extorted
from
DOCTOR SWIFT.
445
from you, I cannot but conclude the bulk of your na-
tives to be the moft pernicious race of little odious ver-
min, that nature ever ſuffered to crawl on the furface
of the earth.'
5
Is it not ſtrange, that fo bold a fatyr on human na-
ture, in its actual ſtate of existence, fhould excite no
refentment in mankind, and that they fhould fo readily
take the alarm at an imaginary reprefentation of it?
But in the former cafe men are ready enough to fee
and allow all manner of vices and bad qualities of the
mind in others, though they are fo blinded by felf-love
as not to find the refemblance to themfelves; but when
their bodily form, common to all men, is vilified and
debaſed, each individual brings the attack home to
himfelf, his felf-love takes fire at the view, and kindles
his indignation against the author, as an enemy to the
whole human fpecies. That this opinion, however ill-
founded, became fo general, is eaſily to be accounted
for, as taking its rife from two of the most prevailing
paffions in human nature, pride, and envy. The for-
mer called the univerfal paffion by Dr. Young; and the
latter partaking of its nature, as fpringing from the
fame root. Their pride inftantly took fire upon feeing
that part of their frame, whereof in general men are
moft vain, reprefented in fo odious a light; and Envy
feized the occaſion of making ſo heavy a charge as that
of Miſanthropy, againſt a man of ſuch uncommon ta-
Jents. This broke forth chiefly among Authors, jea-
lous of that high degree of fame obtained by the fu-
periority of his genius; and as he was unaffailable on
that fide, they thought to bring him down more on a
level with themſelves, by attributing fome of the fineſt
exertions of that genius to a malevolent difpofition:
and as the prejudices of mankind were of their fide,
they cheaply purchafed credit to themfelves, from ap-
pearing champions for the dignity of human nature.
Yet
446
THE LIFE OF
Yet there were not wanting others of clearer difcern-
ment, and a more liberal turn of mind, who faw this
whole affair in its true light. Among thefe the bene-
volent and judicious Dr. Hawkefworth, fteps forth as
an advocate for Swift, and decidedly gives judgment
in his favour. In one of his notes on Gulliver, he ſays,
whoever is diſguſted with this picture of a Yahoo, would
do well to reflect, that it becomes his own in exact pro-
portion as he deviates from virtue; for virtue is the
perfection of reafon: the appetites of thofe abandoned
to vice, are not lefs brutal and fordid than thoſe of a
Yahoo, nor is their life a ftate of lefs abject fervility."
And in another of his comments upon a paffage where-
in Swift had given a lively and true defcription of the
horrors of war, ftripped of all the glare and falſe co-
louring thrown over it by vain-glory and ambition, he
explains, juftifies, and applauds the Author's motive,
for exhibiting here, as well as in all other parts of this
admirable work, fuch true pictures of the vicious prac-
tices and habits of mankind, however fanctified by cuf-
tom, or embelliſhed by faſhion. His words are theſe,
"It would perhaps be impoffible, by the moſt la-
boured arguments, or forcible eloquence, to fhew the
abfurd injuſtice and horrid cruelty of war, fo effectually,
as by this fimple exhibition of them in a new light:
with war, including every ſpecies of iniquity, and every
art of deftruction, we become familiar by degrees, un-
der fpecious terms; which are feldom examined, be-
cauſe they are learned at an age in which the mind re-
ceives and retains whatever is impreft on it. Thus it
happens, that when one man murders another to gra-
tify his luft, we fhudder at it; but when one man mur-
ders a million to gratify his vanity, we approve and ad-
mire, we envy and applaud. If, when this and the
preceding pages are read, we difcover with aſtoniſh-
ment;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
447
ment, that when the fame events have occurred in hif
tory, we felt no emotion, and acquiefced in wars which
we could not but know to have been commenced for
fuch cauſes, and carried on by fuch means; let not him
be cenfured for too much debafing his fpecies, who has
contributed to their felicity and preſervation, by ftrip-
ping off the veil of cuftom and prejudice, and hold-
ing up, in their native deformity, the vices by which
they become wretched, and the arts by which they are
deſtroyed."
Such is the conſtruction which will be put by all men
of candour, tafte, and judgment, upon thefe, and all
other paffages in Swift of a fimilar kind. But if there
are ſtill any who will perfift in finding out their own re-
femblance in the Yahoo, in the name of God, if the
cap fits, let them wear it, and rail on.
I ſhall only
take my leave of them with an old Latin fentence, Qui
capit ille facit.
There is another Writer, at prefent of gigantic fame.
in thefe days of little men, who has pretended to ſcratch
out a Life of Swift, but fo miferably executed, as only
to reflect back on himfelf that difgrace, which he meant
to throw upon the character of the Dean. I promifed
in the Preface to make fome frictures on this work,
which I fhall now perform. At his fetting out, Dr.
Johnſon fhews, which is fcarcely credible, that he held
this extraordinary man in very little eftimation, and
that he was not qualified to give any account of him
with the least degree of accuracy. He begins his re-
lation thus: "Jonathan Swift was, according to an ac-
count faid to be written by himfelf, the fon of Jona-
than Swift, an attorney, and was born at Dublin on St.
Andrew's day, 1667: according to his own report, as
delivered by Pope to Spence, he was born at Leiceſter,
the fon of a Clergyman, who was minifter of a pariſh
3
in
448
THE LIFE OF
the obfcurity in which he
in Herefordshire. During his life, the place of his
birth was undetermined. He was contented to be call-
ed an Iriſhman by the Irifh, but would occafionally
call himſelf an Englishman. The queſtion may, with-
out much regret, be left in
delighted to involve it." Here we fee how utterly
careleſs he was about a fact of the greateft notoriety,
and eſtabliſhed by the moſt authentic proofs. "Ac-
cording to an account ſaid to be written by himſelf,” &c.
Pray mark that expreffion. Had he taken the trouble
to inform himſelf, he would have found that this ac-
count ſaid to be written, is really in the Dean's own
hand-writing, and lodged by his relation Deane Swift
in the library of Dublin College, an account of which
he has publiſhed in his Effay on the Life of Swift. In
the 21ft Section of theſe Memoirs, the Dean fays,
fpeaking of himself, "He was born in Dublin, on St.
Andrew's day." In oppofition to this account given
by himself, Dr. Johnfon quotes a report from a fecond
hand, communicated to him from Pope through Spence,
"During his life, the place of his birth was undetermined."
On the contrary, I fay that the place of his birth never
admitted of any doubt, by thofe who were defirous of
information on that head; and if the Doctor had ever
looked into his correfpondence, he would have found
that he acknowledged it in feveral of his letters. "He
was contented to be called an Irishman, by the Irish, but
would occafionally call himself an Englishman." In the
fame place, where he found that he would occafionally
call himſelf an Englishman, he might have feen the
reaſon of his doing fo; which was, that "though dropt
in Ireland," as he himſelf expreffes it, in a letter to
Lord Oxford, he was defcended from English progeni-
tors on both fides. But the Doctor feems to have
thrown this matter into a ftate of doubt, merely to in-
troduce
DOCTOR SWIFT.
449
troduce the laft fentence, in order to infinuate the con-
temptible idea he had of Swift, where he fays," The
queſtion may, without much regret, be left in the obſcu-
rity in which he delighted to involve it." Which in
plain Engliſh would run thus-It is of very little mo-
ment where the fellow was born. As he has been very
exact in ftating the places of their birth in all the other
Lives of his Poets, even thofe of the lower clafs, his
marked indifference here is the more ftriking. But it
will be faid,-Is there any man upon earth that can
have a contemptible idea of Swift? Yes-fuch is the
high notion which the Doctor entertains of his own fu-
periority, that he always treated his name with con-
tempt. His common expreffion in talking of him,
was, that Swift was a very fhallow fellow.
Upon that paffage in Swift's Life, where it is related
that in the early part of it, he generally travelled on
foot, and lay at waggoners inns, he has the following
comment. "This practice Lord Orrery imputes to his
innate love of groffnefs and vulgarity: fome may afcribe
it to his defire of furveying human life thro' all its va-
rieties; and others, perhaps with equal probability, to
a paffion which feems to have been deep fixed in his
heart, the love of a fhilling." How little ground there
was for fuch a charge againft Swift, has been amply
fhewn; but that it fhould be authoriſed here, by the
fame Writer, who in another place fays," With all this
talk of his covetoufnefs and generofity, it ſhould be re-
membered that he was never rich,"-can be imputed
only to a ſpirit of detraction.
On another occafion he relates the following anec-
dote: Of his humour, a ſtory told by Pope may afford
a fpecimen, thus related by Spence.
Doctor Swift has an odd, blunt way, that is miſtaken
by ftrangers for ill-nature.-'Tis fo odd that there is no
G g
defcribing
450
THE LIFE OF
defcribing it but by facts. I'll tell you one that firft
comes into my head. One evening Gay and I went to
fee him: you know how intimately we were all ac-
quainted. On our coming in, "Heyday, gentlemen,
(fays the Doctor) what's the meaning of this viſit!
How came you to leave all the great Lords that you
are fo fond of, to come hither to fee a poor Dean ?”
Becauſe we would rather fee you than any of them.
"Ay, any one that did not know fo well as I do, might
believe you. But fince you are come, I muſt get fome
fupper for you, I fuppole."-No, Doctor, we have ſup-
ped already." Supped already, that's impoffible!
why it is not eight o'clock yer.-That's very range!
but, if you had not fupped, I muſt have got fomething
for you. Let me fee, what should I have had? A
couple of lobſters, ay, that would have done very
well; two shillings-tarts a fhilling: but you will drink
a glafs of wine with me, though you fupped fo much
before your ufual time only to ipare my pocket."—No,
we had rather talk with you, than drink with you.-
"But if you had fupped with me, as in all reafon you
ought to have done, you must then have drank with
me.-A bottle of wine, two fhillings-two and two is
four, and one is five; juft two and fix-pence a piece.
There, Pope, there's half a crown for you, and there's
another for you, Sir; for I won't lave any thing by you,
I am determined."-This was all faid and done with
his ufual ferioufnefs on fuch occafions; and in ſpite of
every thing we could fay to the contrary, he actually
obliged us to take the money."
In all this account it is evident that Swift faw into his
friends motive for not fupping with him, which was
the fear of putting him to expence. Their pretending
to have ſupped at fo unufual an hour, and afterwards
refuſing a glass of wine, even fuppofing they had fup-
ped,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
451
ped, were full proofs of this. It was clear therefore to
him that they had given credit to the common report
of his covetoufnefs; and in order to fhew that he was
above fuch fordid thrift, and to punish them for fuppo-
fing it, by this practical rebuke, he made them undergo
the fhame of putting into their pockets, what would
otherwife have been ſpent in good fellowſhip. This
was evidently Swift's view, though it does not feem to
have occurred to Dr. Johnfon, who relates it only as an
inftance of his odd humour.
In his account of the Tale of a Tub, the Doctor
fays, That Swift was its author, though it be uni-
verſally believed, was never owned by himſelf, nor very
well proved by any evidence." Surely the Doctor has
never feen the letters that paffed between the Dean and
Ben Tooke, published in the 11th volume of the laſt
edition of his Works; wherein he not only acknowledges
himſelf the author, but gives directions about the pu-
blication of another edition, with an Apology prefixed
to it.
With regard to The Battle of the Books, he has re-
vived the old charge of Plagiarifm against Swift, in the
following paffage. "The Battle of the Books is fo like
the Combat des Livres, which the fame queftion con-
cerning the Ancients and Moderns had produced in
France, that the improbability of fuch a coincidence of
thoughts without communication, is not, in my opi-
nion, balanced by the anonymous proteftation prefixed,
in which all knowledge of the French book is peremp-
torily diſowned.”
This charge was first made againſt Swift by Wotton,
in the following words. "I have been affured, that
the Battle in St. James's Library, is, mutatis mutandis,
taken out of a French book, entituled, Combat des
Livres, if I miſremember not." Thus anfwered by
G g 2
Swift.
452
THE LIFE OF
Swift. "In which paffage there are two claufes obfer-
vable: I have been affured; and, if I mifremember not.
I deſire firſt to know, whether, if that conjecture proves
an utter falfehood, thofe two claufes will be a fufficient
excufe for this worthy Critic. The matter is a trifle;
but would he venture to pronounce at this rate upon
one of greater moment? I know nothing more con-
temptible in a Writer, than the character of a plagiary,
which he here fixes at a venture; and this not for a paf-
fage, but a whole difcourfe, taken out from another
book, only mutatis mutandis. The Author is as much
in the dark about this, as the Anfwerer; and will imi-
tate him by an affirmation at random; that if there be
a word of truth in this reflection, he is a paultry imi-
tating Pedant; and the Anfwerer is a perfon of wit,
manners, and truth. He takes his boldnefs, from ne-
ver having feen any fuch Treatife in his life, nor heard
of it before: and he is fure it is impoffible for two
Writers, of different times and countries, to agree in
their thoughts after fuch a manner, that two continued
difcourfes fhall be the fame, only mutatis mutandis.
Neither will he infift upon the mistake, in the title;
but let the Anſwerer and his friend produce any book
they pleaſe, he defies them to fhew one ſingle particu-
lar, where the judicious reader will affirm he has been
obliged for the fmalleft hint, giving only allowance for
the accidental encountering of a fingle thought, which
he knows may fometimes happen; though he has ne-
ver yet found it in that difcourfe, nor has heard it ob-
jected by any body elſe.”
Is it poffible to conceive that Swift would have made
fo bold an appeal, if he were not confcious of the truth
of what he advanced, when he might have been fo ea
fily confuted? Or that Wotton would not have ſeized
the opportunity, if he had it in his power, of fup-
porting
DOCTOR SWIFT.
453
porting his charge, to the utter difgrace of his adver-
fary? But, fince neither he, nor any one elfe, has ever
made the attempt, is it not aftonifhing that the calumny
fhould ftill remain? This is a striking inftance of that
levelling principle in mankind, which fwallows with
avidity any flanders propagated to the difadvantage of
exalted characters; for though I have never yet met
with any mortal who had feen fuch a book, yet I have
heard from the mouths of hundreds "that Swift's
Battle of the Books was taken from a French book,
called Combat des Livres." Now, though this might be
expected from the bulk of mankind, on account of the
principle above-mentioned, what fhall we fay when we
find a profeffed Biographer, bound by every principle
of juſtice and humanity to guard the memory of the
dead againſt falfe afperfions, become himfelf a particeps
criminis, by giving his fanction to a charge, which in
the very face of it carries not the leaft air of truth.
This charge is made by an avowed enemy, not from
his own knowledge, but from hearfay; and that too in
the most guarded manner; notwithſtanding which fuf-
picious circumſtances, Dr. Johnfon affumes it as a
truth, and forms his deductions from it accordingly.
The manner in which he invalidates the anfwer to it,
is moſt curious, and well worthy of the reader's obfer-
vation; where he fays, "That the improbability of
fuch a coincidence of thoughts, without communica-
tion, [ftill you fee taking the fact for granted] is not,
in my opinion, balanced by the anonymous proteftation
prefixed, in which all knowledge of the French book
is peremptorily difowned." Now the only reafon here
affigned for not giving due credit to this proteftation,
is, that it is anonymous; and in that cafe we are never
to give credit to any of Swift's publications, as they
were all anonymous, except his letter to the Earl of
Oxford,
Gg3
454
OF
THE
LIFE
Oxford. But there is no one who has the leaft know-
ledge of ftyle, that is not as fure that the Apology was
written by Swift, as if he faw it in his own hand-
writing. Or, if there were any doubt, his letter to
Tooke proves it beyond all contradiction. This is
fuch an instance of grofs prejudice, and want of
candour, as ſhould make the reader cautious how he
gives any credit to the many other mifreprefenta-
tions of this great man's character, difperfed through-
out the Work.
In fpeaking of Swift's political writings, he fays,--
"But he was now emerging into political controverſy;
for the fame year produced the Examiner, of which
Swift wrote thirty-three Papers. In argument he may
be allowed to have the advantage, &c. but with regard
to wit, I am afraid none of Swift's Papers will be found
equal to thoſe by which Addiſon oppoſed him.”
Here he has fhewn a moft fhameful ignorance of his
fubject, by faying that Swift was oppofed by Addiſon;
for had he only turned to the books, he would have
found that Addifon's laft Whig Examiner, was publish-
ed October 12, 1710; and Swift's firft Examiner on
the 10th of the following November. So that all this
boafted fuperiority of Addifon over Swift in this fup-
pofed conteft, falls to the ground; and I believe the
Doctor will find it hard to perfuade the world, that ei-
ther Addifon, or any man that ever lived, was fuperior
to Swift in wit.
On another fhining part of Swift's character, he makes
the following remark. "His difintereftedneſs has been
likewife mentioned, &c. He refufed, indeed, fifty
pounds from Lord Oxford, but he accepted afterwards
a draft of a thoufand upon the Exchequer, which was
intercepted by the Queen's death, and which he re-
figned, as he fays himself, multa gemens, with many a
groan.'
DOCTOR SWIFT.
455
groan." In what an invidious light has he placed this
tranfaction. But this is a common artifice of malice,
to relate bare facts, without any of the concomitant
circumftances, which may place thofe facts in a very
different point of view. As they are ftated here, the
inference to be drawn, is, that though Swift rejected
the offer of fo paltry a fum as that of fifty pounds,
he was not proof againſt fo large a bribe as that of a
thouſand; and this naturally follows from omitting the
circumſtances of time and occafion. When Lord Ox-
ford prefented him with a bill for fifty pounds, it was
at an early period of their acquaintance, when Swift
engaged to employ his pen in behalf of the meaſures
of that Miniftry; and was to be confidered only as an
earneft of future gratifications of the fame kind, ac-
cording to his future merits. We have feen with what
indignation he rejected this intended favour, and what
refentment he fhewed at his being thus put on the foot-
ing of a hireling Writer. He afterwards continued his
fervices for near three years without receiving or foli-
citing any reward; and when at laft the Deanery of
St. Patrick's was given him, he told Lord Oxford that
he ought to have been put into the clear poffeffion of
it, and not be obliged to borrow money, as he hated
of all things to be in debt, for the neceffary expences
attending his induction to it. His claim was the
ſtronger on the Miniftry for this, as he was not at
all indebted to them for his preferment, which he
owed entirely to the friendship of the Duke of Or-
mond. I believe all the world will allow, that, had he
received it, this would have been but a poor reward
for all his long and important fervices; and had he
pufhed it, there can be no doubt but that it would have
been obtained. But finding his first hint neglected by
Lord Oxford, he fcorned to prefs it any farther; and
Gg 4
the
456
THE LIFE OF
the order on the Exchequer was made out without his
participation, as has been fhewn before, under the ſhort
Adminiſtration of Lord Bolingbroke. The latter part
of the fentence-" and which he refigned, as he fays.
himſelf, multa gemens, with many a groan,"-is written
in the fame ſpirit with the reft: for it is evident from
the whole turn of the letter which contains this paffage,
that Swift ufed this phrafe jocofely, which the Doctor
chooſes to take in a ferious light, and tranflate literally.
It was impoffible indeed that he could have the leaft
folicitude about it at the time this letter was writ, in
the year 1726, fourteen years after he had received the
order, which he never thought of prefenting. For
though it is highly probable, from the great favour
which he then ftood in with the Princefs, and the civil
reception he met with even at St. James's, that upon
proper application he might have been paid the de-
inand, to which he had an equitable right; yet he
fcorned to owe any obligation to a Minifter, of whofe
meaſures he fo entirely difapproved. And that this
was his way of thinking is fully proved by a letter writ-
ten to Dr. Sheridan about the fame time, where he
fays, "Tell the Archdeacon that I never afked for
my thousand pound, which he heard I have got; al-
though I mentioned it to the Princeſs the laſt time I
faw her, but I bid her tell Walpole I fcorned to afk
him for it."
But of all the charges brought againft Swift, there
is one of the most malignant nature, which has never
even been hinted at by any other Writer; and is utterly
unfupported by any evidence. It is contained in the
following paffage. "Swift was popular a while by an-
other mode of beneficence. He fet afide fome hun-
dreds to be lent in fmall fums to the poor, from five
fhillings, I think, to five pounds. He took no intc-
reſt,
DOCTOR SWIFT.
457
reft, and only required that at repayment, a fmall fee
fhould be given to the accomptant; but he required
that the day of promifed payment fhould be exactly
kept. A fevere and punctilious temper is ill qualified
for tranſactions with the poor; the day was often bro-
ken, and the loan was not repaid. This might have
been easily forefeen; but for this Swift had made no
proviſion of patience or pity. He ordered his debtors
to be fued. A fevere creditor has no popular charac-
ter; what then was likely to be faid of him who em-
ploys the catchpoll under the appearance of charity?
The clamour against him was loud, and the refentment
of the populace outrageous; he was therefore forced
to drop his fcheme, and own the folly of expecting
punctuality from the poor."
Now I do affert, from my own knowledge, that there
is not one fyllable of truth in this whole account, from
the beginning to the end. I have before fhewn what
wife precautions Swift took to prevent any diminution
of this fund; which were fo effectual, that it held out
entire to the laft, and the circulation of it continued
unimpaired, till he was deprived of his underſtanding;
as numbers of families, who now live in credit, and
who originally owed their eftablishment to what was
borrowed from that fund, can atteft. From his first.
fetting out in this paffage, we fee how willing the Doc-
tor was to depreciate this noble charity, where he fays,---
"He ſet aſide fome hundreds to be lent in fmall fums
to the poor, from five fhillings, I think, to five pounds."
Some hundreds, may mean two or three hundred; had
he confulted any of his Memoir Writers, he would have
found that the fum was five hundred pounds; and that
it was lent out, not in fmall fums from five fhillings to
five pounds, but from five pounds to ten. And though
the Doctor has guarded his paltry fum of five fhil-
lings,
458
THE LIFE OF
oc
$
Kings, with an-I think-what apology can be made for
conjecture, where certainty was fo eafily to be obtained.
As to the cruelty he is charged with to his poor debs-
ors, whatever report of that fort may have been raifed
in London, it certainly never was heard of in Dublin
but when he adds, that, on this account, The cla-
mour against him was loud, and the refentment of the
populace outrageous"-one cannot help being aftoniſh-
ed at fo confident an affection, against a fact of fuch
public notoriety: for even the worft maligners of the
Dean allow that no man ever poffeffed the love of the
populace to fo high a degree, and it is well known in
Dublin, that no part of his conduct ever gained him
fo much popularity, as this well devifed, well managed
charity. If the Doctor had any authority for this grofs
mifteprefentation, he ought to have produced it; other-
wife the fcandal may be brought home to himfelf
The fcandal not only of attempting to deprive Swift
of the merit of fuch a noble infitation, but by fuch
mifreprefentation, to place his character in a moft odious
light.
But of all the inftances that occur throughout this
work, of the ftrong bias in the Doctor's mind, to place
every thing with regard to Swift in the worft light, no
one is more remarkable than the account he gives of
the forged letters fent to the Queen in the Dean's
name, to be found in the following paffage, where
Speaking of the Queen, he fays,-"I know not whe-
ther ſhe had not, in her turn, fome reafon for com-
plaint. A letter was fent her, not fo much entreating,
as requiring her patronage of Mrs. Barber, an ingenious,
Frishwoman, who was then begging fubfcriptions for
her Poems. To this letter was fubfcribed the name of
Swift, and it has all the appearances of "bis dillion and
fentiments; but it was not written in his hand, and had
fome
DOCTOR
459
SWIFT.
fome little improprieties. When he was charged with
this letter, he laid hold of the inaccuracies, and urged
the improbability of the accufation; but never denied
it: he fhuffles between cowardice and veracity, and
talks big when he fays nothing." In anfwer to which,
I am tempted to lay before the reader Swift's defence
of himſelf, though fet down in a former place, left it
might have eſcaped his obfervation. To a letter from
his friend Pope, inclofing one of thoſe forged ones, he
makes the following reply. "As for thoſe three letters
you mention, fuppofed all to be written by me to the
Queen, on Mrs. Barber's account, eſpecially the letter
which bears my name, I can only fay that the appre-
henfions one may be apt to have of a friend's doing a
foolish thing, is an effect of kindneſs; and God knows
who is free from playing the fool fometime or other.
But in fuch a degree, as to write to the Queen, who
hath uſed me ill without any caufe, and to write in fuch
a manner as the letter you fent me, and in ſuch a ſtyle,
and to have fuch a zeal for one almoſt a ſtranger, and
to make fuch a defcription of a woman, as to prefer
her before all mankind; and to inftance it as one of the
greateſt grievances of Ireland, that her Majefty hath
not encouraged Mrs. Barber, a woollen-draper's wife
declined in the world, becauſe ſhe hath a knack of ver-
fifying; was, to fuppofe, or fear, a folly fo tranfcend-
ent, that no man could be guilty of, who was not fit
for Bedlam. You know the letter you fent inclofed is
not my hand, and why I ſhould diſguiſe, and yet fign
my name, is unaccountable.-If the Queen had not an
inclination to think ill of me, fhe knows me too well
to believe in her own heart that I fhould be fuch a cox-
comb, &c. And in his letter to Mrs. Howard upon
the fame fubject, he thus expreffes himfelf. "I find,
from ſeveral inftances, that I am under the Queen's dif-
3
pleafure;
460
THE LIFE OF
pleaſure; and, as it is ufual among Princes, without
any manner of reafon. I am told there were three let-
ters fent to her Majefty in relation to one Mrs. Barber,
who is now in London, and foliciting for a fubfcription
to her Poems. It feems the Queen thinks that theſe
letters were written by me; and I fcorn to defend my-
felf, even to her Majefty, grounding my fcorn upon the
opinion I had of her juftice, her tafte, and good fenfe:
efpecially when the laft of thofe letters, whereof I have
juſt received the original from Mr. Pope, was figned
with my name: and why I fhould diſguiſe my hand,
which you know very well, and yet write my name, is
both ridiculous and unaccountable." Now, I appeal
to the reader whether it was poffible for a man to have
made a ſtronger defence againſt fuch a charge. Strong-
er indeed than was at all neceffary on the occafion, as
it was foon difcovered to be a trick of fome enemy to
render him ridiculous; and loft all credit at Court, as
we find by an anſwer to the above letter from Lady Suf-
folk, in which fhe raillies the Dean with great fpright-
linefs. "Think of my joy to hear you fufpected of
folly; think of my pleafure when I entered the lift for
your juftification! Indeed I was a little difconcerted to
find Mr. Pope took the fame fide; for I would have had
the man of wit, the dignified divine, the Irish Drapier
have found no friend, but the filly woman and the
Courtier.... Now, to my mortification, I find every
body inclined to think you had no hand in writing theſe
letters."
This impotent attack upon the Dean, we find, was
ftifled in its birth. What ſhall we fay then to the at-
tempt made by Dr. Johnfon to revive it at this diſtance
of time, in order to level him with the loweft of man-
kind, by three grofs imputations, each of which is ut-
terly incompatible with the whole of his character?
5
And
DOCTOR SWIFT.
461
And theſe are, no lefs than folly, falfhood, and cow-
ardice. Folly in the extreme, in fuppofing him to
write fuch letters, as could only reflect difgrace on him.
felf, without any affignable motive for his doing fo:
falfhood of the worst kind, as prevarication is worſe
than lying; and cowardice in not daring to own what
he had done. Who is there that knows any thing of
Swift, his utter abhorrence of every fpecies of falfhood;
his courage to ſpeak the truth in the face of Majefty,
with the fame freedom as before the meaneft fubject;
but muſt be ſhocked at the audacity of the man, who
dared to fay of him,---" He fhuffles between cowardice
and veracity, and talks big when he fays nothing."
The only reafons affigned by the Doctor for his be-
lieving that the letters were really written by Swift, are
thefe.
ft. To this letter was fubfcribed the name of Swift,
and it has all the appearances of his diction and fentiments.
Now I will appeal to any one of tafte acquainted with
Swift's ftyle, whether there ever was a more clumfy
imitation attempted, both with regard to thoughts and
expreffion. It bears indeed as little refemblance to his,
as one of Overton's wooden prints, to the copper-plate
of Hogarth.
ed. When he was charged with this letter, he laid
hold of the inaccuracies, and urged the improbability
of the accufation, but never denied it." That is to fay,
becauſe Swift does not in exprefs terms fay, "I did
not write thoſe letters,"---therefore he does not deny it.
But his indignation at fo baſe a charge was too great to
anſwer it only by a fimple denial; to his friend Pope he
refutes it by fuch forcible arguments, as fhewed the im-
poffibility of his being capable of fuch an egregious
piece of folly, unlefs, as he expreffes it, he were fit for
Bedlam. "To the Queen indeed (as he nobly fays)
1 fcorn
482
THE LIFE OF
I fcorn to defend myfelf; grounding my fcorn upon
the opinion 1 had of her juftice, her tafte, and good
fenfe."
While the Doctor was maliciously endeavouring to
fix the ftain of a bafe prevarication on Swift, he did
not foreſee that the charge-
Would, like a devilish engine, back recoil
Upon himſelf.
MILTON.
For, as it is à received opinion in the world, that men
judge of others by themſelves, there is no one who fees
fo vile an imputation, thrown on fo exalted a charac-
ter, upon fuch bad grounds, but will fuppofe the Doc-
tor capable of acting in that manner himſelf, under
fimilar circumſtances.
It were a tedious buſineſs to follow the Doctor
through many other paffages equally reprehenfible;
but by thoſe which I have already expofed, I have
fhewn how little credit is to be given to the reft. All
candid readers of the other Lives written by this Bio-
grapher, will fee how enviouſly he has endeavoured to
depreciate the Characters, or Works, of men of the
greateſt genius, and to exalt others of little fame. Of
this he has given a remarkable inftance in the very
next Life to that of Swift, which may be confidered as
an antidote to his poifon. What will pofterity fay when
they fee the Life of Savage extended to double the
number of pages occupied by that of Swift? When
they fhall find the Writings of the one, not a line of
which will probably deſcend to them, highly extolled;
and the Works of the immortal Swift, either con
demned, or flightly praiſed? When they fhall fee every
art uſed to palliate the actions of one of the worst of
men, and place his character in the most favourable
light;
DOCTOR SWIFT.
463
light, and all the ingenuity of malice exerted to mil-
reprefent the conduct, and vilify the character of one
of the belt? But whatever pains the Doctor may have
taken in drawing all thefe portraits of our Poets, they
will never be confidered as likeneffes; except his own,
which he has unwarily handed down to future ages, in
fuch strong features, that the refemblance never can be
doubted.
In oppofition to all the maligners of Swift, moft of
whom were fuch-
Ms neither knew his faculties or perfox —SHAKES,
I ſhall oppofe the teftimony of two men, who were of
his intimate acquaintance for more than twenty years,
Dr. Delany, and Dr. Stopford. The first concludes
his anſwer to Lord Orrery in the following manner.
My Lord, when you confider Swift's fingular, pe-
culiar, and moft variegated vein of wit, always in-
tended rightly, although not always rightly directed,
delightful in many inftances, and falutary, even where
it is moſt offenfive; when you confider his ftrict truth,
his fortitude in refifting oppreffion, and arbitrary
power; his fidelity in friend @hip; his fincere love and
zeal for religion; his uprightnefs in making right re-
folutions, and his fteady adherence to them: his care
of his church, its choir, its economy, and its income ±
his attention to all thofe that preached in his Cathedral,
in order to their amendment in pronunciation and ftyle;
as alfo his remarkable attention to the interelt of his
fucceffors, preferably to his own prefent emoluments;
his invincible patriotifm, even to a country which he
did not love; his very various, well-devifed, well
judged, and extenfive charities, throughout his life;
and his whole fortune conveyed to the fame Chriftian
i
purpofes
454
THE LIFE OF
purpoſes at his death: charities, from which he could
enjoy no honour, advantage, or fatisfaction of any
kind, in this world.
When you confider his ironical and humourous, as
well as his ferious fchemes for the promotion of true
religion and virtue; his fuccefs in foliciting for the firſt
fruits and twentieths, to the unspeakable benefit of the
eſtabliſhed Church of Ireland; and his felicity (to rate
it no higher) in giving occafion to the building of
fifty new churches in London.
All this confidered, the character of his Life will
appear
like that of his Writings, they will both bear
to be re-confidered, and re-examined with the utmoſt
attention; and will always difcover new beauties and
excellencies, upon every examination.
They will bear to be confidered as the Sun, in which
the brightneſs will hide the blemishes; and whenever
petulant ignorance, pride, malice, malignity, or envy
interpoſes, to cloud, or fully his fame, I will take up-
on me to pronounce the eclipfe will not last long.
To conclude.-No man ever deferved better of any
country, than Swift did of his. A fteady, perfevering,
inflexible friend: a wife, a watchful, and a faithful
Counſellor under many fevere trials, and bitter perfe-
cutions, to the manifeft hazard both of his liberty and
fortune.
He lived a bleffing, he died a benefactor, and his
name will ever live an honour to Ireland."
The other was written in Latin, by Dr. Stopford,
Biſhop of Cloyne; a man inferior to none of his time
in learning, benevolence, and piety; adorned with all
the qualities that conftitute the fcholar, the gentleman,
and the Chriftian. Swift, on an early acquaintance,
foon diftinguished fo excellent a character, took him
into his confidence, became his patron, and never cea-
fed
DOCTOR SWIFT.
465
fed his good offices till, from a junior fellow the of Col-
lege, he raiſed him to that high rank, fo fuited to his
merit. The good Bishop, who always acknowledged
that he owed every step of his preferment entirely to
Swift, paid the following tribute to the memory of his
deceaſed friend and benefactor.
MEMORIE JONATH. SWIFT, S.
Q
nere.
UEM vivum ex animo coluit, amico liceat mor-
tuum deflere, atque hoc qualicunque fungi mu-
A. C. 1745 Octobris die 19". obiit JONATHAN SWIFT
Decanus Ecclefiæ Cathedralis Sancti Patricii Dublini-
enfis; vixit annos feptuaginta feptem, decem menfes,
19 dies.
Vir ultra quam homini conceffum videtur, maximis
ornatus virtutibus. Vires ingenii mirandæ potius,
quam a quoquam exoptanda; quas exercuit præcipuè
in politicis & poetica.
Incorruptus inter peffimos mores; magni atque con-
ftantis animi; libertatis femper ftudiofiffimus, atq; nof
tri reipublicæ ftatus, a Gothis quondam fapienter infti-
tuti, laudator perpetuus, propugnator acerrimus. Cu-
jus tamen formam, ambitu & largitione adeo fædatam
ut vix nunc dignofci poffit, fæpius indignabundus plo-
rabat.
Patriæ amore flagrans fortem Hiberniæ, quoties de-
Alevit! quoties laboranti fubvenit! Teftis epiftolæ illæ
nunquam interituræ, quibus, infulam miferè labantem,
jamque juga ahenea fubeuntem, erexit, confirmavit;
impiis inimicorum conatibus fortiter infractis, proftratis.
Privatam fi infpicias vitam, cum illo gratias, lepo-
res, fales interiiffe dicas; quibus fuaviffime fermones
conditi,
Hh
1
466
THE LIFE OF
conditi, fummo tamen cum decore, utpote cui unicè
propofitum, quod verum, quod decens, amicis & ci-
vibus fuis affidue commendare.
Nec levior flagitiorum vindex, fraudes, ambitionem,
avaritiam, dictis acerrimè laceravit, exemplo feliciter
oppreffit.
Erga bonos comis, liberalis, pius, commodis ami-
corum anxiè inferviens; pro pauperibus femper follici-
tus; quorum egeſtati in hac urbe mire confuluit, pecu-
niâ mutuo datâ infimis artificum, in ratâ, eâque exigua
portione per feptimanas rependenda, unde multi pau-
pertati jam fuccumbentes, fefe paulatim expedierunt.
Idem, abftinentiæ exemplar antiquum, parcè atq;
duriter rem familiarem adminiſtravit; quafq; fibi inu-
tiles fpernebat opes, fedulo tamen comparatas, domui
hofpitali condendæ, moriens magnifice legavit: ubi
idiotæ & lunatici, collati muneris ignari, piè femper
tractarentur.
Hic vir, tantus, talifque, qui vividis ingenii viribus
longè genus humanum fuperabat, a civibus ingratis diu
neglectus, magnatum invidiam fæpius, gratiam vix un-
quam expertus, triginta duos annos latuit in Hiberniâ,
nullo ultra decanatum infignitus titulo; quod tamen
illi pro votis accidiffe inter amicos conftat, quippe cui
femper in ore erat; Non tam referre, quo genere hono-
rum fis ornatus, quam a quibus & inter quos.
Tandem fenio, atq; intolerandis capitis doloribus
confectus, mente, memoria, fenfu paulatim deficienti-
bus, jamq; penitus extinctis, per quatuor poftremos
vitæ annos, inter moerentes amicos mortuus vixit;
quem tamen omni laude digniffimum ritè confecrant
divina ingenii lumina.
I fhall close my account of this extraordinary man,
with laying open one leading part of his character,
which
DOCTOR SWIFT.
467
which may ferve as a clue to the whole. He was per-
haps the most difinterefted man that ever lived. No
ſelfiſh motive ever influenced any part of his conduct.
He loved virtue for its own fake, and was content it
fhould be its own reward. The means to arrive at
rank, fortune, and fame, the three great objects of
purfuit in other men, though all thrown in his way,
he utterly defpifed, fatisfied with having deferved them.
The fame principle operated equally on the author, as
on the man; as he never put his name to his Works,
nor had any folicitude about them, after they had once
made their appearance in the world. The laft act of
his life fhewed how far he made this a rule of conduct,
in his choice of the charity to which he bequeathed his
fortune; leaving it for the fupport of Idiots and Lu-
natics, beings that could never know their benefactor.
Upon the whole, when we confider his character as
a man, perfectly free from vice, with few frailties, and
fuch exalted virtues; and as an author, poffeffed of
ſuch uncommon talents, fuch an original vein of hu-
mour, fuch an inexhauftible fund of wit, joined to ſo
clear and folid an underſtanding; when we behold theſe
two characters united in one and the fame perfon; per-
haps it will not be thought too bold an affertion, to
fay, that his parallel is not to be found either in the
hiftory of ancient or modern times.
1
THE END.
Hh 2
A Po
APPENDIX.
ANECDOTES
OF THE
FAMILY OF SWIF T.
A FRAGMEN T.
Written by Dr. SWIFT.
The original Manufcript in his own Hand is lodged
in the University Library of DUBLIN.
TH
HE family of the Swifts was ancient in York-
fhire; from them defcended a noted perfon,
who paffed under the name of Cavaliero Swift, a man
of wit and humour. He was made an Irish Peer by
King James or King Charles the First, with the title of
Baron Carlingford, but never was in that kingdom.
Many traditional pleafant ftories are related of him,
which the family planted in Ireland hath received from
their parents. This Lord died without iffue male;
and his heires, whether of the firft or fecond defcent,
was married to Robert Fielding, Efq; commonly called
handfome Fielding; fhe brought him a confiderable
eftate in Yorkshire, which he fquandered away, but
had no children; the Earl of Eglington married ano-
ther coheirefs of the fame family, as he hath often
told me.
Another
THE APPENDIX.
469
Another of the fame family was Sir Edward Swift,
well known in the times of the great rebellion and
ufurpation, but I am ignorant whether he left heirs or
not.
Of the other branch, whereof the greateſt part
fettled in Ireland, the founder was William Swift,
Prebendary of Canterbury, towards the laſt years of
Queen Elifabeth, and during the reign of King James
the Firſt. He was a Divine of fome diftinction: there
is a fermon of his extant, and the title is to be ſeen in
the catalogue of the Bodleian Library, but I never
could get a copy, and I fuppofe it would now be of
little value.
This William married the heirefs of Philpot, I fup-
poſe a Yorkſhire Gentleman, by whom he got a very
confiderable eftate, which however fhe kept in her own
power; I know not by what artifice. She was a ca-
pricious, ill-natured and paffionate woman, of which
I have been told feveral inftances. And it hath been
a continual tradition in the family, that ſhe abſolutely
difinherited her only fon Thomas, for no greater crime
than that of robbing an orchard when he was a boy.
And thus much is certain, that except a church or
chapter leafe, which was not renewed, Thomas never
enjoyed more than one hundred pounds a year, which
was all at Goodrich, in Herefordshire, whereof not
above one half is now in the poffeffion of a great-
great grandfon.
His original picture is now in the hands of Godwin
Swift, of Dublin, Efq; his great grandfon, as well as
that of his wife's, who feems to have a good deal of
the fhrew in her countenance; whofe arms of an
heirefs are joined with his own; and by the laft he
ſeems to have been a perfon fomewhat fantaftick; for
in theſe he gives as his device a dolphin (in thofe days
called
Hh3
470
THE APPENDIX.
called a Swift) twiſted about an anchor, with this
motto, Feftina Lente.
There is likewife a feal with the fame coat of arms
(his not joined with his wife's) which the faid William
commonly made ufe of, and this is alfo now in the pof-
feffion of Godwin Swift above mentioned.
His eldeft fon Thomas feems to have been a Clergy-
man before his father's death. He was Vicar of Good-
rich, in Herefordshire, within a mile or two of Roſs:
he had likewiſe another church living, with about one
hundred pounds a year in land, as I have already men-
tioned. He built a houfe on his own land in the vil-
lage of Goodrich; which, by the architecture, denotes
the builder to have been fomewhat whimfical and fin-
gular, and very much towards a projector. The houſe
is above a hundred years old, and ſtill in good repair,
inhabited by a tenant of the female line, but the land-
lord, a young Gentleman, lives upon his own eſtate in
Ireland.
This Thomas was diftinguifhed by his courage, as
well as his loyalty to King Charles the Firft, and the
fufferings he underwent for that Prince, more than any
perfon of his condition in England. Some hiftorians
of thofe times relate feveral particulars of what he acted,
and what hardships he underwent for the perfon and
caufe of that bleffed martyr'd Prince. He was plun-
dered by the Roundheads fix and thirty times, fome
fay above fifty. He engaged his fimall eftate, and ga-
thered all the money he could get, quilted it in his
waiſtcoat, got off to a town held for the King, where
being asked by the Governor, who knew him well,
what he could do for his Majeſty? Mr. Swift ſaid, he
would give the King his coat, and, ftripping it off,
preſented it to the Governor; who obferving it to be
worth little, Mr. Swift faid, then take my waiſtcoat ;
he
THE APPENDIX.
47
he bid the Governor weigh it in his hand, who ordering
it to be ripped, found it lined with three hundred
broad pieces of gold, which as it proved a ſeaſonable
relief, muſt be allowed an extraordinary fupply from a
private Clergyman with ten children, of a ſmall eſtate,
fo often plundered, and foon after turned out of his
livings in the church.
At another time being informed that three hundred
horfe of the rebel party intended in a week to paſs over
a certain river, upon an attempt againſt the Cavaliers,
Mr. Swift having a head mechanically turned, he con-
trived certain pieces of iron with three fpikes, whereof
one must always be with the point upwards: he placed
them over night in the ford, where he received notice
that the rebels would paſs early the next morning, which
they accordingly did, and loft two hundred of their
men, who were drowned or trod to death by the falling
of their horſes, or torn by the fpikes.
His fons, whereof four were fettled in Ireland (dri-
ven thither by their fufferings, and by the death of their
father) related many other paffages, which they learned
either from their father himſelf, or from what had been
told them by the moſt credible perfons of Hereford-
ſhire, and fome neighbouring counties; and which
fome of thoſe fons often told to their children; many
of which are ftill remembered, but many more for-
got.
He was deprived of both his church livings fooner
than most other loyal Clergymen, upon account of his
fuperior zeal for the King's caufe, and his eftate fequef-
tered. His preferments, at leaſt that of Goodrich,
were given to a fanatical faint, who fcrupled not, how-
ever, to conform upon the Reſtoration, and lived many
years, I think till after the Revolution: I have fcen
many perfons at Goodrich, who knew and told me his
name, which I cannot now remember,
C
H h 4
The
472
THE APPENDIX.
The Lord Treaſurer Oxford told the Dean that he
had among his father's (Sir Edward Harley's) papers,
feveral letters from Mr. Thomas Swift writ in thoſe
times, which he promiſed to give to the grandſon,
whoſe life I am now writing; but never going to his
houſe in Herefordshire while he was Treaſurer, and
the Queen's death happening in three days after his re-
moval, the Dean went to Ireland, and the Earl being
tried for his life, and dying while the Dean was in Ire-
land, he could never get them.
Mr. Thomas Swift died in the year 1658, and in the
63d year of his age: his body lies under the altar at
Goodrich, with a fhort infcription. He died about two
years before the return of King Charles the Second,
who by the recommendation of fome prelates had pro-
miſed, if ever God fhould reſtore him, that he would
promote Mr. Swift in the church, and other ways re-
ward his family, for his extraordinary fervices and zeal,
and perfecutions in the royal caufe; but Mr. Swift's
merit died with himſelf.
He left ten fons and three or four daughters, moſt
of which lived to be men and women: his eldeft fon
Godwin Swift, of the Inner-Temple, Efq; (fo ftiled
by Guillem the herald; in whoſe book the family is de-
fcribed at large) was I think called to the bar before
the Reſtoration. He married a relation of the old
Marchioness of Ormond, and upon that account, as
well as his father's loyalty, the old Duke of Ormond
made him his attorney-general in the palatinate of
Tipperary. He had four wives, one of which, to the
great offence of his family, was coheirefs to Admiral
Deane, who was one of the Regicides. Godwin left
feveral children, who have all eftates. He was an ill-
pleader, but perhaps a little too dexterous in the ſubtle
parts of the law.
The
THE APPENDIX.
473
The ſecond ſon of Mr. Thomas Swift was called by
the fame name, was bred at Oxford, and took orders.
He married the eldest daughter of Sir William D'Ave-
nant, but died young, and left only one fon, who was
alſo called Thomas, and is now Rector of Putenham
in Surry. His widow lived long, was extremely poor,
and in part fupported by the famous Dr. South, who
had been her huſband's intimate friend.
The reft of his fons, as far as I can call to mind,
were Mr. Dryden Swift, called fo after the name of his
mother, who was a near relation to Mr. Dryden the
Poet. William, Jonathan, and Adam, who all lived
and died in Ireland; but none of them left male iffue
except Jonathan, who befide a daughter left one fon,
born ſeven months after his father's death; of whofe
life I intend to write a few memorials.
J. S. D. D. and D. of St. P, was the only fon
of Jonathan Swift, who was the feventh or eighth fon
of Mr. Thomas Swift above mentioned, fo eminent for
his loyalty and his ſufferings.
His father died young, about two years after his mar-
riage; he had fome employments and agencies; his
death was much lamented on account of his reputation
for integrity, with a tolerable good underſtanding.
He married Mrs. Abigail Erick, of Leiceſterſhire,
defcended from the moſt ancient family of the Ericks,
who derive their lineage from Erick the Forefter, a
great commander, who raiſed an army to oppoſe the
invafion of William the Conqueror, by whom he was
vanquished, but afterwards employed to command that
Prince's forces; and in his old age retired to his houſe
in Leiceſterſhire, where his family hath continued ever
fince, but declining every age, and are now in the con-
dition of very private gentlemen.
This marriage was on both fides very indifcreet, for
his wife brought her husband little or no fortune; and
his
474
THE APPENDIX.
his death happening fo fuddenly, before he could make
a fufficient eſtabliſhment for his family, his fon (not
then born) hath often been heard to fay, that he felt
the confequences of that marriage, not only through
the whole courfe of his education, but during the
greateſt part of his life.
He was born in Dublin, on St. Andrew's day; and
when he was a year old, an event happened to him that
ſeems very unuſual; for his nurſe, who was a woman
of Whitehaven, being under an abfolute neceffity of
feeing one of her relations, who was then extremely
fick, and from whom the expected a legacy; and being
extremely fond of the infant, fhe ftole him on fhip-
board unknown to his mother and uncle, and carried
him with her to Whitehaven, where he continued for
almoſt three years. For, when the matter was difco-
vered, his mother fent orders by all means not to ha-
zard a ſecond voyage, till he could be bettter able to
bear it. The nurfe was fo careful of him, that before
he returned he had learnt to fpell; and by the time
that he was five years old, he could read any chapter
in the bible.
After his return to Ireland, he was fent at fix years
years old to the ſchool of Kilkenny, from whence at
fourteen he was admitted into the univerfity at Dublin;
where by the ill treatment of his neareſt relations, he
was fo difcouraged and funk in his fpirits, that he too
much neglected fome parts of his academick ftudies:
for which he had no great reliſh by nature, and turned
himſelf to reading hiftory and poetry; fo that when
the time came for taking his degrees of Batchelor, al-
though he had lived with great regularity and due ob-
fervance of the ftatutes, he was ftopped of his degree
for dulnefs and infufficiency; and at laſt hardly admit-
ted in a manner, little to his credit, which is called in
3
that
THE APPENDIX.
475
that college, fpeciali gratia. And this difcreditable
mark, as I am told, ftands upon record in their college
regiſtery.
The troubles then breaking out, he went to his mo-
ther, who lived in Leiceſter; and after continuing there
fome months, he was received by Sir William Temple,
whoſe father had been a great friend to the family, and
who was now retired to his houſe called Moor-park, near
Farnham in Surry, where he continued for about two
years: for he happened before twenty years old, by a fur-
feit of fruit, to contract a giddineſs and coldneſs of ſto-
mach, that almoft brought him to his grave; and this
diſorder purſued him with intermiffions of two or three
years to the end of his life. Upon this occafion he re-
turned to Ireland, by advice of phyficians, who weakly
imagined that his native air might be of fome uſe to re-
cover his health: but growing worfe, he foon went back
to Sir William Temple; with whom growing into fome
confidence, he was often trufted with matters of great
importance. King William had a high eſteem for Sir
William Temple by a long acquaintance, while that
Gentleman was Ambaffador and Mediator of a general
peace at Nimeguen. The King foon after his expedition
to England, viſited his old friend often at Sheen, and
took his advice in affairs of greatest confequence. But
Sir William Temple, weary of living fo near London,
and refolving to retire to a more private fcene, bought an
eſtate near Farnham in Surry, of about 100l. a year,
where Mr. Swift accompanied him.
About that time a bill was brought into the Houfe of
Commons for Triennial Parliaments; against which, the
King, who was a ftranger to our Conftitution, was very
averſe, by the advice of fome weak people, who perſuaded
the Earl of Portland, that King Charles the First loft his
crown and life by confenting to pafs fuch a bill. The
Earl,
476
THE APPENDIX.
Earl, who was a weak man, came down to Moor-park,
by his Majeſty's orders, to have Sir William Temple's
advice, who faid much to fhew him the mistake. But
he continued ftill to adviſe the King againft paffing the
bill. Whereupon Mr. Swift was fent to Kenfington
with the whole account of that matter in writing, to con-
vince the King and the Earl how ill they were informed.
He told the Earl, to whom he was referred by his Majef
ty (and gave it in writing) that the ruin of King Charles
the Firſt was not owing to his paffing the Triennial Bill,
which did not binder him from diffolving any Parliament,
but to the paffing of another bill, which put it out of
his power to diffolve the Parliament then in being, with-
out the confent of the Houfe. Mr. Swift, who was well
verſed in Engliſh hiftory, although he was then under
twenty-one years old, gave the King a fhort account of
the matter, but a more large one to the Earl of Port-
land; but all in vain; for the King, by ill adviſers, was
prevailed upon to refufe paffing the bill. This was the
first time that Mr. Swift had any converfe with courts,
and he told his friends it was the firft incident that helped
to cure him of vanity. The confequence of this wrong
step in his Majefty was very unhappy; for it put that
Prince under a neceffity of introducing thoſe people cal-
led Whigs into power and employments, in order to pa-
cify them. For, although it be held a part of the King's
prerogative to refufe paffing a bill, yet the learned in the
ław think otherwife, from that expreffion uſed at the co-
ronation, wherein the Prince obligeth himſelf to confent
to all laws, quas vulgus elegerit.
Mr. Swift lived with him (Sir William Temple) ſome
time, but refolving to fettle himſelf in fome way of liv-
ing, was inclined to take orders. However, although
his fortune was very fmall, he had a fcruple of entering
into the church merely for fupport, and Sir William
Templa
THE APPENDIX.
477
Temple then being Maſter of the Rolls in Ireland, offer-
ed him an employ of about 120l. a year in that office;
whereupon Mr. Swift told him, that fince he had now an
opportunity of living without being driven into the church
for a maintenance, he was refolved to go to Ireland and
take holy orders. He was recommended to the Lord
Capel, then Lord Deputy, who gave him a Prebend in
the north, worth about 1col. a year, of which growing
weary in a few months, he returned to England, refigned
his living in favour of a friend, and continued in Sir
William Temple's houfe till the death of that great man,
who befides a legacy, left him the care and truft and ad-
vantage of publiſhing his pofthumous writings.
Upon this event Mr. Swift removed to London, and
applied by petition to King William, upon the claim
of a promiſe his Majefty had made to Sir William Tem-
ple, that he would give Mr. Swift a Prebend of Canter-
bury or Weſtminſter. The Earl of Rumney, who pro-
feffed much friendſhip for him, promiſed to fecond his
petition; but as he was an old, vicious, illiterate rake,
without any fenfe of truth or honour, faid not a word to
the King. And Mr. Swift, after long attendance in vain,
thought it better to comply with an invitation given him
by the Earl of Berkley to attend him to Ireland, as his
Chaplain and private Secretary; his Lordfhip having
been appointed one of the Lords Juftices of that king-
dom. He attended his Lordship, who landed near Wa-
terford, and Mr. Swift acted as Secretary during the
whole journey to Dublin. But another perfon had fo far
infinuated himſelf into the Earl's favour, by telling him
that the poſt of Secretary was not proper for a Clergy-
man, nor would be of any advantage to one, who only
aimed at church preferments; that his Lordſhip, after a
poor apology, gave that office to the other.
In
478
THE APPENDIX.
In ſome months the Deanery of Derry fell vacant, and
it was the Earl of Berkley's turn to difpofe of it. Yet
things were fo ordered, that the Secretary having receiv-
ed a bribe, the Deanery was difpofed of to another, and
Mr. Swift was put off with fome other church-livings not
worth above a third part of that rich Deanery; and at
this prefent not a fixth. The excufe pretended was
his being too young, although he were then thirty
years old.
DR.
DR. SWIFT's
WILL.
N the name of GOD, Amen. I JONATHAN SWIFT,
IND
Doctor in Divinity, and Dean of the Cathedral
Church of St. Patrick, Dublin, being at this preſent of
found mind, although weak in body, do here make my
laft will and teftament, hereby revoking all my former
wills.
Imprimis. I bequeath my foul to God, (in humble
hopes of his mercy through Jefus Chrift) and my body
to the earth. And I defire that my body may be buried
in the great ifle of the faid Cathedral, on the fouth ſide,
under the pillar next to the monument of Primate Nar-
ciffus Marſh, three days after my deceaſe, as privately
as poffible, and at twelve o'clock at night: and, that a
black marble of
feet fquare, and ſeven feet from
the ground, fixed to the wall, may be erected, with the
following infcription in large letters, deeply cut, and
ftrongly gilded. HIC DEPOSITUM EST CORPUS
JONATHAN SWIFT, S. T. D. HUJUS EC-
CLESIÆ CATHEDRALIS DECANI, UBI SÆVA
INDIGNATIO ULTERIUS COR
COR LACERARE
NEQUIT. ABI VIATOR, ET IMITARE, SI
POTERIS, STRENUUM PRO VIRILI LIBERTA-
TIS VINDICATOREM. OBIIT ANNO (1745)
MENSIS (OCTOBRIS) DIE (19) ÆTATIS ANNO
(78).
Item: I give and bequeath to my executors, all my
worldly ſubſtance, of what nature or kind foever (except-
ing fuch part thereof as is herein after particularly de-
vifed) for the following ufes and purpoſes, that is to fay,
to the intent that they, or the furvivors or furvivor of
them, his executors, or adminiftrators, as foon as con-
veniently may be after my death, fhall turn it all into
ready
480
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
ready money, and lay out the fame in purchafing lands
of inheritance in fee-fimple, fituate in any province of
Ireland, except Connaught, but as near to the city of
Dublin, as conveniently can be found, and not incum-
bered with, or fubject to any leafes for lives renewable,
or any terms for years longer than thirty-one: and I de-
fire that a yearly annuity of twenty pounds fterling, out
of the annual profits of fuch lands, when purchafed, and
out of the yearly income of my faid fortune, deviſed to
my executors, as aforefaid, until fuch purchafe fhall be
made, fhall be paid to Rebecca Dingley of the city of
Dublin, ſpinſter, during her life, by two equal half-
yearly payments, on the feafts of All Saints, and St.
Philip and St. Jacob, the firſt payment to be made on
fuch of the ſaid feaſts as fhall happen next after my
death. And that the refidue of the yearly profits of
the faid lands, when purchaſed, and until fuch pur-
chaſe be made, the refidue of the yearly income and
intereft of my faid fortune deviſed as aforefaid, to my exe-
cutors, fhall be laid out in purchafing a piece of land,
fituate near Dr. Steevens's hofpital, or if it cannot be
there had, fomewhere in or near the city of Dublin, large
enough for the purpoſes herein after mentioned, and in
building thereon an hofpital large enough for the reception
of as many Idiots and Lunaticks as the annual income of
the faid lands and worldly fubftance fhall be fufficient to
maintain and, I defire that the faid hofpital may be
called St. Patrick's Hoſpital, and may be built in fuch a
manner, that another building may be added unto it, in
cafe the endowment thereof fhall be enlarged; fo that the
additional building may make the whole edifice regular
and complete. And my further will and defire is, that
when the faid hofpital fhall be built, the whole yearly in-
çome of the faid lands and eftate, fhall, for ever after, be
laid out in providing victuals, cloathings, medicines, at-
tendance,
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
481
tendance, and all other neceffaries for fuch Idiots and Lu-
naticks, as fhall be received into the fame; and in repair-
ing and enlarging the building, from time to time, as
there may be occafion. And, if a fufficient number of
Idiots and Lunaticks cannot readily be found, I defire
that Incurables may be taken into the faid hofpital to
fupply fuch deficiency: but, that no perfon fhall be ad-
mitted into it, that labours under any infectious diſeaſe:
and, that all fuch Idiots, Lunaticks, and Incurables, as
fhall be received into the faid hofpital, fhall conftantly
live and refide therein, as well in the night as in the day;
and that the falaries of agents, receivers, officers, fer-
vants, and attendants, to be employed in the buſineſs of
the faid hofpital, ſhall not in the whole exceed one fifth
part of the clear yearly income, or revenue thereof.
And, I farther defire that my executors, the furvivors or
furvivor of them, or the heirs of fuch, fhall not have
power to demife any part of the faid lands fo to be pur-
chaſed as aforefaid, but with confent of the Lord Primate,
the Lord High Chancellor, the Lord Archbishop of
Dublin, the Dean of Chrift-Church, the Dean of St.
Patrick's, the Phyfician to the State, and the Surgeon-
general, all for the time being, or the greater part of
them, under their hands in writing; and that no leafes
of any part of the faid lands, fhall ever be made other
than leafes for years not exceeding thirty-one, in poffef-
fion, and not in reverfion or remainder, and not difpu-
niſhable of wafte, whereon fhall be referved the beſt and
moſt improved rents, that can reaſonably and moderately,
without racking the tenants, be gotten for the fame,
without fine. Provided always, and it is my will and
earneſt deſire, that no leafe of any part of the faid lands,
fo to be purchaſed as aforefaid, fhall ever be made to, or
in truft for any perfon any way concerned in the execu-
tion of this truft, or to, or in truft for any perfon any
I i
way
483
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
way related or allied, either by confanguinity or affinity,
to any of the perfons who fhall at that time be concerned
in the execution of this truft: and, that if any leafes.
fhall happen to be made contrary to my intention above
expreffed, the fame fhall be utterly void and of no effect.
And, I further defire until the charter herein after men-
tioned be obtained, my executors, or the furvivors or
furvivor of them, his heirs, executors, or adminiſtrators,
fhall not act in the execution of this truft, but with the
confent and approbation of the ſaid ſeven additional truf-
tees, or the greater part of them, under their hands in
writing, and hall, with fuch conſent and approbation as
aforefaid, have power from time to time, to make rules,
orders, and regulations, for the government and direc-
tion of the faid hofpital. And, I make it my requeſt to
my faid executors, that they may in convenient time,
apply to his Majetty for a charter to incorporate them,
or fuch of them as fhall be then living, and the faid ad-
ditional truſtees, for the better management and conduct
of this charity, with a power to purchafe lands; and to
Supply by election, fuch vacancies happening in the cor-
poration, as fhall not be fupplied by fucceffion, and fuch
other powers as may be thought expedient for the due
execution of this truft, according to my intention herein
before expreffed. And, when fuch charter fhall be ob-
tained, I defire that my executors, or the furvivors or
furvivor of them, or the heirs of ſuch ſurvivor, may con-
vey to the ufe of fuch corporation, in fee fimple, for the
purpoſes aforefaid, all fuch lands and tenements, as fhall
be purchaſed in manner above-mentioned. Provided al-
ways, and it is my will and intention, that my executors,
until the faid charter, and afterwards the corporation, to
be hereby incorporated, fhall out of the yearly profits of
the faid lands when purchaſed, and out of the yearly in-
come of my faid fortune devifed to my executors as afore-
+
faid,
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
4.83
faid, until fuch purchaſe be made, have power to reim-
burſe themſelves for all fuch fums of their own money,
as they fhall neceffarily expend in the execution of this
truft. And, that until the faid charter be obtained, all
acts which fhall at any time be done in execution of this
truft by the greater part of my executors then living,
with the conſent of the greater part of the faid additional
truſtees under their hands in writing, fhall be as valid and
effectual, as if all my executors had concurred in the
fame.
Item: Whereas I purchaſed the inheritance of the
tythes of the parish of Effernock, near Trim, in the
county of Meath, for two hundred and fixty pounds fter-
ling; I bequeath the faid tythes to the Vicars of Lara-
cor, for the time being, that is to fay, fo long as the
preſent Epiſcopal Religion fhall continue to be the na-
tional eſtabliſhed faith and profeffion in this kingdom:
but, whenever any other form of Chriftian Religion fhall
become the established faith in this kingdom, I leave the faid
tythes of Effernock to be beſtowed, as the profits come
in, to the poor of the faid parish of Laracor, by a weekly
proportion, and by fuch other officers as may then have
the power of diftributing charities to the poor of the faid
parish, while Chriftianity under any fhape, fhall be tole-
rated among us, ftill excepting profeffed Jews, Atheiſts,
and Infidels.
Item: Whereas I have fome leafes of certain houfes in
Kevin's-ftreet, near the Deanery-houſe, built upon the
Dean's ground, and one other houfe now inhabited by
Henry Land, in Deanery lane, alias Mitre-Alley, fome
of which leafes are let for forty-one years, or forty at
leaſt, and not yet half expired, I bequeath to Mrs. Mar-
tha Whiteway, my leafe or leafes of the faid houſes; I
alſo bequeath to the faid Martha, my leaſe of forty years,
of Goodman's Holding, for which I receive ten pounds
per
I i2
484
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
per annum, which are two houfes, or more lately built;
I bequeath alfo to the faid Martha, the fum of three
hundred pounds fterling, to be paid her by my executors
out of my ready money, or Bank bills, immediately after
my death, as foon as the executors meet. I leave, more-
over, to the faid Martha, my repeating gold watch, my
yellow tortoife-fhell fnuff-box, and her choice of four gold
rings, out of feven which I now poffefs.
Item: I bequeath to Mrs. Mary Swift, alias Harriſon,
daughter of the faid Martha, my plain gold watch made
by Quare, to whom alfo I give my Japan writing defk,
beſtowed to me by my Lady Worfeley, my fquare tor-
toife-ſhell fnuff-box, richly lined and inlaid with gold,
given to me by the Right Honourable Henrietta, now
Countels of Oxford, and the feal with a Pegafus, given
to me by the Countess of Granville.
Item: I bequeath to Mr. Ffolliot Whiteway, eldeſt
fon of the aforefaid Martha, who is bred to be an at-
torney, the fum of fixty pounds, as alſo five pounds to
be laid out in the purchaſe of fuch law books as the
Honourable Mr. Juftice Lyndfay, Mr. Stannard, or Mr.
M'Aulay fhall judge proper for him.
Item: I bequeath to Mr. John Whiteway, youngeſt
fon of the faid Martha, who is to be brought up a furgeon,
the fum of one hundred pounds, in order to qualify him
for a furgeon, but under the direction of his mother;
which faid fum of one hundred pounds is to be paid to
Mrs. Whiteway, in behalf of her faid fon John, out of
the arrears which fhall be due to me from my church
livings (except thofe of the Deanery tythes, which are
now let to the Rev. Doctor Wilfon) as foon as the faid.
arrears can be paid to my executors. I alſo leave the ſaid
John five pounds to be laid out in buying fuch phyſical or
chirurgical books, as Doctor Grattan and Mr. Nichols
fhall think fit for him.
Item:
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
485
每
​Item: I bequeath to Mrs. Ann Ridgway, now in my
family, the profits of the leafe of two houfes let to John
Cownly, for forty years, of which only eight or nine are
expired, for which the faid Cownly payeth me nine pounds
fterling for rent, yearly. I alfo bequeath to the faid Anne,
the fum of one hundred pounds fterling, to be paid her
by my executors in fix weeks after my deceaſe, out of
whatever money or Bank bills I may poffefs when I die:
as also three gold rings, the remainder of the feven above-
mentioned, after Mrs. Whiteway hath made her choice
of four; and all my fmall pieces of plate, not exceeding
in weight one ounce and one third part of an ounce.
Item: I bequeath to my dearest friend Alexander Pope
of Twickenham, Efq; my picture in miniature, drawn by
Zinck, of Robert late Earl of Oxford.
Item: I leave to Edward now Earl of Oxford, my feal
of Julius Cæfar, as alſo another feal, fuppoſed to be a
young Hercules, both very choice antiques, and fet in
gold; both which I chuſe to beſtow to the faid Earl, be-
cauſe they belonged to her late Moft Excellent Majefty
Queen Anne, of ever glorious, immortal, and truly
pious memory, the real nurfing mother of her kingdoms.
Item: I leave to the Reverend Mr. James Stopford,
Vicar of Finglafs, my picture of King Charles the First,
drawn by Vandike, which was given to me by the faid
James; as alfo, my large picture of birds, which was
given to me by Thomas Earl of Pembroke.
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Mr. Robert Grat-
tan, Prebendary of St. Audoen's, my gold bottle ſcrew,
which he gave me, and my ftrong box, on condition of
his giving the fole ufe of the faid box to his brother Dr.
James Grattan, during the life of the faid Doctor, who
hath more occafion for it, and the fecond beſt beaver hat
I fhall die poffeffed of.
Item:
486
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
Item: I bequeath to Mr. John Grattan, Prebendary of
Clonmethan, my filver box in which the Freedom of the
City of Corke was prefented to me; in which I deſire the
faid John to keep the tobacco he ufually cheweth, called
Pigtail.
Item: I bequeath all my horfes and mares to the Re-
verend Mr. John Jackfon, Vicar of Santry, together
with all my horſe furniture: lamenting that I had not
credit enough with any Chief Governor (fince the change
of times) to get fome additional church preferment for fo
virtuous and worthy a gentleman. I alfo leave him my
third best beaver hat.
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Doctor Francis
Wilfon, the Works of Plato in three folio volumes, the
Earl of Clarendon's Hiſtory in three folio volumes, and
my beſt bible; together with thirteen fmall Perfian pic-
tures in the drawing room, and the fmall filver tankard
given to me by the contribution of fome friends, whofe
names are engraved at the bottom of the faid tankard.
Item: I bequeath to the Earl of Orrery the enamelled
filver plates to diftinguiſh bottles of wine by, given to me
by his excellent Lady, and the half-length picture of the
late Countess of Orkney in the drawing-room.
Item: I bequeath to Alexander M'Aulay, Efq; the
gold box in which the Freedom of the City of Dublin
was prefented to me, as a teftimony of the esteem and
love I have for him, on account of his great learning, fine
natural parts, unaffected piety and benevolence, and his
truly honourable zeal in defence of the legal rights of the
Clergy, in oppofition to all their unprovoked oppreffors.
Item: I bequeath to Deane Swift, Efq; my large fil-
ver ftandish, confifting of a large filver plate, an ink pot,
a fand box and bell of the fame metal.
Item: I bequeath to Mrs. Mary Barber, the medal of
Queen Anne and Prince George, which the formerly
gave me.
I
Item:
DR. SWIFT's WILL.
487
Item: I leave to the Reverend Mr. John Worral, my
beft beaver hat.
Item: I bequeath the Reverend Doctor Patrick Delany,
my medal of Queen Anne in filver, and on the reverfe
the Biſhops of England kneeling before her Moft Sacred
Majefty.
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Mr. James King,
Prebendary of Tipper, my large gilded medal of King
Charles the Firſt, and on the reverſe a Crown of Martyr-
dom with other devices. My will, nevertheleſs, is, that
of the above-named Legatees fhould die before me,
that then, and in that cafe, the refpective legacies to
them bequeathed, fhall revert to myfelf, and become
again fubject to my difpofal.
if
any
Item: Whereas I have the leafe of a field in truft for
me, commonly called the Vineyard, let to the Reverend
Doctor Francis Corbet, and the truft declared by the faid
Doctor; the faid field, with fome land on this fide of the
road, making in all about three acres, for which I pay
yearly to the Dean and Chapter of St. Patrick's *
*
**
WHEREAS I have built a ftrong wall round the faid
piece of ground, eight or nine feet high, faced on the
fouth afpect with brick, which coft me above fix hundred
pounds fterling: and, likewiſe, another piece of ground
as aforefaid, of half an acre, adjoining the burial place
called the Cabbage-garden, now tenanted, by William
White, gardener: my will is, that the ground inclofed
by the great wall, may be fold for the remainder of the
leafe, at the higheſt price my executors can get for it,
in belief and hopes, that the faid price will exceed three
hundred pounds at the loweft value: for which my fuc-
ceffor in the Deanery ſhall have the firſt refuſal; and, it is
my earnest defire, that the fucceeding Deans and Chap-
ters may preferve the faid Vineyard and piece of land ad-
joining, where the faid White now liveth, fo as to be al-
ways
488
DR. SWIFT'S WILL
ways in the hands of the fucceeding Deans during their
office, by each Dean leffening one fourth of the purchaſe
money to each fucceeding Dean, and for no more than
the prefent rent.
And I appoint the Honourable Robert Lyndfay, one
of the Judges of the Court of Common-Pleas; Henry
Singleton, Efq; Prime Serjeant to his Majefty; the Re-
verend Doctor Patrick Delany, Chancellor of St. Pa-
trick's; the Reverend Doctor Francis Wilſon, Preben-
dary of Kilmacktolway; Eaton Stannard, Efq; Recorder
of the City of Dublin; the Reverend Mr. Robert Grat-
tan, Prebendary of St. Audoen's; the Reverend Mr.
John Grattan, Prebendary of Clonmethan; the Reverend
Mr. James Stopford, Vicar of Finglass; the Reverend
Mr. James King, Prebendary of Tipper; and, Alexan-
der M'Aulay, Efq; my executors.
In witneſs whereof, I have hereunto fet my hand and
feal, and publiſhed and declared this as my laſt Will and
Teftament, this third day of May, 1740 forty.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
Signed, Sealed and published by the above-named
Jonathan Swift, in Prefence of Us, whe
bave fubfcribed our Names in his Prefence,
Jo. Wynne.
Jo. Rochfort.
William Dunkin.
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