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REMARKS
ON THE
LIFE and WRITINGS
OF
Dr. JONATHAN SWIFT,
Dean of St. PATRICK's, Dublin,
v In a Series of
In a Series of World
Kerbury
L E T T E R S
:
FROM
JOHN Earl of ORRERY
To his SON, the Honourable
H A M I L T ON BOY L E.
ri
Hæc funt quæ noftrâ liceat te voce moneri.
Vade, Age.
VIRG. Æneid. 3. *. 461.
LONDON,
Printed for A. MILLAR, oppoſite to Catharine-
Street in the Strand.
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:
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AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 157
The firſt airy ſubſtance introduced is
ALEXANDER the Great a. After a hint
from GULLIVER, that we have loſt the
true Greek idiom, the conqueror of the
univerſe is made to declare upon his
honour, “ That he died by exceſſive drink-
ing, not by poiſon." A trifling and
an improper obſervation, becauſe the
apparition is called up as he appeared
at the head of his army, juſt after
the battle of Arbella. I own my ex-
pectations were great, when I found
his appearance was to be at ſuch a
remarkable juncture : and I particularly
wiſhed to ſee him properly introduced
after that battle, as the compaſſion and
generoſity which he ſhewed, to the fa-
mily of DARIUS, was highly worthy
of imitation. There are other cir-
cumſtances in the hiſtorical records of
him, that redound to his honour. His
tender regard to PINDAR, by ſparing
Chap. 7. Page 234.
the
3
.
.:
15.8
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
the houſe of that poet (when he raſed
the city of Thebes) ſeems to demand
perpetual gratitude from all fucceeding
bards. The manner in which he viſite
ed the tomb of ACHILLES : the affec-
tion and reſpect paid to him by Ari.
STOTLE : the undaunted confidence pla-
ced in his phyſician Puilip, are in
ſtances fufficient to ſhew, that ALEX-
ANDER did not want ſome virtues of
humanity : and when we conſider ſe-
veral of his raſh actions of inebriety,
they convince us, how far the native
excellencies of the mind may be de-
baſed and changed by paſſions which
too often attend ſucceſs and luxury,
Utcanque defecere mores
Dedecorant benè nata culpa.
}
It is evident, my HAM, that SWIFT
had conceived an abſolute diſguft to
ALEXANDER, whoſe character he aims
to
* " ...,
gesterone
SOM
energet
L E T T E R I.
To the Honourable
HAMILTON BOYLE,
Student of Chrift-Church College
in O X FOR D.
My dear HAMİLTON,
Want no motive to gratify
your requeſt of hearing often
from me, eſpecially as your
letters always give me a par-
ticular pleaſure.
I read them over not
only with the fondneſs of a father, but
with the affection of a friend. They re-
vive in my mind, the agreeable hours
which attend a ſtudious life, in that
elegant ſeat of the muſes, from whence
they are dated. In ſuch a ſituation;
amidſt the beſt authors, and in a free
B
conver-
2
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
converfation with men of letters, you
will be able to adorn your mind, and
give it a ſerene and a juft way of think-
ing: And I ſhall have the happineſs not
only of ſeeing you forming yourſelf every
day for public life, but rendered more
capable of exerting your faculties, with
dignity and advantage to your country,
and with a riſing reputation to yourſelf.
For my own part, early diſappoint-
ments, the perplexed ſtate of my affairs,
an indifferent ſtate of health, and many
untoward incidents, all contributed to
make me, even in my earlieſt part of
life, too fond of retirement. Years have
encreaſed the inclination, and time
rather confirms, than corrects the error ;
however, I have not ſuffered my mind
to be totally inactive : but, by having as
little connection as poſſible with the
living, I have employed myſelf in con-
verſing, and forming an acquaintance
with the dead : and have from thence
received more real ſatisfaction and im-
provement,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
3
provement, than poſſibly might have at-
tended me, had I been directed in the
purſuit of fame, fortune, or ambition.
I am much pleaſed that you approve
of my obſervations on Pliny's letters.
I engaged in that work, with a deſign
of pointing out, to your brother Lord
Boyle, the amiable qualities of that
elegant Roman. But I cannot reſt ſatiſ-
fied unleſs I offer to you alſo, ſome
public token of my paternal affection :
and therefore, I have lately been ex-
amining the works of Dr. Swift, with
an intention of gathering materials for
my future correſpondence with you: and
here, my dear HAMILTON, I dedicate to
you, thoſe criticiſms which have occur-
red to me; and ſhall mix with them
ſuch particulars of his life and character,
as I flatter myſelf, may tend at leaſt to
your entertainment, if not to your im-
provement.
Let me begin by giving you a ſhort
but general view of Swift's character.
B 2
He
4
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
an
He was in the decline of life when I
knew him. His friendſhip was
honour to me, and to ſay the truth,
I have even drawn advantage from his
errors.
I have beheld him in all hu-
mours and diſpoſitions, and I have form-
ed various ſpeculations from the ſeveral
weakneſſes, to which I obſerved him
liable. His capacity and ſtrength of
mind were undoubtedly equal to any
taſk whatever. His pride, his fpirit, or
his ambition, call it by what name you
pleaſe, was boundleſs : but, his views
were checked in his younger years, and
the anxiety of that diſappointment had
a viſible effect upon all his actions. He
was four and ſevere, but not abfolutely
ill-natured He was fociable only to
particular friends, and to them only at
particular hours. He knew politeneſs
more than he practiſed it.
He was a
mixture of avarice, and generoſity: the
former, was frequently prevalent, the
latter, feldom appeared, unleſs excited
by
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 5
by compaſſion. He was open to adu-
lation, and could not, or would not di-
ſtinguiſh between low flattery, and juſt
applauſe. His abilities rendered him
ſuperiour to envy. He was undiſguiſed
and perfectly ſincere. I am induced to
think, that he entered into orders, more
from ſome private and fixed reſolution,
than from abſolute choice : be that as it
may, he performed the duties of the
church with great punctuality, and a
decent degree of devotion. He read
prayers rather in a ſtrong nervous voice,
than in a graceful manner: and altho?
he has been often accuſed of irreligion,
nothing of that kind appeared in his
converſation or behaviour. His caſt of
mind induced him to think, and ſpeak
more of politics than of religion. His
perpetual views were directed towards
power : and his chief aim was to be re-
moved into England: but when he found
himſelf entirely diſappointed, he turned
his thoughts to oppoſition, and became
the
B 3
6
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
the patron of Ireland, in which country
he was born. Here it may not be im-
proper to obſerve to you, that many of
his friends imagined him a native of
England, and many others, I know not
whether to call them friends or enemies,
were willing to ſuppoſe him the natural
ſon of Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE. Neither
of theſe facts are true. He was born in
Dublin, November the thirtieth, in the
year fixteen hundred and fixty ſeven,
and was carried into England ſoon after
his birth, by his nurſe, who being
obliged to croſs the ſea, and having a
nurſe's fondneſs for the child at her
breaſt; conveyed him on ſhip-board,
without the knowledge of his mother
or relations, and kept him with her at
Whitehaven in Cumberland, during her
reſidence three
years at that place. This
extraordinary event made his return ſeem
as if he had been tranſplanted to Ireland,
rather than that he had owed his origi,
nal exiſtence to that ſoil, But perhaps,
he
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
7
he tacitly hoped to inſpire different na-
tions with a contention for his birth : at
leaſt in his angry moods, when he was
peeviſh, and provoked at the ingratitude
of Ireland, he was frequently heard to
ſay, “ I am not of this vile country, I
am an Engliſhman.” Such an aſ-
ſertion, although meant figuratively, was
often received literally: and the report
was ſtill farther aſſiſted by Mr. POPE,
who in one of his letters has this ex-
preſſion, « Tho one or two of our
friends are gone, ſince you ſaw your
“ native country, there remain a few, ""
But Dr. Swift, in his cooler hours,
never denied his country: on the con-
trary, he frequently mentioned, and
pointed out the houſe where he was
born. The other ſuggeſtion concerning
the illegitimacy of his birth, is equally
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE was em-
ployed as a miniſter abroad from the
Letter LXXX. Mr. Pope to Dr. Swift,
Marcb 23, 1736-7.
B4
year
falſe.
8 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
year fixteen hundred and fixty five, to
the year fixteen hundred and ſeventy :
firſt at Bruſels, and afterwards at the
Hague, as you will find by his correſpon-
dence .with the Earl of Arlington, and
other miniſters of ſtate: fo that Dr.
Swift's mother, who never croſſed the
ſea, except from England to Ireland, was
out of all poſſibility of a perſonal corre-
ſpondence with Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE,
till ſome years after her ſon's birth.
: I have already mentioned to you the
exact place, and date of Doctor Swift's
nativity, but the rules of biography make
it neceſſary to give you ſome account of
his family. It ſhall be as ſhort as poſſi-
ble, ſince, although his anceſtors were
perſons of very decent, and reputable
characters, he himſelf has been the he-
rald to blazon the dignity of their coat.
His grandfather was the Reverend Mr.
THOMAS SWIFT, Vicar of Goodridge near
Roſs în Herefordſhire. He enjoyed a pa-
ternal eſtate in that County, which is
ſtill
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
9
ftill in poſſeſſion of his great grandſon
DEANE Swift, Eſq; He died in the year
fixteen hundred and fifty eight, leaving
fix ſons, GODWIN, THOMAS, DRYDEN,
WILLIAM, JONATHAN and Adam. Two
of them only, Godwin and JONATHAN,
left fons. The deſcendants of GODWIN
are mentioned in GUILLIM's heraldry.
JONATHAN married Mrs. ABIGAIL
Erick of Leiceſterſhire, by whom he had
one daughter and a ſon. The daughter.
was born in the firſt year of Mr. Swift's
marriage ; but he lived not to ſee the
birth of his ſon, who was called JONA-
THAN, in memory of his Father, and
became afterwards the famous Dean of
St. Patrick's.
The greateſt part of Mr. JONATHAN
Swift's income had depended upon
agencies, and other employments of that
kind: ſo that moſt of his fortune periſhed
with him: and the remainder being the
a Doctor Swift was born two months after his
father's death.
only
10
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
only ſupport that his widow could enjoy,
the care, tuition, and expence of her
two children devolved upon her huſband's
elder brother, Mr. Godwin Swift, who
voluntarily became their guardian, and
ſupplied the loſs which they had ſuſtained
in a father. Mrs. Swift, about two
years
after her huſband's death, quitted
Ireland, and retired to Leiceſter, the place
of her nativity.
The faculties of the mind, appear and
ſhine forth at different ages, in different
men. The infancy of Doctor Swift
paſſed on without any marks of diſtinc-
At ſix years old, he was ſent to
ſchool at Kilkenny, and about eight years
afterwards, he was entered a ſtudent of
Trinity College in Dublin. He lived there
in perfect regularity, and under an entire
obedience to the ſtatutes: but the mo-
roſeneſs of his temper, often rendered
him very unacceptable to his companions;
ſo that he was little regarded, and leſs
beloved. Nor were the academical exer-
tion.
ciſes
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
II
ciſes agreeable to his genius. He held
logic and metaphyſics in the utmoſt con-
tempt, and he ſcarce confidered mathe-
matics and natural philoſophy, unleſs to
turn them into ridicule. The ſtudies
which he followed were hiſtory and poe-
try. In theſe he made a great progreſs ;
but to all other branches of ſcience he
had given ſo very little application, that
when he appeared as a candidate for the
degree of Batchelor of Arts, he was ſet
aſide on account of inſufficiency.
You will be ſurpriſed at ſuch an inci-
dent in his life : but the fact was un-
doubtedly true : and even at laſt he ob-
tained his admiſſion Speciali gratiâ : a
phraſe which in that Univerſity carries
with it the utmoſt marks of reproach.
It is a kind of diſhonourable degree, and
the record of it, notwithſtanding Dr.
Swift's preſent eſtabliſhed character
throughout the learned world, muſt for
ever remain againſt him in the academi-
cal regiſter at Dublin.
Ambi-
12
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Ambition, you will agree with me,
could ſcarce have met with a ſeverer
blow. HERCULES found himſelf ſet aſide
for want of ſtrength; or, if admitted
among the wreſtlers, admitted only by
favour and indulgence ; yet ſtill he muſt
be conſcious, that he was HERCULES.
Diſappointments, the earlier they hap-
pen in life, the deeper impreſſion they
make upon the heart. Swift was full
of indignation at the treatment which
he had received in Ireland, and therefore
reſolved to purſue his ſtudies at Oxford.
However, that he might be admitted ad
eundem, he was obliged to carry with
him the Teſtimonium of his Degree.
The expreſſion ſpeciali gratia is ſo pe-
culiar to the Univerſity of Dublin, that
when Mr. SwIFT exhibited his Teſtimo-
nial at Oxford, the members of the
Engliſh Univerſity concluded, that the
words ſpeciali gratiâ muſt ſignify a degree
conferred in reward of extraordinary
diligence, or learning. You may ima,
gine,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
13
gine, he did not try to undeceive them.
He was immediately admitted ad eundem,
and choſe to enter himſelf of Hart Hall,
now Hartford College, where he conſtantly
reſided (ſome viſits to his mother at
Leiceſter, and to Sir WilLIAM TEMPLE
at Moore Park excepted) till he took
his degree as Maſter of Arts, which, if
I remember rightly, was in the year
ninety one.
Having attended my friend Swift
thus far in his road of life, let me reſt a
little before I proceed farther with him
in the journey, and let me deſire you
to keep this letter, as I intend that it
ſhall be followed hereafter by others of
the ſame fort, and relating to the ſame
perſon.
I am, my deareſt HAMILTON,
your affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
LE T-
14
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
I am
L E T T E R II.
am happy, my dear HAMILTON, to
find that the taſk, which I have un-
dertaken of placing together ſome me-
moirs of Dr. Swift's life, will be an
acceptable preſent to you. In my laſt
letter, you may remember, that I con-
ducted Dr. Swift from his birth, in
the year ſixteen hundred and fixty ſeven,
to his taking his degree of Maſter of
Arts at Oxford, in the year fixteen hun-
dred and ninety one. Curioſity may in-
duce you to know, in what manner he
could ſubſiſt, or by what channel the
ſprings of his revenue were ſupplied, at
a time when both kingdoms, but parti-
cularly Ireland, were in great confuſion.
You will almoſt tremble for him, when
I tell you, that
that in the year of the
Revolution, his uncle Godwin SWIFT
had fallen into a kind of lethargy, or
dotage,
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 15
dotage, which deprived him by degrees
of his ſpeech and memory; and rendered
him totally incapable of being of the
leaſt ſervice to his family and friends.
But, in the midſt of this diſtreſsful ſitu-
ation, as if it was ordained, that no
incident ſhould bereave mankind of ſuch
a genius, Sir William TEMPLE (whoſe
Lady was related to Dr. Swift's mo-
ther) moſt generouſly ſtept in to his
aſſiſtance, and avowedly ſupported his
education at the Univerſity of Oxford.
Acts of generoſity ſeldom meet with their
juſt applauſe: Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE's
friendſhip was immediately conſtrued to
proceed from a conſciouſneſs, that he
was the real father of Mr. SWIFT, O-
therwiſe it was thought impoſſible, that
he could be ſo uncommonly munificent
to a young man, no ways related to
him, and but diſtantly related to his
wife. I am not quite certain, that
Swift himſelf did not acquieſce in the
calumny. Perhaps, like ALEXANDER,
he
16 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
he thought the natural ſon of JUPITER
would
appear greater than the legitimate
fon of PHILIP.
But I muſt not omit to tell you, that
another of his father's brothers, W1l-
LIAM Swift, aſſiſted him when at Ox-
ford, by repeated acts of friendſhip and
affection. I have a letter now before
me, which, tho' torn, and imperfect in
ſeveral places, ſhews his gratitude and
devotion to the uncle, whom I have juſt
now mentioned, and whom he calls the
beſt of his relations. I will tranſcribe this
epiſtolary fragment, fince at leaſt it is
ſo far curious, as it gives us a ſpecimen
of Swift's manner of writing and think-
ing, at that period of his life.
SIR
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. in
Moore Park, Nov. 29, 1692.
SIR,
Mr fifter told me, you was pleaſed (when
he was here) to wonder, I did fo fela
dom write to you. I
been
ſo kind, to impute it neither to ill mann
reſpect. I always
thought that ſufficient from one,
who
has always been but too troubleſome to you:
bendes I knew your averfion to impertinence,
and God knows ſo very private a life as mine
can furniſh a letter with little elſe : for 1
often am two or three months without ſeeing
any body beſides the family, and now my hfter
is gore, I am likely to be more folitary than
before. I am ſtill to thank you for your care
in my Teſtimonium, and it was to very good
purpoſe, for I never was more ſatisfied than
in the behaviour of the Univer hity of Oxford
I bad all the civilities I could wiſh
for, and ſo many
favours, that
I am aſhamed to have been more obliged in a
fewo weeks to ſtrangers, than ever I was in
ſeven years to Dublin College. I am not
to take orders till the King gives me a Prebens
dary: and Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE, tho'
be
to me.
Ć
18
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
to him
he promiſes me the certainty of it, yet is leſs
forward than- I could wiſh; becauſe, I fup-
poſe, he believes I ſhall leave him, and upon
ſome accounts, he thinks me, a little neceſary
If I were
entertainment, or doing you any
ſatisfaction by my letters, I should be very
glad to perform it that way, as I am bound
to do it by all others. I am ſorry my for-
tune Mould fling me ſo far from the beſt of
my relations, but hope that I ſhall have the
happineſs to ſee you ſome tiine or other. Pray
my humble ſervice to my good aunt, and the
reſt of my relations, if you pleaſe.
You do not ſee in theſe few lines, the
leaſt ſymptoms of that peculiar turn of
phraſe, which afterwards appeared in all
his: writings ; even in his moſt trifling
letters. Neither his learning, nor his
genius were yet arrived to any degree
of ripeneſs. Or perhaps the letter was
rather the effect of duty than inclina-
tion, and in that caſe, the ſtyle of it
muſt be illaborate; and 'void of all
freedom and vivacity. It is dated from
Moore
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 19
Moore Park, near Farnbam in Surry,
where Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE then
reſided.
SWIFT, as ſoon as he had quitted the
Univerſity of Oxford, lived with Sir Wil-
LIAM TEMPLE as his friend, and domeſ-
tic companion. When he had been
about two years at Moore Park, he con-
tracted a very long and dangerous illneſs,
by eating an immoderate quantity of
fruit. Tothis ſurfeit I have often heard him
aſcribe that giddineſs in his head, which
with intermiſſions ſometimes of a longer, it!
and ſometimes of a ſhorter continuance,
purſued him till it ſeemed to compleat
its conqueſt, by rendering him the exact
image of one of his own Struldbrugg's,
a miſerable ſpectacle, devoid of every
appearance of human nature, except the
outward form.
In compliance to the advice of his
phyſicians, when he was ſufficiently re-
covered to travel, he went into Ireland,
to try the effects of his native air: and
C 2
he
20
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
LIAM.
he found ſo much benefit by the journey,
that in compliance to his own inclina-
tions, he ſoon returned into England, and
was again moſt affectionately received by
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE, who had now
left Moore Park, and was ſettled at Sheene,
where he was often viſited by King Wil-
Here Swift had frequent op-
portunities of converſing with that
Prince ; in ſome of which converſations,
the King offered to make him a captain
of horſe: an offer, which, in ſplenetic
diſpoſitions, he always ſeemed ſorry to
have refuſed; but at that time, he had
reſolved, within his own mind, to take
orders, and during his whole life, his
reſolutions, like the decrees of fate, were
immovable. Thus determined, he again
went over into Ireland, and immediately
enlifted himſelf under the banner of the
Church. He was recommended by Sir
WILLIAM TEMPLE to Lord CAPEL, then
Lord Deputy, who gave him the firſt
vacancy, a prebend, of which the income
was
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 21
was about an hundred pounds a year.
Swift foon grew weary of this prefer-
ment: it was not ſufficiently conſidera-
ble, and was at ſo great a diſtance from
the metropolis, that it abſolutely de-
prived him from that kind of converſa-
tion and ſociety, in which he delighted.
He had been uſed to very different ſcenes
in England, and had naturally an averſion
to ſolitude and retirement. He was glad
therefore, to reſign his prebend in fa-
vour of a friend, and to return to
Sheene, where he lived domeſtically as
uſual, till the death of Sir WILLIAM
Temple, who, beſides a legacy in money,
left to him the care, and truſt of pub-
liſhing his poſthumous works.
As during my friend Swift's refi-
dence with Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE, he
became intimately acquainted with a
Lady, whom he has diſtinguiſhed, and
often celebrated in his works, under the
name of STELLA; I cannot think, my
HẠM, that it will be improper, to give
you
C 3
22
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
you at once her hiſtory, although, ac-
cording to the rules of biography, I
ought perhaps to have delayed the ac-
count, till we arrived at that period of
his life, when he married her : but as I
may have occaſion to ſpeak of her in
various parts of Swift's works, and as
his manner of living with her will ſhew
you, how much he deviated from the
common order of men, I ſhall fill up
the reſt of my letter with her extraordi-
nary ſtory.
Stella's real name was Johnson,
She was the daughter of Sir WILLIAM
TEMPLE's ſteward, and the concealed,
but undoubted wife of Dr. Swift,
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE bequeathed her
in his will one thouſand pounds, as an
acknowledgment of her father's faithful
fèrvices.
I cannot tell, how long ſhe
remained in England, or whether ſhe
made more journeys than one to Ireland
after Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE's death;
þut if my informations are right, the
was
AND WRITINGS OF. DR. SWIFT.
23
was married to Dr. Swift in the year
ſeventeen hundred and fixteen, by Dr.
Ashe then biſhop of Clogher.
STELLA, was a moſt amiable woman
in mind, and perſon. She had an ele-
vated underſtanding, with all the de-
licacy and ſoftneſs of her own ſex. Her
voice, however ſweet in itſelf, was ſtill
rendered more harmonious by what ſhe
ſaid.
Her wit was poignant without
ſeverity. Her manners were humane,
polite, eaſy, and unreſerved. Where-
ever ſhe came the attracted attention
and eſteem. As virtue was her guide in
morality, fincerity was her guide in re-
ligion. She was conſtant, but
but not
oftentatious in her devotions. She was
remarkably prudent in her converſation.
She had great ſkill in muſic, and was
perfectly well verſed in all the leſſer arts
that employ a lady's leiſure. Her wit
allowed her a fund of perpetual chear-
fullneſs: her prudence kept that chear-
fullneſs within proper limits. She ex-
actly
C4
24
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
actly anſwered the deſcription of PE-
NELOPE in HOMER.
A woman lovelieſt of the lovely kind,
In body perfect, and compleat in mind.
Such was STELLA : yet with all theſe
accompliſhments ſhe never could prevail
upon Dr. Swift to acknowledge her
openly as his wife. A great genius muſt
tread in unbeaten paths, and deviate
from the common road of life: other-
wiſę, ſurely a diamond of ſo much luſtre
might have been publicly produced, al-
though it had been fixed within the
collet of matrimony: þut, the flaw,
which in Dr. Swift's eye reduced the
value of ſuch a jewel, was the ſervile
ftate of her father, who, as has been
ſaid before, was a menial ſervant to
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE, Ambition and
pride will, at any time, conquer reaſon
and juſtice, and each larger degree of
pride, like the larger fiſhes of prey, will
devour all the leſs: thus the vanity of
þoaſting
4
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 25
boaſting ſuch a wife was ſuppreſſed by
the greater vanity of keeping free from
a low alliance,
Dr. Swift and Mrs. JOHNSON con-
tinued the ſame economy of life after
marriage, which they had purſued before
it
They lived in ſeparate houſes ; he
remaining at the deanery, ſhe, in lodg-
ings at a diſtance from him, and on the
other ſide of the river Liffy. Nothing
appeared in their behaviour inconſiſtent
with decorum, or beyond the limits
of platonic love. They converſed like
friends, but they induſtriouſly took care,
to ſummon witneſſes of their conver-
ſation : a rule to which they adhered ſo
ftrictly, that it would be difficult, if not
impoſſible, to prove they had ever been
together without ſome third perſon.
A conduct ſo extraordinary in itſelf
always gives room for various com-
ments and reflexions : but, however un-
accountable this renunciation of mar-
piage rites might appear to the world,
it
26 REMARKS ON THE LIFE !
it certainly aroſe not from any conſciouf-
neſs of too near a conſanguinity between
him and Mrs. JOHNSON, although the
general voice of fame was willing to
make them both, the natural children
of Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE. I am per-
ſuaded, that Dr. Swift was not of that
opinion; becauſe, the ſame falſe pride
that induced him to deny the legitimate
daughter of an obſcure ſervant, might
have prompted him to own the natural
daughter of ſo eminent a man as Sir
WILLIAM TEMPLE. There are actions
of which the true ſources will never be
diſcovered. This perhaps is one. I have
told you the fact, in the manner I have
received it from ſeveral of Swift's friends
and relations, and I muſt leave you to
make your own obſervations
upon
a it.
You may imagine, that a woman of
STELLA's delicacy muſt-repine at ſuch
an extraordinary ſituation. The out-
ward honours, which ſhe received, are as
frequently beſtowed upon a miſtreſs, as
2
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 24
"
a wife. She was abſolutely virtuous,
and yet was obliged to ſubmit to all the
appearances of vice, except in the pre-
fence of thoſe few people, who were wit-
neſſes of the cautious manner in which
The lived with her huſband, who ſcorn-
ed, my HAMILTON, even to be married
like
any
other man.
Inward anxiety affected by degrees the
calmneſs of her mind, and the ſtrength
of her body. She began to decline in
her health in the year ſeventeen hundred
and twenty four, and from the firſt
ſymptoms of decay, ſhe rather haftened,
than ſhrunk back in the deſcent: tacitly
pleaſed, to find her footſteps tending to
that place, where they neither marry, not
are given in marriage She died towards
the end of Yanuary, ſeventeen hundred
and twenty ſeven, or eight, abſolutely
deſtroyed by the peculiarity of her fate :
a fate, which perhaps ſhe could not
have incurred by an alliance with any
other perfon in the world.
My
28
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
My paper, my time, and every cir-
cumſtance, put me in mind of aſſuring
you, my dear HAMILTON, that I am,
Your moſt affectionate Father,
ORR ER Y.
乾 ​*****************************
LE T T E R III.
I Join with your entirely in thinking
STELLA one of the moſt unfortunate
of her fex. Her cataſtrophe was ſuch
as might have drawn pity from a breaſt
leſs ſuſceptible of that paſſion than
yours,
Injurious treatment, diſappointed love,
a long lingering illneſs, were all circum-
ſtances of the melancholy kind. Be
not ſurprized, my HAMILTON, when
I tell you, that he never ſpoke of her
without a figh: for ſuch is the perverſ-
neſs of human nature, that we bewail
thoſe perſons dead, whom we treated
cruelly when living. But, I am making
reflexions,
ia
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 29
reflexions, when I intended to write me-
moirs. Let us return to Swift.
Upon the death of Sir WilLIAM
TEMPLE he came to London, and took
the earlieſt opportunity of delivering a
petition to King WILLIAM, under the
claim of a promiſe made by his Majeſty
to Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE, " That Mr.
« Swift ſhould have the firſt vacancy,
“ which might happen among the pre-
“ bends of Weſtminſter or Canterbury,”
The promiſes of kings are often a kind
of chaff, which the breath of a miniſter
bloweth, and ſcattereth away from the
face of a court. The petition had no
effect. It was either totally forgotten,
or drowned amidſt the clamours of more
urgent claims.
From this firſt diſap-
pointment, may probably be dated that
bitterneſs towards kings, and courtiers,
which is to be found ſo univerſally diſ-
perſed throughout his works.
After a long and fruitleſs attendance
at Whitehall, Swift reluctantly gave up
all
30
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
all thoughts of a ſettlement in England.
He had dedicated Sir WILLIAM TEM-
PLE's works to the King. The dedi-
cation was neglected, nor did his Ma-
jeſty take the leaſt notice of him after
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE's death. What
then was to be done! honour, or to
uſe a properer word, pride hindered
him from ſtaying long in a ſtate of fer-
vility and contempt. He complied there-
fore with an invitation from the Earl of
BERKLEY (appointed one of the Lords
Juſtices in Ireland) to attend him as his
chaplain, and private fegretary. Lord
BERKLEY landed near Waterford, and
Mr. SWIFT acted as ſecretary during
the whole journey to Dublin. But
another of Lord BERKLEY's attendants,
whoſe name was Bush, had, by this
time, inſinuated himſelf into the Earl's
favour, and had whiſpered to his Lord-
ſhip, that the poſt of fecretary was not
proper for a clergyman, to whom only
church preferments could be ſuitable or
advantageous.
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 31
advantageous. Lord BERKLEY liſtened
perhaps too attentively to theſe inſinua-
tions, and making ſome Night apology
to Mr. Swift, diveſted him of that of-
fice, and beſtowed it upon Mr. Bush.
Here again was another diſappointment,
and a freſh object of indignation. The
treatment was thought injurious, and
Swift expreſſed his fenfibility of it in a
mort, but ſatyrical copy of verſes enti-
ded The Diſcovery.
However, during the government of
the Earls of BERKLEY and GALWAY,
who were jointly Lords Juſtices of
Ireland, two livings, Laracor and Rath
beggan, were beſtowed upon Mr. Swift.
The firſt of theſe rectories was worth
about two hundred, and the latter about
ſixty pounds a year, and they were the
only church preferments that he enjoyed
'till he was appointed Dean of St. Pa-
trick's, in the year feventeen hundred
and thirteen.
As ſoon as he had taken poffeffion of
his
32
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
his two livings, he went to reſide at Las
racor, and gave public notice to his ра.
riſhioners, that he would read
prayers on
every Wedneſday and Friday. Upon
the ſubſequent Wedneſday the bell was
rung, and the Rector attended in his
deſk, when after having ſat ſome time,
and finding the congregation to conſiſt
only of himſelf, and his clerk ROGER,
he began with great compoſure and
gravity, but with a turn peculiar to
himſelf, Dearly beloved ROGER, the
fcripture moveth you and me in fundry
“ places.” And then proceeded regu.
larly through the whole ſervice. I mon-
tion this trifling circumſtance only to
ſhew you, that he could not reſiſt a vein
of humour whenever he had an oppor-
tunity of exerting it.
As I have given you a particular ex-
ample of his humour, let me give you a
particular inſtance of his pride : eſpe-
cially as it comes in properly enough in
point of time.
Whilft
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 33
Whilſt Swift was chaplain to Lord
BERKLEY, his only fiſter, by the conſent
and approbation of her uncles and rela-
tions, was married to a man in trade,
whoſe fortune, character, and ſituation,
were eſteemed, by all her friends, ſuit-
able for her in every reſpect. But, the
marriage was entirely diſagreeable to her
brother It ſeemed to interrupt thoſe
ambitious views, which he had long
ſince formed : He grew outragious at the
thoughts of being brother-in-law to a
tradeſman. He utterly refuſed all recon-
ciliation with his fifter, nor ever would
liſten to the entreaties of his mother,
who came over to Ireland, under almoſt
a certainty of pacifying his anger, ha-
ving, in all other reſpects, ever found
him a dutiful, and an obedient fon :
but his pride was not to be conquered,
and Mrs. Swift finding her ſon inflexi-
ble, haſtened back to Leiceſter, where
ſhe continued till her death.
D
During
34
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
During his mother's life time, he
ſcarce ever failed to pay her an annual
viſit. But his manner of travelling was
as ſingular as any other of his actions.
He often went in a waggon, but more
frequently walked from Holyhead to Lei-
ceſter, London, or any other part of Eng-
land. He generally choſe to dine with
waggoners, hoſtlers, and perſons of
that rank; and he uſed to lye at night
in houſes where he found written over
the door Lodgings for a penny. He de-
lighted in ſcenes of low life. The vulgar
dialect was not only a fund of humour
for him, but I verily believe was accept-
able to his nature ; otherwife I know
not how to account for the many filthy
ideas, and indecent expreſſions (I mean
indecent in point of cleanlineſs and deli-
cacy) that will be found throughout his
works.
I need not tell you, that a ftri&t refi-
dence at Laracor, was not in the leaſt
fuitable to his diſpoſition. He was per-
petually
3
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 35
petually making excurfions not only to
Dublin, and other parts of Ireland, but
into England, eſpecially to London. So
rambling a difpofition, occaſioned to
him a conſiderable loſs. The rich dean-
ery of Derry became vacant at this time,
and was intended for him by Lord BERK-
Ley, if Dr. King, then Biſhop of Derry,
and afterwards Archbiſhop of Dublin,
had not interpoſed : entreating with
great earneſtneſs, that the deanery might
be given to ſome grave and elderly Di-
vine, rather than to ſo young a man ;
“ becauſe (added the Biſhop) the ſitua-
« tion of Derry is in the midſt of preſby-
“ terians, and I ſhould be glad of a
“ clergyman, who could be of affiſtance
e to me. I have no objection to Mr.
“ Swift. I know him to be a ſprightly
« ingenious young man; but inſtead of
refiding, I dare ſay, he will be eter-
nally flying backwards and forwards
to London, and therefore I entreat, that
D 2
he
36
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
" he may be provided for in ſome other
place."
SWIFT was accordingly ſet aſide on
account of youth, but, as if his ſtars had
deſtined to him a parallel revenge, he
lived to ſee the Biſhop of Derry after-
wards ſet aſide on account of
age.
That
Prelate had been Archbiſhop of Dublin
many years, and had been long celebra-
ted for his wit and learning, when Dr.
LINDSEY, the Primate of Ireland, died.
Upon his death, Archbiſhop King im-
mediately made claim to the Primacy, as
a preferment to which he had a right
from his ſtation in the fee of Dublin,
and from his acknowledged character in
the church. Neither of theſe preten-
ſions were prevalent. He was looked
upon as too far advanced in years to be
removed. The reaſon alledged was as
mortifying as the refuſal itſelf: but the
Archbiſhop had no opportunity of ſhew-
ing his reſentment, except to the new
Primate Dr. Bolter, whom he received
at
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 37
at his own houſe, and in his dining
parlour, without riſing from his chair,
and to whom he made an apology, by
ſaying, in his uſual ſtrain of wit, and
with his uſual ſneering countenance,
My Lord, I am certain your Grace
“ will forgive me, becauſe, You know,
“ I am too old to riſe."
In the year 1701, Swift took his
Doctor's degree, and towards the latter
end of that year, or according to our
abſurd way of reckoning, in the year
1701, King WILLIAM died.
Queen
Ann's reign will open a new ſcene, and
will probably afford me materials for
more letters than one. The more the
better, when in each of them I can
aſſure
your behaviour, as
well as my own inclinations, oblige me
to be,
you, that
Your affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
.
D3
LE T-
38
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
00000000-0000-000000000000000+
LETTER IV.
UPON
PON the death of King WILLIAM,
and the acceſſion of Queen Ann,
Dr. Swift came into England. It cannot
be denied, that the chief miniſters of
that Queen, whether diſtinguiſhed under
the titles of Whigs or Tories, of High
Church or of Low Church, were, from
the beginning to the end of her reign,
encouragers of learning, and patrons of
learned men. The wits and poets of that
æra, were numerous and eminent. Amidſt
the croud, yet ſhining above the reſt,
appeared Dr. SWIFT.
Ipſe ante alios pulcherrimus omnes,
Infert ſe ſocium Æneas, atque agmina jungit.
It will be impoſſible, in mentioning
the reign of this Princeſs, or in writing
memoirs of Dr. Swift, to avoid the fre-
quent uſe of thoſe cant words Whig and
Tory,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. ,
39
Tory, " two creatures, ſays a modern
« author, . who are born with a ſecret an-
tipathy to each other, and engage as na-
turally when they meet, as the elephant
" and rhinoceros.” In a mixture of theſe
two jarring animals conſiſted the firſt
miniſtry of Queen Ann, but the greater
Thare of the adminiſtration was com-
mitted to the Whigs, who, with inde-
fatigable induſtry foon engroſſed the
whole ; encloſing their Sovereign within
their own fortifications, and keeping
her captive within their own walls. The
Queen, whoſe heart was naturally in-
clined towards the Tories, remained an
unwilling priſoner ſeveral years to the
Whigs, till Mr. HARLEY, with a tory
army, undermined all the whiggiſh
fortreſſes, levelled their works to the
ground, ſeized the Princeſs, and during
the remainder of her life, ſurrounded,
and defended her with a new ſet of
: See the Spectator, No. 5o.
D4
troops
?
40
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
troops under the command of the Duke
of ORMOND.
Dr. Swift was known to the great
men of each denomination : and al-
though he foon attached himſelf openly
to the Tories, it is certain he had been
bred up, and educated with Whigs; at
leaſt with ſuch, who, in the Lexicon of
Party, may be found ranged under thạt
title. His motives for quitting the lower
yallies of Whiggiſm for the higher re.
gions of Toriſm, appear throughout his
works. The perſons who had now ſig-
nalized themſelves as Whigs, had re-
nounced thoſe principles by which the
old Whigs were denoted, and had em-
braced ſeveral of thoſe tenets of which
their forefathers had either a real, or a
pretended, abhorrence. The effects of
power and ambition are extraordinary
and boundleſs. They blind our faculties,
they ftagger our reſolution, and they
ſubvert our nature. Not all the meta-
morphoſes. of Oy.ID can produce a pa-
rallel
*
$
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 41
rallel equal to the change that appears
in the ſame man, when from a Patriot
he becomes a Courtier : yet it may be
aſſerted, and will redound to the honour
of Dr. Swift, that when he roſe into
the confidence and eſteem of thoſe great
men,
who fat at the helm of affairs
during the laſt years of Queen Ann's
reign, he ſcarce ever loſt himſelf, or
grew giddy by the plenitude of power,
and the exalted ſtation of frequently ap-
pearing in the confidence, and favour of
the reigning miniſter. He may have
been carried away by inconſiderate paſ-
fion, but he was not to be ſwayed by
deliberate evil. He may have erred in
judgement, but he was upright in in-
tention. The welfare and proſperity
of theſe kingdoms were the conſtant
aim of his politics, and the immediate
ſubject of his thoughts and writings.
But, as HAMLET ſays, “ Something too
« much of this.”. Let us continue there-
fore to trace the footſteps of his life; in
which,
42
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
which, ſcarce any circumſtance can be
found material from the year ſeventeen
hundred and two, till the change of the
miniſtry in the year ſeventeen hundred
and ten. During this interval, he had
worked hard within thoſe fubterraneous
paſſages, where, as has been hinted be-
fore, the mine was formed that blew
up the whiggifh ramparts, and opened
a way for the Tories to the Queen,
SWIFT was to the Tories, what CÆSAR
was to the Romans, at once a leader of
their armies, and an hiſtoriographer of
their triumphs. He reſided very much
in England: his inclinations were always
there. His intimacy with Lord OXFORD
commenced, as far as may be deduced
from his works, in Oktober 1709.
In a
poem written in the year 1713, he ſays,
'Tis (let me ſee) three years and more
October next it will be four)
Since Harley bid me firſt attend,
And choſe me for an humble friend.
3
And
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 43
3,
And again in another poem 'written
in the ſame year,
My Lord would carry on the jeſt,
And down to Windfor take his gueſt.
Swift much admires the place and air,
And longs to be a Canon there.
A Canon! that's a place too mean,
No, Doctor, you ſhall be a Dean.
By this laſt quotation, and by num-
berleſs other inſtances in his works, it
ſeems undeniable that a ſettlement in
England was the unvaried object of Dr.
Swift's ambition : ſo that his promo-
tion to a deanery in Ireland, was rather
a diſappointment than a reward. In a
letter to Mr. GAY, he ſays,
" The beſt,
" and greateſt part of my life, until theſe
" laf eight years, I ſpent in England.
“ There I made my friendſhips, and there I
left my defires. I am condemned for ever
to another country :
q" and in anſwer to
a Letter 5. Vol. 7.
a let.
44
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
a letter from Mr. Pope, who had offered
incenſe to him, as to a tutelar faint in
a ſtate of ſeparation, he writes thus.
“ You are an ill catholic, or a worſe geo-
grapher, for I can aſſure you, Ireland
“ is not paradiſe, and I appeal even to a
Spaniſh divine, whether addreſſes were
ever made to a friend in bell or pur-
gatory? a"
I ſhall cite no other quo-
tations ; but you will find in his letters,
many expreſſions to the ſame purport.
Among the various branches, into
which Swift's expanſive genius ſpread
itſelf, thoſe peculiar talents of levelling
his writings to the loweſt, and ſuſtain-
ing their dignity, to the higheſt capa-
city, were probably the original motives
that attracted the Earl of OxFORD'S
friendſhip to him. In the year 1709,
the character of Dr. Swift, as an au-
thor, was perfectly eſtabliſhed: he had
ſhewn abilities equal to thoſe attributed
by Homer to ULYSSES : he could ap-
2
Letter 4. Vol. 7.
pear
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 45
pear a beggar among beggars, and a
king among kings.
From the year 1710, to the lateſt pe-
riod of Queen Ann, we find him fight-
ing on the ſide of the miniſters, and
maintaining their cauſe in pamphlets,
poems, and weekly papers. In one of
his letters to Mr. Pope, he has this ex-
preſſion, “ I have converſed in ſome free-
“ dom with more miniſters of ſtate, of all
parties, than uſually happens to men of
my level; and I confeſs, in their capacity
" as miniſters, I look upon them as a race
of people whoſe acquaintance no
" would court otherwiſe than on the ſcore of
vanity, or ambition. a” Lord OXFORD,
as a gentleman, and a ſcholar, might be
open and unreſerved to Dr. Swift, as
far as his Lordſhip’s nature would per-
mit; but as a miniſter of ſtate he ever
appeared myſterious and ænigmatical,
delivering his oracles, like the Delphian
man
a Letter 4. Vol. 7.
Deity,
46 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Deity, in occult terms and ambiguous
expreſſions.
A man always appears of more con-
ſequence to himſelf, than he is in reality
to any other perſon. Such perhaps was
the caſe of Dr. Swift. He found him-
felf much indulged by the ſmiles, and
converſation of the Earl of OXFORD.
He knew how uſeful he was to the ad
miniſtration in general: and in one of
his letters (I think the ſame which I have
laſt quoted) he mentions, that the place
of hiſtoriographer was intended for
him ; but I am apt to ſuſpect that he
flattered himſelf too highly: at leaſt it
is very evident, that he remained with
out any preferment till the year 1713,
when he was made Dean of St. Patrick's.
In point of power and revenue, ſuch a
deanery might be eſteemed no inconfi-
derable promotion ; but to an ambitious
mind, whoſe perpetual aim was a ſettle-
ment in England, a dignity in any other
kingdom muſt
appear (as perhaps it was
deſigned)
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 47
deſigned) only an honourable, and pro-
fitable baniſhment.
But, my HAMILTON, I will never
hide the freedom of my ſentiments from
you.
I am much inclined to believe that
the temper of my friend Swift, might
occaſion his Engliſh friends, to wiſh him
happily and properly promoted, at a
diſtance. His fpirit, for I would give
it the ſofteſt name, was ever untracta-
ble. The motions of his genius were
often irregular. He aſſumed more the
air of a patron, than of a friend. He
affected rather to dictate than adviſe.
He was elated with the appearance of
enjoying miniſterial confidence. He en-
joyed the ſhadow: the ſubſtance was de
tained from him. He was employed,
not truſted ; and at the fame time that
he imagined himſelf a fubtil diver, who
dextrouſly ſhot down into the profound
eſt regions of politics, he was ſuffered
only to found the ſhallows neareſt the
fhore, and was ſcarce admitted to deſcend
below
48 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
below the froth at the top.' Perhaps thic
deeper bottoms were too muddy for his
inſpection
By reflexions of this fort, we may
account for his diſappointment in an
Engliſh biſhoprick. A diſappointment
which, he imagined, he owed to a joint
application made againſt him to the
Queen by Dr. SHARPE, Archbiſhop of
York, and by a Lady of the higheſt rank
and character. Archbiſhop SHARPE, ac-
cording to Dr. Swift's account, had
repreſented him to the Queen, as a
perſon who was not a Chriſtian; the
great Lady had ſupported the aſperſion ;
and the Queen, upon ſuch aſſurances,
had given away the biſhoprick, contrary
to her Majeſty's firſt intentions. Swift
kept himſelf indeed within ſome tolerable
bounds, when he ſpoke of the Queen:
but his indignation knew no limits,
when he mentioned the Archbiſhop, or
ز
the Lady
Buſineſs
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 49
Buſineſs and ceremony, (two cöm-
manders, that I hope you will liſt under,
much more willingly than I can) call me
away from my letter, although nothing
can ever call away my thoughts from
you, or interrupt the tenderneſs with
which I am, dear HAMILTON,
Your affectionate Fatber,
ORR ER Y.
***
L ET TER V.
MOST people, my dear Ham, arè
fond of a ſettlement in their native
country: but Dr. Swift had little
reaſon to rejoice in the land where his
lot had fallen : for, upon his arrival in
Ireland to take poſſeſſion of the deanery,
he found the violence of party raging in
that kingdom to the higheſt degree. The
common people were taught to look up-
on him as a Jacobite, and they proceed-
E
ed
50
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ed fo far in their deteſtation, as to throw
ſtones and dirt at him as he paſſed through
the ſtreets. The chapter of St. Patrick's,
like the reſt of the kingdom, received him
with great reluctance. They thwarted
him in every point that he propoſed. He
was avoided as a peſtilence. He was
oppoſed as an invader. He was marked
out as an enemy to his country. Such
was his firſt reception as Dean of St. Pa-
trick’s. Fewer talents, and leſs firmneſs,
muſt have yielded to ſo outragious an op-
poſition, fed contra audentior ibat. He
had ſeen enough of human nature, to
be convinced, that the paſſions of low,
ſelf-intereſted minds, ebb and flow
continually. They love they know not
whom, they hate they know not why:
they are captivated by words: guided by
names : and governed by accidents. SA-
CHEVERELL and the Church had been of as
great ſervice to one party in the year
1710, as Popery and Slavery were to the
other in the year 1713. But, to fhew
you
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. Si
you the ſtrange revolutions in this world,
Dr. SwIFT, who was now the de-
teſtation of the Iriſh rabble, lived to be
afterwards the moſt abſolute monarch
over them that ever governed men.
His firſt ſtep, was to reduce to reaſon
and obedience his reverend brethren the
chapter of St. Patrick's: in which, he
ſucceeded ſo perfectly, and ſo ſpeedily,
that in a ſhort time after his arrival, not
one member of that body offered to con-
tradict him, even in trifles. On the con-
trary, they held him in the higheſt re-
ſpect and veneration : ſo that he ſat in
the Chapter-houſe, like JUPITER in the
Synod of the Gods. Whether fear or
conviction were the motives of ſo imme-
diate a change, I leave you to conſider,
but certain it is
Viro Pbæbi chorus aſſurrexerit omnis.
Swift made no longer a ſtay in Irea
land, in the year 1713, than was requi-
ſite to eſtabliſh himſelf as Dean; and
E2
to
52
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
to paſs through certain cuſtoms and for-
malities, or to uſe his own words,
Through all vexations,
Patents, Inſtalments, Abjurations,
Firſt Fruits, and Tenths, and Chapter-Treats,
Dues, Payments, Fees, Demands, and-Cheats.
During the time of theſe ceremonies,
he kept a conſtant correſpondence with
his friends in England: all of whom
were eminent, either in birth, ſtation, or
abilities. Among theſe, let me begin
with the name of Mr. Pope. The world
has already ſeen a long ſeries of their
correſpondence : but a remarkable letter
of Mr. Pope's having been lately com-
municated to me, and bearing date at
the latter end of the year 1713, as I can-
not part with the original, I will ſend
you a very faithful
copy
of it. I ſhould
firſt ſay, that it is in anſwer to one from
Swift, wherein he had jocoſely made
an offer to his friend of a ſum of money,
ex causa religionis, or, in plain engliſh,
to induce Mr. Pope to change his reli-
gion.
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 53
gion. The wit of the letter itſelf will
excuſe all farther commentaries.
Binfield, December 8, 1713,
SIR,
NOT to trouble you at preſent with a re-
cital of all my obligations to you, I ſhall
only mention two things, which I take parti-
cularly kind of you: your deſire that I ſhould
write to you, and your propoſal of giving me
twenty guincas to change my religion, which
laſt you muſt give me leave to make the ſubjeet
of this letter.
Sure no clergyman ever offered ſo much out
of his own purſe for the ſake of any religion.
'Tis almoſt as many pieces of gold, as an
Apoſtle could get of filver from the prieſts of
old, on a much more valuable conſideration,
I believe it will be better worth my while to
propoſe a change of my faith by ſubſcription,
than a tranſlation of HOMER. And to con-
vince you, how well diſpoſed I am to the re-
formation, I ſhall be content, if you can pre-
vail with my Lord Treaſurer, and the mini-
ſtry, to riſe to the ſame ſum, each of them, on
this pious account, as my Lord HALLIFAX has
done
E 3
54
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
done on the prophane one. I am afraid there's
no being at once a poet and a good Chriſtian,
and I am very much. ſtraitned between two,
while the Whigs ſeem willing to contribute as
much, to continue me the one, as you would,
to make me the other. But, if you can move
every man in the government, who has above
ten thouſand pounds a year, to ſubſcribe as
much as yourſelf, I Mall become a convert,
as moſt men do, when the LORD turns it to
my intereft. I know they have the truth of
religion ſo much at beart, that they'd cer-
tainly give more to have one good ſubjeet
tranſlated from popery to the church of En-
gland, than twenty heatheniſh authors out of
any unknown tongue into ours. I therefore
commiſſion you, Mr. DEAN, with full au-
thority, to tranſact this affair in my name,
and to propoſe as follows. Firſt, that as
to the head of our church, the Pope, I may
engage to renounce his power, whenfoever I
Mall receive
any particular indulgences from
the head of your church, the Queen.
As to communion in one kind, I ſhall
alſo promiſe to change it for communion in
both, as ſoon as the miniſtry will allow me.
For invocations to faints, mine ſhall be
turned to dedications to finners, when I fall
find
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
55
find the great ones of this world as willing to
do me any good, as I believe thoſe of the other
are.
You ſee I Mall not be obſtinate in the main
points; but there is one article I muſt reſerve,
and which you ſeemed not unwilling to allow
me, prayer for the dead. There are people
to whoſe ſouls I wiſh as well, as to my own;
and I muſt crave leave, humbly to lay before
them, that though the ſubſcriptions above-
mentioned will ſuffice for myſelf, there are
neceſſary perquiſtes and additions, which i
muſt demand on the ſcore of this charitable
article. It is alſo to be confidered, that the
greater part of thoſe, whoſe fouls I am most
concerned for, were unfortunately heretics,
Schifmatics, poets, painters, or perſons of
ſuch lives and manners, as few or no churches
are willing to ſave. The expence will there-
fore be the greater, to make an effectual pro-
vifion for the ſaid fouls.
Old Dryden, though a Roman Catholic,
was a poet, and 'tis revealed in the viſions
of ſome ancient ſaints, that no poet was ever
ſaved under fome hundred of majes. I can-
not ſet bis delivery from purgatory at leſs
than fifty pounds ſterling.
E 4
WALSH
56
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
WALSH was not only a Socinian, but
fwhat you'll cwn is barder to be ſaved) a
Whig. He cannot modeſtly be rated at leſs
than an hundred.
L'ESTRANGE, being a Tory, we compute
him but at twenty pounds, which I hope no
friend of the party can deny to give, to keep
him from damning in the next life, conſider-
ing they never gave him fixpence to keep him
from ſtarving in this
All this together amounts to one hundred
and ſeventy pounds.
In the next place, I muſt dejire you to re-
preſent, that there are ſeveral of my friends
yet living, whom I dehgn, God willing, to
outlive, in conſideration of legacies; out of
which it is a do&trine in the reformed church,
that not a farthing ſhall be allowed to ſave
their fouls who gave
them.
There is one **** who will dye within
theſe few months, with **
one Mr.
JERVAS, who hath grievouſly offended in
making the likeneſs of almoſt all things in
beaven above and earth below.
Mr. Gay, an unhappy youth, who writes
paſtorals during the time of divine ſervice,
whoſe caſe is the more deplorable, as be bath
miſerably laviſhed away all that filver be
Jould
**
And one
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
57
jould have reſerved for his ſoul's bealth, in
buttons and loops for his coat.
I can't pretend to have theſe people honeſtly
ſaved under ſome hundred pounds, whether
you confider the difficulty of ſuch a work, or
the extreme love and tenderneſs I bear them,
which will infallibly make me puſh this cha-
rity as far as I am able. There is but one
more whoſe ſalvation I inýſt upon, and then
I have done : bụt indeed it may prove of ſo
much greater charge than all the reſt, that I
will only lay the caſe before you and the mi-
niſtry, and lay to their prudence and genero-
fity, what ſum they ſhall think fit to beſtow
upon it. .
The perſon I mean, is Dr. Swift ; a
dignified clergyman, but one, who, by his own
confeſſion, has compoſed more libels than ſer-
mons. If it be true, what I have heard of-
ten affirmed by innocent people, That too much
wit is dangerous to falvation, this unfortu-
pate gentleman muſt certainly be damned to all
eternity. But, I hope his long experience in
the world, and frequent converſation with
great men, will cauſe bim (as it has ſome
others) to bave leſs and leſs wit every day.
Be it as it will, I ſhould not think my own
Foul deſerved to be ſaved, if I did not endea-
vour
58
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
vour to ſave bis; for I have all the obligati-
ons in nature to bim.
He bas brought me
into better company than I cared for, made
me merrier when I was hick than I had a
mind to be, and put me upon making poems
on purpoſe, that he might alter them &c.
I once thought I could never have dif-
charged my debt to his kindneſs, but have
lately been informed, to my unſpeakable comfort,
that I have more than paid it all. For,
MONSIEUR DE MONTAGNE has aſſured
me, " that the perſon who receives a benefit
obliges the giver :" for fince the chief en-
deavour of one
friend is to do good to the other,
be who adminiſters both the matter and occahon,
is the man who is liberal. At this rate it is
impoffible Dr. Swift ſhould be ever out
of my debt, as matters ſtand already : and,
for the future, he may expect daily more ob-
ligations from
bis moſt faithful, affectionate
bumble ſervant,
A, POPE,
I have finiſhed the Rape of the Lock,
but I believe I may ſtay here till Chriſtmas,
without bindrance of buſineſs.
In
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
59
In the beginning of the year 1714,
Swift returned to England. He found
his great friends, who ſat in the ſeat of
power, much diſunited among them-
ſelves. He ſaw the Queen declining in
her health, and diſtreſſed in her ſituation:
while faction was exerting itſelf, and ga-
thering new ſtrength every day. The
part which he had to act upon this occa-
fion, was not ſo difficult, as it was diſ.
agreeable. He exerted the utmoſt of his
ſkill to reunite the miniſters, and to ce-
ment the apertures of the ſtate. I could
deſcend into very minute particulars,
were I to tell you what I have heard him
ſay upon this occaſion: but, my deareſt
HAM, let me ſpeak to you with my
uſual ſincerity.
We are at preſent too
near that æra, and have had too many
unexpected conſequences from it, either
to judge impartially, or to write un-
dauntedly, of thoſe tempeſtuous times.
Be contented if I tell you, that as ſoon
as Swift found his pains fruitleſs, his
argu-
60
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
arguments unavailing, and his endea-
vours, like the ſtone of SISYPHUS, roll-
ing back upon himſelf, he retired to a
friend's houſe in Berkſhire, where he re-
mained till the Queen died. So fatal a
cataſtrophe put a final period to all his
views in England, and made him return,
as faſt as poſſible, to his deanery in Ire-
land, loaded with thoſe agonizing paſſi-
ons, grief and diſcontent. I am ſorry to
leave him in ſo uneaſy a ſituation, but I
muſt haſten to ſubſcribe myſelf,
Your affectionate Father,
ORRERY,
LET
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 61
0000000000000899990909000000000
L E T T E R VI.
W
E are now, dear HAMILTON,
no longer to behold Dr. SWIFT
of any importance in England : his
hopes there are cruſhed for ever : his
miniſterial friends are degraded, ba-
niſhed, or impriſoned. Indecent rage,
ſanguinary zeal, and ill-tempered loy-
alty revelled at large throughout the
three kingdoms, eſpecially in Ireland,
where duels were fought almoſt every
week, and where the peſt was ſo univer-
fal, that the ladies were as violent as
the gentlemen. Even children at ſchool
quarrelled for Kings, inſtead of fighting
for apples.
As SWIFT was known to have been
attached to the Queen's laſt miniſtry,
to have written againſt the Whigs, and “to
. have oiled many a ſpring which HARLEY
moved,” he met with frequent indignities
from
62 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
from the populace, and indeed was equally
abuſed by perſons of all ranks and de-
nominations. Such a treatment foured
his temper, confined his acquaintance,
and added bitterneſs to his ſtyle : and,
ſince the future part of his life and
writings is to differ, in all circumſtances,
ſo widely from the paſt, ſince his ſtudies
and companions, his politics and his
cuſtoms, are now to be altered and ex-
changed for new habits, new friends,
new ambition, and a new world, fuffer
me, my HAM, to take a general review
of him as an author,
If we conſider his proſe works, we
ſhall find a certain maſterly conciſeneſs
in their ſtyle, that has never been equal-
led by any other writer. The truth of
this aſſertion will more evidently appear,
by comparing him with ſome of the
authors of his own time. Of theſe Dr.
TILLOTSON, and Mr. ADDISON, are to
be numbered among the moſt eminent.
ADDISON has all the powers that can
captivate
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 63
captivate and improve : his diction is
eaſy, his periods are well turned, his
expreſſions are flowing, and his humour
is delicate. TilloTSON is nervous,
grave, majeſtic, and perfpicuous. We
muſt join both theſe characters together
to form a true idea of Dr. Swift: yet
as he outdoes ADDISON in humour, he
excels Tillotson in perſpicuity. The
Archbiſhop indeed confined himſelf to
ſubjects relative to his profeſſion : but
ADDISON and Swift are more diffuſive
writers. They continually vary in their
manner, and treat different topics in a
different ſtyle. When the writings of
ADDISON terminate in party, he loſes
himſelf extremely, and from a delicate,
and juſt comedian, deviates into one of
the loweſt kind '. Not ſo Dr. SWIFT:
he appears like a maſterly gladiator. He
wields the ſword of party with eaſe,
juſtneſs and dexterity: and while he
entertains the ignorant and the vulgar,
* See the paper intitled the Freeholder.
he
64
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
he draws an equal attention from the
learned and the great. When he is fe-
rious, his gravity becomes him. When
he laughs, his readers muſt laugh with
him. But, what ſhall be ſaid for his
love of trifles, and his want of delicacy
and decorum? Errors, that if he did
not contract, at leaſt he encreaſed in
Ireland. They are without a parallel.
I hope they will ever remain ſo. The
firſt of them, aroſe merely from his love
of flattery, with which he was daily
fed in that kingdom : the ſecond, pro-
ceeded from the miſanthropy of his
diſpoſition, which induced him peeviſh-
ly to debaſe mankind, and even to ridi-
cule human nature itſelf, Politics werc
his favourite topic, as they gave him an
opportunity of gratifying his ambition,
and thirſt of power : yet even in this
road, he has ſeldom continued long in
one particular path. He has written
miſcellaneouſly, and has choſen rather
to appear a wandering comet, than a
fixed
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 65
fixed ſtar. Had he applied the faculties
of his mind to one great, and uſeful
work, he muſt have ſhined more glo-
riouſly, and might have enlightened a
whole planetary ſyſtem in the political
world.
The poetical performances of Dr.
Swift ought to be conſidered as occa-
fional poems written either to pleaſe, or
vex ſome particular perſons. We muſt
not ſuppoſe them deſigned for poſterity:
if he had cultivated his genius in that
way, he muſt certainly have excelled,
eſpecially in ſatyr. We fee fine ſketches,
in ſeveral of his pieces : but he ſeems
more deſirous to inform, and ſtrengthen
his mind, than to indulge the luxuriancy
of his imagination. He chooſes to dif-
cover, and correct errors in the works
of others, rather than to illuſtrate, and
add beauties to his own. Like a ſkilful
artiſt, he is fond of probing wounds to
their depth, and of enlarging them to open
view. He prefers cauſtics, which erode
F
proud
66 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
proud fleſh, to ſofter balſamics, which
give more immediate eaſe. He aims to
be feverely uſeful, rather than politely
engaging : and as he was either not
formed, or would not take pains to ex-
cel in poetry, he became, in ſome mea-
ſure, ſuperior to it; and aſſumed more
the air and manners of a critic, than of
a poet.
Had he lived in the ſame
age
with Horace, he would have approach-
ed nearer to him, than any other poet :
and if we may make an allowance for
the different courſe of ſtudy, and diffe-
rent form of government, to which each
of theſe great men were ſubject, we may
obſerve, in ſeveral inſtances, a ſtrong re-
femblance between them.
are equally diſtinguiſhed for wit and
humour. Each diſplays a peculiar feli-
city in diction : but, of the two, Ho-
RACE is the more elegant and delicate :
while he condemns, he pleaſes. 'SWIFT
takes pleaſure in giving pain : The dif-
fimilitude of their tempers might be
Both poets
owing
AND WRİTİNGS OF DR. SWIFT. 67
owing to the different turns in their for-
tune. Swift early formed large views
of ambition, and was diſappointed.
HORACE, from an exiled low ſtate, roſe
into affluence, and enjoyed the favour
and friendſhip of Augustus. Each poet
was the delight of the principal perſons
of his age. Cum magnis vixiſe was not
more applicable to HORACE, than to
Swift. They both were temperate :
both were frugal; and both were of the
ſame Epicurean taſte. HORACE had his
Lydia, Swift had his VANESSA. Ho-
RACE had his MECÆNAS, and his
AGRIPPA. Swift had his OXFORD,
and his BOLINGBROKÉ. HORACE had
his VIRGIL, Swift had his Pope.
After the great names, which I have
juſt now mentioned, it is matter of
aſtoniſhment to find the ſame perſon,
who had enjoyed the higheſt, and the
beſt converſation, equally delighted with
the loweſt and the worſt : and
yet
it is
certain, from Swift's ſettlement in Dub-
lin
F 2
68 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
lin as Dean of St. Patrick's, his choice
of companions in general ſhewed him
of a very depraved taite.
From the year ſeventeen hundred and
fourteen, till he appeared in the year
twenty, a champion for Ireland againſt
Wood's halfpence, his ſpirit of poli-
tics, and of patriotiſm, was kept almoſt
cloſely confined within his own breaſt.
Idleneſs and trifles engroſſed too many
of his hours : fools and ſycophants too
much of his converſation. However,
let me obſerve to you, that the treat-
ment which he received, after the death
of Queen Ann, was almoſt a fufficient
reaſon to juſtify a contempt, if not an
abhorrence of the human race. He had
bravely withſtood all hoſtile indignities,
during the life time of that Princeſs ;
but when the whole army of his friends
were not only routed, but taken priſon-
er's, he dropt his ſword, and retired into
his fortification at Dublin, from whence
he ſeldom ſtirred beyond the limits of his
own
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 69
own garden, unleſs in great indulgence
to ſome particular favourites.
His attendance upon the public
ſervice of the church was regular and
uninterrupted: and indeed regularity
was peculiar to him in all his actions,
even in the greateſt trifles. His hours
of walking, and reading, never varied :
His motions were guided by his watch,
which was ſo conſtantly held in his
hand, or placed before him upon his
table, that he feldom deviated many
minutes, in the daily revolution of his
exerciſes and employments. His works,
from the year 1714, to the year 1720,
are few in number, and of ſmall im-
portance. Poems to STELLA, and trifles
to Dr. SHERIDAN, fill up a great part of
that period.
In the year 1720, he began to re-af-
fume, in ſome degree, the character of
a political writer. A ſmall pamphlet in
defence of the Iriſh manufa&tures, was, I
believe, his firſt eſſay (in Ireland) in that
kind
F 3
yo
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
kind of writing: and to that pamphlet,
he owed the turn of the popular tido
in his favoura. His ſayings of wit and
humour had been handed about, and
repeated from time to time among the
people. They had the effect of an art-
ful preface, and had pre-engaged all
readers in his favour. They were adapt-
ed to the underſtanding, and pleaſed
the imagination of the vulgar : and he
was now looked upon in a new light,
and diſtinguiſhed by the title of THE
DEAN.
The flux and reflux of popular love
and hatred are equally violent. They
are often owing to accidents, but fome-
times to the return of reaſon, which,
unaſſiſted by education, may not be able
to guide the lower claſs of people, into
the right tract at the beginning, but
will be ſufficient to keep them in it, when
experience has pointed out the road.
See Letter 16th.
The
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 71
no
The pamphlet, propoſing the univerſal
uſe of Iriſh manufactures within the
kingdom, had captivated all hearts. Some
little pieces of poetry to the ſame purpoſe,
were no leſs acceptable and engaging.
The attachment which the Dean bore to
the true intereſt of Ireland, was
longer doubted. His patriotiſm was as
manifeſt as his wit. He was looked
upon with pleaſure and reſpect, as he
paſſed through the ſtreets : and he had
attained ſo high a degree of popularity,
as to become an arbitrator in the dif-
putes of property among his neighbours :
nor did any man dare to appeal from his
opinion, or to murmur at his decrees.
But the popular affection, which the
Dean had hitherto acquired, may be
ſaid not to have been univerſal, till the pub-
lication of the DRAPIER's letters, which
made all ranks, and all profeſſions una-
nimous in his applauſe. The occaſion
of thoſe letters was a ſcarcity of copper
coin in Ireland, to fo great a degree, that
for
F 4
72
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
for ſome time paſt the chief manufactur.
ers throughout the kingdom, were ob-
liged to pay their workmen in pieces of
tin, or in other tokens of ſuppoſititious
value. Such a method was very diſad
vantageous to the lower parts of traffic,
and was in general an impediment to the
commerce of the ſtate. To remedy this
evil, the late King granted a patent to
WILLIAM Wood, to coin, during the
term of fourteen years, farthings and
halfpence in England for the uſe of Ire-
land, to the value of a certain ſum fpe-
cified. Theſe halfpence and farthings
were to be received by thoſe perſons,
who would voluntarily accept them. But
the patent was thought to be of ſuch
dangerous conſequence to the public,
and of ſuch exorbitant advantage to the
patentee, that the DEAN, under the cha-
racter of M. B. DRAPIER, wrote a letter
to the people, warning them not to ac-
cept Wood's halfpence and farthings as
current coin. This firſt letter was ſuc-
ceeded
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 73
ceeded by ſeveral others to the ſame pur-
poſe, all which are inſerted in his works.
At the ſound of the DRAPIER's trum-
pet, a ſpirit aroſe among the people,
that, in the eaſtern phraſe, was like unto a
tempeſt in the day of the whirlwind. Every
perſon of every rank, party, and deno-
mination, was convinced, that the ad-
miſſion of Wood's
copper
muſt
prove
fatal to the commonwealth. The Papiſt,
the Fanatie, the Tory, the Whig, all
lifted themſelves volunteers under the
banner of M. B. DRAPIER, and were
all equally zealous to ſerve the common
cauſe. Much heat, and many fiery
ſpeeches againſt the adminiſtration, were
the conſequence of this union: nor had
the flames been allayed, notwithſtand-
ing threats and proclamations, had not
the coin been totally ſuppreſſed, and had
not Wood withdrawn his patent.
This is the moſt ſuccinct account that
can be given of an affair, which alarmed
the whole Iriſh nation to a degree, that
in
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
74
in a leſs loyal kingdom muſt have for ,
mented a rebellion : but the ſtedfaſt loy-
alty of the Iriſh, and their true devotion
to the preſent royal family is immove-
able: and although this unfortunate na-
tion may not hitherto have found many
diſtinguiſhing marks of favour and in-
dulgence from the throne, yet it is to be
hoped, in time they may meet with their
reward.
The name of AUGUSTUS was not be-
ſtowed upon OCTAVIUS CÆSAR with more
univerſal approbation, than the name of
THE Drapier was beſtowed upon THE
Dean. He had no ſooner aſſumed his new
cognomen, than he became the idol of the
people of Ireland to a degree of devoti-
on, that in the moſt ſuperſtitious coun-
try ſcarce any idol ever obtained. Liba-
tions to his health, or, in plain engliſh,
bumpers, were poured forth to the DRA-
PIER as large and as frequent, as to the
glorious and immortal memory of K. WIL-
LIAM the third. His effigies was painted
in
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 75
He was
in every ſtreet in Dublin. Acclamations
and vows for his proſperity attended his
footſteps wherever he paſſed.
conſulted in all points relating to do-
meſtic policy in general, and to the trade
of Ireland in particular : but he was
more immediately looked upon as the
legiſlator of the weavers, who frequently
came in a body, conſiſting of fifty or ſixty
chieftains of their trade, to receive his ad.
vice, in ſettling the rates of their manu-
factures, and the wages of their jour-
neymen.
He received their addreffes
with leſs majeſty than ſternneſs, and
ranging his ſubjects in a circle round his
parlour, ſpoke as copiouſly, and with as
little difficulty and heſitation, to the ſe-
veral points in which they ſupplicated
his aſſiſtance, as if trade had been the
only ſtudy and employment of his life.
When elections were depending for the
city of Dublin, many corporations re-
fuſed to declare themſelves, till they had
conſulted his ſentiments and inclinations,
which
76
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
2
which were punctually followed with
equal chearfulneſs and ſubmiſſion. In
this ſtate of power, and popular love and
admiration, he remained till he loſt his
ſenſes : a lofs which he ſeemed to fore-
ſee, and prophetically lamented to many
of his friends
I have now conducted the Dean
through the moſt intereſting circum-
ſtances of his life, to the fatal period
wherein he was utterly deprived of rea-
fon. If your curioſity leads you to en-
quire into the particulars of that misfor-
tune, it muſt be the ſubject of ſome fu-
ture letter : for, at preſent, I think it is
time to indulge myſelf in aſſuring you,
that I am with an inexpreſſible warmth
of heart, my dear HAMILTON,
Your moſt affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
a See Letter XXI.
LET-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 77
080808808080808806080*08008080
L E T T E R VII.
My dear HAMILTON,
YOU ſeem not only deſirous, but
impatient, that I ſhould paſs criti-
cally thorough all the works of my friend
Swift. Your requeſt is unreaſonable if
you imagine, that I muſt ſay ſomething
upon every
every individual performance.
There are ſome pieces that I deſpiſe,
others that I loath, but many more that
delight and improve me: and theſe laſt
ſhall be diſcuſſed particularly. The for-
mer are not worthy of your notice.
They are of no farther uſe than to
ſhew us, in general, the errors of hu-
man nature ; and to convince us, that
neither the height of wit, nor genius,
can bring a man to luch a degree of
fection, as vanity would often prompt
him to believe.
of per-
In
78
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
In a diſquiſition of the fort which you
require, I ſhall avoid as much as poſſible
any annotations upon that kind of ſatyr,
in which the Dean indulged himſelf
againſt particular perſons: moſt of whom
it is probable provoked his rage by their
own miſconduct, and conſequently owed
to their own raſhneſs the wounds which
they received from his pen: but I have
no delight in thoſe kind of writings, ex-
cept for the ſake of the wit, which, ei-
ther in general, or in particular ſatyr, is
equally to be admired. The edge of wit
will always remain keen, and its blade
will be bright and ſhining, when the
ſtone, upon which it has been whetted,
is worn out, or thrown aſide and forgot-
ten. Perſonal ſatyr againſt evil magiſ
trates, corrupt miniſters, and thoſe gi-
ants of power, who
gorge themſelves
with the entrails of their country, is dif-
ferent from that perſonal ſatyr, which
too often proceeds merely from ſelf-love,
or ill-nature : the one, is written in de-
fence
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. .
79
fence of the public, the other, in defence
of ourſelves. The one, is armed by the
ſword of juſtice, and encouraged not
only by the voice of the people, but by
the principles of morality: the other, is
dictated by paſſion, ſupported by pride,
and applauded by flattery. At the ſame
time that I ſay this, I think every man
of wit has a right to laugh at fools,
who give offence, or at coxcombs, who
are public nuſances. Swift indeed has
left no weapon of ſarcaſm untried, no
branch of ſatyr uncultivated : but while
he has maintained a perpetual war againſt
the mighty men in power, he has re-
mained invulnerable, if not victorious.
Upon a review of the Dean's writings,
it cannot be ſufficiently lamented, that
there is no juſt, or perfect edition of
his works. FAULKNER's edition, at
leaſt the four firſt volumes of it (for
there are now eight) were publiſhed, by
the permiſſion and connivance, if not by
the particular appointment of the Dean
himſelf.
3
80 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
himſelf. But the ſeveral pieces are thrown
together without any order or regularity
whatever : ſo that like the ancient chaos
which contained an immenſe collection
of various treaſures, they remain in their
ſtate of confuſion rudis indigeſtaque mo-
les : and yet the incoherency of ſituation
is perhaps one of the moſt excuſable
faults in the collection: for the materi-
als are of ſo different, and ſo incongru-
ous a nature, that it ſeems as if the au-
thor, (who was in reality the editor,)
imagined the public under an abſolute
neceſſity of accepting the baſeft coin from
the ſame hand, that had exhibited the
pureſt. Surely the idle amuſements of a
man's private and domeſtic life, are not
to be ſent forth as ſufficient entertain
ments for the witty or the learned. Poft-
humous works indeed are often worthleſs
and improper, from the ill judged zeal of
ignorant executors, or imprudent friends :
but, a living author remains without ex-
cuſe, who either wilfully, or wantonly
impoſes upon the world.
The
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 81
The Engliſh edition of Swift's works
I have ſcarce ſeen; and I have had little
inclination to examine it, becauſe I was
acquainted with the Dean, at the time
when FAULKNER's edition came out, and
therefore muſt always look upon that
copy as moſt authentic ; well knowing
that Mr. FAUĽKNER had the advantage
of printing his edition, by the conſent
and approbation of the author himſelf.
The four firſt volumes were publiſhed by
ſubſcription, and every ſheet of them
was brought to the Dean for his revifal
and correction. The two next were
publiſhed in the ſame manner. The
ſeventh volume was printed from a num-
ber of furreptitious letters publiſhed in
England: and the eighth volume did
not come out till after the Dean's death.
In the publication of the fix firſt vo-
lumes, the ſituation and arrangement
of each particular piece, in verſe and
profe, was left entirely to the editor. In
G
that
82
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
that point, the Dean either could not, or
would not give him the leaſt aſſiſtance:
The dates were often gueſſed at, and
every ſcrap was thruſt into the parcel
that might augment the collection. Such
a conduct has been productive of a con-
fuſion that offends the eye, and miſ-
leads the underſtanding. We have lefs
pleaſure in looking at a palace built at
different times, and put together by ig-
norant workmen, than in viewing a
plain regular building compoſed by a
maſterly hand in all the beauty of fym-
metry and order. The materials of the
former may be more valuable, but the
ſimplicity of the latter is more accept-
able. For health and exerciſe who would
not chuſe rather to walk upon a platform
than in a labyrinth ? or, who does not
wiſh to ſee an edition of Swift's works
becoming the genius, and dignity of the
author? When ſuch an edition is under
taken, I ſhould hope that all the minus
tiæ
AND WRITINGS OF DR.SWIFT. 83
tice of his idle hours might be entirely
excluded : or at leaſt placed, like out
buildings, at a diſtance from the chief
édifices of ſtate.
Swift was naturally fond of ſeeing
his works in print, and he was encou:
raged in this fondneſs by his friend Dř.
Sheridan, who had the cacoethes fcribendi
to the greateſt degree, and was continu-
ally letting off ſquibs, rockets, and alf
forts of little fireworks from the preſs,
by which means he offended many par-
ticular perſons, who, although'they ſtood
in' aire of Swift, held SHERIDAN at de
fiance. The truth is, the poor Doctor,
by nature the moſt peaceable, inoffenſive
mani alive, was in a continual ftate of
Warfare with the minor poets; and they
revenged themſelves, or, if the ſtyle of
Mr. Bays, often gave him flaſh för fldfi,
and finged bis feathers. The affe&tiotibes
tween Theseus and Perithbus was not
greater than the affection between SWIFT
G 2
and
84 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and SHERIDAN: but the friendſhip that
cemented the two antient heroes proba-
bly commenced upon motives very dif-
ferent from thoſe which united the two
modern divines. As in a former letter,
I drew a picture of Swift's wife, let me
here give you ſome ſketches of Swift's
friend.
Dr. SHERIDAN was a ſchoolmaſter,
and, in many inſtances, perfectly well
adapted for that ſtation. He was deeply
verſed in the Greek and Roman lan-
guages; and in their cuſtoms and anti-
quities. He had that kind of good-na-
ture, which abſence of mind, indolence
of body, and careleſneſs of fortune pro-
duce; and although not over ſtrict in his
own conduct, yet he took care of the
morality of his ſcholars, whom he ſent
to the Univerſity remarkably well found-
ed in all claſſical learning, and not ill
inſtructed in the ſocial duties of life. He
· Letter II. page 22.
was
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
85
was ſlovenly, indigent, and chearful. He
knew books much better than men: and
he knew the value of money leaſt of all.
In this ſituation, and with this diſpoſi-
tion, Swift faſtened upon him, as upon a
prey with which he intended to regale him-
ſelf, whenever his appetite ſhould prompt
him. SHERIDAN therefore was kept con-
ſtantly within his reach: and the only time
he was permitted to go beyond the limits
of his chain, was to take poſſeſſion of a
living in the county of Corke, which had
been beſtowed upon him by the then Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, the preſent Earl of
Granville. SHERIDAN, in one fatal moment,
or by one fatal text, effected his own ruin.
You will find the ſtory told by Swift him-
ſelf, in the fourth volume of his works : fo
that here I need only tell you, that this ill-
ſtarred, good-natured, improvident man
• Page 289. In a pamphlet entitled, A Vindication of
his Excellency John Lord CARTERET from the charge
of favouring none but Tories, High Churchmen, and
Jacobitęs.
returned
G3
86 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
returned to Dublin, unhinged from all fa-
vour at court, and even baniſhed from the
caſtle. But ſtill he remained a punſter, a
quibbler, a fiddler, and a wit. Not a day
paſſed without a rebus, an anagram, or a
madrigal. His pen and his fiddle-ſtick were
in continual motion; and yet to little or
no purpoſe, if we may give credit tọ the
following verſes, which ſhall ſerve as the
concluſion of his poetical character.
With muſic and poetry equally bleſs'd,
A bard thus APOLLO moſt humbly addreſs’d,
Great author of poetry, muſic, and light,
Inſtructed by thee I both fiddle and write :
Yet unheeded I ſcrape, of I ſcribble all day,
My tunes are neglected, my verſe flung away,
Thy ſubſtitute here VICE-APOLLO diſdains,
To vouch for my numbers, or liſt to my ſtrains. ,
Thy manual ſign he refufes to put
To the airs I produce from the pen, or the gut.
Be thou then propitious, great Phoebus, and
grant
Relief; or reward to my merit, or want.
Tho' the Dean and Delany tranſcendently ſhine,
O! brighten one folo, or ſonnet of mine,
. Dr. SWIFT.
Þ Now Dean of Downe.
Make
AND WRITINGS OF DR; SWIFT.
87
Make one work immortal; 'tis all I requeſt;
Apollo look'd pleas'd, and reſolving to jeſt,
Replied, honeſt friend, I've conſider'd your cafe,
Nor diſlike your unmeaning and innocent face.
Your petition I grant, the boon is not great,
Your works ſhall continue, and here's the receipt,
On Roundos hereafter your fiddle-ſtrings ſpend,
Write verſes in circles, they never ſhall end.
In the courſe of my correſpondence, my
dear Ham, you may poſſibly obſerve ſome
ſeeming contradictions, as I am purſuing
the Dean through the mazy turnings of
his character. But, they will caſily be re-
conciled, when you conſider, that, of all
mankind, Swift perhaps had the greateſt
contrafts in his temper.
He often put me
in mind of that wild opinion, which Plu-
TARCH ſays was entertained by the ſages of
old, “ That we are fubject to the influ-
ence of two principles, or deities, who
“ are in conſtant oppoſition to each other:
A ſong, or peculiar kind of poetry, which returns to
the beginning of the firſt verſe, and ſo continues in a perpe-
tual rotation.
" the
G4
88
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
re the one directing us to the right hand,
" and through the right road, the other
driving us. aſtray, and oppoſing us from
• purſuing the tract pointed out by his
adverſary.” The Manichean hereſy, you
know, has been built upon this hypothefis :
and it is not impoſſible (as the doctrine it-
ſelf was propagated before the time of Ma-
NES) that ſome antient ſpeculative philoſo-
pher may have invented ſuch a kind of
mythology, merely to ſolve the various
contradictions which he found fluctuating
within his own breaſt.
You will poſſibly expect from me a col-
lection of apophthegms, which the Dean may
have uttered upon various occaſions. But,
the witty records of table-talk in my mind
feem too minute and over curious; at leaſt I
muſt wiſh to treat with you upon ſubjects
of more importance. I mean ſuch ſub-
jects as will teach you to follow ſome mo-
ral virtue, or to ſhun ſome moral evil.
Forgive
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 89
Forgive me too, if I am now and
then guilty of repetitions. In reviewing
the ſame perſon ſo often, the ſame
thoughts, if not the ſame expreſſions
will inevitably occur.
But, excuſes for
theſe kind of errors, are, I hope, unne-
ceſſary. Candour and truth are the
chief points that I have had in view,
knowing them to be coincident with your
own manner of thinking.
You are now ſufficiently prepared for
that particular edition of Swift's works,
which I intend to purſue : and I ſhall
undertake the performance with great
pleaſure and alacrity, becauſe I flatter
myſelf it may be acceptable to you, as
it comes from
Your moſt affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
13
L E T-
90
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
*****************************
L E T T E R VIII.
I
The fight
Was very glad to be interrupted, by
your unexpected vifit.
of
you, and the happinefs which I con-
ſtantly receive in your company, are re-
collected by me in your abſence, with
ſuch a kind of inexpreſſible pleafure, as
the warmeſt affection and the trueſt ten-
derneſs inſpire: and as I am always
earneſt to comply with your requeſts, I
take the earlieſt opportunity of going
on with a plan, that hitherto has re-
ceived the encouragement of your filial
partiality
The firſt volume of FAULKNER's edi-
tion conſiſts of various tracts jumbled
together, without any regularity or or-
der. The firft treatiſe in this volume is
entitled, A diſcourſe of the conteſts and diſ-
fentions between the nobles and commons in
ATHENS and ROME. It was written in
the
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 91
the
year 1701. towards the latter end of
King William's reign, and at a time,
when that Prince was made extremely
uneafy, by the violence with which ſome
of his miniſters, and chief favourites
were purſued. However bright the
crown of England might have glittered
in the
eyes
of the Prince of Orange, he
found it, when placed upon his head, a
crown of thorns. The longer he wore
the diadem, the bandelet ſtill became
more tight and irkſome. Complaints,
and enquiries aroſe in the ſenate.
Feuds, and unchriſtian animoſities, in
the convocation. Nor had foreign affairs
a more propitious aſpect. Lewis the
fourteenth was making large ſtrides to-
wards univerſal monarchy. Plots were
carrying on at St. GERMAIN's. The
Dutch had acknowledged the Duke of
Anjou aş King of SPAIN: and EUROPE
in general ſeemed pregnant of fire, and
ready to burſt into flames. Thus began
the year 1701. King William in hopes
to
92
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
to diſpel this ſulphureous body of clouds,
which ſeemed to threaten ſome future
thunder of extraordinary violence, had
made ſeveral changes in his miniſtry,
and had removed ſome of his faithful-
eſt ſervants from places of the higheſt
truſt and dignity. The alteration proved
of little or no effect. The animoſity of
the houſe of commons could not be ap-
peaſed.' They looked upon the depri-
vation of lucrative employments, as an
inſufficient puniſhment for high crimes
and miſdemeanors : and they began firſt
by impeaching the Earl of PORTLAND?;
and then proceeded to the impeachments
of Lord Somers, the Earl of OR-
FORD, and the Earl of HALLIFAX.
b
a WILLIAM BENTINCK, Earl of PORTLAND,
Groom of the ſtole.
JOHN SOMERS, Baron SOMERS of Evebam. Firſt,
Lord Keeper : afterwards, Lord High Chancellor.
EDWARD RUSSELL, Earl of ORFORD. Trea-
furer of the Navy, and one of the Lords Commiffion-
ors of the Admiralty.
CHARLES MOUNTAGUE, Earl of HALLIFAX.
Appointed one of the Commiffioners of the Treaſury;
and afterwards made Chancellor of the Exchequer,
Theſe
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 93
Theſe were all great men; and the
three laſt were of remarkable abilities
and experience. Lord SOMERS was the
general patron of the literati, and the
particular friend of Dr. Swift. The
Earl of ORFORD had been conſidered in
a manner as lord high admiral ; the
whole affairs of the navy having been
committed to his charge. Lord Halli-
Fax had a fine genius for poetry, and
had employed his more youthful part of
life in that ſcience. He was diſtinguiſhed
by the name of Mouse MOUNTAGUE,
having ridiculed, jointly with MAT
PRIOR, Mr. Dryden's famous
poem
of
the Hind and Panther. The parody is
drawn from HORACE's fable of the City
Mouſe and Country Mouſe, and begins,
A milk white mouſe, immortal and unchang’d;
Fed on ſoft cheeſe, and o'er the dairy rang’d.
But afterwards, upon Mr. Mounta-
Gue's promotion to the chancellorſhip
of
94
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
of the Exchequer, PRIOR, with a good-
humoured indignation äť ſëčing his
friend preferred, and himſelf neglected,
concludes an epiſtle written in the year
1698, to FLEETWOOD SHEPHERD, Efq;
with theſe three lines,
My friend Charles MOUNTAGUE's prefer’d,
Nor wou'd I have it long obſerv’d,
That one Mouſe eats, while tother's ſtarv’d.
}
You will find the characters of the
four impeached lords deſcribed under
Athenian names. Phocion is the Earl
of PORTLAND. ARISTIDE's is Lord Sou
MERS. THEMIstotles is the Earl of
ORFORD. PERICLES is the Earl of
HALLIFAX. In parallels of this fort, it
is impoſſible that every circumſtanice
ſhould tally with the utmoſt exactneſs:
but the whole treatife is full of hiſtoria
cal knowledge, and excellent reflexions.
It is not mixed with any improper ſallies
of wit, or any light airs of humour :
and in point of ſtyle and learning, is
equal,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 95
equal, if not ſuperior, to any of his po-
litical works.
Subſequent to the diſcourſe concerning
Athens and Rome, is a paper written in
the year 1703, in deriſion of the ſtyle
and manner of Mr. ROBERT BOYLÉ.
To what a height muſt the ſpirits of far-
calm ariſe in an author, who could pre-
vail upon himſelf to ridicule fo good á
man as Mr. BOYLE? But, the ſword of
wit; like the ſcythe of time, cuts down
friend and foe, and attacks every object
that accidentally lies in its way. How-
ever, ſharp and irreſiſtible as the edge
of it may be, Mr. BOYLĖ will always
remain invulnerable.
The ſentiments of a church-of-England
man, with reſpect to religion and government,
was written in the year 1908.
It is
adapted to that particular period. The
ſtyle of the whole pamphlet is nervous,
and, except in ſome few places, impar-
tial. The ſtate of Holland is ſo juſtly,
and,
96
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
CC
and, at the ſame time, ſo conciſely deli.
neated, that I cannot help tranſcribing
it. Speaking of the Dutch, the author
ſays, They are a commonwealth founded
on a ſudden, by a deſperate attempt on a
deſperate condition, not formed or digeſted
“ into a regular ſyſtem by mature thought and
reaſon, but buddled up under the preſure
of ſudden exigencies ; calculated for no
long duration, and bitherto fubfifting by
“ accident in the midſt of contending powers,
“ who cannot yet agree about ſharing it
amongſt them." This tract is very well
worth your reading and attention: and
it confirms an obſervation which will
perpetually occur, that Swift excels in
whatever ſtyle or manner he aſſumes.
When he is in earneſt, his ſtrength of
reaſon carries with it conviction. When
in jeſt, every competitor in the race of
wit is left behind him.
The argument againſt aboliſhing Cbri-
ſtianity is carried on with the higheſt
wit
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 97
wit and humour. Graver divines threaten
their readers with future puniſhments :
Swift artfully exhibits a picture of
preſent ſhame. He judged rightly in
imagining that a ſmall treatiſe, written
with a ſpirit of mirth and freedom, muſt
be more efficacious, than long ſermons,
or laborious leſſons of morality. He
endeavours to laugh us into religion ;
well knowing, that we are often laughed
out of it. As you have not read the
pamphlet, excuſe a quotation, to which
may be prefixed the old proverb ex pede
Herculem. “ I would fain know (ſays the
“ Dean) bow it can be pretended, that the
“ churches are miſapplied. Where are
more appointments and rendezvouſes of
" gallantry? Where more care to appear
" in the foremoſt box with greater advantage
of dreſs? Where more meetings for buſi-
neſs? Where more bargains driven of all
forts? And where ſo many conveniencies
or incitements to sleep?
H
The
98
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
as the
The papers which immediately follow
are entirely humorous, and relate to
PARTRIDGE the almanac maker: and
although they are not only temporary,
but local, yet by an art peculiar to
Swift himſelf, they are rendered im-
mortal, ſo as to be read with pleaſure,
as long the Engliſh language
ſubfifts.
To theſe, ſucceeds A proje&t for the ad-
vancement of religion, and the reformation
of manners, written in the year 1709,
and dedicated to the Counteſs of BERK-
LEY. The author appears in earneſt
throughout the whole treatiſe, and the
dedication, or introduction, is in a ſtrain
of ſerious panegyric, which the Lady, to
whom it is addreſſed, undoubtedly de-
ferved. But as the pamphlet is of the
ſatirical kind, I am apt to imagine, that
my friend the Dean put a violence upon
himſelf, in chuſing to appear candidly
ſerious, rather than to ſmile under his
uſual maſk of gravity. Read it, and
tell
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 99
tell me your opinion: for methinks,
upon theſe occaſions, I perceive him
writing in ſhackles.
The tritical eſſay on the faculties of the
mind, will make you ſmile.
The letter to the Earl of OXFORD for cora
recting, improving, and aſcertaining the Eng-
liſh tongue might have been a very uſeful
performance, if it had been longer, and
leſs eclypſed by compliments to the
noble perſon to whom it is addreſſed.
It ſeems to have been intended as a pre-
face to ſome more enlarged deſign: at
the head of which ſuch an introduction
muſt have appeared with great propriety.
A work of this kind is much wanted,
as our language, inſtead of being im.
proved, is every day growing worſe,
and more debaſed. We bewilder our-
felves in various orthography ; we
ſpeak, and we write at random; and
if a man's common converſation were to
be committed to paper, he would be
ſtartled for to find himſelf guilty in a
fero
H 2
100
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
few ſentences, of ſo many ſoliciſms and
ſuch falſe English. I believe we are the
only people in the Chriſtian world, who
repeat the Lord's Prayer, in an ungram-
matical manner: and I remember to
have heard, that when a motion was
made in the Convocation to alter the
word [which] for the word [who] the
propoſition was rejected by the majority.
This inſtance may ſhew you of what
fort of men, the moſt learned, and even
the moſt reverend aſſemblies, are ſome-
times compoſed. But let us conſider the
conduct of a neighbouring nation. How
induſtrious have the French been to im-
prove their language? and to what a
ſtate of perfection have they brought
it ? Rome, by her conqueſts, made her
dialect univerſal : France, by her policy,
has done the ſame. By policy, I mean
the
encouragement of arts and ſciences ;
which will often render a nation more
powerful than arms. Nothing has con-
tributed ſo much to the purity and ex-
cellence
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 101
cellence of the French tongue, as the no-
ble academies eſtabliſhed for that pur.
poſe: and, until ſome public work of
the ſame kind is undertaken in England,
we cannot flatter ourſelves with any
hopes of amending the errors, or aſcer-
taining the limits of our ſtyle. I ſhall
not preſume even to whiſper to you,
that I think a deſign of this ſort is fuffi-
ciently momentous to attract the confi-
deration of our legiſlative powers. Their
thoughts are otherways employed, and
their faculties otherways applied. But
I will venture to ſay, that if to our hoſpi-
tals for lunatics, an hoſpital was added
for the reception, and ſupport of men of
ſenſe and learning, it would be of the
higheſt honour to the preſent age, and of
no leſs advantage to poſterity. I call it an
hoſpital, becauſe I ſuppoſe it to be erected
for the benefit of ſuch perfons, whoſe in-
firm fortunes, or difeaſed revenues, may
have rendered the ſtrength and abilities of
their minds weak and uſeleſs to the pub-
II
3
lic:
102
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
lic: for I entirely agree with ARISTOTLE,
where he ſays, in the words of his
ſcholiaſt, Eum præclara et magna vix poſſe
exequi et præftare, cui facultates defunt :
quoniam per amicos et civilem potentiam ve-
luti per inſtrumenta neceſſe eſt pleraque effici.
The reflexions, that ariſe from this theme,
I find, are driving me beyond the bounds
of a letter : therefore I ſhall only add,
that I heartily wiſh you may
think an
attention to your native language as uſe-
ful, and improving a ſtudy, as can be
purſued, in whatever ſtation of life Pro-
vidence may allot you.
There are two other letters in this vo-
lume extremely worthy of
The one is, To a young gentleman lately en-
tered into holy orders. The other is, To a
young lady on her marriage. The former,
ought to be read by all the young cler-
gymen in the three kingdoms, and the
latter, by all the new married women.
But, here again is the peculiar felicity of
Swift's writings; the letters are ad-
dreſſed
your notice.
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 103
dreſſed only to a young clergyman and a
young lady, but they are adapted to
every age and underſtanding. They con-
tain obſervations that delight and im-
prove every mind; and they will be
read, with pleaſure and advantage, by
the oldeſt, and moſt exemplary divines,
and by the moſt diſtinguiſhed, and moſt
accompliſhed ladies.
The reſt of the volume is filled up with
ſhort tracts, and papers of various forts:
moſtly humorous, and entertaining. You
will laugh at the ſtory in one of the In-
telligencers, of Whiſk and Swobbers: and
you
will wiſh the Tatler on thoſe inferior
duties of life, called Les petites Morales,
hung up in every 'ſquire's hall in England.
I am, my deareſt HAMILTON,
Your moſt affectionate Father,
ORR ER Y.
.
HA
LET-
10+
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
0000000000000000000000000000000
L E T T E R IX.
WE are now come, my dear Ha-
MILTON, to the ſecond volume of
Swift's works. It is filled with poetry :
but the poems in general are ſhort and
ſatirical. The
poem of the greateſt
length, and, I believe, the longeſt ever
compoſed by Dr. Swift, is of a very
extraordinary nature, and upon a very
extraordinary ſubject. It is called Ca-
DENUS and VANESSA. As a poem, it is
excellent in its kind, perfectly correct,
and admirably conducted. Swift, who
had the niceſt ear, is remarkably chaſte
and delicate in his rhymes. A bad rhyme
appeared to him one of the capital fins
in poetry; and yet it is a fin into which
ſome of our greateſt poets have fallen.
Dryden frequently: Pope ſometimes,
The former, was embarraſſed with a wife
and family, and was often under ſuch
neceſſitous circumſtances as to be ob-
liged
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 105
liged to publiſh, or to want ſubſiſtence.
The latter, was in a leſs confined, and
in a much more eaſy ſituation : he was
naturally judicious, and uncommonly
attentive to maintain the dignity of his
character Although his body was
weak, his mind was equal to the weight
of his laurel crown; and he wore it
not only with eaſe, but majeſty. Take
him as a poet, we ſhall not ſee his like again.
But why do I keep you in ſuſpenſe ? you
are impatient, I dare ſay, to know ſome
particulars of VANESSA. Her real name
was EstheR VANHOMRIGHa. She was
one of the daughters of BARTHOLOMEW
VANHOMRIGH, a Dutch merchant of
Amſterdam, who, upon the revolution,
went into Ireland, and was appointed,
by King WILLIAM, a commiſſioner
of the revenue. Her mother, whoſe
name I forget, was born in Ire-
land, of very mean extraction. Tho
Dutch merchant, by parfimony and pru.
a The name is pronounced VANNUMMERY.
dence,
106
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
dence, had collected a fortune of about
ſixteen thouſand pounds: he bequeath-
ed an equal diviſion of it to his
wife and his four children, of which
two were fons, and two were daughters.
The ſons, after the death of their father,
travelled abroad. The eldeſt died be-
yond ſea, and the youngeſt, ſurviving
his brother only a ſhort time, the whole
patrimony fell to his two ſiſters, ESTHER
and MARY.
With this increaſe of wealth, and
with heads and hearts elated by afflu-
ence, and unreſtrained by foreſight or
diſcretion, the widow VANHOMRIGH and
her two daughters quitted the illuxurious
ſoil of their native country, for the more
elegant pleaſures of the Engliſh court.
During their reſidence at London, they
lived in a courſe of prodigality that
ſtretched itſelf far beyond the limits of
their income, and reduced them to great
diſtreſs; in the midſt of which, the mo-
ther died, and the two daughters haſt-
ened
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 107
ened in all ſecrecy back to Ireland, be-
ginning their journey on a Sunday, to
avoid the interruption, and importuni-
ties of a certain fierce kind of animals
called bailiffs, who are not only ſworn
foes to wit and gaiety, but whoſe tyranny,
although it could not have reached the
deified Vanessa, might have been very
fatal to ESTHER VANHOMRIGH. Within
two years after their arrival in Ireland,
MARY the youngeſt ſiſter died, and the
ſmall remains of the ſhipwreckt fortune
centered in VANESSA.
Vanity makes terrible devaſtation in a
female breaſt. It batters down all re-
ſtraints of modeſty, and carries away
every ſeed of virtue. VANESSA was ex-
ceſſively vain. The character given of
her by CADENUS is fine painting, but,
in general, fictitious. She was fond of
dreſs: impatient to be admired : very
romantic in her turn of mind : ſuperior,
in her own opinion, to all her fex : full
of pertneſs, gaiety, and pride : not with
out
108
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
3
ފް
out ſome agreeable accompliſhments, but
far from being either beautiful or gen-
teel : ambitious, at any rate, to be
eſteemed a wit; and, with that view,
always affecting to keep company with
wits : a great reader, and a violent:ad-
mirer of poetry: happy in the thoughts
of being reputed Swift's concubine: but
ſtill aiming and intending to be his wife.
By nature haughty, and diſdainful, laok-
ing with the pity of contempt upon her
inferiors, and with the ſmiles of ſelf-
approbation upon her equals: but upon
Dr. Swift with the eyes of love. Her
love was founded in vanity, or, to uſe
a more faſhionable phraſe, in taſte. His
own lines are the beſt proof of my
aſſertion.
CADENUS many things had writ;
VANESSA much efteem'd his wit,
And call’d for his poetic works ;
Mean time the boy · in ſecret lurks,
a CUPID.
And
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 109
And while the book was in her hand,
The urchin, from his private ſtand,
Took aim, and ſhot with all his ſtrength
A dart of ſuch prodigious length ;
It pierc'd the feeble volume thro',
And deep transfix'd her boſom too.
Some lines, more moving than the reſt,
Stuck to the point that pierc'd her breaſt;
And born directly to her heart,
With pains unknown encreas'd the ſmart.
VANESSA, not in years a ſcore,
Dreams of a gown of forty four ;
Imaginary charms can find,
In eyes, with reading, almoſt blind :
CADENUS now no more appears
Declin'd in health, advanc'd in years
She fancies muſic in his tongue,
Nor further looks, but thinks him young
The poem itſelf is dated in the year
1713,
when Swift was in his meridian
altitude; favoured by the courtiers ; ftat-
tered, feared, and admired by the great-
eſt men in the nation.
By
110
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
By the verſes which I have already re-
cited, it may be preſumed, that the
lady was firſt ſmitten with the fame and
character of CADENUS, and afterwards
with his perſon. Her firſt thoughts pur-
ſued a phantom. Her later paſſion de-
fired a ſubſtance. The manner in which
The diſcovered her inclinations, is poeti-
cally deſcribed in theſe lines.
She own'd the wand'ring of her thoughts,
But he muſt anſwer for her faults.
She well remember'd, to her coſt,
That'all his leffons were not loſt.
Two maxims ſhe cou'd ſtill produce,
And fad experience taught their uſe:
That virtue, pleas'd by being ſhown,
Knows nothing which it dare not own :
Can make us, without fear, diſcloſe
Our inmoſt ſecrets to our foes :
That common forms were not deſign'd
Directors to a noble mind.
Now, ſaid the nymph, to let you ſee,
My actions with your rules agree;
That
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 111
That I can vulgar forms deſpiſe,
And have no ſecrets to diſguiſe,
I knew, by what you ſaid and writ,
How dang'rous things were men of wit;
You caution'd me againſt their charms,
But never gave me equal arms:
Your leſſons found the weakeſt part,
Aim'd at the head, and reach'd the heart.
Suppoſing this account to be true, and
I own to you, my Ham, I can ſcarce
think it otherwiſe, it is evident, that the
fair VANESSA had made a ſurprizing
progreſs in the philoſophic doctrines,
which ſhe had received from her pre-
ceptor. His rules were certainly of a
moſt extraordinary kind. He taught
her, that vice, as ſoon as it defied ſhame,
was immediately changed into virtue.
That vulgar forms were not binding up
on certain choice fpirits, to whom either
the writings, or the perſons of men of
wit were acceptable. She heard the
leſſon with attention, and imbibed the
philo-
112
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
philoſophy with eagerneſs. The max-
ims ſuited her exalted turn of mind. She
imagined that if the theory appeared fo
charming, the practice muſt be much
more delightful. The cloſe connection
of ſoul and body ſeemed to require, in
the eye of a female philoſopher, that
each ſhould ſucceed the other in all
pleaſurable enjoyments. The former had
been ſufficiently regaled, why muſt the
latter remain unſatisfied ? “ Nature, ſaid
VANESSA, “ abhors a vacuum, and na-
“ ture ought always to be obeyed.” She
communicated theſe ſentiments to her tu-
tor, but he ſeemed not to comprehend
her meaning, nor to conceive the di-
finctio rationis that had taken riſe in his
own ſchool. He anſwered her in the
non-eſſential modes. He talked of friend-
ſhip, of the delights of reaſons of gra-
titude, reſpect and eſteem. He almost
preached upon virtue, and he muttered
fome indiſtinct phraſes concerning cha-
ſtity.
So
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.113
So unaccountable a conductin CADENUS
may be thought rather to proceed from
defects in nature, than from the ſcrupu-
lous difficulties of a tender conſcience.
Such a ſuppoſition will ſtill appear more
ſtrong, if we recollect the diſtant man-
ner in which Swift cohabited with
STELLA, colder, if poſſible, after, than
before, ſhe was his wife: and I now re-
collect ſome of his own lines that ſeem to
confirm the ſurmiſe, as they contain an
inſinuation againſt VANESSA, not per-
haps ſo much intended to wound her
reputation, as to ſave his own.
But what ſucceſs VANESSA met
Is to the world a ſecret yet.
Whether the nymph, to pleaſe her fwain,
Talks in a high romantic ſtrain;
Or whether he at laſt deſcends,
To act with leſs ſeraphic ends;
Or to compound the buſineſs, whether
They temper love and books together,
I
Muſt
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
114
Muſt never to mankind be told,
Nor ſhall the conſcious muſe unfold.
It is impoſſible to read this cruel hint
without great indignation againft the
conſcious mufe, eſpecially as it is the fi-
niſhing ſtroke of a picture, which was
already drawn in too looſe a garment,
and too unguarded a poſture. In this
inſtance, I am afraid the Dean muſt re-
main inexcuſable.
VANESSA, in ſome time after the death
of her ſiſter, retired to Selbridge, a ſmall
houſe and eſtate that had been purchafed
by her father, within ten or twelve miles
of Dublin. Spleen and diſappointment
were the companions, of her folitude.
The narrowneſs of her income, the cold-
neſs of her lover, the loſs of her repu .
tation, all contributed to make her miſer-
able, and to encreaſe the frenzical diſpo-
ſition of her mind. In this melancholy
ſituation ſhe remained ſeveral years, dur-
ing which time CADenus viſited her fre-
quently
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 115
an
quently. Their particular converſation,
as it paſſed without witneſſes, muft for
ever remain unknown: but, in general,
it is certain, that ſhe often preſfed him
to marry her.
His anſwers were rather
turns of wit than poſitive denials; till at
laſt, being unable to ſuſtain her weight
of miſery any longer, ſhe writ a very
tender epiſtle to Cadenus, inſulting
peremptotily upon as ferious an
ſwer, and an immediate acceptance,
or abſolute refuſal of her, as his wife.
His reply was delivered by his own
hand. He brought it with him when
he made his final vifit at Selbridge: and
throwing down the letter upon her
table, with great paſſion haſtened back
to his horſe, carrying in his countenance
the frowns of anger and indignation:
Dr. Świft had a natural ſeverity of
face, which even his fmiles could ſcarce
ſoften, or his utmoſt gaiety render placid
and ſerene: but when that ſternneſs of
viſage was encreaſed by rage, it is ſcarce
I 2
poſſible
116
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
poſſible to imagine looks, or features, that
carried in them more terror and auſterity.
VANESSA had ſeen him in all tempers,
and from his outward appearance ſhe
gueſſed at the inward contents of his let-
ter. She read it with as much reſolution
as the preſent cruelty of her fate, and
the raging pride of her heart, would
permit. She found herſelf entirely
diſcarded from his friendſhip and
converſation. Her offers were treated
with infolence and diſdain.
She met
with reproaches inſtead of love, and
with tyranny inſtead of affection. She
had long thrown away the gentle leni-
tives of virtue; which, upon this occa-
fion, might have proved healing ingre-
dients to ſo deep, and ſo dangerous a
wound. She had preferred wit to reli-
gion, ſhe had utterly deſtroyed her cha-
racter, and her conſcience : and ſhe was
now fallen a prey to the horror of her
own thoughts.
.
Tum
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
117
Tum vero infelix fatis exterrita Dido
Mortem orat : tædet cæli convexa tueri,
She did not ſurvive many days the
letter delivered to her by CADENUS,
but, during that ſhort interval, ſhe was
fufficiently compoſed, to cancel a will
made in Swift's favour, and to make
another, wherein the left her fortune
(which, by long retirement, was in
ſome meaſure retrieved) to her two
executors, Dr. BERKLEY, the pre-
fent Biſhop of Cloyne, and Mr. MAR-
SHALL, one of the King's Serjeants at
law. She had choſen Mr, MARSHALL,
not only as he had an excellent charac-
ter, but as he was her relation. She
hąd little perſonal acquaintance with
Dr. BERKLEY: his virtues, and his
ge-
nius, were univerſally known : yet other
motives perhaps induced her to appoint
him a joint executor: in ſuch an ap-
pointment, ſhe probably deſigned to mor-
I
tify
1.18
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
7
tify the pride of Dr. Swift, by let-
ting him ſee, that, in her laſt thoughts,
ſhe preferred a ſtranger before him.
Thus periſhed, at Selbridge, under all
the agonies of deſpair, Mrs. Esther
VANHOMRIGH; a miſerable example of
an ill-fpent life, fantaſtic wit, viſi-
onary ſchemes, and female weakneſs.
My paper ſcarce allows room for
the affectionate name of
ORRERY.
我 ​*****************************
L E T T E R X.
:
I
My dear HAMILTON,
Have received yours of the 24th in-
ſtant. You ſeem ſo much pleaſed
with the commentaries relating to VA-
NESSA, and you have expreſſed ſo much
ſatisfaction in my account of Stella,
that probably you wiſh Swift to have
had
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 119
He trifled away
had as many wives and miſtreſſes as So-
LOMON, in order to furniſh me with
perpetual materials for the hiſtory of a
Lady. It is true, my friend the Dean
kept company with many of the fair
ſex, but they were rather his amuſement
than his admiration.
many hours in their converſation, he
filled many pages in their praiſe, and by
the power of his head, he gained the
character of a lover, without the leaſt
aſſiſtance from his heart. To this parti-
cular kind of pride, ſupported by the
bent of his genius, and joined by the
exceſſive coldneſs of his nature, VANESSA
owed the ruin of her reputation, and
from the ſame cauſes, STELLA remained
an unacknowledged wife. If we conſider
Swift's behaviour, ſo far only as it re-
lates to women, we ſhall find, that he
looked upon them rather as buſts, thận
as whole figures. In his panegyrical
deſcriptions, he has feldom deſcended
lower than the center of their hearts :
I 4
or
I 20
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
or if ever he has deſigned a compleat
ſtatue, it has been generally caſt in a
dirty, or in a diſagreeable mould: as if
the ſtatuary had not conceived, or had
not experienced, that juſtneſs of
pro-
portion, that delicacy of limb, and
thoſe pleaſing, and graceful attitudes
which have conſtituted the fex to be the
moſt beautiful part of the creation. If
you review his ſeveral poems to STELLA,
you will find them fuller of affection
than deſire, and more expreſſive of
friendſhip, than of love. For example,
Thou, STELLA, wert no longer young,
When firſt for thee my harp I ſtrung;
Without one word of Cupid's darts,
Of killing eyes, or bleeding hearts :
With friendſhip and eſteem poffeft,
I ne'er admitted Love a gueſt,
Moſt of the poems, which are abſo-
lutely addreſſed to STELLA, or which
deſcribe her in a variety of attitudes,
.
turn
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 121
turn upon her age : a kind of excuſe
perhaps for Swift's want of love.
I began one of my former letters, my
dear HAMILTON, by a declaration that
it was impoſſible for me to paſs a very
minute comment upon the various pieces
that he has written; and I muſt renew
the ſame declaration in regard to his
poems. They are not only mingled
improperly, in points of dates, and
ſubjects, but many, very many of them,
are temporary, trifling, and I had almoſt
ſaid puerile. Several of them are per-
ſonal, and conſequently ſcarce amuſing ;
or at leaſt, they leave a very ſmall
impreſſion upon our minds. Such
indeed as are likely to draw your at-
tention, are exquiſite, and ſo peculiarly
his own, that whoever has dared
to imitate him in theſe, or in any
of his works, has conſtantly failed in
the attempt. Upon a general view of his
poetry, we ſhall find him, as in his other
performances, an uncommon, ſurpriz-
ing,
I 22
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ing, heteroclite genius : luxuriousin
his fancy, lively in his ideas, humorous
in his deſcriptions, and bitter, exceeding
bitter in his ſatyr. The reſtleſſneſs of
his imagination, and the diſappointment
of his ambition, have both contributed
to hinder him from undertaking any
poetical work of length or importance.
His wit was ſufficient to every labour :
no flight could have wearied the ſtrength
of his pinions : perhaps if the extenſive
views of his nature had been fully fa-
tisfied, his airy motions had been more
regular, and leſs ſudden. But, he now
appears, like an eagle that is ſometimes
chained, and at that particular time, for
want of nobler, and more proper food,
diverts his confinement, and appeaſes his
hunger, by deſtroying the gnats, butter-
flies, and other wretched inſects, that
unluckily happen to buzz, or futter
within his reach.
While I have been reading over this
volume of his poetry, I have conſidered
him
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT, 123
him as an Ægyptian hieroglyphic, which,
though it had an unnatural, and fre-
quently an indecent appearance, yet it
always contained ſome ſecret marks of
wiſdom, and ſometimes of deep mora-
lity. The ſubjects of his poems are
often nauſeous, and the performances
beautifully diſagreeable.
The Lady's Dreſſing Room has been
univerſally condemned, as deficient in
point of delicacy, even to the higheſt
degree. The beſt apology that can be
made in its favour, is to ſuppoſe, that
the author exhibited his CELIA in the
moſt hideous colours he could find, leſt
ſhe might be miſtaken as a goddeſs,
when ſhe was only a mortal. External
beauty is very alluring to youth and in-
experience; and Swift, by pulling off
the borrowed plumes of his harpy, diſ-
covers at once a frightful bird of prey,
and by making her offenſive, renders her
leſs dangerous and inviting. Such, I
hope, was his deſign ; but let his views
and
124
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and motives have been ever ſo beneficial,
his general want of delicacy and deco-
rum, muſt not hope even to find the
ſhadow of an excuſe; for it is impoſſi-
ble not to own, that he too frequently
forgets that politeneſs and tenderneſs of
manners, which are undoubtedly due to
human kind. From his early, and repeated
diſappointments, he became a miſan-
thrope. If his mind had been more
equal and content, I am willing to believe,
that he would have viewed the works
of nature with a more benign aſpect.
And perhaps, under a leſs conſtant ro-
tation of anxiety, he might have pre-
ſerved his ſenſes to the laſt ſcene of life,
and might have enjoyed that calm exit
from the ſtage, for which his friend
HORACE ſo earneſtly ſupplicates APOLLO,
Frui paratis et valido mihi
Latoe dones, et precor, integra
Cum mente: nec turpem ſenectam
Degere, nec citharâ carentem.
I have
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 125
I have already told you, that his pride
was ſo great as ſcarce to admit any body
to the leaſt ſhare of his friendſhip, except
ſuch who could amuſe him, or ſuch who
could do him honour. To theſe two
different claſſes, we owe many of his
poems. His companions and humble
followers find themſelves immortalized by
the inſertion of their names in addreſſes
to STELLA, or in other miſcellaneous
pieces written in an eaſy, although not
in a careleſs manner. His more exalted
friends, whoſe ſtations and characters
did him honour, are treated in a diffe-
rent ſtyle: and you will perceive a real
dignity, and a moſt delicate kind of
wit in all his poems to Lord OxFORD,
Lord PETERBOROUGH, Lord CARTERET,
Mr. PULTENEY, and I think I may
particularly add, in a poem to the
Counteſs of WINCHELSEA, and another
· Now Earl of GRANVILLE.
b Now Earl of BATH.
c Under the name of ARDELIA.
to
126
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
to Mrs. BiddY FLOYDE. Theſe names
abetted him in his purfuit of fame.
They reflected back the glory which he
gave. But, ftill I cannot recollect one
poem, nay, ſcarce a couplet, to his no-
ble patron Lord BOLINGBROKE. In that
inſtance, he has been as filent, as
VIRGIL has been to Horace, and yet
he certainly had not a grain of envy
in
his compoſition.
I think I can diſcern a third kind of
ftyle in his poems addreſſed to Mr. Pope,
Mr. Gay, Dr. DELANY, and Dr. YOUNG.
When he writes to them, there is a mix-
ture of eafe, dignity, familiarity, and
affection. They were his intimate
friends, whom he loved fincerely, and
whom he wiſhed to accompany into the
poetical regions of eternity.
I have juſt now caſt my eye over a
poem called Death and Daphne, which
makes me recollect an odd incident rela-
ting to that nymph. Swift, foon after
our acquaintance, introduced me to her,
as
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 127
as to one of his female favourites. I
had ſcarce been half an hour in her
company, before ſhe aſked me, if I had
ſeen the Dean's poem upon Death and
Daphne. As I told her I had not, ſhe
immediately unlocked a cabinet, and
bringing out the manuſcript, read it
to me with a ſeeming ſatisfaction,
of which, at that time, I doubted the
ſincerity. While ſhe was reading, the
Dean was perpetually correcting her for
bad pronunciation, and for placing a
wrong emphaſis upon particular words.
As ſoon as ſhe had gone thorough the
compofition, the aſſured me fmilingly,
that the portrait of Daphne was drawn
for herfelf: I begged to be excuſed from
believing it, and proteſted that I could not
fee one feature that had the leaſt reſem-
blance, but the Dean immediately burſt
into a fit of laughter. “ You fancy, ſays
he; that you are very polite, but you are
« much miſtaken. That Lady had rp
" ther be a Daphne drawn by me, than
а.
128 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
a SACHARISSA by any other pencil,"
She confirmed what he had ſaid, with
great earneſtneſs, ſo that I had no other
method of retrieving my error, than by
whiſpering in her ear, as I was conduct-
ing her down ſtairs to dinner, that in-
deed I found
.:
“ Her band as dry and cold as lead.”
You ſee the command which
SWIFT had over all his females : and
you
would have ſmiled to have found
his houſe, a conſtant ſeraglio of very
virtuous women, who attended him from
morning till night, with an obedience,
an awe, and an aſſiduity, that are fel-
dom paid to the richeſt, or the moſt
powerful lovers ; no, not even to the
Grand Signor himſelf.
To theſe Ladies, SWIFT owed the
publication of many pieces, which ought
never to have been delivered to the preſs.
e communicated every compoſition as
foon
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 129
ſoon as finiſhed, to his female fenate,
who, not only paſſed their judgement on
the performance, but conſtantly aſked,
and almoſt as conſtantly obtained, a
copy of it. You cannot be ſurprized
that it was immediately afterwards ſeen
in print : and when printed, became
a part of his works. He lived much at
home, and
and was continually writing,
when alone. Not any of his Senators
preſumed to approach him when he ſig-
nified his pleaſure to remain in private,
and without interruption. His night-
gown and ſlippers were not eaſier put
on or off, than his attendants. No
Prince ever met with more flattery to
his own perſon, or more devotion to his
own mandates. This deſpotic power not
only blinded him, but gave a looſe to
paſſions that ought to have been kept
under a proper reſtraint. I am ſorry
to ſay, that whole nations are ſometimes
ſacrificed to his reſentment: for reflections
of that fort appear to me the leaſt juſti-
K
fiable
+
130
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
fiable of any kind of fatyr. You will read
his Acerrima with indignation, and his
Minutiæ with regret. Yet I muſt add, that
ſince he has deſcended ſo low as to write,
and, ſtill ſo much lower, as to print
riddles, he is excellent even in that kind
of verſification. The lines are ſmoother,
the expreſſions are neater, and the
thought is clofer purſued than in any
other riddle-writer whatever. But, SWIFT
compofing riddles, is TITIAN painting
draught-boards, which muſt have been
inexcuſable, while there remained a ſign-
poft painter in the world.
At the latter end of the volume, you
will find two Latin poems. The firſt,
An epiftle to Dr. SHERIDAN; the laſt,
A deſcription of the rocks at Carbery in
Ireland. The Dean was extremely ſo-
licitous, that they ſhould be printed
among his works : and what is no leſs
true than amazing, he aſſumed to him-
ſelf more vanity upon theſe two Latin
poems, than upon many of his beſt
Engliſh
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 131
Engliſh performances. It is ſaid, that
Milton in his own judgement preferred
the Paradiſe regained to the Paradiſë
loft. There poſſibly might be found
fome excuſe for ſuch a preference, but
in Swift's caſe there can be none. He
underſtood the Latin language perfectly
well, and he read it conſtantly, but he
was no Latin poet. And if the Carberia
rupes, and the Epiftola ad THOMAM SHE-
RIDAN, had been the produce of any
other author, they muſt have undergone
a ſevere cenſure from Dr. SWIFT.
Here I ſhall diſmiſs this volume of
his poems, which has drawn me into a
greater length of letter than I intended.
Adieu, my Ham, believe me ever,
Your affe&tionate Father,
ORRE RY.
3
K 2
L E T.
132
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
08040980080
L E T T E R XI.
T Hoekstevere un amestecate per
My dear HAMİLTON,
HE third volume of Swift's
works contains The travels of LE-
MUEL, GULLIVER into ſeveral remote na-
tions of the world. They are divided into
four parts ; the firſt, a voyage to Lilli-
put ; the ſecond, a voyage to Brobding-
nag ; the third, to Laputa and other
iſlands; the fourth, and moſt extraordi-
nary, to the country of the Houyhnhnms.
Theſe voyages are intended as a moral
political romance, in which Swift ſeems
to have exerted the ſtrongeſt efforts of
a fine irregular genius. But while his
imagination and his wit delight, the ve-
nomous ſtrokes of his fatyr, although in
ſome places juſt, are carried into ſo uni-
verſal a ſeverity, that not only all hu-
man actions, but human nature itſelf, is
placed
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 133
placed in the worſt light. Perfection in
every attribute is not indeed allotted to
particular men: but, among the whole
ſpecies, we diſcover ſuch an aſſemblage
of all the great, and amiable virtues,
as may convince us, that the original
order of nature contains in it the great-
eſt beauty. It is directed in a right line,
but it deviates into curves and irregular
motions, by various attractions, and dif-
turbing cauſes. Different qualifications
ſhine out in different men. Bacon and
NEWTON (not to mention Boyle) ſhew
the divine extent of the human mind :
of which power SWIFT could not be in-
ſenſible ; but as I have often told you,
his diſappointments rendered him ſple-
netic, and angry with the whole world.
Education, habit, and conſtitution,
give a ſurprizing variety of characters ;
and, while they produce ſome particular
qualities, are apt to check others. For-
titude of mind feldom attends a feden-
tary life: nor is the man, whoſe ambitious
views
K3
134
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
views are croſſed, ſcarce ever afterwards
indued with benevolence of heart. The
ſame mind, that is capable of exerting
the greateſt virtue, by ſome defect in the
firſt ſteps of education, often degenerates
into the greateſt vice. Theſe effects take
their ſource from caufes almoſt mecha-
nical. The ſoul, in our preſent ſituati-
on, is blended and encloſed with cor-
poreal ſubſtance, and the matter of
which our body is compoſed, produces
ſtrange impulſes upon the mind; but the
inſtances that might illuſtrate, and ex-
plain the different effects ariſing from
this formation, are too digreſſively ex-
tenſive for my preſent plan.
To correct vice, by ſhewing her de-
formity in oppoſition to the beauty of
virtue, and to amend the falſe fyftems of
philoſophy, by pointing out the errors,
and applying falutary means to avoid
them, is a noble deſign. This was the
general intent, I would fain flatter my-
ſelf, of my hieroglyphic friend.
GULLIVER's
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 135
GULLIVER's travels are chiefly to be
looked upon as an irregular eſſay of
Swift's peculiar wit and humour. Let
us take a view of the two firſt parts to-
gether. The inhabitants of Lilliput are
repreſented, as if reflected from a con-
vex mirrour, by which every object is
reduced to a deſpicable minuteneſs. The
inhabitants of Brobding nag, by a contrary
mirrour, are enlarged to a ſhocking de-
formity. In Lilliput we behold a ſet of
puny inſects, or animalcules in human
ſhape, ridiculouſly engaged in affairs of
importance. In Brobdingnag the mon-
ſters of enormous ſize are employed in
trifles.
LEMUEL GULLIVER has obſerved great
exactneſs in the juſt proportion, and ap-
pearances of the ſeveral objects thus leſ-
fened and magnified: but he dwells too
much upon theſe optical deceptions. The
mind is tired with a repetition of them,
eſpecially as he points out no beauty, nor
uſe in ſuch amazing diſcoveries, which
might
K 4
136 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
might have been ſo continued as to have
afforded improvement, at the ſame time
that they gave aſtoniſhment. Upon the
whole, he too often ſhews an indelicacy
that is not agreeable, and exerts his vein
of humour moſt improperly in ſome
places, where (I am afraid) he glances
at religion.
In his deſcription of Lilliput, he ſeems
to have had England more immediately
in view. In his deſcription of Blefuſcu
he ſeems to intend the people and king-
dom of France : yet the allegory between
theſe nations is frequently interrupted,
and ſcarce
any where compleat. Several
juſt ſtrokes of ſatyr are ſcattered here
and there upon errors in the conduct of
our government; and, in the ſixth chap-
ter of his voyage to Brobdingnag, he
gives an account of the political ſtate of
Europe : his obſervations are delivered
with his uſual ſpirit of humour and ſe-
verity. He appears moſt particularly af,
fected with the proceedings of the courts
of
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 137
of judicature, and complains of being
almoſt ruined by a Chancery fuit, which
was determined in his favour with coſts. It
muſt be confeſſed, that inſtances of this
kind are too frequent in our courts of
juſtice, and they leave us no room to
boaſt of the execution of our preſent
laws, however excellent the laws, in their
own original foundation, may have been.
Judgement, when turned into wormwood, is
bitter, but delays, as Lord Bacon ob
ſerves, turn it into vinegar: it becomes
ſharp, and corroding : and certainly it is
more eligible to die immediately by the
wound of an enemy, than to decay lin-
gering by poiſon, adminiſtered from a
ſeeming friend.
The ſeventh chapter of the voyage of
Brobdingnag contains ſuch ſarcaſms on the
ſtructure of the human body, as too
plainly ſhew us, that the author was
unwilling to loſe any opportunity of de-
baſing and ridiculing his own ſpecies.
Here
138
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Here a reflexion naturally occurs,
which, without any ſuperſtition, leads
me tacitly to admire, and confeſs the
ways of Providence : for this great ge-
nius, this mighty wit, who ſeemed to
ſcoff, and ſcorn at all mankind, lived
not only to be an example to puniſh his
own pride, and to terrify ours, but un-
derwent ſome of the greateſt miſeries to
which human nature is liable. The
par-
ticulars of this affertion will appear, by
copying a letter which one of his relati-
ons ſent to me, in anſwer to my en-
quiries after his ſituation.
THE
AND WRITINGS OF DriSWIFT. 139
*
Dublin, November 22, 1742.
1:3
I told you
My LORD
TH
HE eaſy manner, in which you reproach
me for not acquainting you with the poor
Dean's ſituation, lays a freſh obligation upon
me; yet mean as an excuſe is for a fault, I
ſhall attempt one to your Lordſhip, and only
for this reaſon, that you may not think me
capable of negle&ting any thing you could com-
mand me. I told in my laſt letter, the
Dean's underſtanding was quite gone, and I
feared the farther particulars would only ſhock
the tenderneſs of your nature, and the melan-
choly ſcene make your heart ach, as it has of-
ten done mine.
I was the laſt perſon whom
he knew, and when that part of his memory
failed, he was ſo outragious at feeing any
body, that I was forced to leave him, nor
could be reſt for a night or two after ſeeing
any perfon: ſo that all the attendance which
I could pay him was calling twice a week to
enquire after his health, and to obſerve that
proper care was taken of him, and durſt only
look at him while his back was towards me,
fearing to diſcompofe bim. He walked ten
bours
140
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
bours a day, would not eat or drink if his
ſervant ſtayed in the room.
His meat was
ſerved up ready cut, and ſometimes it would
lie an hour on the table before he would touch
it, and then eat it walking. About fix weeks
ago, in one night's time, bis left eye fwelled
as large as an egg, and the lid Mr. Nichols
(his furgeon) thought would mortify, and
many large boils appeared upon his arms and
body. The torture he was in, is not to be
deſcribed. Five perſons could ſcarce hold
him for a week, from tearing out his own
eyes: and, for near a month, he did not ſeep
two hours in twenty four: yet a moderate ap-
petite continued; and what is more to be
wondered at, the laſt day of his illneſs, he
knew me perfectly well, took me by the hand,
called me by my name, and mewed the
fame pleaſure as uſual in ſeeing me.
I aſked
him, if he would give me a dinner? He ſaid,
to be ſure, my old friend. Thus be continued
that day, and knew the Doctor and Surgeon,
and all bis family fo well, that Mr. NICHOLS
thought it poſſible he might return to a fare
of underſtanding, ſo as to be able to call for
what he wanted, and to bear ſome of his old
friends to amuſe bim. But alas! this pleaſure
to me was but of ſhort duration; for the next
day
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 141
He is now
day or two it was all over, and proved to be
only pain that had rouzed him.
free from torture : his eye almoſt well ; very
quiet, and begins to ſleep, but cannot, with-
out great difficulty, be prevailed on to walk
a turn about his room : and yet in this
the Phyſicians think he may hold out for ſome
time. I am, my Lord,
Your Lordſhip's moſt obedient
humble ſervant,
in this way
M. WHITEWAY.
What a ſhocking, what a melancholy
account is this! of how ſmall eſtimation
muſt the greateſt genius appear in the fight
of GOD!
About a year and a half afterwards, I
received a letter from another of his relati-
ons, DEANE SWIFT, Eſq; in anſwer to a
report, which I had mentioned to him, of
Dr. Swift's having viewed himſelf (as
he was led acroſs the room) in a glaſs,
and crying out,
O poor old man!" The
letter is written long after the Dean had
been totally deprived of reaſon.
«
My
142
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Dublin, April 4, 1744
My LORD,
A S to the ſtory of O poor old man! I
enquired into it. The Dean did ſay fome-
thing upon his feeing himſelf in the glaſs, but
neither Mrs. RIDGEWAY, nor the lower
fervants could tell me what it was Þe ſaid. I
deſired them to recollect it, by the time when
I pould come again to the deanery. I have
been there fince, they cannot recolleet it. A
thouſand ſtories have been invented of him
within theſe two years, and impoſed upon the
world. I thought this might have been one
of them: and yet I am now inclined to think,
there
may
be fome truth in it: for on Sunday
the 17th of March, as be ſat in bis chair,
upon the houſekeeper's moving a knife from
bim as he was going to catch at it, be
Shrugged his ſhoulders, and, rocking himſelf,
ſaid, I am what I am, I am what I am:
and, about fra minutes afterwards, repeated
the ſame words two or three times over.
His ſervant ſhaves bis cheeks, and all his face
as low as the tip of his chin, once a week :
but under the chin, and about the throat,
when the hair grows long, it is cut with
fcifars,
Some-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 143
me.
Sometimes he will not utter a ſyllable : at
other times be will ſpeak incoherent words :
but he never yet, as far as I could hear,
talked nonſenſe, or ſaid a fooliſh thing.
About four months ago he gave me great
trouble : be ſeemed to have a mind to talk to
In order to try what he would ſay, I
told him, I came to dine with him, and im-
mediately his houſekeeper, Mrs. RIDGEWAY,
faid, Won't you give Mr. Swift a glaſs
of wine, Sir ? he forugged his ſhoulders, juſt
as be uſed to do when he had a mind that a
friend ſhould ſpend the evening with him.
Shrugging his ſhoulders, your Lordſhip may
remember, was as much as to ſay, - You'll
so ruin me in wine.” I own, I was ſcarce
able to bear the fight. Soon after, he again
endeavoured, with a good deal of pain, to
find words to speak to me : at laſt, not being
able, after many efforts, be gave a heavy fig”,
and, I think, was afterwards filent. This
puts me in mind of what he ſaid about five
days ago.
He endeavoured ſeveral times to
Speak to his ſervant (now and then he calls bim
by bis name) at laſt, not finding words to.ex-
prefs what he would be at, after ſome uneaf-
neſs, he ſaid, « I am a fool.” Not long
ago, the ſervant took up his watch that lay
upon
144 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
upon tbe table to ſee what o'clock it was, be
laid, “Bring it here:” and when it was
brought, he looked very attentively at it:
ſome time ago, the ſervant was breaking a
large ſubborn coal, he ſaid,
« That's a
.." ſtone, you blockhead.”
In a fews days, or ſome very ſhort time,
after guardians bad been appointed for bim,
I went into bis dining room, where he was
walking, I ſaid ſomething to him very inhg-
nificant, 1 know not what ; but, inſtead of
making any kind of anſwer to it, he ſaid,
“ Go, Go," pointing with his band to the
door, and immediately afterwards, raiſing
bis hand to his head, be ſaid, “ My beſt un-
derſtanding,” and fo broke off abruptly,
and walked away. I am, my Lord,
Your Lordſhip’s moſt obedient,
and moſt humble ſervant,
DEANE SWIFT.
Theſe two letters will not probably oc-
caſion in you very chearful ſpeculations.
Let us return back therefore to the Lilli-
patians, and the Brobdingnaggians ; where
you will find many ridiculous adventures,
éven
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 145
cven ſuch as muſt have excited mirth
from HERACLITUs. Where indelicacies
do not intervene, the narrative is very
entertaining and humorous. Several
juſt ſtrokes of ſatyr are ſcattered up
and
down upon political errors in govern-
ment. In ſome parts, GULLIVER ſeems
to have had particular incidents, if not
particular perſons, in his view. His ob-
fervations on education are uſeful: and
ſo are his improvements on the inſtituti-
ons of LYCURGUS. Upon reading over
the two firſt parts of theſe travels, I
think that I can diſcover a very great re-
ſemblance between certain paſſages in
Gulliver's voyage to Lilliput, and the
voyage of CYRANO DE BERGERAC to the
fun and moon.
CYRANO DE BERGERAC is a French
author of a ſingular character, who had
a very peculiar turn of wit and humour,
in many reſpects reſembling that of
Swift. He wanted the advantages of
learning, and a regular education : his
L
imagi-
146
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
imagination was leſs guarded, and cor-
rect, but more agreeably extravagant.
He has introduced into his philoſophical
romance, the fyftem of DESCARTES
(which was then much admired) inter-
mixt with ſeveral fine ſtrokes of juſt fa-
tyr on the wild, and immechanical en-
quiries of the philoſophers, and aſtrono-
mers of that age : and in many parts he
has evidently directed the plan, which
the Dean of St. PATRICK's has purſued.
I am ſorry, and yet, in candour, I
ought to obſerve, that GULLIVER, in his
voyage to Lilliput, dares even to exert
his vein of humour ſo liberally, as to
place the refurrection (one of the moſt
encouraging principles of the Chriſtian
religion) in a ridiculous, and
temptible light". Why ſhould that ap-
pointment be denied to man, or appear
fo
very extraordinary in the human
kind, which the Author of nature
has illuſtrated in the vegetable ſpecies,
con-
a
Page 55.
where
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 147
where the feed dies and corrupts, before
it can riſe again to new beauty and
glory? But I am writing out of my
province; and that I may be tempted
no farther, here let me end the criticiſm
upon the two firſt parts of Gulliver's
travels, the concluſion of which, I mean
Gulliver's eſcape from BROBDINGNAG,
is humorous, ſatyrical,' and decent. I
am, my deareſt HAM, by duty and in-
clination,
Your beſt friend,
and moſt affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
L E T T E R XII.
TH
My dear HAMILTON,
HE third part of Gulliver's tra-
vels are in general written againſt
chymiſts, mathematicians, mechanics,
and projectors of all kinds.
L2
SWIFT
148
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Swift was little acquainted with ma-
thematical knowledge, and was prejudi-
ced againſt it, by obſerving the ſtrange
effects it produced in thoſe, who applied
themſelves entirely to that ſcience. No
part of human literature has given
greater ſtrength to the mind, or has
produced greater benefits to mankind,
than the ſeveral branches of learning
that may paſs under the general deno-
mination of mathematics. But the
abuſes of this ſtudy, the idle, thin, im-
mechanical refinements of it, are juſt
ſubjects of ſatyr. The real uſe of
knowledge is to invigorate, not to ener-
vate the faculties of reaſon. Learning de-
generates into a ſpecies of madneſs, when
it is not ſuperior to what it poſſeſſeth.
The ſcientific powers are moſt evident,
when, they are capable of exerting
themſelves in the ſocial duties of life :
when, they wear no chains, but can
freely diſengage themſelves, and like a
ſound conſtitution of body, riſe chear-
ful,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 149
ful, and more vigorous by the food they
have acquired, being neither oppreſſed,
nor rendered ſtupid by the labours of
digeſtion.
Lord Bacon has juſtly expoſed the
vain purſuits of oſtentatious pedants in
the different parts of learning; and their
unaccountable temerity in deducing ge-
neral rules from arbitrary maxims, or
few experiments : he has likewiſe fixed
upon a ſure and certain baſis, the proce-
dure and limits of the human under-
ſtanding. Swift has purſued the ſame
plan in a different manner, and has
placed the imaginary ſchemes of all
pre-
tenders, in a more ludicrous, and there-
fore in a more proper light,
Ridiculum acri
Fortius ac melius magnas plerumque fecat res.
He cannot be ſuppoſed to condemn
uſeful experiments, or the right appli-
cation of them : but he ridicules the
vain
L. 3
150
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
vain attempts, and irregular productions
of thoſe raſh men, who, like IXION,
embracing a cloud inſtead of a goddeſs,
plagued the world with centaurs, whilſt
JUPITER, from the embraces of a Juno,
and an ALCMENA, bleſſed the earth
with an HEBE, and an HERCULES.
However wild the deſcription of the
Aying iſland, and the manners, and va-
rious projects of the philoſophers of
Lagado may appear, yet it is a real
picture embelliſhed with much latent
wit and humour. It is a ſatyr upon
thoſe aſtronomers and mathematicians,
who have ſo entirely dedicated their
time to the planets, that they have been
careleſs of their family and country, and
have been chiefly anxious, about the
economy and welfare of the upper
worlds. But if we conſider Swift's
romance in a ſerious light, we ſhall find
him of opinion, that thoſe determina-
tions in philofophy, which at preſent
ſeem to the moſt knowing men to be
perfectly
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 151
perfectly well founded and underſtood,
are in reality unſettled, or uncertain,
and may perhaps ſome ages hence be
as much deſcried, as the axioms of
ARISTOTLE are at this day. Sir ISAAC
Newton and his notions may here-
after be out of faſhion. There is
a kind of mode in philoſophy, as well
as in other things : and ſuch modes
often change more from the humour
and caprice of men, than either from
the unreaſonable, or the ill-founded
concluſions of the philoſophy itſelf. The
reaſonings of ſome philoſophers have
undoubtedly better foundations than thoſe
of others : but I am of opinion (and
Swift ſeems to be in the ſame way of
thinking) that the moſt applauded phi-
loſophy hitherto extant has not fully,
clearly, and certainly explained many
difficulties in the phænomena of nature.
I am induced to believe, that God may
have abſolutely denied us the perfect
knowledge of many points in philoſophy,
L 4
fo
152
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ſo that we ſhall never arrive at that
per-
fection, however certain we may ſup-
poſe ourſelves of having attained to it
already Upon the whole, we may ſay
with TULLY, Omnibus ferè in rebus, et
maximè in phyſicis quid non fit citius, quam
quid fit, dixerim.
The project for a more eaſy and expe+
ditious method of writing a treatiſe in
any ſcience, by a wooden engine ?, is
entertainingly ſatyrical, and is aimed at
thoſe authors, who, inſtead of receiving
materials from their own thoughts and
obſervations, collect from dictionaries
and common place-books, an irregular
variety, without order, uſe, or deſign,
Ut nec pes nec caput uni
Reddatur formą.
The project of ſhortning a diſcourſe,
by cutting polyſyllables into one, and
leaving out verbs and participles', is
· Page 218,
Page 2204
pointed
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 153
w
pointed at the pernicious cuſtom of con-
tracting the Engliſh language, the dia-
lect of which is naturally harſh, and
that harſhneſs is ſtill encreaſed by im-
proper contractions. As. Swift was
ſcrupulouſly exact in the pronunciation
of his own tongue, not the leaſt im-
proper expreſſion ever eſcaped his cen-
fure: and I remember to have ſeen in
manuſcript a dictionary of hard words,
compoſed by him for the uſe of his fe-
male ſenate.
The ſixth chapter à is full of ſeverity
and ſatyr.
ſatyr, Sometimes it is exerted
againſt the legiſlative power: ſometimes
againſt particular politicians : ſometimes
againſt women : and ſometimes it dege-
nerates into filth. True humour ought
to be kept up with decency, and dig-
nity, or it loſes every tincture of enter-
tainment. Deſcriptions that ſhock our
delicacy cannot have the leaſt good ef-
fect upon our minds. They offend us,
a Page 223
and
154
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
SET
1
and we fly precipitately from the fight.
We cannot ſtay long enough to examine,
whether wit, ſenſe, or morality, may
be couched under ſuch odious appear-
ances. I am ſorry to ſay, that theſe
fort of deſcriptions, which are too often
interſperſed throughout all Swift's
works, are ſeldom written with
any
other view, or from any other motive,
than a wild unbridled indulgence of his
own humour and diſpoſition.
He ſeems to have finiſhed his voyage
to Laputa in a careleſs hurrying man-
ner, which makes me almoſt think, that
ſometimes he was tired with his work,
and attempted to run through it as faſt
as he could; otherwiſe why was the
curtain dropped ſo foon, or why were
we deprived of ſo noble a ſcene as might
have been diſcovered in the iſland of
Glubdubdrib", where the governor, by bis
ſkill in necromancy, bad the power of calling
whom be pleaſed from the dead. I have not
* Chap. 7. Page 252.
time
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 155
time by this poſt to write to you my
thoughts upon a ſubject, which I con-
feſs awakened, but by no means ſatisfied
my curioſity. I lamented to find ſo
many illuſtrious ghoſts vaniſh ſo quickly,
and ſo abruptly from my ſight, many of
whom were of the brighteſt,characters
in hiſtory. In my next letter I ſhall
endeavour to detain them a little longer
in Leiceſter-fields, than Swift ſuffered
them to ſtay in the iſland of Sorcerers.
I am,
.
My dear HAMILTON,
Your affectionate Father,
ORR ER Y.
*
L E T-
156
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
劳 ​****************************
L E T T E R XIII.
I
My deareſt HAMILTON,
Believe it would be impoſſible to
find out the deſign of Dr. SWIFT,
in ſummoning up a parcel of appa-
ritions, that from their behaviour, or
from any thing they ſay, are almoſt
of as little conſequence, as the ghoſts
in Gay’s farce of the Wbat dye call it.
Perhaps, SWIFT's general deſign might
be, to arraign the conduct of eminent
perſons after their death, and to convey
their names, and images to poſterity,
deprived of thoſe falſe colours, in which
they formerly appeared. If theſe were
his intentions, he has miſſed his aim ; or
at leaſt, has been ſo far carried away by
his diſpoſition to raillery, that the moral,
which ought to ariſe from ſuch a fable,
is buried in obſcurity,
The
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 157
The firſt airy ſubſtance introduced is
ALEXANDER the Great*. After a hint
from GULLIVER, that we have loſt the
true Greek idiom, the conqueror of the
univerſe is made to declare upon his
honour, “ That he died by exceſſive drink-
" ing, not by poiſon.” A triling and
an improper obfervation, becauſe the
apparition is called up as he appeared
at the head of his army, juſt after
the battle of Arbella. I own my ex-
pectations were great, when I found
his appearance was to be at that par-
ticular juncture. Or rather I could
have wiſhed to have ſeen him after
the battle of Iljus, when the tempe-
rate uſe which he made of his vic-
tory, was highly worthy of imitation.
Such a circumſtance might have graced
his triumph. There are others too in
the hiſtorical records of him, that redound
to his honour. The tender regard which
W. Page 234
he
158 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
he ſhewed to Pindar, by ſparing the houſe
of that poet (when he raſed the city of
Tbebes) ſeems to demand perpetual gra-
titude from all ſucceeding bards. The
manner in which he viſited the tomb of
ACHILLES : the affection and reſpect
paid by him to Aristotle: the un-
daunted confidence placed in his phyfi.
cian PHILIP, are inſtances ſufficient to
ſhew, that ALEXANDER did not want
fome virtues of humanity : and when
we conſider ſeveral of his raſh actions
of inebriety, they convince us, how
far the native excellencies of the mind
may be debaſed and changed by paſ-
fions which too often attend ſucceſs and
luxury,
Utcunque defecere mores
Dedecorant benè nata culpa.
It is evident, my Ham, that Swift
had conceived an abſolute diſguſt to
ALEXANDER; whole character he aims
to
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
159
to deſtroy, by touching it in ſo ſlight a
manner, that he puts me in mind of
the viſit paid by AUGUSTUS CÆSAR,
to Alexander's fepulchre at Alexandria.
Upon the Emperor's arrival, the body
of the Macedonian hero was found in
it's full dimenſions, but ſo tender not-
withſtanding all the former embalm-
ing, that CÆSAR, by touching only
the noſe of it, defaced the whole figure
immediately.
HANNIBAL * ſeems to have been ſum .
moned with no other view than to cen-
fure Livy the hiſtorian. It is not only
improbable, but impoſſible, that Han-
NIBAL ſhould have carried a ſufficient
quantity of vinegar for the purpoſe re-
lated by Live: but as vinegar will cer-
tainly foften, and diſſolve ftones, the
experiment might have been improved,
or fo contrived by HANNIBAL, as to
appear to make an eaſy, and expeditious
Page 235
opening
160 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
mans
opening through ſome particular paſſage,
already fitted for the purpoſe. Such a
trial, practiſed in that age of darkneſs,
and properly managed, might have been
univerſally received as a kind of mira-
cle: ſo that Live could ſcarce have
avoided inſerting the report as an ac-
knowledged truth : eſpecially as the
fact itſelf ſeems to infer that the Ro-
were invincible, unleſs from
ſome ſupernatural cauſe. Swift (no
friend to military men) thinks the Car-
thaginian general unworthy of any farther
notice : and haſtens to call up the ſenate
of Rome. This gives him an opportu-
nity of being very fevere upon a certain
modern aſſembly, which he treats in a
manner more reſembling the Cynic in
his cell, than the free humoured Rabelais
in his eaſy chair.
POMPEY and CÆSAR only appear to
grace the entry of Brutus, who is
Swift's favourite patriot : but as CÆSAR
generouſly confeſſed to GULLIVER, “That
" the
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 161
the greateſt actions of his life, were not,
by many degrees, equal to the glory of
" taking it away.” It would have been
a proper alleviation of the Dictator's
crimes, to have acknowledged him the
greateſt ſtateſman, orator, and ſoldier
of the age, in which he lived : an age,
fertile of eminent men: an age, whenam-
bition was ſcarce looked upon as a crime:
and when the Roman virtue (once the
ſupport and preſervation of the com-
monwealth) was long ſince loſt in vice
and luxury : at ſuch a time a ſingle
maſter was become neceſſary, and Pom-
PEY would have ſeized the reins of go-
vernment had not CÆSAR interpofed.
If the conſpirators had reſtored liberty
to their country, their act had been
compleatly glorious, and would have
ſhewed, that CÆSAR, not Rome, was
degenerated. But if
we may judge
from the conſequences, Heaven diſap-
proved of the deed: a particular fate
attended the conſpirators, not
M
of
one
162
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
of whom 'died a natural death : and
even Brutus, perhaps recollecting in
his laſt moments the benefits, which he
had received from CÆSAR, was ſtag-
gered in his thoughts of virtue, and
imagining himſelf deceived by a ſhadow,
broke out into a pathetical expreſſion,
ſignifying, " that he had worſhipped vir-
« tue as a ſubſtance, and had found it only
a ſhadow:” ſo that he ſeems to have
wanted that fortitude of mind, which
conſtantly attends true virtue to the
grave. This defect in the character of
-BRUTus, is not improperly expreſſed in
the famous gallery of the great duke of
Tuſcany, where there is a very fine head
of Brutus begun by MICHAEL ANGELO,
but left unfiniſhed : under it is engraven
upon a copper plate, this diſtic,
Dum Bruti effigiem fculptor de marmore ducit,
In mentem ſceleris venit, et abſtinuit.
If Brutus erred, it was from a
wrong notion of virtue. The character
of
AND WRITINGS OF DR.SWIFT. 163
of CÆSAR is perhaps more amiable,
but leſs perfect : his faults were great ;
however, many of them were foils to
his virtues. A modern eminent wri-
ter, has repreſented him as a glutton :
he tells us, that when CÆSAR went to
the public feaſts, he conſtantly took a
vomit in the morning, with a deſign to
indulge himſelf with more keenneſs, and
to encreaſe his appetite for the enſuing
feaſt. The fact is true, but I would
willingly believe the inference unjuſt. It
is more than probable, that he practiſed
this cuſtom by the advice of his phyſi-
cians, who might direct ſuch a regimen,
as the moſt certain, and immediate
pre-
ſervation againſt epileptic fits, to which
the Dictator was often liable. Your
grandfather, my honoured father, (who
was excelled by few phyſicians in the
theory of phyſic) has often told me, that
thoſe kind of convulſions were of ſuch a
nature as generally to come on after eat-
ing, and more violently if the ſtomach
M 2
was
164 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
was overloaded. CÆSAR was ſo careful in
obſerving a decent dignity in his be-
haviour, that he dreaded the ſhame of
expoſing publickly this weakneſs in his
conſtitution, and therefore guarded
againſt it in a prudent manner, which
has ſince been conſtrued into a reproach.
This ſurmiſe, my HAM, reſts upon the
ſtronger foundation, as all authors agree,
that he was moſt ſtrictly, and remark-
ably abſtemious.
In his public character, CÆSAR ap-
pears a ſtrong example, how far the
greateſt natural, and acquired accom-
pliſhments may loſe their luſtre, when
made ſubſervient to falſe glory, and an
immoderate thirſt of power ; as on the
other hand, the hiſtory of Brutus may
inſtruct us, what unhappy effects the
rigid exerciſe of ſuperiour virtue, when
miſapplied and carried too far, may pro-
duce in the moſt ſtedfalt mind, or the
foundeſt judgement.
GULLIVER
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 165
amona
GULLIVER has given to BRUTUS five
companions, Jun. Brutus, SOCRATES,
EPAMINONDAS, Cato the cenfor, and
Sir THOMAS MOORE. Such a ſextum-
virate is not eaſily to be encreaſed : yet,
let me hope, that the reflexion is too
ſeverely critical, when he adds, “ that
“ all the ages of the world cannot furniſh
« out a ſeventh.” Every age has pro-
duced men of virtue, and abilities in
the higheſt degree. The race of man-
kind, ſince their firſt creation, have been
always the ſame. The greateſt charac-
ters have been blended with the greateſt
faults. Poets and hiſtorians have ſingled
out particular perſons for fame and im-
mortality : they have adorned them with
accompliſhments, which perhaps they ne-
ver poſſeſſed, while other men equally me
ritorious, have been ſilently buried in ob-
livion, with only the ſelf conſciouſneſs of
of Brutus in the Elyſian fields,
M 3
In
166
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
In this illuſtrious fextumvirate, So-
CRATES and Sir THOMAS Moore un-
doubtedly deſerve the pre-eminence. The
extravagant virtue of Junius Brutus is
Mocking to every parent, and every
good-natured mind. The
The important
ſervices of the father, might juſtly have
claimed from the public, the pardon of
his ſons : and when his paternal piety
had faved their lives, his precepts
and example might fo effectually have
reclaimed their errors, as to have made
them become uſeful members of the
commonwealth. I am fully perſuaded,
that if Dr. Swift had been a father,
we ſhould not have found the name
of JUNIUS BRUTUS where it is now
placed.
In EPAMINONDAS the Theban glory
firſt appeared: and died.
and died. His own
merit, in overcoming the greateſt diffi-
culties, entirely fixed his reputation.
A happy concurrence of circumſtances
has often given fame to others; but
EPA-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 167
EPAMINONDAS was indebted for his ſu-
periour character, only to himſelf.
I am in fome doubt, whether Cato
the Cenfor can fairly claim a rank among
ſo choice a groope of ghoſts.
He juſtly
indeed condemned the luxury of the Ro-
mans, and he puniſhed their vices with
an impartial ſeverity: but herein he
ſeems to have indulged his own natural
temper rather than to have acted abſo-
lutely from a love of virtue: he was a
declared enemy to poetry, painting, and
all the politer arts : he was proud, vain,
and moroſe : but above all, he was ſo
extremely avaritious, that RHADAMAN-
Thus in the Archbiſhop of CAMBRAY'S
dialogues of the dead, after expreſſing
ſome regard to his merits, tells him,
as he was an uſurer he could not be ad.
mitted into the Elyſian fields : and there-
fore orders him to keep the gate as por-
ter : in which fituation, he might gra-
tify the cenſoriouſneſs of his diſpoſi-
tion, by examining every ghoſt that at-
tempted
M4
168 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
+
tempted to come into Elyſium, and by
ſhutting the door againſt all thoſe, who
were not qualified for admittance. RĦA-
DAMANTHUS then gives him money, to
pay CHARON for ſuch paſſengers, who
were not able to pay for themſelves, and
at the ſame time declares, that he will
puniſh him as a robber, if he offers to
lend out that money upon uſury. How
very different, you will ſay, are the ſen-
timents of Archbiſhop FENELON, and
of Dr. Swift in their judgement of
Cato. The one, thinks him unworthy
of a place among millions in Elyſium,
while the other, diſtinguiſhes him among
the greateſt men of antiquity. From
this diſſenſion of opinions may be traced,
perhaps, the particular temper both of
the Archbiſhop and of the Dean, and
from thence may be deduced the reaſon,
why the Cenfor was eſteemed by the lat-
ter, and condemned by the former.
GULLIVER, after having taken a tran-
fient view of numberleſs illuſtrious per-
ſons,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 169
fons, whom he does not name, cloſes
the chapter, and gives me an opportunity
of finiſhing my letter. Late, very late,
may you become a ghoſt! And when
one, may you equal any of Swift's ſex-
tumvirate, and may his ghoſt (grown
leſs cynical and better inſtructed) rejoice
to admit you into the company, from
which he has ſo arbitrarily excluded all
future generations. So wiſhes, ſo prays,
Your affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
L ETTER XIV.
GUL
ULLIVER, tired of heroes, changes
the ſcene in the eighth chapter of
his voyage to Laputa, and becomes cu-
rious to know the ſituation of poets
and philoſophers, who, in their turn,
have as eagerly contended for fame, as
CÆSAR
170
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
was the
CÆSAR did for power, or BRUTUS for
liberty. He deſires, that Homer and
ARISTOTLE may make their
appearance
at the head of their commentators.
HOMER, ſays our traveller,
“ taller, and comelier perſon of the two:
“ walked very erect for one of his age,
and
“ bis eyes were the moſt quick and piercing
" I ever bebeld.” It is certain, that Ho-
MER has rather gained, than loft vigour
by his years. Twenty fix centuries have
not unbraced his nerves, or given one
wrinkle to his brow: and although
GULLIVER has beſtowed upon him the
additional ornament of fine eyes, yet I am
apt to think they made the figure of this
divine old man leſs awful : at leaſt I am
glad that he wanted his eye fight while
he lived, ſince it is impoſſible, not to
conclude from the productions of Ho-
MER and Milton, that the Mind's Eye
becomes more intenſely diſcerning, when
it is not interrupted by external objects.
It is an old obſervation, that HOMER
has
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 177
has nouriſhed more perſons than SYLLA,
CÆSAR, and AUGUSTUS; and while their
pictures have decayed, not a letter of
the Iliad has been loſt. The Grecian
poet not only preſerves his original form,
but breathes freely, and looks beautiful
in other languages : a happier nietempfy-
choſis than PYTHAGORAS ever dreamt
of. However, if HOMER was abſolute-
ly obliged to wear the different dreſſes,
which have been given to him, he would
ſometimes, I believe, find the motion of
his limbs uneaſy and confined : and
would prefer his own ſimple attire even
to the birth day ſuit, which our Engliſh
bard has given him. The commenta-
tors have done leſs honour to HOMER
than the tranſlators. Some of theſe
learned pedants have entirely waſted
their obſervations upon particles and
words : others have run into a minute
exactneſs, in comparing the propriety
of his images : while others again, have
endeavoured to trace out from the Iliad
and
172 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and Odyſſey, all the rudiments of arts
and ſciences. Some there are, who dwell
on ſuch narrow circumſtances, as were
neglected by HOMER, and can only be
ſuitable to their own confined genius.
They are not able to purſue him in
his ſublime flights, and attempt there-
fore, to bring him upon a level with
themſelves. Their low mechanical no-
tions remind me of an abſurd problem
propoſed by the famous Monſieur Huet,
whether the Iliad might not be written
upon vellum in ſo ſmall a hand, that
the whole might be contained within a
nutſhell ? This important queſtion is
ſaid to have engaged the thoughts and
attention of the French court, and gives
us a true picture of a laborious, taſte-
leſs critic upon HOMER. The Dauphin,
and his train, are for putting the Iliad
into a nutſhell, when ALEXANDER, and
his courtiers, choſe the richeſt, a nd
moſt curious cabinet of DARIUS, as the
only proper repoſitory for Homer's works,
HOMER
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 173
HOMER and ARISTOTLE were as op-
poſite as poſſible in their characters : but
Dr. Swift has placed them together,
chiefly with a view of ſhewing their
commentators, in that juſt and ridicu-
lous light, in which thoſe fcholiaſts ought
to appear. When an age is bleſſed with
the productions of an uncommon genius,
ſuch as reſembles HOMER, it muſt, in
ſome meaſure, be puniſhed by bad imi-
tations and comments; in the ſame
manner that you may have obſerved the
ſun by its heat and influence raiſing va-
pours, and animating inſects, that in-
fect and perhaps corrupt the air, in
which he ſhines with ſo much luſtre.
But, when an original admired author,
as Aristotle, is really erroneous, and
deceives with falſe ſpecious principles,
what a train of errors muſt ariſe from
commentators on ſuch ſubjects, who,
while they endeavour to purſue and ex-
tend a pleaſing enchanted proſpect, that
has no real foundation, deviate into a
dark,
174
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
dark, diſagreeable road of briers and
thorns ?
It is on this account that the Dean
has introduced ARISTOTLE in company
with HOMER. The deſcription of that
philofopher is fine, and in a few words
repreſents the true nature of his works.
“ He ſtooped much, and made uſe of a ſtaff
“ His viſage was meagre, his hair lank and
“ thin, and his voice bollow." By not having
the immortal ſpirit of HOMER, he was un-
able to keep his body erect: and the ſtaff
which weakly ſupported him, like his
commentators, made this defect more
conſpicuous. He wanted not ſome uſe-
ful qualities, but theſe real ornaments,
like his hair, were thin and ungraceful.
His ſtyle was harſh, and, like his voice,
had neither force nor harmony. He
was without doubt a man of great ge-
nius and penetration, but he did infi-
nitely more prejudice than ſervice to real
literature. He ſtudied words more than
facts, and delivered his philofophy per-
plexed
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 175
plexed with ſuch intricate logical terms,
as have laid a foundation for the endleſs
fcholaſtic diſputations, which have cor-
rupted and retarded the progreſs of
learning. He waged war with all his
predeceſſors. He never quotes an au-
thor but with a view to refute his opi-
nion. Like the Ottoman Emperor, he
could not reign in ſafety, till he had
firſt deſtroyed his brethren. He was as
ambitious in ſcience, as his pupil ALEX-
ANDER was in arms. He aimed to be a
deſpotic original: and not only to be
the Prince, but the Tyrant of philoſo-
phy. What then can be expected from
the commentators of his works, who
were devoid of his ingenuity, and poſ-
ſeffed all his intricate follies ? RAMUS
with his covert ignorance, and SCOTUS
and AQUINAS with their ſubdiviſions,
and imaginary nothings, muſt make a
contemptible figure in the Elyſian fields,
which are the ſuppoſed manſions of
chearfulneſs, truth, and candour, and
con-
176 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
confequently muſt be a very improper
ſituation for that tribe of philoſophers.
" I then defred, ſays GULLIVER, that
DESCARTES and GASSENDI might be
“ called up: with whom I prevailed to ex-
plain their ſyſtems to ARISTOTLE. This
great philoſopher freely acknowledged his
own miſtakes in natural philoſophy, becauſe
* he proceeded in many things upon conjec-
turė, as all men muſt do; and be found
" that GASSENDI, who had made the doc-
“ trine of EPICURUS as palatable as he
se could, and the vortices of DESCART E9,
were equally to be exploded.” I believe,
you will find, my dear HAMILTON, that
ARISTOTLE is ſtill to be preferred to
EPICURUS. The former made ſome
uſeful experiments and diſcoveries, and
was engaged in a real purſuit of know-
ledge, although his manner is much
perplexed. The latter was full of va-
nity and ambition. He was an impoſtor,
and only aimed at deceiving. He ſeemed
not to believe the principles which he
has
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 194
has aſſerted. He committed the
.
govern
ment of all things to chance. His na-
tural philoſophy is abſurd. His moral
philoſophy wants its proper baſis, the
fear of God. Monſieur Bayle, one of
his warmeſt advocates, is of this laſt opi-
nion, where he ſays, « On ne ſcauroit
pas dire aſſez de bien de l'honneteté de ſes
mæurs, ni aſſez de mal de ſes opinions ſur
“ la religion.” His general maxim, that
happineſs conſiſted in pleaſure was too
much unguarded, and muſt lay a foun-
dation of a moſt deſtructive practice :
although from his temper and conſtitu-
tion, he made his actions ſufficiently
pleaſurable to himſelf, and agreeable
to the rules of true philofophy. His
fortune exempted him from care and
ſollicitude. His valetudinarian habit of
body from intemperance. He paſſed the
greateſt part of his time in his garden,
where he enjoyed all the elegant amuſe-
ments of life. There he ſtudied. There
he taught his philoſophy. This parti-
N
cular
178
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
cular happy ſituation greatly contributed
to that tranquility of mind, and indo-
lence of body which he made his chief
ends. He had not however reſolution
fufficient, to meet the gradual approaches
of death, and wanted that conſtancy
which Sir WillIAM TEMPLE aſcribes
to him : for in his laſt moments, when
he found that his condition was def-
perate, he took ſuch large draughts
of wine, that he was abſolutely intox-
icated, and deprived of his ſenſes ; ſo
that he died more like a bacchanal, than
a philoſopher : to which the epigram
alludes,
Hinc Stygias ebrius haufit aquas.
I ſhould not have ventured into this
criticiſm and cenſure upon theſe antient
philoſophers, not even to you, my dear-
eſt Ham, if my opinion was not in a
great meaſure ſupported by Lord Bacon,
who, as he was certainly the moſt ac-
curate
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 199
curate judge of this ſubject, might be
perhaps, from that pre-eminence, too
ſevere a critic. It muſt be owned,
that Epicurus in particular has many
followers and admirers
among the
antients, and among the moderns. Ci-
CERO commends him for cultivating
his friendſhips in the moſt exquiſite
manner. The book lyes
The book lyes open before
me, and I will tranſcribe the words,
De quâ (amicitiâ] EPICURUS quidem ita
dicit omnium rerum quas ad beatè vivendum
fapientia comparaverit, nihil eſſe majus ami-
citiâ, nihil uberius, nibil jucundius, neque
verò hoc oratione folùm, fed multo magis vita
et fa&tis, et moribus comprobavit. Dioge-
NES LAERTIUS praiſes his virtue and
learning. In the Auguſtan age
the
great-
eſt names are inſerted among his follow-
CÆSAR, ATTICUS, MECÆNAS,
LUCRETIUS, VIRGIL, and HORACE em-
braced his philoſophy, and gave a luſtre
to his fect, and doctrines. Sir WILLIAM
Temple ſays, “ that he wonders, why
Juch
ers.
.
N 2
180
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
to the
ſuch ſharp invectives were ſo generally
« made againſt Epicurus, by the ages
" that followed him: eſpecially as his ad-
“ mirable wit, felicity of expreſſion, ex-
“ cellence of nature, ſweetneſs of converſa-
“ tion, temperance of life, and conſtancy
of death, made him ſo much beloved by
- his friends, admired by his ſcholars, and
“ honoured by the Athenians.” Sir Wil-
LIAM TEMPLE imputes this injuſtice
envy, and malignity of the Stoics,
" and to ſome groſs pretenders, who aſſumed
" the denomination of that feet : who miſtook
« his favourite principle" (THAT ALL
HAPPINESS CONSISTED IN PLEASURE
“ by confining it to ſenſual pleaſure only.
" To theſe ſucceeded the Chriſtians, who
eſteemed his principles of natural philofo-
phy more oppoſite to thoſe of our religion
than either the Platoniſts, the Peripate-
“ tics, or even the Stoics themſelves.” This
is the opinion, and theſe are almoſt the
exact words of the great Sir WILLIAM
TEMPLE,
SWIFT
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 181
Swift equally explores Epicurus,
and the more modern philoſophers Des-
CARTES and GASSENDI.
DESCARTES was a knight errant in
philoſophy, perpetually miſtaking wind-
mills for giants ; yet by the ſtrength of
a warm imagination he ſtarted ſome
opinions, which probably put Sir ISAAC
Newton, and others, on making many
experiments that produced moſt uſeful
diſcoveries.
GassendI was eſteemed one of the
greateſt ornaments of France. He
a doctor of divinity, and royal
profeſſor of mathematics. He was born
in Provence in 1592, and died in
1655. With
great induſtry he collected
whatever related to the perfon, and to
the philoſophy of Epicurus, the latter
of which, he has reduced into a compleat
ſyſtem.
I have now, my HAMILTON, curſorily
gone thorough the characters of ſuch
ghoſts, as are nominally ſpecified by
GUL-
was
N 3
3
182
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
GULLIVER. I I may be wrong either in
my account, or in my obſervations : and
I ſhall rejoice to be confuted by you in
any point of learning whatever.
The deſcription of the STRULDBRUGGS,
in the tenth chapter, is an inſtructive
piece of morality : for, if we conſider
it in a ſerious light, it tends to reconcile
us to our final diſſolution. Death, when
ſet in contraſt to the immortality of
the STRULDBRUGGS, is no longer the
King of Terrors: he loſes his ſting : he
appears to us as
a friend : and we
chearfully obey his ſummons, becauſe
it brings certain relief to the greateſt
miſeries. It is in this deſcription, that
Swift ſhines in a particular manner.
He probably felt in himſelf the effects
of approaching age, and tacitly dread-
ed that period of life, in which he
might become a repreſentative of thoſe
miſerable immortals.
His apprehenſions
were unfortunately fulfilled. He lived
to be the moſt melancholy fight that
was
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 183
was ever beheld: yet, even in that con-
dition, he continued to inſtruct, by ap-
pearing a providential inſtance to mor-
tify the vanity, which is too apt to ariſe
in the human breaſt. Our life cannot
be pronounced happy, till the laſt ſcene
is cloſed with eaſe and reſignation : the
mind ſtill continuing to preſerve its uſual
dignity, and falling into the arms of
death, as a wearied traveller ſinks into
reſt. This is that Euthanaſia which Au-
GUSTUS often deſired, which ANTONINUS
Pius enjoyed, and for which
every
wiſe
man will pray. God Almighty's provi-
dence protect and guide you, my HAM,
whatever fate of life, or fortune attends
Your affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
N 4
LE T.
184
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
postos
L E T T E R XV.
IT is with great reluctance, I ſhall
make ſome remarks on GULLIVER'S
voyage to the Houybnbnms. In this laſt
part of his imaginary travels, Swift
has indulged a miſanthropy that is into-
lerable. The repreſentation which he has
given us of human nature, muſt terrify,
and even debaſe the mind of the reader
who views it. His fallies of wit and hu-
mour loſe all their force, nothing re-
maining but a melancholy, and diſagree-
able impreſſion : and, as I have ſaid to
you, on other parts of his works, we
are diſguſted, not entertained; we are
ſhocked, not inſtructed by the fable. I
ſhould therefore chuſe to take no notice
of his Yahoos, did I not think it ne-
ceſſary to aſſert the vindication of human
nature, and thereby, in ſome meaſure,
to pay my duty to the great author of
our
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 185
our fpecies, who has created us in a very
fearful, and a very wonderful manner.
We are compoſed of a mind, and of
a body, intimately united, and mutually
affecting each other. Their operations
indeed are entirely different. Whether
the immortal ſpirit, that enlivens this
fine machine, is originally of a ſuperior
nature in various bodies (which, I own,
ſeems molt conſiſtent and agreeable to
the ſcale and order of beings) or,
whether the difference depends on a ſym-
metry, or peculiar ſtructure of the or-
gans combined with it, is beyond my
reach to determine. It is evidently cer-
tain, that the body is curiouſly formed
with proper organs to delight, and ſuch
as are adapted to all the neceſſary uſes
of life. The ſpirit animates the whole;
it guides the natural appetites, and con-
fines them within juſt limits. But, the
natural force of this ſpirit is often im-
merſed in matter; and the mind be-
comes ſubſervient to paſſions, which it
ought
186 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ought to govern and direct. Your friend
HORACE, although of the Epicurean
doctrine, acknowledges this truth, where
he ſays,
Atque affigit bumo divina particulam aure.
It is no leſs evident, that this immor-
tal ſpirit has an independent power of
acting, and, when cultivated in a pro-
per manner, ſeemingly quits the corpo-
real frame within which it is impri-
ſoned, and ſoars into higher, and more
fpacious regions ; where, with an ener-
gy, which I had almoſt ſaid was divine,
it ranges among thoſe heavenly bodies,
that, in this lower world, are ſcarce vi-
ſible to our eyes ; and we can at once
explain the diſtance, magnitude, and ve-
locity of the planets, and can foretel,
even to a degree of minuteneſs, the par-
ticular time when a comet will return,
and when the ſun will be eclipſed in the
next century.
Theſe powers certainly
evince
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 187
evince the dignity of human nature, and
the ſurpriſing effects of the immaterial
ſpirit within us, which, in ſo confined a
ſtate, can thus diſengage itſelf from the
fetters of matter. It is from this pre-emi-
nence of the ſoul over the body, that we
are enabled to view the exact order, and
curious variety of different beings; to
conſider, and cultivate the natural pro-
ductions of the earth ; and to admire,
and imitate the wiſe benevolence which
reigns throughout the whole ſyſtem of
the univerſe. It is from hence, that we
form moral laws for our conduct. From
hence, we delight in copying that great
original, who, in his eſſence, is utterly
incomprehenſible, but, in his influence,
is powerfully apparent to every degree of
his creation. From hence too, we per-
ceive a real beauty in virtue, and a di-
ſtinction between good and evil. Virtue
acts with the utmoſt generoſity, and with
no view to her own advantage: while
vice, like a glutton, feeds herſelf enor-
mouſly,
188 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
mouſly, and then is willing to diſgorge
the nauſeous offals of her feaſt. But I
ſhall wander too far, eſpecially as I flat-
ter myſelf, that your mind is fo good,
and ſo unprejudiced, that you will more
eaſily feel, than I can illuſtrate, the truth
of theſe aſſertions.
SWIFT deduces his obfervations from
wrong principles; for, in his land of
Houybnbnms, he conſiders the ſoul and
body in their moſt degenerate, and un-
cultivated ſtate : the former as a ſlave to
the appetites of the latter. He ſeems in-
ſenſible of the ſurpriſing mechaniſm, and
beauty of every part of the human com-
poſition. He forgets the fine deſcription
which Ovid gives of mankind.
Os bomini ſublime dedit, cælumque tueri
Juffit, et erectos ad fidera tollere vultus.
In painting Yanoos he becomes one
himſelf. Nor is the picture, which he
draws of the Houybnbnms, inviting or
amuſing
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 189
amuſing. It wants both light and ſhade
to adorn it. It is cold and inſipid. We
there view the pure inſtincts of brutes,
unaſſiſted by any knowledge of letters,
acting within their own narrow ſphere,
merely for their immediate preſervation.
They are incapable of doing wrong,
therefore they act right. It is ſurely a
very low character given to creatures, in
whom the author would inſinuate ſome
degree of reaſon, that they act inoffen-
ſively, when they have neither the mo-
tive nor the power to act otherwiſe.
Their virtuous qualities are only nega-
tive. Swift himſelf, amidſt all his
irony, muſt have confeſſed, that to mo-
derate our paſſions, to extend our muni-
ficence to others, to enlarge our under-
ſtanding, and to raiſe our idea of the
Almighty by contemplating his works,
is not only the buſineſs, but often the
practice, and the ſtudy of the human
mind. It is too certain, that no one in-
dividual has ever poſſeſſed every qualifi-
cation
190
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
cation and excellence : however ſuch an
aſſemblage of different virtues, may ſtill
be collected from different perſons, as
are ſufficient to place the dignity of hu-
man nature in an amiable, and exalted
ftation. We muſt lament indeed the
many inſtances of thoſe who degenerate,
or go aſtray from the end and intention
of their being. The true ſource of this
depravity is often owing to the want of
education, to the falſe indulgence of pa-
rents, or to ſome other bad cauſes, which
are conſtantly prevalent in every nation.
Many of theſe errors are finely ridiculed
in the foregoing parts of this romance :
but the voyage to the Houyhnbnms is a
real inſult upon mankind.
.
I am heartily tired of this laſt part of
Gulliver's travels, and am glad, that,
having exhauſted all my obſervations on
this diſagreeable ſubject, I may finiſh
my letter ; eſpecially as the concluſion of
it naturally turns my thoughts from Ya-
Hoos, to one of the deareſt pledges I have
upon
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
191
upon earth, yourſelf: to whom I am
a moſt
Affectionate Father,
ORRE RY.
00000000000 9000+000000000000000
L E T T E R XVI.
WHAT
HAT is to be done, my HAMIL-
TON, with the fourth volume of
SWIFT's works? How can I amuſe
you
with
any remarks from a collection of
tracts, not only upon exceeding grave
fubjects, but entirely relative to the
kingdom of Ireland ? not only local, but
temporary? In the beginning of the vo-
lume is a pamphlet entitled A Letter from
a Member of the Houſe of Commons in Ire-
land, to a Member of the Houſe of Commons
in Erzgland, concerning the Sacramental Teſt,
written in the year 1708 : and it is preced-
ed by an explanatory advertiſement, that
was either dictated, or ſtrictly reviſed
by
192
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
by the Dean himſelf. He held the dif-
ſenters in the utmoſt degree of ridicule
and deteſtation. He had an openneſs in
his diſpoſition, and a frankneſs in his
conduct, that bore an abhorrence to all
kind of reſerve : even to diſcretion. So-
lemnities and outward forms were def-
piſed by him. His humorous diſpoſition
tempted him to actions inconſiſtent with
the dignity of a clergyman : and ſuch
flights drew upon him the general cha-
racter of an irreligious man. I remem
ber to have heard a ſtory of him that
fully ſhews how little he regarded certain
ceremonies, which ought always to be
obferved with reſpect. Soon after he
had been made Dean of St. PATRICK'S,
he was loitering one Sunday in the af-
ternoon at the houſe of Dr. RAYMOND
(with whom he had dined) at Trim, a
Little town near Dublin, of which the
Doctor was vicar. The bell had rung:
the parifhioners were aſſembled, for
evening prayers : and Dr. RAYMOND
was
!
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 199
ran
as faſt
was preparing to go to the church, ,
which was ſcarce two hundred yards from
his houſe. “ RAYMOND, ſaid the Dean,
“ I'll lay you a crown I will begin
prayers before you this afternoon.”
“I accept the wager,” replied Dr.
RAYMOND: and immediately they both
as they could towards
the church. RAYMOND, who was much
the nimbler man of the two, arrived
firſt at the door: and when he entered
the church walked decently towards the
reading deſk. Swift never ſlackened
his pace, but, running up the iſle, left
Dr. RAYMOND behind him in the middle
of it, and ſtepping into the reading deſk,
without putting on a ſurplice, or open-
ing the prayer-book, began the liturgy
in an audible voice, and continued to
repeat the ſervice fufficiently long to
win his wager. To ſuch a diſpoſition it
impoſſible that the gravity of noncon
formifts could be agreeable. The diſlike
was mutual on both ſides. Dr. Swift
O
hated
194
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
hated all fanatics: All fanatics hated
Dr. Swift. The pamphlet, which now
lies before me, is particularly writ-
ten againſt repealing the teſt axt: and
whoever conſiders himſelf related to the
kingdom of Ireland, will find in it fome
arguments of weight and conſideration,
in caſe any ſuch repeal ſhould ever be
attempted there.
I cannot help pointing out to you,
one particular piece of fatyr, that is
entirely in SWIFT's own ſtyle and man-
ner. In the fourth page, he expreſſes
himſelf thus. « One of theſe author's (the
fellow that was pilloried, I have forgot
« his name) is indeed fo grave, fententious,
dogmatical a rogue, that there is no en-
during him.” The fellow that was pil-
loried was DANIEL DEFOE, whoſe name
SWIFT well knew and remembered; but
the circumſtance of the pillory was to
be introduced; and the manner of in-
troducing it, ſhews great art in the ni-
ceſt touches of fatyr, and carries all the
marks
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 196
marks of ridicule, indignation, and con-
tempt. The ſcoffs and ſarcaſms of
Swift, like the bite of the rattle ſnake,
diſtinguiſh themſelves more venomouſ-
ly dangerous, than the wounds of a
common ſerpent.
The next tract is, A Propoſal for the
univerſal uſe of Iriſh Manufacture in clothes,
and furniture of boufes &c. utterly reject-
ing and renouncing every thing wear-
able that comes from England. Written
in the year 1720.
In a former letter,
I believe I have told you, that, upon
looking over the dates of Dr. Swift's
works, he does not appear as a political
writer from the year 1714 to the year
1720. You will probably be curious to
know, in what manner he employed his
time from the death of the Queen till
the South-ſea year. Not in poetry, for
his poetical pieces, during that period,
are in a manner domeſtic ; being ſcarce
any more than trifles to SHERIDAN, or
Letter VI.
O2
poematia
196 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
en-
poematia to STELLA. How then is the
chaſm to be filled up? I imagine,
by GULLIVER's travels. Such a work
muſt, in
all likelihood, have
groſſed his leiſure, during five or fix
years.
When that was finiſhed, he
found an opening to indulge his love of
politics, and to commence a patriot for
Ireland : and he made uſe of the oppor-
tunity, by encreaſing the natural jealouſy
which the leſſer iſland conſtantly enter-
tains of the greater. His treatiſe, or pro-
poſal, immediately raiſed a very violent
flame. The printer was proſecuted: and
the proſecution had the ſame effect,
which generally attends thoſe kind of
meaſures : it added fuel to the flame. But
his greateſt enemies muſt confeſs, that
the pamphlet is written in the ſtyle of a
man, who had the good of his country
neareſt his heart, who ſaw her errors,
and wiſhed to correct them ; who felt
her oppreſſions, and wiſhed to relieve
them, and who had a deſire to rouze,
and
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 197
with any
and awaken an indolent nation from a
lethargic diſpoſition, that might prove
fatal to her conſtitution.
To the propoſal, in favour of the Iriſh
manufactures, ſucceed Some Arguments
againſt enlarging the Power of Biſhops in
letting of Leafes. This is too ſerious a
pamphlet for your peruſal, nor ſhall I
detain
you
farther account of
it, than to ſay, that it is intermixt with
thoſe maſterly ſtrokes of irony, which are
ſo often intermixt in Swift's works.
But the general ſubject of the pam-
phlet leads me to recollect a circumſtance
much to the Dean's honour. He could
never be induced to take fines for
the chapter lands. He always choſe to
raiſe the rents, as the method leaſt op-
preſſive to the preſent tenant, and moſt
advantageous to all future tenants and
landlords. He conſtantly refuſed to give
charity out of the chapter funds, which
he alledged were ſcarce ſufficient to main-
tain the neceſſary repairs of the cathedral.
I have
any of
03
198
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
I have already told you', that, among
his prebendaries, the vox Decani was the
vox Dei.
We are now come to THE DRAPIER's
Letters, thoſe brazen monuments of his
fame. They were written in the year
1724. I have ſaid ſo much in one of
my former letters of the cauſe which
gave riſe to them, and of the ef,
fect which they had upon the nation,
that I need ſay no more in this place,
than to recommend them to your per-
uſal, for the ſtyle and conduct of their
manner : but, left they may appear too
grave to ſo young a man, and one who
is ſo little intereſted in the preſent, and
much leſs in the paſt affairs of Ireland,
you will find a paper at the end of them
that will excite your rifibility, or I am
miſtaken. It is entitled A full and true
account of the folemn proceſſion to the Gallows
at the execution of WILLIAM Wood, Eſq;
* See Letter V.
Letter VI.
and
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 199
and bard-ware-man'. The author makes
the ſeveral artificers attend WILLIAM
Wood (repreſented by a log of timber)
to the gallows, and each tradeſman ex-
preſſes his reſentment in the terms of his
proper calling
" The Cook will BASTE
o him. The BOOKSELLER will TURN OVER
A NEW LEAF with him. The TAYLOR
“ will fit IN HIS SKIRTS ; and ſo on,
through a number of people of differ-
ent conditions.
Then follows the pro-
ceſſion, moſt humorouſly deſcribed. The
whole is a piece of ridicule too powerful
for the ſtrongeſt gravity to withſtand.
The next tract is, A ſhort view of
the ſtate of Ireland, written in the year
17276. Of this I need take little notice,
ſince the preſent ſtate of Ireland is, in
general, as flouriſhing as poſſible. Agri-
culture is cultivated : arts and ſciences are
encouraged : and in the ſpace of eighteen
years, which is almoſt the full time that
I have known it, no kingdom can be
a Page 233.
Page 240.
04
morc
200
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
more improved. Ireland, in relation of
England, may be compared to a younger
ſiſter lately come of age, after having
ſuffered all the miſeries of an injured
minor; ſuch as law fuits, encroach-
ments upon her property, violation of
her rights, deſtruction of her tenants,
and every evil that can be named. At
length, Time, and her own noble ſpirit
of induſtry, have entirely relieved her,
and, ſome little heart-burnings excepted,
ſhe enjoys the quiet poſſeſſion of a very
ample fortune, ſubject, by way of ac-
knowledgement, to certain quit rents,
payable to the elder branch of her houſe:
and let me add by experience, that take
ber all in all
, ſhe cannot have a greater
fortune than ſhe deſerves.
I ſhall not make any comments upon
An Anſwer to a Paper called A Memorial
of the poor Inbabitants, Tradeſmen, and
Labourers of the Kingdom of Ireland,
written in the year 1728 . The pam-
• Page 251.
phlet
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 201
phlet which comes next in order of
ſucceſſion, is written with Swift's uſual
peculiarity of humour. The title of it
is, A modeſt Propoſal for preventing the Chil-
drer of Poor People in Ireland, from being a
burden to their parents or Country; and for
making them beneficial to the public, written
in the year 1729". The propoſal is to fat-
ten beggars children, and ſell them for food
to rich landlords, and perſons of quality.
The vindication of his Excellency John Lord
CARTERET from tbe charge of favouring none
but Tories, High-Churchmen, and Jacobites 6,
is entirely humorous, and ſo I think are
all the remaining pamphlets in this volume.
But the laſt piece, entitled, The Speech and
dying Words of EBENEZOR ELLISTON, who
was executed the ſecond of May 1722, written
and publiſhed at bis defire for the common good,
had a moft excellent effects. The thieves,
vagabonds, and all the lower claſs of people
Page 262.
» Page 275. Written in the year 1730:
• Page 36.
thought
202 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
thought it the real work of Ebenezor El-
LISTON, who had received the grounds of
a good education; and the ſtyle of this
paper; is ſo natural for a perſon in ſuch
circumſtances, that it would almoſt deceive
the niceſt judgement.
I have now compleated my animadver-
ſions upon the four firſt volumes of Swift's
works; the laſt of which contains abun-
dance of ironical wit, founded upon the
baſis of reaſon and good ſenſe. But, I had
almoſt forgot, that, at the latter end of
the volume, there are three copies of verſes,
two of which are addreſſed to the Dean,
and the third is his anſwer: the firſt
being my property, may ſerve to
clude this letter.
It was occaſioned by
an annual cuſtom, which I found purſued
among his friends of making him a preſent
on his birth-day. As he had admitted
me of that number, I ſent him a paper-
book, finely bound, in the firſt leaf of
which, I wrote the following lines.
To
Tags:
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
203
:
Dublin, November 30, 1732.
Tºthee
, dear Swift, theſe ſpotleſs leaves I ſend:
Small is the preſent, but ſincere the friend,
Think not ſo poor a book below thy care,
Who knows the price that thou can'ſt make it bear?
Tho' tawdry now, and like TYRILLA's face,
The ſpecious front ſhines out with borrow'd grace:
Tho' paſte-boards glitt'ring like a tinſel'd coat,
A raſa tabula within denote;
Yet if a venal and corrupted age,
And modern vices ſhould provoke thy rage;
If warn’d once more by their impending fatc,
A ſinking country and an injur'd ſtate,
Thy great aſſiſtance ſhould again demand,
And call forth reaſon to defend the land ;
Then ſhall we view theſe ſheets with glad ſurprize,
Inſpir’d with thought, and ſpeaking to our eyes:
Each vacant ſpace ſhall then, enrich’d, diſpenſe
True force of eloquence, and nervous ſenſe ;
Inform the judgement, animate the heart,
And ſacred rules of policy impart.
The ſpangled cov'ring, bright with ſplendid ore,
Shall cheat the fight with empty ſhew no more;
But lead us inward to thoſe golden mines,
Where all thy ſoul in native luſtre ſhines.
So when the eye ſurveys ſome lovely fair,
With bloom of beauty, grac'd with ſhape and air,
How is the rapture heighten'd, when we find
Her form excell'd by her celeſtial mind.
ORR ER Y.
LE T-
204 AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
L E T T E R XVII.
I
Have already told you, my dear HAM,
that the four firſt volumes of Swift's
works were publiſhed together, and paſſed
immediately under his own inſpection.
Not long afterwards came out two addi-
tional volumes, both which were ſuperviſed
and corrected by the author.
The Conduet of the Allies begins the fifth
volume. I imagine that the Publiſher's
Preface was compoſed by the Dean himſelf,
but affectedly written in a bad ſtyle. The
laſt paragraph makes me ſuſpect his hand.
“ It is plainly ſeen, ſays the Publiſher,
" that a ſpirit of liberty is diffuſed through all
tbefe. writings, and that tbe author is an
enemy to tyranny, and oppreffon in any ſhape
« whatever." This is the character at which
Swift aimed, and this is the character
which indeed he deſerved.
4
..
Through-
뿔
​AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 205
.
Throughout the courſe of theſe letters,
I have freely pointed out to you all his
faults, but I beg you to remember, that
with all thoſe faults, he was above cor-
ruption. A virtue in itſelf ſufficient to
cover a multitude of human failings,
fince from that virtue alone can flow
proſperity to the commonwealth.
The Conduct of the Allies was written
in the year 1712, and it is preparatory
to the peace, which the miniſters were
then concerting, and which was after-
wards perfected at Utrecht. It begins by
reflexions on war in general, and then
particularly mentions the ſeveral civil
wars in our kingdom. When I am read.
ing treatiſes of this fort, I cannot help
pitying my unhappy country, torn to
pieces by her own ſons. A wretched
mother of vultures, for whom, like
Tityus, ſhe produces new entrails only
to be devoured.
The papers called the Examiners, at
leaſt thoſe of which Dr. Swift is the
author,
206 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
author, fill up the reſt of the volume.
They begin in November 1710, and they
are carried down to the end of July 1711.
They are written in defence of the new
adminiſtration, and the particular revo-
lutions at court which had introduced
the Earl of OXFORD, and had diſplaced
the Earl of GODOLPHIN and his friends.
Many of Swift's Examiners are per-
fonally aimed at the General". In a free
country, the power of a general is al-
ways to be feared. The greater his
military capacity, or the more fucceſsful
his arms, in the greater danger are the
liberties of the people. On this maxim
Swift proceeded; and while he was
writing in defence of the common-
wealth, he had an opportunity of giving
a looſe to his own ſeverity, of which the
boufe of Pride, and ſeveral other allego-
rical eſſays are very ſpirited examples.
But I am fettered in my animadver-
fions on theſe papers. The preſent times,
a The Duke of MARLBOROUGH.
and
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 207
and the honour which I bear to many
noble families, deſcended from perſons
mentioned in the Examiners, make me
willing to take as ſlight notice as poſſi-
ble even of the wittieſt paſſages in thoſe
papers, becauſe many of thoſe paſſages
ariſe from perſonal reflections, or party
farcaſms. In general, the ſeveral points
relating to the national debt (alas ! how
encreaſed ſince the year ſeventeen
hundred and ten) the too long conti-
nuance of the war, and other public
topics of complaint are. melancholy
truths, juſtly becoming the pen of
man who loves his country.
Within theſe laſt forty years, the pos
litical treatiſes have been fo numerous,
ſo various, fo local, and ſo temporary,
that each new pamphlet has ſucceeded
its predeceſſor, like a youthful fon to an
antient father amidſt a multiplicity of
followers, admirers, and dependants,
whilſt the antiquated Sire having frutted
and foamed bis bour upon the ſtage, is beard
a
no
.
108 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
no more, but lies filént, and almoſt en-
tirely forgotten, except by a few friends
and cotemporaries, who accidentally
remember fome of his juſt obſerva-
tions, or prophetical aphoriſms, which
they have lived to ſee accompliſhed. Thus
has it fared even in my time, with the
EXAMINERS, the FREEHOLDERS, and the
CRAFTSMAN: and the ſame fate will
attend moſt writings of that ſort, which
being framed to ſerve particular views
fulfill the purport of their creation, and
then periſh: while works of a more
liberal and diffuſive kind are acceptable
to all perſons, and all times; and may
aſſume to themſelves, a certain proſpect
of ſurviving to the lateſt pofterity.
But my deareſt HAMILTON, when
you enter into the commerce of life,
you will be obliged, in your own de-
fence, to look into every thing that has
been written upon political ſubjects. In
England, a man cannot keep up a con-
verſation without being well verſed in
politics,
.
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 209
.
politics. In whatever other point of
learning he may be deficient, he certain-
ly muſt not appear ſuperficial in ſtate
affairs. He muſt chuſe his party; and
he muſt ſtick to the choice. Non revo-
care gradum muſt be his motto , and
Heaven forgive you, my dear fon, if
the gradus now and then enforces you to
act againſt ſelf conviction.
If party, and the conſequences of it
had ariſen to that heighth among the
Romans and Grecians, as it has ariſen
of late years among the Engliſh, their
poets would probably have added ber to
the three furies, and would have placed
her in hell, as a fit companion for Ty-
SIPHONE, MEGARA, and ALECTO, from
whence, according to their deſcription,
ſhe might have made excurſions upon
earth, only with an intention to de-
ſtroy, confound, miſlead, and diſunite
mankind.
It is true, that all countries have their
parties and their factions. But there is
P
a cer-
210 : REMARKS ON THE LIFE
a certain contagious diſtemper of this
fort, ſo peculiar to the Britiſh iſlands,
that, I believe, it is unknown to every
other part of the world. It encreaſes
our natural gloom, and it makes us ſo
äverſe to each other, that it keeps men
of the beſt morals, and moſt ſocial in-
clinations, in one continued ſtate of
warfare and oppoſition. Muſt not the
ſource of this malady ariſe rather from
the heart, than from the head? from
the different operations of our paſſions,
than of our reafon ?
Furorne cæcus, an rapit vis acrior,
An culpa
3
Swift, a man of violent paſſions,
was, in conſequence of thoſe paſſions,
violent in his party : but as his capacity
and genius were ſo extraordinary and
extenſive, even his party writings carry
with them dignity and inſtruction : and
in that light I wiſh you to read the Exa-
miners, where you will find a nervous
ſtyle,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 211
:
ftyle, a clear diction, and great know-
ledge of the true landed intereſt of
England.
I am,
My dear HAMILTON,
Your ever affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
###
L E T T E R XVIII.
SUCH
UCH a confuſion, ſuch a mixture of
verſe, profe, politics, letters, ſimiles,
wit, trifles, and polite converſation, are
thrown into the fixth volume, 'that I
know not in what manner to treat it; or
what particular part to recommend to
your peruſal. The poetry, the ſimiles,
and the trifles are not worth your atten-
tion. Of the letters, the two from the
Earl of PETERBOROUGH to Mr. POPE are
ſhort, but excellent in their kind. The
others, I mean thoſe of the Dean, and
.
::
P 2
of
212
REMARKS ON THE LIFE:
of Mr. Pope, have much leſs merits or
at leaſt are much leſs agreeable. w Lord
PETERBOROUGH's wit is eaſy and un-
affected. At the time when he wrote
thoſe two letters, he had hung up his
helmet, and his buckler, and was retired
to his plough, and his wheelbarrow,
wearied of courts, and diſguſted with
ſtateſmen. He had made a moſt confi-
derable figure in his day. His character
was amiable and uncommon. His life
was a continued ſeries of variety. In
his public and private conduct he dif-
fered from moſt men. He had viſited
all climates, but had ſtaid in none. He
was a citizen of the world. He con-
quered and maintained armies without
money. His actions and expreſſions
were peculiar to himſelf. He was of a
vivacity fuperiour to all fatigue, and
his courage was beyond any conception
of danger. He verified, in many in
Itances, whatever has been ſaid of ro-
mantic heroes. He ſeems to have been
fixed
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 213
fixed only in his friendſhips and moral
principles. He had a moſt true regard
and affection for Swift and Pope. The
Dean, in a ſhort copy of verſes“, has
deſcribed him in a very particular man-
ner, but fo juſtly, that the four laſt
ſtanzas will give a moſt perfect, and
compleat idea of Lord PETERBOROUGH'S
perſon and military virtues,
• A ſkeleton in outward figure,
“ His meagre corps, though full of vigour,
o Would halt behind him were it bigger.
“ So wonderful his expedition,
“ When you have not the leaſt ſuſpicion,
" He's with you like an apparition.
“ Shines in all climates like a ſtar,
“ In fenates bold, and fierce in war,
* A land commander, and a tar.
* Heroic actions early bred in,
“ Ne'er to be match'd in modern reading,
" But by his name-fake CHARLES of Sweden.
• Vol. II. Page 222.
P 3
The
214 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
The Publick Spirit of the Whigs' is a
pamphlet in anſwer to the Crifis written
by Sir RICHARD ŠTEELE, but it con-
tains ſuch acute fatyr againſt the nobi-
lity of Scotland, that in an advertiſe-
ment printed before it; we are told,
" All the Scotch lords then in London went
“ in a body to complain againſt the author,
" and the conſequence of that complaint was
a proclamation offering a reward of
" three hundred pounds to diſcover him.
It was written in the year 1712, · by the
conſent, if not the encouragement of
the miniſters of that "ära." In the ſtyle
and conduct, it is one of the boldeft, as
well as one of the moſt maſterly tracts
that SWIFT ever wrote. And I cannot
help again obferving, that on whatever
topic he employs his pen, the ſubject
which he treats of, iş always fo excel-
lently managed, as to ſeem to have been
the whole ſtudy, and application of his
life : ſo that he appears, the greateſt
maſter through a greater variety of ma-
terials,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 215
terials, than perhaps have been diſcuſſed
by any other author.
The Biſhop of Saliſbury (Dr. BURNET)
is the next antagoniſt whom Swift at-
tacks in ſingle combat. I can give you
no better idea of this work, than by a
quotation from the tract itſelf, which is
called, A Preface to the Bishop of Saliſbury's
introduction to the third volume of the
Hiſtory of the Reformation of the Church
of England. Towards the latter end of
the Pamphlet a Swift ſays,
“ However he (THE BISHOP] thanks
« God, there are many among us who ſtand
« in the breach: I believe there may ; it
" is á BREACH of their own making, and
they dengn to come forward, and ſtorm
“ and plunder, if they are not driven back,
THEY MAKE THEMSELVES A WALL
FOR THEIR CHURCH AND COUNTRY,
" A south wall, I ſuppoſé, for all the
beſt fruit of the church and country to be
" nailed on. Let us examine this metaphor.
" THE WALL OF OUR CHURCH AND
COUNTRY is built of thoſe who love
Page 89.
P4
" the
316 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
" the conſtitution in both. Our domeſtic
“ enemies undermine fome parts of the
WALL, and place themſelves in the
BREACH; and then they cry, We
ARE THE WALL. We do not like ſuch
patch-work; they build with untempered
mortar ; nor can they ever cement with
us, till they get better materials; and bet-
ter workmen: God keep us from baving
our BREACHES made up with ſuch
“ rubbiſh : THEY STAND UPON THE
WATCHTOWER! They are indeed prag-
• matical enough to do ſo; but who aligned
" them that poſt, to give us falfe intelligence,
" to alarm us with falſe dangers, and fend
us to defend one gate, while their accom-
plices are breaking in at another ? THEY
66
CRY TO GOD DAY AND NIGHT TO
AVERT THE JUDGEMENT OF POPERY,
" WHICH SEEMS TO HASTEN TOWARDS
« Then I affirm, they are hypocrites
* by day, and filt by dreamers by night.
" When they cry unio "Him, He will not
* bear them: for they cry out againſt the
* plaineſt dietates of their own conſcience,
reaſon and belief.
US.
16
" But
"
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 2175
* But laſtly, THEY LIE IN:THE DUST,
MOURNING BEFORE HIM. Hang me if I
“ believe that, unleſs it be figuratively ſpoken.
" But, fuppoſe it to be true, why do THEŇ
LIE IN THE DUST? becauſe they love to
raiſe it; for what do they mourn} wby for
" power, wealth, and places. There let the
“ enemies of the Queen, Monarchy, and the
« Church lie, and mourn, and lick the DUST
“ like serpents, till they are truly ſenſible
" of their ingratitude, falfhood, diſobedience,
Flander, blaſphemy, ſedition, and every evil
" work."
I muſt follow the ſame method in form
ing your idea of the next pamphlet, by a
quotation out of it, which happens to be
the firſt paragraph. The title is, The Pref-
byterians Plea of Merit in order to take of
the Teſt, impartially examined: and the au-
thor begins in the true vein of wit and ſpi-
rit, by ſaying, “ We bave been told in the
common news papers, that all attempts art
" to be made this leffions by the preſbyterians
" and their abettors, for taking off the teſt;
as a kind of preparatory ſtep to make it go
“ down ſmoother in England. For, if once
THEIR LIGHT WOULD SO SHINE,
tbe
papiſts,
218
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
papiſts, delighted with the blaze, would
« all come in, and dance about it. This I
" take to be a prudent method, like that of a
“ diſcreet phyſician, who firſt gives a new me-
" dicine to a dog, before he preſcribes it to
A HUMAN CREATURE.” I have quoted
this ſhort paſſage for the ſtyle, as well
as the matter; and I dare ſay, even from
hence, you will be confirmed in one ge-
neral obſervation, that Swift maintains
and conducts his metaphors and allufi-
ons, with a juſtneſs particularly delicate
and exact, and without the leaſt ſtiffneſs,
or affectation, : In ſome of my former
letters, I have mentioned in what degree
of contempt and hatred he held the
diffenters, eſpecially the preſbyterians :
and I need only add, that as this pam-
phlet was written for the meridian of
Ireland, it ought to have been placed
with the other tracts on the ſame ſubject.
The ſubfequent pamphlet is, Advice
offered to the Members of tķe Otober Glub.
It was written in the year. -1711, and is
ſo applicable to that particular time, that I
ſhall
q
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 219
fhall not make any animadverſions
upon it. From political tracts, the true
hiſtory of England is to be deduced : and
if foreigners were to enter into that
branch of reading, they might frame a
more diſtinct notion of our legiſlature,
and of our manners, than from more la.
boured, and connected accounts of our
conftitutioni. In ſuch a view, I am apt
to think, that, at firſt ſight, they muſt
behold us, a diſunited, difcontented, and
feemingly an unſteady people : but I am
certain, that, upon a more minute dif-
quiſition, they muſt find in us a fixed,
and, I may ſay; "an innate love of liberty,
variegated, and perhaps ſometimes erro-
neous in its progreſs, but conſtant, and
unwearied in the purſuit of that glorious
end. What people upon earth can de-
fite a more exalted, or a more diftin-
guiſhed character ? To ſpeak in the dia-
lect of the heathen world, our errors are
the errors of men, our principles are the
principles of gods.
Thc
220
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
The other pieces in this volume, ex-
cept The Remarks on tbe Barrier Treaty,
are not, in my mind, ſufficiently ſtriking
to deſerve much notice. Some of them
are the minutiffima of Swift's writings,
which, I believe, he would ſcarce have
publiſhed, fond as he was of ſeeing his
works in print, if he had been in the full
vigour of his underſtanding, or had con-
ſidered, that thoſe kind of trifles, which
are weak as feathers, in ſupporting a
reputation, are heavy as lead, in dem
preſſing it.
-
I am, my deareft HAM,
4
Your moſt affectionate Father,
.
ORRERY
1
LE T-
AND WRITINGS OF DR: SWIFT. 121
00000000000999000000000000
i
L E T T E R XIX.
THE ſeventh volume contains Swift's
epiſtolary correſpondence, from the
year 1714 to the year 1737, and, as it is
an acknowledged obſervation, that no
part
of an author's writings give a greater
inſight into his natural diſpoſition than
his letters, (eſpecially when written with
freedom and ſincerity) I ſhall endeavour
to point out to you, ſuch circumſtances
in Swift's epiſtles, and in the anſwer
of his friends, as may afford
you mate-
rials to form your own conjectures upon
the different characters not only of the
Dean, but of his correſpondents. From
preceding letters, you are probably be-
come acquainted with Dr. Swift, but
the manners and opinions of thoſe
perſons with whom he correſponded,
every reſpect fo blended with his
own, as not to be eaſily ſeparated, and
are in
in
222
REMARKS ON THI LIFE
in ſuch a kind of united view, they
will mutually reflect light upon each
other.
To a young man juſt entering into
the world as you are, the ſubject may
prove of particular importance, as it
may guide him not only in the choice
of his correſpondents, but in his man-
ner of writing to them.
The freedom of the preſs is to be
watched and defended with the moſt
jealous eye. It is one of the chief ar.
ticles of that great Charter of liberty to
which the people of England are enti-
tled: but as no human inſtitution can
be perfect, even this branch of liberty
has its excrefcences that might be pruned.
I mean particularly that licenſe which
of late has too much prevailed of pub-
liſhing epiſtolary correſpondences. Such
a faſhion, for I know not what elſe to call
it, is extremely pernicious. At preſent,
it ſatisfies the curiofity of the public ;
but for the future, it will tend to rem
ſtrain
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 223
ſtrain that unſuſpicious openneſs, which
is the principal delight of writing to our
friends. I am ſorry to ſay by experience,
that the letters which contain the moſt
ſincere, and perhaps haſty obſervations
upon perſons, times, and circumſtances,
are often reſerved as treaſures, and
hoarded up, as miſers hoard gold ; like
which, they lie concealed in cabinets
and ſtrong boxes for ſome time, till
chancing to fall into the hands of an
extravagant. heir, or an injudicious exe-
cutor, they are not only brought into
light, but diſperſed and expoſed, ſo as
to become the property of the whole
world. Let me adviſe you therefore,
my HAMILTON, when you give your
opinion upon any important ſubject,
to conſider it well, before you commit
your thoughts to paper. Expreſs your:
ſelf with diffidence. Preſerve a prudent
reſtraint over the ſallies of wit and hu.
mour: and be cautious in all declara-
tions of friendſhip, as the very com-
mon
224
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
mon offers of civility, are too often
explained into undeſigned engagements.
I own, HAM, I find myſelf under no
ſmall difficulty in diſcuſſing this volume
of Swift's letters. General criticiſms
will be attended with obſcurity: and it
would be tedious to conſider them in
their exact order. I ſhall endeavour
therefore, to take a review only of what
ſeems to deſerve your attention. Let us
begin with the letters that paſſed between
Dr. Swift and Mr. Pope. The cor-
reſpondence had commenced in a very
early part of Mr. Pope's life, and was
carried on with ſcarce any interruption
from the death of the Queen. If we
may judge of Mr. Pope from his works,
his chief aim was to be eſteemed a man
of virtue. His letters are written in
.
that ſtyle. His laſt volumes are all of
the moral kind. He has avoided trifles,
and conſequently has eſcaped a rock
which has proved very injurious to
Swift's reputation. He has given his
imagina-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 226
imagination full ſcope, and yet has prem
ſerved a perpetual guard upon his con-
duct. The conſtitution of his body and
mind might early incline him to habits
of caution and reſerve. The treatment
which he met afterwards from an innu-
merable tribe of adverſaries, confirmed
thoſe habits, and made him ſower than
the Dean in pronouncing his judgement
upon perſons and things. His proſe
writings are little leſs harmonious than
his verſe: and his voice in common
converſation was ſo naturally muſical;
that I remember honeſt TOM SOUTHERNÉ
uſed always to call him The little nightin-
gale. His manners were delicate, eafy,
and engaging: and he treated his friends
with a politeneſs that charmed, and a
generoſity that was much to his honour.
Every gueſt was made happy within
his doors. Pleaſure dwelt under his
roof, and elegance preſided at his table.
Dr. Swift was of a different diſpofi-
tion : To his domeſtics he was paſſionate
a
and
:
226
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and churliſh: to his equals and ſuperiors
rather an entertaining than a deſirable
companion. He told a ſtory in an adı
mirable manner : his ſentences were
ſhort, and perfpicuous, his obſervations
were piercing. He had ſeen the great
world, and had profited much by his
experience. He had not the leaſt tinc.
ture of vanity in his converſation. He
was perhaps, as he faid himſelf, too
proud to be vain.
When he was polite,
it was in a manner entirely his own. In
his friendſhips he was conſtant and un-
diſguiſed. He was the fame in his
enmities. He generally ſpoke as he
thought in all companies and at all
times. I remember to have heard, that
he dined once at a Lord Mayor's feaſt
in Dublin, and was attacked, and teized
by an opulent, boiſterous, half-intoxi-
cated 'Squire, who happened to fit next
him: he bore the aukward railery for
ſome time, and then on a ſudden called
out in a loud voice to the Mayor, “ My
" Lord,
AND WRITINGS OF DR.SWIFT. 224
+ Lord, bere is one of your bears at my
shoulder, be has been worrying me tbis
balf hour, I defire you will order him to be
“ taken off.” In theſe laſt particulars he
differed widely from his friend Pope,
who could ſtifle reſentment, and wait
with patience till a mare diſtant, and
perhaps a more ſeaſonable hour of ré-
venge. But notwithſtanding the dif-
fimilitude of minds, and manners,
which was apparent between theſe two
great men, yet the ſame ſort of friend
ſhip ſeems to have fubfifted between
them, as between VIRGIL and HORACE.
The mutual affection of the two Engliſh
poets appears throughout their works :
and therefore in this place, I cannot
avoid taking notice of a report very
induftriouſly ſpread, and not without
ſome degree of ſucceſs,
of ſucceſs, « That the
friendſhip between Pope and SWIFT
was not ſo firm and perfect at the
“ latter end as at the beginning of
" their lives.” On Dr. Swift's fide,
Q2
I am
228 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
I am certain, it ever remained unaltera-
ble: nor did it appear leſs fervent on
the ſide of Mr. Pope. Their letters
are the beſt evidence to determine the
doubt. In one of Swift's lateſt let-
ters to me, not long before he was loſt
to all human comforts, he ſays,
" When
you fee my dear friend POPE, tell him I
“ will anſwer bis letter foon ; I love him
« above all the reſt of mankind.” In my
long correſpondence with Mr. POPE,
I ſcarce received the leaſt billet from
him, without the kindeſt mention of
Dr. Swift: and the tendereſt anxiety
for his ſtate of health. Judge by the
following paragraphs. The firſt, dated
July the 12th, 1737.
My Lord, The pleaſure you gave me, in
acquainting me of the Dean's better health,
is one fo truly great, as might content even
your own humanity : and whatever my fin-
cere opinion and reſpect of your Lordſhip
prompts me to wiſh from your bands for my-
ſelf, your love for bim makes me as happy.
Would
!
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 229
Would to God my weight, added to your's, could
turn bis inclinations to this ſide, that I might
live to enjoy him bere tbro'
your means, and
flatter myſelf 'twas partly thro' my own!
But this, I fear, will never be the caſe; and
I think it more probable, his attraction will
draw me on the other hide, which, I proteft,
nothing leſs than a probability of dying at ſea,
conſidering the weak frame of my breaſt, would
bave hindered me from, two years paſt. In
Mort, whenever I think of him, 'tis with the
vexation of all impotent paſions that carry us
out of ourſelves only to ſpoil our quiet, and
make us return to a reſignation, which is the
moſt melancholy of all virtues.
And in an-
other letter, dated April 2, 1738, he ſays,
Iwrite by the
fame poſt that I received your very
cbliging and humane letter. The confideration you
Skew towards me, in the juſt apprehenfion that
any news of the Dean's condition might alarm
me, is moſt kind and generous. The very laſt
poft I writ to him a long letter, little ſuſpect-
ing him in that dangerous circumſtance. I
was ſo far from fearing his health, that I
was propoſing ſchemes, and hoping poſſibilities
for our meeting once more in this world. I am
weary of it ; and ſhall have one reaſon more,
and one of the ſtrongeſt that nature can give
Q3
230
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ore (even when fhe is Making my weak frame
to pieces) to be willing to leave this world,
when our dear friend is on the edge of the
other. Yet I hope, I would fain bope, be
may yet hover a while on the brink of it, to
preſerve to this wretched age a relique and ex-
ample of the laſt. One more quotation, and I
have done. TWITNAM, November 7.
When you get to Dublin (whether I direct
this, ſuppoſing you will ſee our dear friend as
foon as poſſible) pray put the Dean in mind of
mre, and tell him I hope he received
Tell him how dearly I love, and how greatly
I honour him: how greatly I reflect on every
teſtimony of his friendſhip; bow much I rem
folve to give the beſt I can of my eſteem for
him to poſterity; and aſſure him the world
bas nothing in it I admire ſo much, nothing,
the loſs of which I should regret ſo much, as
bis genius and his virtues.
my laft.
My excufe, for I ſtand in need of one,
by having inſerted thefe fcraps of letters,
is
my real deſire of convincing you, that
the affection of Swift and POPE ſub-
fifted as entire and uninterrupted as their
friends could wiſh, or their enemies re-
gret.
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 234
gret. It muſt be owned, that we as ſel-
dom ſee a mutual attachment between
poets, as between ſtateſmen.
" True
friendſhip, as Tully obſerves, proceeds
" from a reciprocal eſteem, and a virtuous
“ reſemblance of manners.” When ſuch
is the baſis, the variety in certain tenets
and opinions is of no ill conſequence to
the union: and will ſcarce ever unlooſe
the focial ties of love, veneration, and
eſteem. Thus the friendſhip between
Atticus and HORTENSIVS, although
they were of different ſects, one a Stoic,
and the other an Epicurean, ſubfifted
like Mr. Pope's and Dr. Swift's, furm
and conſtant to the laſt, when that of
ANTHONY, LEPIDUS, and AUGUSTUS,
continued no longer than while it was
ſubſervient to their views of intereſt.
CATILINE ſays, Idem velle, ac idem nolle,
ea demum amicitia eft. This often attends
a vitious conſpiracy; and perhaps an
agreement ſo perfectly mutual, is fcarce
to be met with in any other inſtance.
Emulation
Q4
232
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Emulation generally breaks the chain of
friendſhip between poets. They are run-
ning with the utmoſt eagerneſs to the
ſame goal; no wonder, if, in the race,
they endeavour to trip up each other's
heols.
As I have often reverted in my mind
certain particulars relating to my two poe-
tical friends, I have always thought, that
the circumſtance of their purſuing dif-
ferent roads in poetry, and living in dif-
ferent kingdoms, was probably one of the
happieſt incidents in their lives. Such
a ſeparation prevented all perſonal diſſen-
ſions, and fixt them in a correſpondence,
that conſtantly tended to eſtabliſh their
endearments; when, perhaps, a reſidence
near each other, might have had a very
contrary effect. It is much eaſier to rec-
tify any miſtake, or to cool
any
animo.
fity that may have ariſen, in a letter, than
to recal a paſſionate verbal anſwer, eſper
cially if uttered with all the actions, and
vehemence of anger. The impreſſion of
fuch
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 233
ſuch a ſcene remains long upon the mind
of the perſon offended, and the old adage
is tranſpoſed, Vox audita manet, litera
fcripta perit. Few men can ſubmit to
contradiction. Swift was certainly not
of the number, and therefore I am per-
ſuaded, that his diſtance from his Engliſh
friends, proved a ſtrong incitement to
their mutual affection. But, I muſt
again repeat, that throughout the long
ſeries of letters which have been publiſh-
ed, not the leaſt altercations appear to
have happened between Swift and PopE.
In all Swift's writings, you will find
his own peculiar vein of humour. The
ſame liberty of expreſſion would have
been improper and abſurd in any other
writer, but it produced the conſequences
which he deſired. His ſeeming arrogance
gained him more favour than the humi-
lity, and affected benevolence of others.
His railery and freedom of cenſure, are
conveyed in a manner more prevalent,
and perhaps often more agreeable than
flattery
234
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
flattery. He ſeldom praiſed, but where
merit was conſpicuous. A ſingle ftroke
of his pen pleaſed more, and gave more
honour, than a long flattering dedication
from any other author. His ſtyle was
maſterly, correct, and ſtrong : never dif-
fufive, yet always clear; and, if we con-
ſider it in compariſon with his predeceſ-
fors, he has outdone them all, and is
one, perhaps the chief, of thoſe few ſe-
lect Engliſh writers, who have excelled
in elegance and propriety of language.
Lord Bacon is the firſt author, who
has attempted any ſtyle that can be re-
liſhable to the preſent age, for I muft
own to you, that I think Swift, and
his cotemporaries, have brought our lan.
guage to the utmoſt degree of perfection,
without the help of a LONGINUS, a
QUINTILIAN, or even of a dictionary, or
a grammar. Lord Bacon has written
with an infinite fund of knowledge :
every ſcience that he treats upon, is diſ-
cuſſed by him with the greateſt learning
and
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 235
and dignity, and he ſhews himſelf at once
a philoſopher, an hiſtorian, a politician,
and a divine : but his dialect (for, that
demands our preſent attention) is quib-
bling and pedantic; and never more fo
than when he condeſcends to flatter his
royal maſter, and the minions of that
court.
Conſider the proſaical works of Mil-
TON, you will find them more nervous
than elegant; more diſtinguiſhed by the
ftrength of reaſon, than by the rules of
rhetoric; his diction is harſh, his periods
tedious; and, when he becomes a proſe-
writer, the majeſty, that attends his po-
etry, vaniſhes, and is entirely loſt : yet,
with all his faults, and excluſive of his
character as a poet, he muſt ever remain
the only learned author of that taſteleſs
age in which he flouriſhed: and it is
pro-
bable, that his great attention to the La-
tin language, might have rendered him
leſs correct, than he otherwiſe would
have been, in his native tongue.
HAR-
236 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
HARRINGTON has his admirers, he
may poſſibly have his merits, but they
Aow not in his ſtyle. A later writer, of
the ſame republican principles, has far
excelled him ; I mean, ALGERNON SYD-
NEY, whoſe diſcourſes concerning go-
vernment are admirably written, and
contain great hiſtorical knowledge, and
a remarkable, propriety of diction ; fo
that his name, in my opinion, ought to
be much higher eſtabliſhed in the temple
of literature, than I have hitherto found
it placed.
Lord CLARENDON, is an hiſtorian
whoſe dignity of expreſſion has juſtly
given him the preference to any of our
biographical authors. But his periods
are the periods of a mile. His parentheſes
embarraſs the ſenſe of his narration, and
certain inaccuracies, appearing through-
out his works, are delivered with a for-
mality that renders them ftill more con-
fpicuous,
Among
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 239
Among our Engliſh writers, few men
have gained a greater character for.ele-
gance and correctneſs, than SPRAT, Bi-
ſhop of Rocheſter, and few men have de-
ſerved it leſs. When I have read his
works, I have always wondered from
whence ſuch a piece of good fortune
might have ariſen, and could only attri-
bute it to Mr. COWLEY, who, in a very
delicate copy of verſes, has celebrated
his friend Dr. SPRAT for eloquence, wit,
and a certain candid ſtyle, which the poet
compares to the river Ibames, gliding
with an even current, and diſplaying the
moſt beautiful appearances of nature.
Poets and painters have their favourites;
whom they tranſmit to poſterity in what
colours and attitudes they pleaſe: but I
am miſtaken, if, upon a review of SPRAT'S
works, his language will not ſooner
give you an idea of one of the inſignifi-
cant tottering boats upon the Thames,
than of the ſmooth noble current of the
river itſelf.
Sir
238
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE is an eaſy,
careleſs, incorrect writer, elegantly neg-
ligent, politely learned, and engagingly
familiar.
Thus, my dear HAM, I have curforily
mentioned fome of the brighteſt fons of
fame among our Engliſh authors, only
to point out to you the preference due to
Dr. SWIFT: but he is not entitled alone
to the olive garland : he has had his co-
adjutors in the victory. The triumvirate,
to whom we owe an elegance and pro-
priety unknown to our forefathers, are
SWIFT, ADDISON, and BOLINGBROKE.
At the ſight of ſuch names, no diſpute
can ariſe in preferring the Engliſh mo-
derns to the Engliſh antients. The pre-
ſent century, and indeed all future ge-
ncrations may be congratulated upon the
acquiſition of three ſuch men.
But to return more cloſely to SWIFT.
He has perfectly ſtudied the drama of
human life, and particularly the ten-
dency and irregularities of its different
cha-
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 239
characters. He has chofen, (as I dare
ſay I have mentioned in former letters)
to recommend virtue, by repreſenting
vice in a diſagreeable and ridiculous light.
As his temper was naturally full of acri-
mony, a certain innate ſeverity runs
throughout all his letters. You will find
him, in the advice, which he offers to
his friends, and in the general account
which he gives of his own conduct, too
clofe an economiſt. This parſimony pro-
Cooded from a deſire of being independ-
ent: and ſince that was the cauſe, he
will be forgiven, or, at leaſt, excuſed by
all honeſt men.
Mr. POPE had different talents from
his friend Swift: his imagination was
fine and delicate : his fancy wa's ever on
the wing. In his earlier time of life, his
way of thinking was diffufive, and con-
fequently his judgement was unconfined.
As that judgement ripened with years,
he thewed the full ſtrength of it in his
Exbic Epifles, and his Efay on Man.
There
.....:::::
* nomaine de mon premieta va inimesed being calibrations inclosos alumnos de lokalet
240
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
?
There the poet has almost yielded to the
philoſopher; and his moral ſyſtem has
charmed more by the force of truth and
reaſon, than even by the numbers with
which he adorned it.
I cannot avoid thinking, that, in this
particular branch of learning, Mr. POPE
owed the exertion of his talents to Lord
BOLING BROKE, who had ſtudied the pro-
cedure, and limits of the human under-
ſtanding, as exactly as Swift had confi-
dered the irregularities of the paſſions in
different characters of the human fpecies.
Lord BOLINGBROKE had early made him-
ſelf maſter of books and men : but, in
his firſt career of life, being immerſed at
once in buſineſs and pleaſure, he ran
thorough a variety of ſcenes in a ſurpriſ-
ing and excentric manner. When his
paſſions ſubſided by years and diſappoint-
ments, and when he improved his rati-
onal faculties by more grave ſtudies and
reflexion, he ſhone out in his retirement
with a luſtre peculiar to himſelf; though
not
AND WRITINGS OF DRI SWIFT. 241
.
not ſeen by vulgar eyes. The gay ſtateſ-
man was changed into à philoſopher
equal to any of the ſages of antiquity.
The wiſdom of SOCRATES, the dignity
and eaſe of Pliny, and the wit of Ho.
RACE, appeared in all his writings and
converſation
But my letter is growing to an intole-
rable length. It is time to finiſh it; and
believe me, Hamilton, were my letters
to fill reams of paper, they would be
written only with a view of repeating the
dictates of my heart, which, in its laſt
beating moments, will throb towards
you, and thoſe other dear objects, to
whom I am
An affectionate Father,
ORR ER Y.
R
LET
242
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
********
L E T T E R XX.
I
Have been reading this morning a
long letter from Dr.: Swift to Mr.
Pope, dated at Dublin, January 10,
1721", and I have been confined to a
greater ſhare of attention, as it ſeems to
furniſh more materials of his life and
principles, than any other of his epiſtolary
writings. The letter breaths an air of
ſincerity and freedom, and is addreſſed to
a particular friend at a time, when the
views of ambition were at an end. It
may therefore be conſidered as a confef-
fion of one departing from this world,
who only is deſirous to vindicate his own
character, and is anxious that his aſhes
peace.
It was written immediately after the
arbitrary conduct of a judge in Irelana,
who endeavoured to deſtroy the freedom
a Volume VII. Page 12.
of
may reſt in
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 243
of juries, and conſequently the very ef-
ſence of that liberty and ſafety, which
we have a right to poſſeſs by the conſti-
tution of our ſtate. Swift very gene
roully declares himſelf averſe to all rigora
ous proceedings againſt perſons ſuſpected
of problematical guilt. By ſuch ſtrict
enquiries, ſays he, a gate is left open to
“ the whole tribe of informers, the moſt ac-
curſed, proſtitute, and abandoned race that
" GOD ever permitted to plague ñankind."
Upon this ſubject I cannot avoid recol-
lecting ſome particulars from a book,
which has lately given me great delight
and inſtruction, and which I recommend
very warmly to your perufäl. I mean
L'Eſprit des Loix.
The author of that
book, MONSIEUR DE MONTESQUIEU OB-
ſerves, “ that informers have been chiefly
encouraged under the moſt tyrannical
“ governments. In the reign of TIBE
RIUS triumphal ornaments were con-
« ferred
upon them, and ſtatues erected
“ to their honour. In the reign of NERO,
R3
upon
244
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
CC
upon the diſcovery and puniſhment of
a pretended conſpiracy, triumphal
dignities were allotted to TURPILIA-
NUS, Cocceius NERVA, and. TIGIL-
“ LINUs.” In another part of his book,
the BARON DE MONTESQUIEU takes no-
tice, that in Turkey, where little re-
gard is ſhewn to the honour, lives,
“ or eſtates of the ſubject, all cauſes are
« determined by the preſiding Baſhaw :
« and in Rome, the judges had no more
" to do than to declare, that the perſon
" accuſed was guilty of a particular crime,
" and then the puniſhment was found
" in the laws.” From theſe, and other
examples of arbitrary government, this
elegant author takes a particular pleaſure
in diſtinguiſhing, and admiring the civil
conſtitution of England, where, he ſays,
" the jury determine, whether the fact,
brought under their cognizance, be
proved or not, if it be proved, the
judge pronounces the puniſhment in-
flicted by the law for ſuch a particular
o fact :
१ }
wagon
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 245
“ fact : and for this, adds the BARON,
“ he need only open his eyes.” But if
Monsieur DE MONTESQUIEU had read
Swift's letter, or indeed had recollected
many notorious facts of our hiſtory, he
muſt have obſerved, that the judges have
been often deaf to the repeated voice of
the jury, and have not only ſhut their
eyes, againſt our excellent laws, but have
aſſumed, that terrible and menacing
" air, which COMMODUS ordered to be
given to his ſtatues.”
The method of trials by juries, is ge-
nerally looked upon as one of the moſt
excellent branches of our conſtitution.
In theory. it certainly appears in that
light. According to the original eſta-
bliſhment, the jurors are to be men of
competent fortunes in the neighbour-
hood : and are to be fo avowedly indif-
ferent between the parties concerned,
that no reaſonable exception can be made
to them on either ſide. In treaſon the
perfon accuſed has a right to challenge
five
R 3
j
246 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
five and thirty, and in felony twenty,
without ſhewing cauſe of challenge. No-
thing can be more equitable. No pri-
foner can deſire a fairer field. But the
misfortune is, that our juries are often
compoſed of men of mean eſtates, and
low underſtandings, and many difficult
points of law are brought before them,
and ſubmitted to their verdict, when
perhaps they are not capable of deter-
mining, properly and judiciouſly, ſuch
nice matters of juſtice, although the
judges of the court explain the nature of
the cafe, and the law which ariſes upon
it. But, if they are not defective in
knowledge, they are ſometimes, I fear,
from their ſtation and indigence, liable
to corruption. This indeed is an objec-
tion more to the privilege lodged with
juries, than to the inſtitution itſelf. The
point, moft liable to objection, is the
power, which any one, or more of the
twelve, have to ſtarve the reſt into a
compliance with their opinion ; ſo that
the
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 247
he verdict may poſſibly be given by
ſtrength of conſtitution, not by convic-
tion of conſcience : “ and wretches bang
" that jurymen may dine.” All this by the
by. Now let us return to Swift's letter
of the tenth of January.
In it is moſt evidently diſplayed his im-
mutable attachment to Ireland. Such a
kind of patriotiſm muſt have proceeded
from a true love of liberty ; for he hated
individuals, and deſpiſed moſt of the men
of property and power in that kingdom :
he owed them no obligations, and while
by his writings he labourod to make their
poſterity happy, he forced from themſelves
an involuntary, but univerſal applauſe.
His conduct was ſo uniform, and conſtant
in the cauſe of Ireland, that he not only
gained the praiſe, but the confidence of
that whole nation, who are a people fel-
dom, if ever, inclined to ſtudy and pur-
ſue their own intereft, and who are al-
ways exceedingly apt to ſuſpect any ad-
vice
R 4
248 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
--
vice that is contrary, or in defiance to a
miniſterial direction.
Swift's principles of
government
ſeem to have been founded upon that
excellent maxim, Salus populi fuprema eft
lex. He begins by clearing himſelf from
Jacobitiſm. He ſpeaks of the revolution
as a neceſſary but dangerous expedient,
which has ſince been attended with un-
avoidable bad conſequences. He declares
his mortal antipathy to ſtanding armies
in time of peace. He adores the wiſdom
of that inſtitution which rendered our
parliaments annual. He prefers the
landed to the monied intereſt, and ex-
preſſes a noble abhorrence to the ſuſpen-
fion of thoſe laws, upon which the li.
berty of the ſubject depends. When
theſe articles of his political tenets are
examined, they will leave no room for
any one particular party to affume the
honour of having had him in their alli-
ance. He was neither Whig nor Tory,
neither
*
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 249
neither Jacobite nor Republican. He
was Doctor Swift.
His judgement, in relation to the viſie
ble decay of literature and good ſenſe,
is perfectly juſt. He attributes this na-
tional calamity to the prevailing luxury
of the times, which he inſtances in the
encouragement of factions, and of fe-
veral public diverſions, all tending to
the encreaſe of folly, ignorance, and
vice. His ſentiments are delivered more
with the air of a philoſopher than of a
divine : and the concluſion of the letter
is ſo proper, and ſo excellent a defence
of his own manner of acting and think-
ing, that, in regard to his memory, I
muſt be at the trouble of tranſcribing it.
All I can reaſonably hope for, ſays
« Swift, by this letter, is to convince my
.
"! friends and others, who are pleaſed to wiſh
me well, that I have neither been ſo ill a
ſubject, nor so ſtupid an author, as I have
'? been repreſented by the virulence of libel-
Vol. VII. Page 26.
« lers,
250
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
les
« lers, where malice bath taken the fame
train in both, by fathering dangerous prin-
ciples in government upon me, which I ne-
ver maintained, and infipid productions,
" which I am not capable of writing. For,
" however I may bave been fowered by per-
ſonal ill treatment, or by melancholy pro-
Spects for the public, I am too much a po-
“ litician to expoſe my own ſafety by offenhve
" words, and, if my genius and ſpirit be
ſunk by encreaſing years, I have at leaſt
enough diſcretion left, not to miſtake the
meaſure of my own abilities, by attempt-
ing ſubje&ts where thoſe talents are necef-
fary, which perhaps I may have loſt with
my youth."
60
I have choſen out this particular letter,
as one of the moſt ſerious, and beſt per-
formances that he has given us in the
epiſtolary way. But, if I am to declare
my opinion of the whole collection in the
ſeventh volume, I own to you, it has
not anſwered my expectation. The in-
dex at the beginning will make you
hope for great treaſures, from the il-
luſtrious
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 251
luſtrious names that are there inſerted: but,
in
your purſuit, you will ſcarce find
any
remarkable inſtructions of morality, or
even the common reaſonings and rem
finements that might naturally ariſe from
fo high a claſs of men, in the ordinary
current of their thoughts. What is more
ſurpriſing, you will ſeldom diſcover any
keen ſtrokes of ſatyr, or any inſtanta-
neous fallies of vivacity. I have often
heard Swift ſay, “ When I fit down to
« write a letter, I never lean upon my ela
« bow, till Į bave finiſhed it." By which
expreſſion he meant, that he never ftu-
died for particular phraſes, or poliſhed
paragraphs : his letters therefore are the
truer repreſentations of his mind. They
are written in the warmth of his affecti-
ons, and when they are conſidered in the
light of kindneſs and finĉerity, they il-
luſtrate his character to a very high de-
gree, Throughout his various corre-
ſpondence you will diſcover very ſtrong
marks of an anxious, benevolent friend :
and,
252
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and, to my great pleaſure, I find the
miſanthrope often loſt in the good-na-
tured man. Read his letters to Mr. GAY,
and you will be of my ſentiment; read
thoſe to Dr. SHERIDAN, in the eighth
volume", and you will be farther con-
firmed in that opinion; we may com-
pound therefore to loſe ſatyr and railery,
when we gain humanity and tenderneſs
in their ſtead : yet, even in ſome of his
higheſt ſcenes of benevolence, his expreſ-
fions are delivered in ſuch a manner, as
to ſeem rather the effects of haughtineſs
than of good-nature : but you muſt nę-
yer look upon him as a traveller in the
common road. He muſt be viewed
through a camera obſcura that turns all
objects the contrary way. When he ap-
pears moſt angry, he is moſt pleaſed!
when moft humble, he is moſt aſſuming :
3
• Beginning at page 384.
See his letters to Ğay, and to the Dutcheſs of
Queenſborough, in Vol. VII. VI
See his letter to Lord PALMERSTON, Vol. VIII.
page 373
Such
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 253
Such was the man, and in ſuch varie-
gated colours muſt he be painted.
The letters from Lord BOLINGBROKE,
which are inſerted in this collection, are
written with an elegance and politeneſs
that diſtinguiſh them from all the reſt.
We ſee they were not intended for the
preſs, but how valuable are the moſt
careleſs ſtrokes of ſuch a pen ?
Gay's letters have nothing in them
ſtriking or recommendatory. His ſenti-
ments are thoſe of an honeſt, indolent,
good-natured man. He loved Swift to
a degree of veneration : and the friend-
fhip was returned with great ſincerity.
Swift writes to him in the ſame ſtrain
as he would have written to a ſon: and
ſeems to diſtinguiſh him as the corre-
fpondent to whom he has not the leaſt
grain of reſerve. In the ſeveral accounts
which he gives of his ſituation at Dublin,
and the idle manner of his paſſing his
time there, he writes ſometimes in an
ironical, and ſometimes in a contrary
ſtyle.
254
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ſtyle. But, in one of his letters, dated
Auguſt 28, 1731', he tells GAY, “ that
<< the moſt arrant trifles of his former
writings are ſerious philofophical lu-
“ cubrations, in compariſon to what he
« now buſies himſelf about;" and his
concluſive words are, “ As the world may
one day ſee.”. By this deſire of letting the
world ſee what other men of leſs wit and
more diſcretion, would carefully have
concealed, he has placed himſelf open to
the cenſure of his enemies, and beyond
the reach of any defence from his friends.
He has not only committed to the preſs
a moſt deſpicable heap of writings, but
has publicly recorded the loweſt amuſe.
ments of his private ſcenes of life, with-
out having once ſuſpected, that perſons,
whoſe ſtations, or abilities, have fixed
them in a conſpicuous attitude, are look-
ed upon by the reſt of mankind with a
very critical, and a very envious eye.
AUGUSTUS, as I remember, was a little
. Vol. VII. Letter LIII. page 185.
aſhamed
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 255
aſhamed to be diſcovered at a game of cob
nuts : and even Domitian was cunning
enough to withdraw into his cloſet to
catch Aies. Great minds, you will ſay,
require to be often unbent.
I allow it;
but thoſe relaxations might be choſen,
ſo as to make idleneſs appear in a beau-
tiful light: and Swift would have for-
feited a leſs degree of fame by playing
many years at puſh-pin, (the records of
which he could not have printed,) than
by compoſing various kinds of nonſenſe,
which, by his own option, have been
honoured with a place in his works.
I ſhould have been much pleaſed, in
finding ſome of Dr. ARBUTHNOT's let-
ters among this collection. Although
he was juſtly celebrated for wit and
learning, there was an excellence in his
character more amiable than all his other
qualifications: I mean the excellence of
his heart. He has ſhewed himſelf equal to
any of his cotemporaries in humour and
vivacity: and he was ſuperior to moſt
men
256 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
CRATES.
men in acts of humanity and bene-
volence: his
very ſarcaſms are the ſatiri-
cal ſtrokes of good-nature; they are like
flaps of the face given in jeſt, the effects
of which may raiſe bluſhes, but no
blackneſs will appear after the blows.
He laughs as jovially as an attendant
upon Bacchus, but continues as fober
and conſiderate as a diſciple of So-
He is ſeldom ſerious, except
in his attacks upon vice, and then his
ſpirit riſes with a manly ſtrength, and a
noble indignation.
His epitaph upon
CHARTRES, (allowing one ſmall altera-
tion, the word permitted, inſtead of con-
nived at) is a compleat, and a maſterly
compoſition in its kind. No man ex-
ceeded him in the moral duties of life: a
merit ſtill more to his honour, as the
ambitious powers of wit and genius are
feldom ſubmiſſive enough to confine
themſelves within the limitations of mo-
a See Pope's Works, by WARBURTON, Vol. III.
page 219
rality
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 257
rality. In his letter to Mr. Pope, writ-
ten, as it were, upon his death-bed, he
diſcovers ſuch a noble fortitude of mind
at the approach of his diſſolution, as
could only be inſpired by a clear conſci-
ence, and the calm retroſpect of an un-
interrupted ſeries of virtue. The Dean b
laments the loſs of him with a pathetic
ſincerity, “ The death of Mr. Gay and the
" Doctor (ſays he to Mr. Pope) have
" been terrible wounds near my heart. Their
living would have been a great comfort
" to me, although I ſhould never have ſeen
" them; like a ſum of money in a bank,
from which I ſhould receive at leaſt an-
“ nual intereſt, as I do from you, and
“ have done from Lord BOLINGBROKE.”
I have choſen this laſt quotation, not
more in honour of Swift's tenderneſs and
affection to thoſe whom he eſteemed,
· See again Pope by WARBURTON, Vol. VIII.
Letter XLVII.
• Swift's Works, Vol. VII. Letter LXX.
ARBUTHNOT.
S
than
258
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
than with a deſign of ſpecifying to you
as fine a groope of friends ?, as have ap-
peared ſince the Auguſtan age. As their
letters were not intended for the public,
perhaps I was unreaſonable in looking
for medals, and not being contented with
the common current ſpecies. In our
prejudices of favour or averſion we are
apt to be deceived by names: nor can it
be doubted, that ſuch writers might have
furniſhed us with familiar letters, very
different from thoſe, which have been
collected in this ſeventh volume. They
are filled indeed (eſpecially in the corre-
ſpondence between Swift and POPE)
with the ſtrongeſt expreſſions of mutual
eſteem ; but thoſe expreſſions are re-
peated too often. When friendſhip has
ſubfiſted ſo long, that time cannot en-
creaſe, nor words improve it, the com-
merce of affection between friends ought
to be carried on in a ſtyle that neither
• Lord BOLINGBROKE, SWIFT, POPE, ARBUTH-
NOT, Gay.
finks
i
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 259
finks below politeneſs, nor riſes into
forced compliments. I cannot avoid ob-
ſerving the epiſtolary conciſeneſs that was
in faſhion among the antients, eſpecially
their concluſive ſentences, [vale. Or
again, Si valeas bene eſt, valeo :) which
I own ſeems preferable to our method of
loading every letter with compliments,
not only to wives and children, but to
uncles, aunts, and couſins : and of con-
ſequence, every relation, that is not par-
ticularly named, is particularly affronted.
It will appear too minute à criticiſm to
affirm, that the Engliſh language is not
well adapted for epiſtolary writings : be
that as it may, it is certainly inferior to
the French, which engages, and perhaps
improves us by a ſucceſſive flow of
phraſes that are peculiar to that na-
tion. MADAME DE SEVIGNE' has filled
four volumes of letters, all addreſſed to
her daughter : they contain nothing,
except different ſcenes of maternal fond-
S2
neſs;
260
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
neſs; yet, like a claſſic, the oftener they
are read, the more they are reliſhed.
Monsieur De Pelisson has publiſhed
three volumes of letters, which he calls
Lettres Hiſtoriques, and which are little
elſe than materials for a gazette : they
inform us at what time the grand Mon-
arque aroſe ; when he went to bed ; at
what hour he dined; and what he ſaid
while he was at fupper : yet all theſe
trifles are told in ſo agreeable a manner,
and appear ſo natural and eaſy, that I
can ſcarce think the ſkill of OviD great-
er, who, in his Faſti, has turned the
Roman Calendar into elegant poetry,
and has verſified a ſet of old Almanacs.
I need not mention VOITURE, or BAL-
ZAC, and perhaps it was wrong to turn
aſide into the Roman, and the French
territories, when I ought to have con-
fined myſelf to the Britiſh iſlands; but I
love to wander about with
you,
and in
writing as in walking, to peep into every
**
corner
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 261
corner that may afford us matter of en-
tertainment.
I am, my dear HAMILTON,
Your ever affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
P.S. At the latter end of the ſeventh
volume, is a pamphlet written in the year
1714. It is entitled, Free Thoughts upon
the preſent State of Affairs. When
you
have read it, digito compefce labellum.
WOHORROSO
LETTER
XXI.
My dear HAMILTON,
IT is ſcarce poſſible to know in what
manner to comment upon the laſt
volume of the Dean's works. A general
confuſion and diſorder runs throughout
thç whole, and one of the firſt pieces,
**
S3
is,
262 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
is, what ought to have been the laſt, Dr,
Swift's Will: which, like all his other
writings, is drawn up in his own pecu-
liar manner.
Even in ſo ſerious a com
poſition he cannot help indulging him-
ſelf, in leaving legacies that carry with
them an air of raillery and jeſt. He dif-
poſes of his three hats (his beſt, his fer
cond beſt, and his third beſt beaver)
with an ironical folemnity, that renders
the bequeſts ridiculous. He bequeaths
« to Mr. John GRATTAN a filver box,
to keep in it, the tobacco which the ſaid
JOHN uſually chewed, called pigtail.”
But, his legacy to Mr. ROBERT GRAT-
Tan is ſtill more extraordinary, Item
" I bequeath to the Reverend Mr. ROBERT
" GRATTAN, Prebendary of St. Audeon's,
my ſtrong box, on condition of his giving
s the ſole uſe of the ſaid box to his brother,
$ Dr. James GRATTAN, during the
# life of the ſaid Doctor, who bath more oc-
“ cafion for it." Theſe are ſo many laſt
impreſſions of his turn, and way of
$C
think-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 263
thinking: and I dare ſay, the perſons
thus diſtinguiſhed, look upon theſe in-
ſtances, as affectionate memorials of his
friendſhip, and as tokens of the jocoſe
manner, in which he had treated them
during his life time.
His monumental inſcription, written
by himſelf, and inſerted at the beginning
of his Will, may confirm to you the obſerv-
ation which I made in a former letter, that
he was not an elegant writer of Latin.
An harſher epitaph has feldom been
compoſed. It is ſcarce intelligible, and
if intelligible, is a proof how difficult a
taſk it is, even for the greateſt genius,
to draw his own character, or to repre-
ſent himſelf and his actions in a proper
manner to poſterity.
I am now drawing towards the laſt
ſcene of his life. The total deprivation
of his fenſes came upon him by degrees.
In the
year 1736, I remember him ſeized
with a violent fit of giddineſs. He was
at that time writing a ſatirical poem, ,
called
S 4
264
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
called the Legion Club, but he found the
effects of his giddineſs ſo dreadful, that
he left the poem unfiniſhed; and never
afterwards attempted a compoſition of
any length either in verſe or profe.
However, his converſation ſtill remained
the ſame ; lively and ſevere ; but his me-
mory gradually grew worſe and worſe :
and as that decreaſed and was impaired,
he appeared every day more fretful and
impatient. From the year thirty nine to
the latter end of the year forty one, his
friends found his paſſions fo violent and
ungovernable, his memory ſo decayed,
and his reaſon fo depraved, that they
took the utmoſt precautions to keep all
ſtrangers from approaching him : for,
till then, he had not appeared totally in-
capable of converſation : but early in the
year forty two, the ſmall remains of his
underſtanding became entirely confuſed,
and the violence of his
rage
encreaſed
abſolutely to a degree of madneſs. In
this miſerable ſtate, he ſeemed to be ap-
pointed
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 265
pointed as the firſt proper inhabitant
for his own hoſpital : eſpecially as from
an outragious lunatic, he ſunk after-
wards into a quiet, ſpeechleſs idiot ; and
dragged out the remainder of his life
in that helpleſs ſituation. He died to-
wards the latter end of O&tober 1745.
The manner of his death was eaſy, with-
out the leaſt pang or convulſion. Even
the rattling in his throat was ſcarce fuffi-
cient to give any alarm to his attendants,
till within ſome very little time before he
expired. A man in full poffeffion of his
reaſon, would have wiſhed for ſuch a
kind of diſſolution, but SWIFT was to-
tally inſenſible of happineſs or pain : he
had not even the power or expreſſion of
a child, appearing, for ſome years before
his death, reſerved only as an example to
mortify human pride, and to reverſe that
fine deſcription of human nature, which
is given us by SHAKESPEARE in an inimi-
table manner : “ What a piece of work is
“ man! how noble in reaſon! how infinite
« in
266 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
>>
in faculty! in form and moving, bow ex-
preſs and admirable! in action, how like
an angel ! in apprehenfion, how like a
god! the beauty of the world, the paragon
of animals." Thus poets paint; but
how vain and periſhable is the picture?
The ſmalleſt thunderbolt from heaven
blaſts it in a moment, and every tinat
is ſo effectually obliterated, that ſcarce
the outlines of the figure remain.
SWIFT, as I have hinted in a former
letter“, certainly foreſaw his fate. His
frequent attacks of giddineſs, and his ma-
nifeſt defect of memory gave room for
ſuch apprehenſions. I have often heard
him lament the ſtate of childhood, and
idiotiſm, to which ſome of the greateſt
men of this nation were reduced before
their death. He mentioned, as examples
within his own time, the Duke of MARL-
BOROUGH, and Lord SOMERS : and when
he cited theſe melancholy inſtances, it
was always with a heavy figh, and with
a See Letter VI,
geſtures
mar
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 267
geſtures that ſhewed great uneaſineſs, as
if he felt an impulſe of what was to hap-
pen to him before he died.
Unleſs I am miſinformed, he died
worth about twelve thouſand pounds,
incluſive of the ſpecific legacies menti-
oned in his will, and which may be com-
puted at the ſum of twelve hundred
pounds; ſo that the remainder, near ele-
ven thouſand pounds, is entirely applica-
ble to the hoſpital for idiots and lunatics :
a charitable foundation, particularly be-
neficial in theſe kingdoms, where the
epidemic diſtemper of lunacy is ſo pre-
valent, that it will conſtantly furniſh the
largeſt building with a ſufficient number
of inhabitants.
Lunacy may in general be conſidered
as ariſing from a depraved imagination,
and muſt therefore be originally owing to
a fault in the body, or the mind. We fee
inſtances every day, where in fevers, all
the powers of ſenſe and reaſon are utterly
overturned by a raging madneſs ; this
frenzy
268 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
LOCKE,
frenzy conquers, or is conquered ſoon :
but from more flow and chronical
cauſes, ſuch obſtructions may be form-
ed, as gradually to produce various de-
grees of this diſorder, and to remain in-
vincible to the very laſt moments of life.
Nothing more ſtrongly diſpoſes the mind
to this depraved ſtate than too fixed an
attention to any particular object. Mr.
if
my memory does not deceive
me, defines madneſs as ariſing from ſome
particular idea, or ſet of ideas, that
make ſo ſtrong an impreſſion upon the
mind as to baniſh all others : and the
perſons affected are chearful, or melan-
choly, well-tempered, or fierce, accord-
ing as the objects and ideas of their
minds are different. From hence it is
evident, that we ought to conſider the
ſtrength of the mind even in the purſuit
of knowledge, and often to vary our
ideas by exerciſe and amuſements; con-
ſtantly fixing a ſtrict guard againſt any
paſſion, that may be prevalent in too
high
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 269
high a degree, or may acquire an ha-
bitual ſtrength and dominion over us.
Paſſions are the gales of life, and it
is our part to take care, that they do
not riſe into a tempeſt.
Love, with all its charms, muſt be
reſtrained within proper bounds, other-
wiſe it will torture that breaſt which it
was formed to delight. Love contains
within itſelf a variety of other paſſions,
and lays ſuch a foundation of madneſs
in the mind, that the frenzy, in this
particular cafe, never fails to appear in
its full force, and to diſplay itſelf in all
its ſtrength of horror.
Religion, which can only make the
mind happy, and is our ſureſt and beſt
defence againſt the paſſions, if conſider-
ed in a wrong and melancholy view, has
often perverted the ſeat of reaſon, and
given more inhabitants to Bedlam than
any other cauſe. A religious lunatic is
miſerable, even to the deepeſt tortures
of deſpair.
The
270
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
- The miſer, whom I muſt always rank
among madmen, heaps up gold with an
anxiety that affects his looks, his appe-
tite, and his ſleep. The wretch dreads
poverty in the center of plenty; and
ftarves, only becauſe he dares not taſte
thofe fruits which appear moſt agreeable
to his deſires.
In ſome other ſpecies of madneſs, the
perſons affected are really more happy
than in their ſenſes, and it is almoſt a
crime to baniſh the agreeable delufion.
You remember the caſe of the citizen of
Argos, who, after a falutiferous doſe of
hellebore, cried out,
Pol me occidiftis, amici,
Non fervaſtis (ait) cui fic extorta voluptas,
Et demptus per vim mentis gratiffimus error.
Such again would be the caſe of the
beau of: Bedlam, who, amidſt darkneſs
and confinement, ſtill retains his pride
and ſelf-admiration : dreſſes himſelf up
in
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 271
in ſtraw inſtead of embroidery, and when
ſuffered to go to the window, imagines
that he captivates every female, who
chances to paſs through Moor-fields. Is
not ſuch a man happier in his madneſs,
than in his ſenſes ?
To ſpecify the many different claſſes
of madmen would be endleſs. They are
innumerable: ſo that it is almoſt a rare
felicity to enjoy mens ſana in corpore ſano.
Some men have owed their reputation
and ſucceſs in the world to a tincture of
madneſs, while others, merely from a
fuperior underſtanding, have been ranked
among lunatics : of the latter fort Hip-
POCRATES (whom I wiſh you to look
upon as a claſſic author, as well as a
phyſician) gives a remarkable inſtance
in one of his letters. He ſays, he was
ſent for by the people of Abdera to cure
Democritus of madneſs, but, to his
ſurpriſe, he found him the wiſeſt man
of the age, and, by his laughing man-
ner of talking and reaſoning, he almoſt
con-
.
,
272
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
convinced HIPPOCRATES, that all the
reſt of the world, except DEMOCRITUS,
were mad.
It is not improbable, that
madneſs has been coæval with mankind.
There have certainly been many inſtances
of it among the Greeks and Romans :
among the Jews, the enthuſiaſtic fury
of Saul is equally remarkable with the
extatick rage of NEBUCHADNEZZAR: nor
have any parts of the world, I believe,
entirely eſcaped this raging evil. It was
frequently miſtaken for inſpiration, and
the prophetic Sybils were obliged to put
on the airs and looks of madneſs, to
obtain an implicit belief to their prophe-
cies. From theſe facerdotal impoſitions,
mad people reaped ſome remarkable ad-
vantages. They were often looked
upon
as meſſengers fent by heaven, to declare
the will of the gods, and the prophetical
decrees of fate : they were revered as
perſons facred and divine; and, inſtead
of ſcourges, they received tokens of ado-
ration, . In how great a degree muſt the
ſub-
1
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 273
ſubtilty of prieſts have prevailed, when
they could make one of the greateſt curſes
that attends human life, appear one of
the greateſt bleſſings ?
Lunatics are ſo called from the influe
ence which the moon has over bodies,
when its attractive power is greateſt, by
which means the preſſure of the atmo-
ſphere being leſſened, the humours of
the body are more rarefied, and produce
a greater plenitude in the veſſels of the
brain. This has been illuſtrated by our
good and learned friend Dr. MEAD, in
his treatiſe De imperio lune et ſolis; and
I have particularly obſerved, that in the
laſt book ", which he publiſhed, he takes
notice in his chapter de Infania,“ that the
“ blood of ſuch perfons, who have been
" moſt liable to this malady, was thick
" and fizy, and upon diſſection, their
“ brain always appeared dry; and their.
“ veſſels filled with black ſluggiſh blood:”
from whence, perhaps, we may, in ſome
Entitled, Monita & præcepta medica.
T
meaſure,
274
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
meaſure, account for the principal ſource
of Swift's lunacy: his countenance be-
ing dark, bilious, and gloomy, and his
eyes ſometimes fixed, and immoveable
for a long time. HORACE, I remember,
attributes the madneſs of ORESTES to a
phyſical cauſe, where he ſays,
vocando
Hanc furtam, bunc aliud, juffit quod ſplendida bilis.
So that diſeaſes, formed originally in
the mind, often bring on this diſorder,
and by degrees affect the body; eſpecially
in ſuch conſtitutions as have any ten-
dency to this diſtemper. But, what can
be the reaſon, that it is ſo remarkably
cpidemical in theſe kingdoms ? I am in-
clined to believe, that it muſt be owing to
the groſſneſs of our food, and to our im-
moderate uſe of fpirituous liquors: the one
frequently cauſing the deepeſt melancholy,
the other the moſt unlimited rage. Our
climate is fo variable and uncertain; and
our
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 275
our atmoſphere is ſo perpetually filled
with douds and ſulphureous vapours,
that theſe cauſes muſt neceſſarily have a
great effect upon the natural impatience
and inconſtancy of the inhabitants. We
are apt to revel in a free indulgence of
our paſſions; and they are as apt to agi-
tate and enervate the fibres of the brain,
and to imprint by degrees many fatal
impreſſions, that can never be eradicated
from the mind. Even the greateſt bleſſ-
ing we enjoy, the freedom of our laws,
may,
I am afraid, in ſome meaſure, con-
tribute to thoſe raſh actions, that often
end in dreadful murders of the worſt
kind, parricide, and ſuiciſm. Men muſt
be reckoned in the higheſt claſs of luna-
tics, who are capable of offending the
great Author of nature, by depriving
themſelves of that life, which he only
has a right of taking away, becauſe he
only had the power of giving it. No
perſon in his ſenſes can voluntarily pre-
fer death to life. Our deſires of exift-
T 2
ence
276 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ence are ſtrong and prevalent. They are
born with us; and our ideas of a future
ftate are not ſufficiently clear, to make
us fond of hurrying into eternity;
eſpecially as eternity itſelf muſt ever
remain incomprehenſible to finite be-
ings. Human nature has an abhor-
rence, and a terror of its own diffolu-
tion. The philofopher ſubmits to death,
becauſe he looks upon it as a neceſſary
event: in the mean time, he uſes every
method of prudence, and every art of
caution, to lengthen out life as far as he
poſſibly can extend it, and to prevent the
leaſt accident that may bring on death
one hour fooner than the laws of the hu-
mán ſtructure require. The military
hero meets the king of terrors more from
the dictates of reaſon, than the impulſes
of nature. His fame, his fortune, every
object that can be dear to him, depend
upon his reſolution to die. He expoſes
himſelf to the danger of being deſtroyed,
becauſe, an effort of ſecuring his life,
muſt
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 277
muſt be attended with contempt and in-
famy. But, on the other hand, who
would wantonly chuſe death, unleſs he
were agitated to ſuch a choice by the
fumes and vapours of a diſtempered
brain?
The ſubjects, where arbitrary power
is eſtabliſhed, live in a continual ſtate of
dread and apprehenſion, and all their
other paſſions are ſubdued by fear : ſo
that fewer inſtances of ſuicide have ap-
peared in deſpotic governments, than in
kingdoms, where liberty is more pre-
valent, and where the paſſions are leſs
reſtrained.
The diet, the air, and the political
conſtitution of a country, give the pe-
culiar, and diſtinguiſhing character of
the people: and as the characteriſtics
change, the inhabitants undergo the
fame metamorphoſes. How different are
the modern Italians from the antient Row
mans ? If Brutus were now living, he
would
I 3
208 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
would probably acquieſce in the depend-
ing ſtate of a cardinal, and the papal
crown would be unanimouſly preſented
to CÆSAR.
The melancholy caſe of Dr. Swift
has, I find, ſeduced me into a long di-
greſſion; when I am writing to you, my
Ham, I give a full ſcope to my thoughts,
and wander licentiouſly out of my ſphere,
I aim at placing all obſervations in your
way, which I think can be of any uſe in
your future road of life. But, why talk
to you on the melancholy effects of mad-
neſs? only, my dear ſon, to obſerve in
general, that temperance, exerciſe, phi-
foſophy, and true religion are the ſureſt
means to make men happy, and to pre-
ferve them from a contagious malady,
to which the inhabitants of theſe king-
doms are unfortunately liable,
A ſtate of idiotiſm is leſs deplorable,
not leſs ſhocking, than that of madneſs,
Idiots are afflicted with no turbulent
paſſions :
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 279
paſſions: they are innocent and harm-
leſs, and often excite pity, but never oc-
caſion fear. The proverb tells us, They
are the favourites of fortune : but I ſuppoſe
it alludes only to thoſe fools, who can
number twenty rightly, and can tell the days
of the week; and alas ! thoſe are no idi-
ots in the eye of the law. The abſolute
naturals owe their wretchedneſs to a
wrong formation in their brain, or to
accidents in their birth, or the dregs
of fevers, and other violent diſtempers.
The laſt was the caſe of the Dean of St.
PATRICK's, according to the account
ſent me by his two relations Mrs. White-
WAY, . and Mr. SWIFT :: neither of
whom, I think, make the leaſt mention
of a deafneſs, that from time to time
attacked the Dean, and rendered him
extremely miſerable. You will find him
complaining of this misfortune in ſeveral
parts of his writings, eſpecially in his
letters (of the eighth volume) to Dr.
• See page 139, and page 142.
4
SHERI-
T4
280
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
SHERIDAN 2. Pofſibly ſome internal pref-
ſure upon his brain might firſt have af-
fected the auditory nerves, and then, by
degrees, might have encreaſed, ſo as
entirely to ſtop up that fountain of
ideas, which had before ſpread itſelf
in the moſt diffuſive, and ſurprizing
manner. .
Having juſt now hinted to you the
advantages that have accrued to mad-
men, I ought not to omit the honours
that have been paid to fools. In former
ages the courts of France and England
were not thought compleatly embelliſhed
without a favourite idiot, who bore the
title of the King's Jeſter, and who was
as remarkably diſtinguiſhed by a cap and
bells, as his royal maſter was diſtinguiſh-
ed by a diadem and robes. This animal;
like Junius Brutus, frequently aſſumed
the face and behaviour of folly, to an-
fwer his own particular views and ad.
vantages. His bluntneſs and ſimplicity
• Sre Vol. VIII. page 419,
recom-
,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 281
recommended him in thoſe places, where
truths, if ſpoken by a man of ſenſe, were
diſagreeable and dangerous. If he had
not the honour, like BRUTUS, to ſave
his country, at leaſt he had the happineſs
to ſecure himſelf : and his expreſſions
were often fo full of humour and far-
caſm, that, to this day, they are re-
corded as pieces of wit. Such was the
famous reply of Archy to King JAMES
the firſt, when his Majeſty, amidſt all
his wiſdom, was ſufficiently inſpired
with folly, to ſend his only ſon into
Spain. But, fools at preſent are no
longer admired in courts, or, if they
are, they appear there without their
cap and bells.
And now, my dear HAMILTON, to
quit reflexions, that tend in general
rather to terrify, than to improve your
underſtanding, let me obſerve, in ho-
nour of my friend Swift, that his
eſtabliſhment of an hoſpital for idiots
and lunatics, is reniarkably generous :
as
282 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
as the unhappy perſons, who receive
the benefit, muſt, for ever, remain in-
ſenſible of their benefactor.
I am your affectionate Father,
ORRERY.
L E T T E R XXII.
to it.
THE Directions to Servants, which
is the tract immediately following
Swift's Will, is imperfect and unfiniſh-
ed. The editor tells us, that a preface
and a dedication were to have been added
I think it was not publiſhed till
after the Dean's death ; but I remember
the manuſcript handed about, and much
applauded in his life time. To ſay the
moſt that can be offered in its favour,
the tract is written in fo facetious a kind
of low humour, that it muſt pleaſe ma-
ny
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 283
ny readers : nor is it without ſome de-
gree of merit, by pointing out with an
amazing exactneſs (and what in a leſs
trivial caſe muſt have been called judge-
ment) the faults, blunders, tricks, lyes,
and various knaveries of domeſtic fer-
vants. How much time muſt have been
employed in putting together ſuch a
work? What an intenſeneſs of thought
muſt have been beſtowed upon the low-
eſt, and moſt ſlaviſh ſcenes of life? It is
one of thoſe compoſitions, that the ut-
moſt ſtrength of wit can ſcarce fuſtain
from ſinking. A man of Swift's ex-
alted genius ought conſtantly to have
ſoared into higher regions. He ought
to have looked upon perſons of inferior
abilities as children whom nature had
appointed him to inſtruct, encourage, and
improve. Superior talents ſeem to have
been intended by Providence as public
benefits, and the perſon, who poſſeſſes
fuch bleſſings, is certainly anſwerable to
heaven for thoſe endowments, which he
enjoys
1284
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
enjoys above the reſt of mankind. Let
him jeſt with dignity, and let him be
ironical upon uſeful ſubjects : leaving
poor
Naves to beat their porridge, or drink
their ſmall beer in ſuch veſſels as they ſhall
find proper?. The Dean, it ſeems, had
not this way of thinking: and having
long indulged his paſſions, at laſt per-
haps miſtook them for his duty. The
miſtake, my dear HAMILTON, is nei-
ther extraordinary nor ſurpriſing. In
points of religion it has carried men into
great extravagancies; in thoſe of mora-
lity, into no leſs; but in politics, into
the greateſt of all. Our inclinations are
ſo apt to hurry us into inconſiderate ac-
tions, that we are afterwards inclined to
flatter ourſelves they are right, only be-
cauſe they have proceeded from our own
thoughts and directions. Thus Swift,
when he had once eſtabliſhed the rule of
Vive la bagatelle, wąs reſolved to purſue
it at all hazards. I wiſh his thoughts
. See Vol. VIII. page 8.
had
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 285
had taken another turn. The lower
claſſes of mankind, paſs on unnoticed,
the great, only are cenſured. They ought
to be particularly attentive to every ſtep
they take. The Dean of St. PATRICK'S
ſhould have known himſelf, as Rex idem
bominum Phæbique facerdos, and ſhould
have remembered, that kings and prieſts
are extremely liable to be cenſured. Poor
Swift! why did he link below himſelf
before he was deprived of reaſon? For-
give him that error, my HAMILTON,
and draw a veil of oblivion over certain
excrefcencies of wit and humour, you
will then admire him, as an honour to
the public, and a ſcourge to all the
knaves and fools of his time.
Three pamphlets, relating to Ireland,
ſucceſſively follow the Direction to fer-
vants. The firſt is entitled, Reaſons bumbly
offered to the Parliament of Ireland, for re-
pealing the Sacramental Teft in favour of the
Catholics: The ſecond, Some Reafons againſt
the Bill for ſettling the Tythe of Hemp, Flax,
&c.
286
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
&c. by a Modus : The third, Some farther
Reaſons againſt the bill for ſettling the Tythe of
Hemp, Flax, &c.The ſubject matter of theſe
pamphlets may perhaps tie little worth
your conſideration, but their ſtyle will
always command your attention. They
are very much miſplaced, and, in any
more methodical edition of the Dean's
works, ought to appear with ſuch other
pieces as have been compoſed by him
againſt the diſſenters. The firſt tract is
written under the aſſumed character of a
Roman catholic, by which means the
author attacks his adverſaries with a
great advantage. He freely acknow-
ledges the ſeveral atrocious crimes of
the papiſts, but at the ſame time palliates
them ſo ſkilfully, that, from that
very
acknowledgment, he enables himſelf to
aim the heavier blows at the preſbyte-
rians. A paragraph extracted from the
pamphlet will exemplify my meaning.
“ We allow, ſays he, the CATHOLICS to
" be BRETHREN of the Diſenters į ſome
people,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 287
FELLOW PROTESTANTS,
“.people, indeed, (which we cannot allow)
a would have them to be our children, be-
“ cauſe we both diſſent from the church efta-
“bliſhed, and both agree in aboliſhing this
perſecuting facramental teft; by which
NEGATIVE DISCOURAGEMENT we are
« both rendered incapable of civil and mili-
tary employments. However, we cannot
« but wonder, at the bold familiarity of theſe
Schifmatics, in calling the members of the
u national church their BRETHREN and
It is true,
that all theſe feets (except the CATHO-
" LICs) are BRETHREN to each other in
faction, ignorance, iniquity, perverſerefs,
“ pride, and (if we except the QUAKERS)
« in rebellion. But, how the churchmen can
« be ſtyled their FELLOW PROTESTANTS,
we cannot comprehend. Becauſe, when
" the whole BABEL of feetaries joined againſt
" the Church, the King, and the Nobility
for twenty years, in a MATCH AT
“ FOOT BALL ; where the proverb exprefly
" tells us, that ALL ARE FELLOWS; whik
“ the three kingdoms were toſſed to and fro,
" the churches and cities, and royal palaces
Shattered to pieces by their Balls, their
BUFFETS, and their KICKS; the victors
"I would
288
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
66
“ would allow no more FELLOWS AT FOOT
BALL: but murdered, fequeftered, plun-
dered, deprived, baniſhed to the plantati.
ons, or enſlaved all their oppoſers wbo bad
LOST THE GAME. The greateſt art,
and the keeneſt ſtrokes of irony diſplay
themſelves throughout the whole com-
poſition: and the concluſion of it is
drawn up with a mixture of ſerious and
ironical arguments that ſeem to defy all
kinds of refutation.
The two next pamphlets for ſettling the
Tythe of Hemp, &c. by a Modus are entirely
adapted to the clergy of Ireland, but I can-
not avoid obſerving in thoſe papers, a
greater fund of calmneſs, not a leſs de-
gree of ſpirit, than in many other of
Swift's political writings.
The remainder of this volume is like
a garden over-run with docks, and thif-
tles, among which ſome roſe-trees acci-
dentally make their appearance. The
ſcythe of time, or the weeding knife of
a judicious editor, will cut down the
docks and thiſtles, but the beauty of the
roſes
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 289
roſes, will particularly appear in ſome
fermons that are curious ; and curious
for ſuch reaſons, as would make other
works" defpicable. They were written
in a careleſs, hurrying manner, and
were the offspring of neceſſity, not of
choice : ſo that you will ſee the original
force of his genius more in theſe compo-
ſitions, that were the legitimate ſons of
duty, than in other pieces that were the
natural ſons of love. They were held in ſuch
low eſteem in his own thoughts, that ſome
years before he died, he gave away the
whole collection to Dr. SHERIDAN,with the
utmoſt indifference: “ Here, ſays he, are
a bundle of my old fermons; you may bave
“ them if you pleaſe : they may be of uſe to
you, they have never been of any to me.
The parcel given to Dr. Sheridan con-
fifted, as I have heard, of about five and
thirty ſermons. Three or four only are
publiſhed ; and thoſe I have read over
with attention. The firſt is
upon
Mutual
Subjection, and that duty which is owing
V
from
790
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
from one man to another. A clearer
ſtyle, or a diſcourfe more properly adapt-
ed to a public audience, can ſcarce be
framed. Every paragraph is ſimple, fer-
vous, and intelligible. The threads of
each
argument are cloſely connected, and
logically purſued: but in places where
the Dean has the leaſt opportunity to in-
troduce political maxims, or to dart an
arrow at the conduct of princes, he ne-
ver fails to indulge himſelf in his uſual
manner of thinking, as you will judge
from the following quotations, “ A wiſe
man, ſays Dr. SWIFT, who doth not af-
Sift with his counfels; a great man with
" his protection; a rich man with his bounty
“ and charity; and a poor man with his la-
« bour; are perfe&t nuſances in a common-
“ wealth. Neither is any condition of life more
« honourable in the fight of God than an-
« other ; otherwiſe be would be a reſpecter
of perſons, which be aſſureth us be is not :
" For he batb propoſed the ſame falvation to
“ all men, and bath only placed them in dif-
ferent ways or ſtations to work it out.
" Princes are born with no more advantages
of
I
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 291
of ſtrength or wiſdom than other men ;
" and, by an unhappy education, are uſually
more defective in both than thouſands of
" their ſubjects a.” Again, in the ſame
ſtrain, “ The beſt prince is, in the opinion
of wiſe men, only the greateſt ſervant of
" the nation; not only a ſervant to the pub-
“ lic in general, but in ſome ſort to every
5. man in it b." But the moſt extraordi-
nary paſſage is a covert ſtroke at the high-
eſt order of his brethren the clergy. It runs
thus, “ The miſeries of life are not properly
owing to the unequal diſtribution of things;
" but God Almighty, the great King of hea-
ven, is treated like the kings of the earth;
who, (although perhaps intending well
themſelves,) have often moſt abominable
miniſters and ſtewards, and thoſe generally
" the vileft, to whom they entruſt the moſt
as talents c Dark as it is, this paragraph
requires no explanation. The author's
natural turn of mind breaks forth upon
all occaſions, and the politician frequent-
ly outweighs the divine.
If the dictates
of ſuch a ſpirit were capable of forcing
their way from the pulpit, what a glori-
Page 211. Page 215.
Page 218.
1
U 2
ous,
292
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
upon ſuch
ous, what a conſiſtent figure, muft
SWIFT have made in the roſtrum at
Rome, or in one of the porticos at
Athens ?
The next moral eſſay, for I can ſcarce
call it a ſermon, is upon the Teſtimony of
Conſcience : in which the author inſerts
ſome very ſtriking obſervations
falſe notions of honour as are too pre-
valent in the world. I am ſo far from
thinking it a trouble, that I think it a
pleaſure to tranſcribe the particular pal-
ſage : “ The falſe principle, which ſome men
ſet up in the place of conſcience to be their
“ director in life, is what thoſe who pretend
to it, call HONOUR.
This word is often
" made the fanction of an oath; it is reck-
" oned a great commendation to be a man of
ftrit honour ; and it is commonly under-
" ſtood, that a man of honour can never be.
guilty of a baſe action,
This is uſually
" the ſtyle of military men; of perſons with
titles; and of others who pretend to birth
" and quality. It is true indeed, that in
antient times it was univerſally underſtood,
« that honour was the reward of virtue ;
" but
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 293
" but if ſuch honour as is now-a-days going
" will not permit a man to do a baſe action,
" it muſt be allowed, there are very few ſuch
things as baſe actions in nature. No man
of honour, as that word is uſually under-
ſtood, did ever pretend, that his honour
obliged him to be chaſte or temperate; to
pay his creditors; to be uſeful to his coun-
try; to do good to mankind; to endeavour
" to be wiſe or learned; to regard his word,
“ his promiſe, or his oath ; or if he hath
any of theſe virtues, they were never
" learned in the catechiſm of honour ; which
“ contains but two precepts, the punctual
payment of debts contracted at play, and
" the right underſtanding the ſeveral degrees
of an affront, in order to revenge it by the
« death of an adverſary
The third diſcourſe ypon The Trinity is
indeed a fermon, and one of the beſt in
its kind. Dr. SWIFT ſeems not to have
made ſuch a plan his voluntary choice,
nor to have built, fuo ex motu, upon ſuch
a baſis , but he has compleated the ſu-
· Page 228.
In the beginning of his ſermon, he lets us know,
that he preached it on Trinity Sunday, a day on which
all the clergy think themſelves confined to this theme.
perſtructure
a 9)
U
13
294
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
may aſſume
perſtructure in a moſt maſterly manner :
the materials anſwer the dignity of the
edifice, and the artificer
aſſume great
honour, upon the completion of fo no-
ble, ſo ſimple, and ſo uſeful a pile. The
myſterious parts of our religion, are
apt to have dreadful effects upon weak
minds. The general comments upon
the facred writings, and the ſeveral fer-
mons upon the moſt abſtruſe points of
ſcripture are too often compoſed in the
gloomy ſtyle. Damnation, eternal dam-
nation, is placed with all its horror be-
fore our eyes; and we are ſo terrified
at the proſpect, that fear makes us ima-
gine, we can comprehend myſteries,
which, on this ſide of the grave, muſt
be for ever denied to our limited un-
derſtandings. Swift has taken the
ſafeſt, and the propereſt method of ex-
pounding theſe arcana. He advances
every poſition that can be eſtabliſhed
upon ſo incomprehenſible a ſubject. He
ſuſtains the belief, avows the doctrine,
and
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 295
and adapts the matter of faith as well as
poſſible to the human capacity. His
manner of reaſoning is maſterly, and
his arguments are nervous, particularly
where he ſays, " It is bighly probable,
" that if God Mould pleaſe to reveal unto
us this great myſtery of the Trinity, or
fome other myſteries in our holy religion,
we faculd not be able to underſtand them,
unleſs he would at the ſame time
“ think fit to beſtow on us fome new
powers or faculties of the mind, which
we want at preſent, and are reſerved
“ till the day of reſurrection to life
" eternal a." But, my HAM, you muſt
be weary of quotations. I will make
no more: and in excuſe of thoſe al-
ready made, I can only offer, that
in comments upon original authors,
quotations are often the beſt, and
perhaps the only explanations that
can fully anſwer the end propoſed. I
mean that the original ſpirit is ſo vola-
Page 246
tile,
U4
296 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
1
tile, as not to admit of the leaſt tranf.
fuſion. In ordinary compoſitions, the
effence
may
be extracted, and the ſub-
tileſt parts diſtilled : But Swift's ſer-
mons, appeared a chymical preparation
of ſo extraordinary, and penetrating a
nature, that I was reſolved to ſend you
as much of the æthereal ſpirit, as might
be ſafely conveyed by the poſt.
I ſhall take no notice of a fourth
fermon, as it is evidently not compoſed
by the Dean *: but I find, that I have
omitted to mention two poems of great
wit and humour. They are previous to
the fermons. The firſt was artfully
publiſhed by Dr. Swift in a manner fo
different from thoſe rules of poetry to
which he confined himſelf, that he hoped
the public might miſtake it for a ſpuri-
ous, or uncorrect copy ſtolen by me-
mory from his original poem. He took
great pleaſure in this ſuppoſition: and
• The difficulty of knowing one's ſelf, p. 255.
The Life and Genuine Character of the Reverend
Dr. SWIFT.
I be-
b
!
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 297
" A
I believe it anſwered his expectation.
One of his ſtricteſt rules in poetry was
to avoid triplets. What can have given
riſe to ſo nice a peculiarity is difficult to
determine. It might be owing only to
a ſingular turn of thinking; but the
reaſon which he publicly aſſigned ſeemed
not ſo much againſt the practice itſelf,
as againſt the poets who indulged them-
ſelves in that manner of writing
“ cuſtom (according to the Dean's opi-
nion) « introduced by lazineſs, conti-
“ nued by ignorance, and eſtabliſhed
by falſe taſte.” With deference to
ſo great a critic, it is a cuſtom, that
has frequently been purſued with re-
markable ſucceſs. Mr. DRYDEN abounds
in triplets; and in ſome of his moſt
elegant poems, the third concluding
verfe forms the fineſt climax in the whole
piece. Mr. WALLER, the father of all
flowing poetry, has generally reſerved
the niceſt point of wit to his triplicate
line : and upon an impartial enquiry, it
is almoſt to be queſtioned, whether, in
many
298 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
many inſtances, this deſpicable triplet
may not add a greater beauty to a poeti-
cal compoſition, than any other circum-
ſtance. To be confined, on any terms,
by the links of rhyme, is of great diſad-
vantage to our Engliſh poetry. The fineſt
poem that we can boaſt, and which we
equalize, and perhaps would willingly
prefer to the Iliad, is void of thoſe fet-
ters. But, when it is our deſtiny to wear
chains, ſurely we may be allowed to
make them as light, and eaſy as we can.
The ſecond poem , entitled, Verſes on
the Death of Dr. Swift, occafioned by
reading a Maxim in RocheFOUCAULT, is
a moſt pointed piece of ſarcaſm. Not
any of the Dean's poems have more wit;
nor are any of them more fevere. In it
he has ſummoned together his whole
powers of ſatyr and poetry. It is a part-
ing blow; the legacy of anger and
diſappointment; but as the two laſt
lines are grammatically incorrect, and
- Page 151
That kingdom he hath left his debtor,
I wif it ſoon may bave a better,
as
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 299
as they were not inſerted in the firſt edia
tion publiſhed at London, I cannot tell
how they have crept into a poem, that is
otherwiſe as exactly poliſhed as any of
Swift's niceſt compoſitions.
The remaining pieces in this volume
are neither worthy of Swift's pen, nor
of
your peruſal. Many of them are ſpu-
rious, and many more are trifling, and
in every reſpect improper for the pub-
lic view : ſo that what was once ludi.
crouſly faid upon a different occaſion,
may be applied not only to the laſt vo-
lume, but indeed to ſome of the for-
mer, as they put us in mind of the
so famous machine in WINSTANLEY'S
" water works, where, out of the
“ fame veſſel, the ſpectators were pre-
s fented with tea, coffee, chocolate,
$6
« champaigne, and four ſmall beer."
I am, my dear Son,
Your truly affectionate Father,
ORRERY,
L ET-
1
300 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
L E T TER XXIII.
W
E have now gone through FAULK-
NER's edition of Swift's works,
but there are ſtill remaining three of his
pieces, The Tale of a Tub, The Battle of
the Books in St. James's Library, and The
Fragment, which although not abſolutely
owned by the Dean, aut Eraſmi funt aut
Diaboli.
The firſt of theſe, The Tale of a Tub,
has made much noiſe in the world. It
was one of Swift's earlieſt performances,
and has never been excelled in wit and
fpirit by his own, or any other pen.
The
cenſures that have paſſed upon it, are va-
rious. The moſt material of which were
ſuch as reflected upon Dr. Swift, in
the character of a clergyman, and a
Chriſtian. It has been one of the miſ-
fortunes attending Chriſtianity, that ma-
ny of her ſons, from a miſtaken filial
piety,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 301
piety, have indulged themſelves in too
reſtrained, and too melancholy a way of
thinking. Can we wonder then, if a
book compoſed with all the force of wit
and humour in deriſion of facerdotal ty-
ranny, in ridicule of grave hypocriſy,
and in contempt of flegmatic ſtiffneſs,
ſhould be wilfully miſconſtrued by ſome
perſons, and ignorantly miſtaken by
others, as a ſarcaſm and reflexion upon
the whole Chriſtian Church? Swift's
ungovernable ſpirit of irony, has ſome-
times carried him into very unwarrant-
able flights of wit. I have remarked
ſuch paſſages with a moſt unwilling eye.
But, let my affections of friendſhip have
been ever ſo great, my paternal affection
is ſtill greater : and I will purſue can-
dour, even with an aching heart, when
the purſuit of it may tend to your ad-
vantage or inſtruction.
In the ſtyle of
truth therefore, I muſt ſtill look upon
The Tale of a Tub, as no intended inſult
againſt Chriſtianity, but as a fatyr againſt
the
302
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
the wild errors of the church of Rome,
the flow and incompleat reformation of
the Lutherans, and the abfurd, and af-
fected zeal of the preſbyterians. In the
character of PETER, we ſee the pope,
feated on his pontifical throne, and
adorned with his triple crown. In the
picture of Martin, we view LUTHER
and the firſt reformers : and in the re-
preſentation of JACK, we behold John
Calvin and his diſciples. The author's
arrows are chiefly directed againſt PE-
TER, and JACK. To MARTIN, he
Thews all the indulgence that the laws of
allegory will permit.
The actions of PETER are the actions
of a man intoxicated with pride, power,
rage, tyranny, and ſelf-conceit. Theſe
pafſions are placed in the moſt ridicu-
lous light : and the effects of them
duce to us the tenets and doctrines of
papal Rome, ſuch as purgatory, penance,
images, indulgences, auricular confeffi-
on, tranfubftantiation, and thoſe dread-
ful
pro.
+
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 303
ful monſters, the pontifical bulls, which,
according to this ludicrous author, de
rived their original from the famous
bulls of CHOLcos, deſcribed by OVID.
Terribiles vultus, præfixaque cornua ferro;
Pulvereumque folum pede pulſavere biſulco ;
Fumificiſque locum mugitibus implevere".
LEAD.
" But LORD PETER'S BULLS, ſays The
Tale of a Tub, “ were extremely vitiated by
“ time in the metal of their feet, which from
“ BRASS was now degenerated into common
However the terrible roaring pen
« culiar to their lineage was preſerved, as
likewiſe that faculty of BREATHING out
fire at their noftrils.” Thefe paſſages,
and many others, no doubt, muſt be
conſtrued as antichriſtian, by the church
of Rome. When the chief minifter and
his minions are expofed, the keener the
fatyr, the more liable is it to be inter-
preted into high treaſon againft the King.
a Ovid Metam. Lib. VII. y. 112.
In
304
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
In the character of Jack a ſet of peo-
ple were alarmed, who are eaſily offend-
ed, and who can ſcarce bear the chear-
fulneſs of a ſmile. In their dictionary,
wit is only another name for wickedneſs:
and the purer, or more excellent the wit,
the greater, and more impious the abo-
mination. However wide therefore the
difference of Peter and Jack might
have been in faſhioning their coats, the
two brothers moſt fincerely agreed in
their hatred of an adverſary ſo powerful
as this anonymous author. They ſpared
no unmannerly reflexions upon his cha-
racter. They had recourſe to every kind
of abuſe that could reach him. And
ſometimes, it was the work of Swift
and his companions : fometimes not a
fyllable of it was his work, it was the
work of one of his uncle's fons, a clergy-
man: and ſometimes it was the work of
a perſon, who was to be nameleſs. Each
of theſe malicious conjectures reigned in
its turn, and you will find, my HAMIL-
TON,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 305
TON, that bold affertions, however falſe,
almoſt conſtantly meet with ſucceſs; à
kind of triumph that would appear one
of the fevereſt inſtitutes of fate, if time,
and truth, did not foon obliterate all
marks of the victory.
The critiſms of the Martiniſts, (whom
we may ſuppoſe the members of the
church of England) were, it is to be
hoped, more candid : for MARTIN, as
I have juſt now hinted, is treated with a
much leſs degree of ſarcaſm than the
other two brothers. What relates to
him, is ſo ſhort, that I will venture to
tranſcribe it. They both (Luther and
CALVIN] unanimouſly entered upon this
great work [THE REFORMATION]
looking fometimes on their coats, and ſome-
"times on the WILL. MARTIN laid the
firſt hand; at one twitch brought off a
large handful of POINTS; and with
a ſecond pull, ſtript away ten dozen
yards of FRINGE. But when he bad
gone thus far, be demurred a while: be
" knew very well, tbere yet remained a
X
is great
306.
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
great deal more to be done : however, the
firft beat being over, his violence began to
“ cool, and be reſolved to proceed. more mo-
derately in the reſt of the work; having
already very narrowly ſcaped a ſwinging
“ rent in pulling off the POINTS, which be-
ing TAGGED WITH SILVER (as we have
" obſerved before) the judicious: workman
had, with much fagacity, double fawon to
preſerve them from PALLING. Reſolv-
ing therefore to rid bis coat of a huge
quantity of GOLD LACE, be picked up
" the ſtitches with much caution, and dili-
gently gleaned out all the looſe threads as
« be went, which proved to be a work of
“ time. Then be fell about the embroidered
“ INDIAN figures of men, women and chil..
“ dren; againſt which as you have beard
" in its due place, their father's teſtament
was extremely exact and ſevere. Theſe,
« with much dexterity and application, were,
after a while, quite eradicated, or ut-
" terly defaced. For the reſt, where he ob-
ferved the embroidery to be worked ſo cloſe,
as not to be got away, without damaging,
the cloth, or where it ſerved to hide or
ſtrengthen any flaw in the body of the coat,
« contracted by the perpetual tampering of
«
workmen
AND WRITINGS OF DR.SWIFT. 1907
WILL
to workmen upon its be concluded, the wiſeft
courſe was to let it remain, reſolving in
no cafe whatſoever, that the ſubſtance of
" the ſtuff mould ſuffer injury, which be
thought the beſt method for ſerving the
“ true intent and meaning of his father's
And this is the neareſt account I
" bave been able to colleet of MARTIN'S
proceedings upon this great revolution.”
The church of England can ſcarce be
angry at ſuch a favourable account of
LUTHER : eſpecially as we have ſince re-
formed from LUTHER himſelf, and ſo
far, as our judgements can teach us, have
reſtored our babits ſtill nearer to the ori-
ginal faſhion, which they bore at the
perfection of the Teftament. The beſt,
and what is more extraordinary, the
moſt ſerious apology, that can be made
for the author was written by himſelf,
and is dated June 3, 1709, from which
time, it has been conſtantly printed in
a préfatory manner to the work itſelf.
In this apology, Dr. Swift candidly ac-
knowledges, that
that
There are ſeveral
X 2
Jouth.
308
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
<<
youthful fallies, which, from the grave
“ and the wife, may deſerve a rebuke.” And
farther adds, that “ He will forfeit bis
life, if any one opinion can fairly be de-
“ duced from the book, wbich is contrary to
religion or morality.”
The dedication to Prince Poſterity will
pleaſe you : nor will you be leſs enter-
tained by the ſeveral digreſſions which are
written in ridicule of bad critics, dull
commentators, and the whole fraternity
of Grub-ſtreet philoſophers. The Intro-
duction abounds with wit, and humour :
but the author never loſes the leaſt
op
portunity of venting his keeneft fatyr
againſt Mr. Dryden, and conſequently
loads with inſults the greateſt, although
the leaſt proſperous, of our Engliſh po-
ets. Yet who can avoid ſmiling, when
he finds the Hind and Panther mentioned
as a compleat abſtract of fixteen tboufand
ſchoolmen, and when TOMMY Pots is ſup-
poſed written by the ſame hand, as a
fupplement to the former work? I am will-
ing
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 30g
ing to imagine, that Dryden, in ſome
manner or other, had offended my friend
Dr. Swift, who, otherwiſe, I hope,
would have been more indulgent to the
errors of a man, oppreſſed by poverty,
driven on by party, and bewildered by
religion.
But although our ſatirical author, now
and then, may have indulged himſelf in
ſome perſonal animofities, or may have
taken freedoms not ſo perfectly conſiſt-
ent with that folemn decency, which is
required from a clergyman, yet through
out the whole piece, there is a vein of
ridicule and good humour, that laughs
pedantry and affectation into the loweſt
degree of contempt, and expoſes the
character of PETER and Jack in ſuch a
manner, as never will be forgiven, and
never can be anſwered.
The Battle of the Books took its riſe
from the controverſy between Sir Wil-
LIAM TEMPLE and Mr. WoOTON: :a
controverſy which made much noife,
and
X 3
310
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
and employed many pens towards the
latter end of the laſt century. This hu-
morous treatiſe is drawn up in an he-
roic comic ſtyle, in which SWIFT, with
great wit and ſpirit, gives the victory to
the former. The general plan is excel-
lent, but particular parts are defective.
The frequent chaſms puzzle and inter-
rupt the narrative; they neither convey
any latent ideas, nor point out any di-
ſtant or occult ſarcaſms. Some charac
ters are barely touched upon, which
might have been extended, others are
enlarged, which might have been con-
tracted. The name of HORACE is fcarce
inferted, and VIRGIL is introduced only
for an opportunity of comparing his
tranflator DRYDEN, to the Lady in a Lob-
fter:to a Mouſe under a Canopy of State:
and to a ſhrivelled beau within the Pentboufe
of a full bottomed Perriwig, Thefe fi-
miles carry the true ſtamp of ridicule ;
but, rancour muſt be very prevalent in
the heart of an author, who could overlook
the
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 311
the merits of DRYĐEN: many of whoſe
dedications and prefaces are as fine com-
poſitions, and as juſt pieces of criticiſm
as any in our language. The tranſlation
of VIRGIL was a work of haſte and in-
digence : DRYDEN was equal to the un-
dertaking, but unfortunate during the
conduct of it.
And now as I have mentioned Vir-
Gil, and as I indulge myſelf in an un-
limited manner of expreſſing to you my
thoughts, let me purſue that kind of
freedom by inferting a conjecture, which,
perhaps, is purely chimerical, but which,
in the purſuit of it, has given me no
ſmall degree of pleaſure, as the motive
tends to vindicate one of your favourite
poets from the cenſure of ingratitude.
The critics have been juſtly ſurprized,
that VIRGIL ſeems entirely to have neg-
lected HORACE, when it is evident, that
HORACE takes frequent occaſions of ex-
preſſing the greateſt tenderneſs, eſteem,
and gratitude for VIRGIL. They have
endea-
X4
312
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
endeavoured to account for this neglect,
by ſuppoſing, that ſome of Virgil's por
ems have been loft; otherwiſe, who
could imagine, that the author of thç
Æneid ſħould have paſſed over in ſilence
the name of ſo excellent, and ſo eſtima-
ble a friend ? In the Greek and Roman
writers it is not to be doubted, that there
are many expreſſions, which, at the time
when written, were evident marks to
diſtinguiſh particular characters. Theſe,
by the courſe of years, are now rendered
doubtful and obſcure. HORACE's Glycor
was always taken for a gladiator, till at
the bottom of the ſtatue of the HERCULES
FARNESE an old inſcription was diſco-
vered, that ſhews it was ſo called from
the name of the famous ſculptor who
made it. Many paſſages in Mr. Pope's
poems, which are now eaſily explained,
may, in a few centuries, become entirely
unintelligible, and (excuſe the improba-
bility of the circumſtance) when it is
no longer remembered that he lived at
Twitnam,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 313
Twitnam, he will no longer be known
for the Swan of Thames.
Virgil, in his Eclogues, celebrates
POLLIO, VARO, and GALLUS, and he
dedicates his Georgics to MECÆNAS :
but in the Æneid, he could not intro-
duce any of his cotemporaries, except
by feigned names : and even then, the
connection of the fable muſt be pre-
ſerved, and ſome poetical differences
muſt be allowed. Such a conduct has
induced ſome of the commentators to
affix various names to particular cha-
racters in the Æneid. They have men-
tioned Marius, POMPEY, Curio, and
others, but their hints, and ſketches
have been imperfect, and written at
random
Biſhop ATTERBURY is more explicit.
That learned prelate, in all the elegance,
and delicacy of criticiſm, illuſtrates the
paſſage relating to IAPIs, and fixes to
it, the name and character of ANTONIUS
Musa, an eminent phyſician, and po-
lite
314
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
lite ſcholar at Rome. The BARRY' of
his day.
- From theſe attempts, I have been en-
couraged to ſearch for the character of
HORACE, and inſtead of an imperfect
picture, I hope, I ſhall be able to point
out a very remarkable likeneſs in the fol-
lowing lines.
.
Et amicum Cretea mufis
Cretea mufarum comitem, cui carmina ſemper
Et citharæ cordi, numerofque intendere nervis
Semper equos atque arma virúm, pugnaſque canebat.
An ode in HORACE, which appears,
by the mention of TIRIDATES, to have
been written at the ſame time with the
ſeventh book of VIRGIL, bears a very
ſtriking reſemblance to ſome part of this
quotation. You remember
Mufis amicus triftitiam et metus
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
Portare ventis.
• Dr. EDWARD BARRY of Dublin.
The
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 319
The Mufis amicus was, in all probabi-
lity, a ſynonymous name of HORACE,
by which he was then diſtinguiſhed and
perfectly well known at Rome. Such an
appellation might be given to him from
this gay and ſpirited ode. He begins it,
by delivering at once all his cares and
fears to be buried in the Cretan ſea. Ti-
BULLUS and ANACREON have the ſame
general ſentiment; but HORACE chuſes
this particular part of the ocean for the
eternal grave of all his cares. A cir-
cumſtance which might occaſion VIRGIL
to give him the name of Creteas: and
I dare fay, Ham, you will agree with
me in obſerving, that VIRGIL repeats
that name with a certain tenderneſs and
eſteem, as if he was unwilling to quit the
ſubject, and as if he could wiſh to dwell
longer in the deſcription of ſo excellent
a genius, and fo remarkable a poet.
But the line,
Et citharæ cordi numeroſque intendere nervis,
ſeems
316
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
ſeems directly to point out HORACE,
and to celebrate him for his lyric per-
formances. MONSIEUR DACIER, in the
preface to his Horace, gives an hiſtory
of the progreſs and decay of lyric poe-
try. He obſerves, that from the foun-
dation of Rome to the reign of AUGUSTUS
CÆSAR (a ſpace of above ſeven hundred
years) not one lyric poet had appeared.
HORACE was the firſt Roman, who,
with a ſurprizing natural genius, having
ſtudied and acquired the beauty and
ftrength of numbers, formed himſelf
upon the Grecian plan, and became the
beſt Latin lyric poet of the Auguſtan
age. From whence, it almoſt evidently
appears, that this paſſage can only be
adapted to him.
Thus far, without ſtraining the ex-
planation of theſe lines, I would willing-
ly hope, that the features of HORACE
are diſcernible. The laſt verſe indeed
does not ſeem to anſwer ſo exactly his
poetical character
Semper
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 317
Semper equos atque arma virûm pugnaſque canebat.
UP,
Let us try, if we cannot baniſh the ob-
jection, and eſtabliſh a perfect confirm-
ation of the reſemblance.
Several of the odes of HORACE are
remarkably fine in the warlike ſtrain,
particularly the ode to Augustus after
the battle of Astium, when the ſenate
had agreed to addreſs folemn hymns to
the Emperor in the fame manner as to
the celeſtial deities. The ode beginning,
Gælo tonantem, and occaſioned by the
conqueſt over the Britons and Perſians,
is full of fire. But the addreſs to Asi-
NIUS Pollio breaths war and ſlaughter
ſtill in a more exalted ſtrain.
:
Jam nunc minaci murmure cornuum
Perſtringis aures : jam litui ftrepunt.
Jam fulgor armorum fugaces
Terret equos, equitumque vultus.
MONSIEUR SANADON obferves, that
this ſtanza, and the four which follow
it,
318
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
it, . are written with the greateſt ſpirit of
lyric poetry. His expreſſion is La force
de. Poehe lyrique ne va point au de lat.
It is very certain, that HORACE was
a perfect maſter of the poetical array of
battle, the din of war, and the found of
clarions: or in the words of VIRGIL,
equos atque arma virûm pugnaſque canebat.
But, notwithſtanding his powers in that
ſtyle, he ſeems conſtantly deſirous of de
clming any long poem, or laboured per-
formance upon thoſe ſubjects. In his
ode beginning Motum ex Metello, he ad
vifes ASINTUS Pollio to lay aſide all in-
tentions of writing a tragedy upon the
civil wars, between ANTHONY and Co
TAVIUS: and he fortifies this advice, by
pointing out the danger of the theme.
He tells POLLIO
Periculofo plenum opus alea
Trattas : et incedis per ignes
Suppoſitos cineri dolofo.
But,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 319
But, while he expatiates upon the dif-
ficulty of the undertaking, he ſews him-
ſelf ſuperior to the labours that deter
him. As a poet, we may be aſſured he
was equal to the tafk : as a politician,
we may prefume, he avoided it. He was
unwilling to remind his imperial maſter
of a war, in which he had appeared in
arms againſt his prince : and in which,
the character of AUGUSTUS had not been
diſtinguiſhed with the moſt perfect degree
of luſtre. Yet, that ſuch a kind of work
was expected from him, may undoubt-
edly be deduced from what he fays in
one of his odes to MECÆNAS.
Tuque pedeftribus
Dices hiſtoriis prælia Cæfaris,
Mecanas, MELIUS.
Here you ſee, HORACE aſſigns to his
patron MECÆNAS all the laurels that
might accrue from a compleat poem up-
on the wars of AUGUSTUS: and in an-
other
320 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
other place, the poet, with more mos
deſty than juſtice, ſays,
Cupidum, pater optime; vires
Deficiunt : neque enim quivis borrentia pilis
Agmina, nec fracta pereuntes cufpide Gallos
Aut labentis equo defcribat vulnera Parthi.
Theſe lines are in ſuch a ſtrain, as to
demonſtrate the powers of the Muſe,
much leſs deficient than the will. It is
very probable therefore, that, during the
time, while the public expectations wero
raiſed in hopes of ſeeing HORACE under-
take ſome poem entirely formed upon
the military plan, Virgil might have
compoſed that part of the Æneid from
whence I have drawn my quotation,
and might very juſtly have given Ho-
RACE the character of CRETEAS, not
only in conſequence of the odes already
written, but under a kind of certainty,
of ſeeing future and more perfect poems
in the ſame ſtrain.
I ſub-
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT.
327
LEY.
I ſubmit to your judgement, whether
theſe ſurmiſes are juſt. I really think
they bear a great reſemblance to truth.
Poſitive aſſertions on ſuch doubtful points,
I leave to more eſtabliſhed critics : and
return from the civil wars in Italy, to the
civil wars in St. JAMEs's library.
The two chief heroes among the mo-
dern generals, are WoTToN and Bent-
Their figures are diſplayed in the
moſt diſadvantageous attitudes. The
former is deſcribed, “ full of ſpleen,
dulneſs, and ill manners." The latter
is repreſented, “ tall, without ſhape or
« comelineſs : large, without ſtrength or
“ proportion.” But; I will not antici-
pate your future pleaſure in reading a
performance that
you will probably wiſh
longer, and more compleát.
The Battle, which is maintained by
the antients with great fuperiority of
ſtrength, though not of numbers, ends
with the demolition of BENTLEY and
his friend WoTTon by the lance of
your
Y
grand-
4
322
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
grandfather. And here, my ſon, it is
not poſſible for me to avoid taking notice
of one particular paſſage relating to my
father. “ BOYLE, ſays the author, clad
" in a ſuit of armour, WHICH HAD BEEN
GIVEN HIM BY ALL THE GODS,
" advanced towards the trembling foe, who
now fled before him." I ſhall not dif-
pute about the gift of the armour : but
thus far I will venture to obſerve, that
the gods never beſtowed celeſtial armour,
except upon heroes, whoſe
heroes, whoſe courage, and
fuperior ſtrength diſtinguiſhed them
from the reſt of mankind; whoſe me-
rits, and abilities were already conſpicu-
ous; and who could wield, though
young, the ſword of MARS, and adorn
it with all the virtues of MINERVA :
and let me aſſure you, my deareft Ha-
MILTON, that your grandfather ſuſtain-
ed the character, which he had ſo early
acquired to the laſt moment of his
life, and, on many occaſions; exerted
his abilities in ſuch a manner, as evi-
dently
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 323
dently ſhewed, that he wanted neither
armour, nor extraordinary aſſiſtance, to
add to his firſt victory ſuch ſuperior or-
naments, as will for ever be repoſited
among the brighteſt trophies, in the
temple of fame.
But before I quit this ſubject, give
me leave to own how ſenſibly I felt the
force of an arrow directed from his
hand. The wound, I believe, was not
deſigned to be laſting. It was given in
a paſſion, and upon an extraordinary
Occaſion: but afterwards he was ſo de-
firous to heal it, by a return of the
greateſt degree of friendſhip and affec-
tion, that he had directed the remain-
ing ſcar to be entirely eraſed, when his
unexpected and too ſudden death, pre-
vented the completion of his kind inten-
tions, and the perfection of my cure.
With difficulty I ſurvived the ſhock. As
it was not in my power to avoid the fe-
vere decree, I obeyed : and, by my obes
dience, have flattered myſelf that I fub-
mitted
Y 2
324 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
mitted to the will of heaven. However,
I have ſince thought, that I could not
offer a more grateful facrifice to his ma-
nes, than by exerting thoſe faculties,
which he had, at firſt, cultivated with
ſo much care ; and had depreſſed, at
laſt, perhaps only to raiſe them higher.
Oh my fon! how often have I reflected
upon the happineſs of Æneas, in hear-
ing the ghoſt of Anchises ſay,
Sic equidem ducebam animo rebarque
futurum,
Tempora dinumerans: nec me mea cura fefellit,
The name of my honoured father has
inſenſibly drawn me into this digreſſion,
which, to ſpeak the truth, I look upon
as due to his memory, to my own ſen-
timents, and to your filial tenderneſs.
The Fragment, or a Diſcourſe concerning
the mechanical operation of the Spirit, is a
ſatyr againſt enthuſiaſm, and thoſe af-
fected inſpirations, which conſtantly be-
gin in folly, and very often end in vice.
In
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 325
In this treatiſe, the author has revelled
in too licentious a vein of ſarcaſm :
many of his ideas are nauſeous, ſome
are indecent, and others have an irre-
ligious tendency: nor is the piece itſelf
equal in wit and humour either to The
Tale of a Tub, or The Battle of the Books.
I ſhould conſtantly chuſe rather to praiſe,
than to arraign any part of my friend
Swift's writings: but in thoſe tracts,
where he tries to make us uneaſy with
ourſelves, and unhappy in our preſent
exiſtence, there, I muſt yield him up en-
tirely to cenſure.
I am, dear HAMILTON,
Your moſt affectionate Father,
ORRERY,
:
Y 3
LE T.
326
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
######********************
L E T T E R XXIV.
DR. Swift left behind him few ma-
nuſcripts. Not one of
Not one of any conſe-
quence, except an account of the peace
of Utrecht, which he called an Hiſtory of
the four laſt years of Queen Ann. The ti-
tle of an hiſtory is too pompous for ſuch
à performance. In the hiſtorical ſtyle,
it wants dignity, and candour: but as
a pamphlet, it will appear the beſt de-
fence of Lord Oxford's adminiſtration,
and the cleareſt account of the treaty of
Utrecht, that has hitherto been written.
In ſome of his leiſure hours, he had
Þegun an hiſtory of England, and had
purſued it through two or three reigns,
from WILLIAM the Conqueror. The
contempt he conceived of our antient
monarchs, made him foon lay the deſign
afide. His averſion to kings was in-
vincible.
You will ſay perhaps, this
averſion
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 327
averſion was rooted in pride :. poſſia
bly it might: but, in your courſe of
reading, you will find ſo
will find ſo very few
princes whoſe merits and abilities entitle
them even to a crown of ruſhes, that
you will probably think no ſmall degree
of prudence neceſſary to reconcile us to a
monarchical ftate. What has not this
nation fuffered from our former princes ?
Even from the beſt of them? If we
fpeak candidly of our boaſted Queen
ELIZABETH, ſhe was, in many inſtances,
a tyrant: but ſhe was a tyrant with
fenſe and dignity. She knew the true in-
tereſt of the nation, and ſhe purſued it;
but ſhe purſued it in an arbitrary man-
ner. She was fortunate in the time of
reigning : for her character has been
exalted by the want of merit in her fuc-
ceffor, from whoſe miſconduct guſhed
forth that torrent of miſery, which not
only bore down his ſon, but overwhelm-
ed the three kingdoms. If you aſk what
were the precious fruits of the reſtora-
tion?
Y 4
328 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
tion? The anſwer will be, an exchange
only from one confuſion to another
from jealouſies between general MONK
and LAMBERT, to jealouſies between the
dukes of York and Monmouth; a perpe:
tual rotation of falſe politics: a king
with the beſt natured diſpoſition imagin-
able, ſuffering innocent blood to be ſhed
without remorſe. Or, if you enquiſe,
what was the effect of a lawful ſovereign?
A ſhameful ſubmiſſion to a neighbouring
kingdom, which, not long before, had
trembled at the frowns of an uſurper.
Such was the fate of poor England! To
theſe wretched times, ſucceeded the reli-
gious fooleries, and the weak attempts
of JAMES the ſecond, Then followed
the revolution. But, I muſt deſcend no
lower. Let us therefore turn our eyes
from home, and take a momentary view
of other nations. If we look towards
antient Rome, and conſider her firſt ſe-
ven monarchs, how wicked, or how in,
ſignificant were their characters? And,
when
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 329
when the name of Monarch was changed
into that of Emperor, what a tyrannical
pack of CÆSARS paſs before our eyes ?
Many of them, the greateſt monſters
that human nature ever produced : yet
theſe were lords, emperors, and kings
of the world. If you read the Old Teſta-
ment, and conſult the Chronicles of the
Kings of Judah, you will find them a
ſet of the proudeſt, and the moſt obſti-
nate princes upon earth. Tell me then,
my HAMILTON, is not ſuch a retroſpect
enough to diſguſt us againſt kings?
Bad as it is, it mụſt not diſguſt an En-
gliſhman. We ought ever to regard,
honour, and preſerve our original con-
ftitution, which of all regal ſtates is the
beſt framed in the univerſe. The ba-
lance of our government is hung indeed
in the niceſt manner imaginable: a ſin-
gle hair will turn it; but when it is held
exactly even, there cannot be a finer fy-
ſtem under heaven: and I muſt freely
own to you, that I think our kings have
been
330
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
been often leſs blameable than their peo-
ple. You remember the exclamation of
the Scotchman, upon ſeeing the flatteries
paid to JAMES the firſt at his acceſſion,
By my faul, mon, yon feuliſh folk will
Spoil a geud king.” The Scotchman
was in the right : but we continued in
our fooliſh ways to James and his
fucceſſors. Our courtly adulations are
always outragious, we know no bounds.
The perſon flattered, muſt be more than
human, not to be ſometimes blinded by
fuch perpetual incenſe. Perhaps we bor-
row this kind of ſervility from the
French, who, in the laſt century, be-
ſtowed the title of just upon Lewis the
thirteenth, during whoſe reign, ſuch re-
peated acts of cruelty, oppreſſion, and
injuſtice, were perpetrated, as ſcarce any
other annals can produce.
An additional excuſe, that may be
made for the errors of our Engliſh kings,
is the different treatment which they
find at the beginning, from what they re-
ceive
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 331
ceive at the latter end of their reigns.
At the beginning, all is ſmoothneſs, all
is joy and felicity: but the ſun-fhine is
feldom of a very long duration. Clouds
of jealouſy ariſe, and the whole atmo-
ſphere is foon filled with noxious va-
pours; fo that the remaining chafm is
filled up with heart-burnings, animofi-
ties, and perſonal altercations between
miniſters : and they often ariſe to ſuch
a height, as even to moleft the King in
his chair of ſtate. Delirant Achivi, plec-
tuntur reges.
Theſe are the unhappy
effects that ariſe, as I have before ob-
ſerved, from the very nobleſt cauſe, the
thirſt of liberty. A free people are con-
ftantly jealous of their rights. A wife
king will preſerve to them thoſe rights,
and by ſuch a maxim will eſtabliſh his
own. But, the great misfortune of
our former Engliſh princes has been
their indolent ſubmiſſion to the name,
without the leaſt attempt of diſcharg-
ing the duties of a fovereign. The
life
332
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
life of ſuch a prince muſt have proved
inglorious to his people, and unhappy
to himſelf. He muſt have found him-
ſelf only the ſecond perſon in his king-
dom, nay perhaps the third or fourth :
the leviathans of power, being ſeldom,
if ever, without their coadjutors : and
in that caſe, it is a point of condeſcen-
ſion, to permit their royal maſter to be
one of the groope. Our Engliſh com-
mentaries, which are in truth a very me-
lancholy, and a very reproachful hiſtory,
give us many mortifying inſtances of this
kind. I live ſo detached from the great
world; and I keep myſelf at ſuch a di-
ſtance from the high commerce of poli-
tics, that I know little or nothing of the
preſent times, and therefore can only
inſtruct you from my reading, and not
from my experience. Your fate perhaps
may lead you to have admittance to the
facred cloſet, or to approach the exalted
ſteps of the throne. If that honour is
in reſerve for you, uſę-it-in-ſuch a man-
ner,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 333
ner, as ſhall ſhew, that
you
think
your-
ſelf accountable to God, and your coun-
try, for every action of your life. Begin
by conquering your own prejudices, and
then endeavour to conquer thoſe of your
maſter. Make him in love with par-
haments, but let thoſe parliaments be
free. Bring him thoroughly acquainted,
even with the minuteſt branch of the
conſtitution. Study his honour. Pre-
vent his paſſions. Correct his errors.
Keep England ever uppermoſt in your
thoughts: and conſider the king of En-
gland as only born for the good of his
people. Shield him, if poſſible, from
flattery: it is a rock more fatal to
princes, than Charybdis ever was to ma-
riners. Guide his leiſure to manly em-
ployments, ſuch as may preſerve him
from the enervating delicacies of a court,
In your public capacity forget your re-
lations, and your private friends. Know
none but the friends of your country.
Deſpiſe all dignities that you have not
more
1
334 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
more than thoroughly deſerved. Fear
nothing but your own conſcience. Aim
at nothing but the proſperity of the
ftate. Remember, that Great Britain is
an iſland, and that nature, by detach
ing it from the continent, has rendered
our ſituation particularly fortunate : and
has pointed out to us, in what element
our chief ſtrength is appointed. Cheriſh
upon all occafions our naval armament :
and fail not to oppoſe your voice, againſt
any greater number of land forces than
are abſolutely neceſſary: I had almoſt
faid, neceſſary for reviews in Hyde Park.
A king, who enjoys the true affection
of his people, will never ſtand in need
of foldiers to defend him. He will dread
no competitor: he will apprehend no do-
meſtic danger. He will diftinguiſh which
of the powers abroad are his natural and
political enemies, and which are fo fi-
tuated, as to require his friendſhip and
alliance: He will attend to the im-
provement of the colonies in the Welt
Indies,
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 335
of giv-
Indies, and to the different branches of
trade that may ſafely and wiſely be en-
couraged in the three different kingdoms.
You find, my HAMILTON, that I fup-
poſe your imaginary ſovereign capable
of receiving inſtruction, and
you
ing it. But far be it from me to wiſh
you his only counſellor, or (to expreſs
myſelf more properly) his fole miniſter :
one, who draws every thing within the
vortex of his own power : who is at
once admiral, general, treaſurer, arch,
biſhop, judge, and perpetual legiſlator.
Such a kind of magiſtrate is odious to
the Engliſh conſtitution.
If from the two houſes of parliament
you ſeparate, or withdraw the King,
the government will remain in the form
of a republic, where every man has his
part allotted to him, and is to co-operate
with the relt, for the benefit of the collec-
tive body of the people. What then is
the King? Only the firſt and chief mat
giftrate, who acts in a fuperior degree
to
336 REMARKS ON THE LIFE
Such a power
to the reſt. All dignities, all honours
flow from the crown.
alone, excluſive of every other, will give
a prince fufficient authority throughout
all his dominions : but he has many
more prerogatives. He has the glori,
ous privilege of pardoning offences, and
rewarding great actions : while the odi-
ous, or at leaſt the reluctant parts of
juriſdiction, ſuch as puniſhment, and
condemnation, are allotted to his offi-
cers : to himſelf alone, is left the god-
like power of mercy and forgiveneſs.
From hence perhaps, kings have thought
themſelves repreſentatives of God. Would
to God, they thought themſelves re-
preſentatives of the people. The law
indeed, generouſly looks upon the King
as incapable of doing wrong. Of what
pernicious conſequence therefore muſt be
the interpofition of a ſingle man between
the King and the people? How much
muſt he eclipfe: his maſter's glory, and
the proſperity of the ſtate ? His ſituation
will
AND WRITINGS OP DR. SWIFT. 337
will neceſſarily make him act in an arbi-
trary manner. He is anſwerable to the
laws; and, if his orders are diſputed,
he is unhinged ; if they are diſobeyed, he
is undone, unleſs he has artfully brought
his adverſaries to a greater degree of
corruption than himſelf, and, in that
caſe, But I muſt remember the
boundaries of a letter, and muſt confider,
that, having already finiſhed my moft
material obſervations upon the life and
writings of the Dean of St. Patrick's,
it is time to draw towards an end. I
originally choſe the topic, my deareſt
HAMILTON, becauſe few characters could
have afforded fo great a variety of faults
and beauties. Few men have been more
known and admired, or more envied
and cenſured, than Dr. Swift. From
the gifts of nature, he had great pow.
ers, and from the imperfection of bu-
manity, he had many failings. I always
conſidered him as an Abſtract and brief
chronicle of the times: no man being beta
Z
ter
.
338
REMARKS ON THE LIFE
of the age.
ter acquainted with human nature, both
in the higheſt, and in the loweſt ſcenes
of life. His friends, and correſpondents,
were the greateſt and moſt eminent men
The ſages of antiquity
were often the companions of his cloſet:
and although he induſtriouſly avoided
an oſtentation of learning, and generally
choſe to draw his materials from his own
ſtore, yet his knowledge in the antient
authors evidently appears from the
ſtrength of his ſentiments, and the claſa
fic correctneſs of his ſtyle.
You muſt have obſerved, my dear
fon, that I could not ſubmit to be con-
fined within the narrow limits of biogra-
phical memoirs.
I have gone into a
more extenſive field, and, in my pro-
grefs, I wiſh I may have thrown out
fuch hints, as ſhall tend to form your
mind to virtue and learning : the ulti-
mate end of all my wiſhes, and all my
cares. Heaven grant, my HAMILTON,
that I may deſerve from you, the honour
which
AND WRITINGS OF DR. SWIFT. 339
which HORACE pays to his father,
(Infuevit pater boc me, ut fugerem exemplis
vitiorum &c.) when you drop a filial
tear over the grave of
Your moſt affectionate Father,
your ſincerelt Friend, and
your happy Companion,
Leiceſter Fields,
Auguſt 28, 1751.
ORRERY.
The E N D.
Z 2
THE
Ι Ν D Ε Χ.
*
1
L E T T E R I.
PAGE
THE introduktion.
A general character of Dr. SWIFT.
4
The place of his birth.
6
An account of his family.
His education at ſchool, and at the Univerſity of Dublin. 19
His degree of batchelor of Arts, ſpeciali gratiâ.
His admiffion ad eundem at Hart Hall in Oxford,
880
13
L E T T ER II.
Dr. Swift, a maſter of arts, in the year 1691. 14
Sir William Temple's kindneſs to him.
15
A letter from him to his uncle, WILLIAM Swift, dated
in the year 1692.
17
Dr. Swift quits Oxford, and lives with Sir WILLIAM
TEMPLE,
19
Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE's death.
The hiſtory of STELLA, wife of Dr. Swift.
21
22
L E T T E R III.
Dr. Swift's fruitleſs attendance at Whitehall. 29
He goes to Ireland as chaplain and ſecretary to Lord
BERKELIY,
30
Z3
Mr.
The I N D E X.
PAGE
Mr. Bush fuperfedes bim in the office of fecretary, 31
He is put in poffeffion of two rectories, Laracor and
Rathbeggan.
31
His clerk Roger.
32
His fifter diſobliges him by marrying a tradeſman. 33
His mother died at Leiceſter.
33
Hiemanner of travelling.
34
The deanery of Derry, intended for Dr. Swift.
35
The firſt interview between Arcbbifkap King, and Pri-
mate BOULTER.
King William dies.
37
36
38
FORD
L E T T E R IV,
Queen Ann's chief miniſters.
Dr. Swift attaches himfelf to the tories.
40
The commencement of his intimacy with the Earl of Ox-
42
His inclinations to ſettle in England.
43
A quotation from one of his letters to Mr. Pope.
45
He is made Dean of St. Patrick's, in Ireland, in the
year 1713.
His diſappointment of a biſhoprie.
46
88
L E T T E R V.
The rage of party in Ireland at Dr. Swift's arrival
there, in the year 1713.
49
SWIFT's behaviour to the chapter of St. Patrick's. 51
A letter from Mr. Pope to Dr. Swift.
53
Queen Ann dies, and Dr. SWIFT goes to his deanery in
Ireland.
60
L E T.
The
IN DE X.
1
61
L E T T E R VI.
PAGE
The fate of Ireland at the death of Queen Ann.
The different characters of Dr. TILLOTSON, Mr. Ad.
DIBON, and Dr. Swift, as writers in proſe. 62
Swift's want of delicacy.
A criticiſm on Swift's poetical writings.
SWIFT compared to HORACE.
66
Swirt's works from 1714 to 1720, are few and trifling. 69
In the year 1720, be is diſtinguiſhed by the title of THE
DEAN.
70
The Drapier's Letters gain univerſal applauſe. 71
64
65
L E T T E R VII.
FAULKNER's edition of the Dean's works.
79
The charaEter of Dr. Sheridan.
Some reflections upon the variegated character of Dr.
Swift.
84
87
L E T T ER VIII.
The firft volume of Faulkner's edition of Swift's works.
90
Remarks upon, A Diſcourſe of the conteſts and diſſen-
tions between the nobles and commons in Atbens
and Rome.
90
A Meditation upon a broom-ſtick. 95
The Sentiments of a Church-of En.
gland Man with reſpect to Religi-
on and Government.
95
The Argument againſt aboliſhing
Chriſtianity.
96
Z 4
A Pro-
The INDE X.
1
.
98
PAGE
A Projea for the Advancement of Re-
ligion, and the Reformation of
Manners.
The tritical Eſſay on the Faculties of
the Mind:
99
The Letter to the Earl of OXFORD for
correcting, improving, and aſcer-
taining the English Tongue.
99
A Letter to a young gentleman lately
entered into holy Orders : And
To a young Lady on her Marriage. 102
E
IX.
IX.
L E T T E R
The ſecond volume of Swift's works,
The biftory of VANESSA.
104
104
125 & 126
L E T T E R X.
Remarks upon, The Lady's Dreſſing Room.
123
Some general remarks upon Swift's Poems.
An anecdote concerning DAPHNE.
127
Swift's Seraglio.
128
Remarks upon, SWIFT's Riddles, his Latin Epiſtle to
Dr. SHERIDAN, and his Deſcription in Latin of
the Rocks of Carbery.
130
L E T T ER XI.
The third volume of Swift's works,
132
Some general obſervations upon LEMUEL GULLIVER'S
Travels into ſeveral remote Nations of the world. 132
The I N D E X.
1
PAGE
A letter from Mrs. WHITEWAY to Lord ORRERY dated
November 22, 1742, deſcribing the melancholy fe-
tuation of Dr. Swift's health and underſtanding.
139
A litter from DBANE SWIFT, Eſq; to the fame purport,
dated April 4, 1744.
142
CYRANO DE BERGERAC's vayage to the fun and moon. 145
148
L E T T E R XII.
Swift unacquainted with mathematics.
Remarks upon the flying iſland, and the manners, and
various projects of the philoſophers of Lagado. 150
Swift's di&tionary for his female fenate.
153
That, true humour and decency ought always to go to-
gether.
153
L ET TER XIII.
A character of ALEXANDER the Great.
157
Remarks upon HANNIBAL, and Live the hiſtoriar. 160
The ghoſts of POMPEY and Cæsar introduced by Swift,
only to grace the entry of Brutus, bis favourite
patriot.
160
An epigram on the buft of Brutus.
162
A defence of CÆSAR the di&tator.
163
Swift's fextumvirate.
165
The different tempers of the Archbiſhop of Cambray, and
the Dean of St. PATRICK's.
168
L E T T E R XIV.
Short characters of Homer.
170
of ARISTOTLE.
173
Of Ramas, Scotus, and AQUINAS. 175
Of
The
Ι Ν D Ε Χ.
2
Of EPICURUS.
Of DesCARTES.
Of GASSENDI.
Remarks upon the Struldbruggs.
PAGE
176
181
181
182
L E T T E R XV.
Remarks upon the Houyhnhnms, and the Yahoos.
184
L E T T E R XVI.
The fourth volume of Swift's works.
191
Remarks upon, A Letter from a Member of the
Houſe of Commons in Ireland, to a Member of
the Houſe of Commons in England, concerning
the Sacramental Teft.
191
Swift's race with Dr. RAYMOND.
192
Remarks upon, A Propoſal for the univerſal uſe of
Iriſh Manufacture in Clothes and Furniture of
Houſes, &c.
195
Some Arguments againſt enlarging
the Power of Biſhops in letting
Leaſes.
197
The DRAPIER's Letters, and a full
and true Account of the folemn
proceſſion to the Gallows at the
Execution of WILLIAM Wood,
Efq; and Hard-ware-man.
The preſent fate of Ireland.
199
Some pamphlets in the fourth volume,"mentioned only as
being particularly humorous.
200 201
A copy of verſes from Lord ORRERY to Dr. Swift.
203
?
198
LE T-
The I N D E X,
LETTER XVII.
PAGE
The fifth volume of Swift's works.
204
Remarks upon, The Conduct of the Allies.
204
The Examiners.
205
Some reftations upon, Palitical pamphlets, and upon
party.
207 & 209
211
L ET TER XVIII.
The fixth volume of Swift's works.
212
A character of the Earl of PETERBOROUOH.
Remarks upon, a pamphlet entitled, The public Spirit
of the Whigs.
214
A Preface to the Biſhop of Salifou-
ry's Introduction to the third Vo-
lume of the Hiſtory of the Re-
formation of the Church of En-
gland.
215
The Preſbyterians Plea of Merit in
order to take off the Teft, impar-
tially examined.
217
Advice offered to the Members of
the Q&ober Club.
218
22 1
L E T T E R XIX.
The ſeventh volume of Swift's works, containing his
epiftolary Correſpondence from the year 1714 to
the year 1737
Some general obſervations upon advice.
A compariſon between the writings and manners of Dr.
Swift and Mr. Pope.
224
Their friendſhip mutual and laſting.
227
Ren
222
The I NDË X.
PAGE
Remarks upon, the writings of Lord Bacon,
234
Of Milton.
235
of HARRINGTON. 236
Of ALGERNON SYDNEY. 236
Of Lord CLARENDON.
236
Of Dr. SPRAT, Bifbop of
Rocheſter
237
Of Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE. 238
Swift, Addison, and Lord BOLINGBROKE, our tbree
beft Engliſh writers.
238
Remarks on Pope's Ethic Epiftles, and his Elay on Mar. 239
Some bints at Lord BOLINGBROKE's cbaratter.
240
L E T T E R XX.
Remarks upon, A letter from Dr. SWIFT to Mr. Pope,
dated Dublin, January 10, 1721.
242
Lord BOLINGBROKE's letters.
253
GAY's letters.
253
A character of Dr. ARBUTHNOT.
255
Animadverſions upon cpiftolary writings.
258
& poftfcript.
261
L E T T E R XXI.
The eighth volume of Swift's works.
261
Remarks on Dr. Swift's will.
262
The fituation of his bealth, and mind, from the year
1739 to bis death, at the latter end of O&ober 1745. 264
Dr. Swift's pre-fentiments of his fate.
266
The amount of bis fortune.
267
A diſſertation upon lunacy,
267
A differtation span idiotiſm.
278
LE T.
The
Ι Ν D Ε Χ.
L E T T E R XXII.
PAGE
Remarks upon, Swift's Directions to Servants. 282
Reaſons humbly offered to the Par-
liament of Ireland, for repealing
the Sacramental Teft in favour of
the Catholics.
286
The remainder of the volume compared to a garden over-
run with docks and thiſtles, among which Swift's
three fermons appear as roſes.
288
Remarks upon, thoſe ſermons.
From 289 to 296
Swift's averfions to triplets.
297
Swift's writings compared to a machine in WINSTAN-
LEY's water works.
299
L E T T E R XXIII.
Remarks upon, The Tale of a Tub.
300
The characters of PETER, JACK, and
MARTIN.
302
The Battle of the Books.
309
A criticiſm on Virgil, attempting to prove, that he
bas mentioned HORACE.
311
Some hints relating to WooTON, BENTLEY, and
BOYLE.
321 899 322
A quotation from Virgil relating to ANCHISE$.
324
Remarks upon, The Fragment, or a Diſcourſe con-
cerning the mechanical Operation of the Spirit. 324
L E T T E R XXIV.
.
Some hints of a manufcript (entitled by Dr. SWIFT,)
An Hiſtory of the four laſt years of Queen Ann. 327
The conclufion.
337
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Lowe Porn July, 1920
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