Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/essayonearlierpaOObarrrich DR. BARRETT'S ESSAY dN THE EARLIER PART OP THE JAFE OF S1VIFT. [eno;z5 who have favoured B 2 U5 4 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART lis with accounts of his life, we pass to a review of the times v/h^en these events happened. At his departure from College, the political hemisphere was covered with thick clouds ; the Protestant religion seemed on the point of being extinguished in Ire- land ; and the College experienced such convulsions from the troubled state of the times, as produced a tern})0rarv dissolution, and had well nigh destroyed the society. Once more restored to the blessings of peace, religion, and freedom, many of its members were exalted to high stations, the reward of their distinguished attachment to the principles of true religion and constitutional freedom : the few who re- mained, in no great length of time gave place to others, and, in the change of the parties concerned, was lost much of the recollection of the past. The first ten years after the Revolution, Swift appears to have almost exclusively spent in Eng- land, where he took his Master's degree, and where all his hopes of preferment were centred : the death of Sir William Temple was the epocha of his return to Ireland, with the fixed intention of there residing ; and although he spent much of the next ten years in Ireland, yet it was not without many and lony; excursions to that country where he was one day to act so distinguished a part. During all this time he was a person but little known ; he had not attained that celebrity oi' character which attracted and fixed the attention of tlie world, and which only could bestow importance on, and render interesting, the most trivial occurrences of his past life. His earliest prof.luction, the Tale of a Tub, he was ashamed or afraid to avow; it was therefore sent into the world anonymously ; as were also many of his 3 other OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 5 Other juvenile pieces. At length, in the year 1710, we behold him emerging from obscurity, but tb.is upwards of twenty years after he had left college; and the earliest uf his college friends, who has fa- voured us with an account of his life, Dr. Delany, a person who was admitted into college fourteen years after Swift had left it. Can it then be any wonder that, when the'office of collecting and trj.nsnntting to us the transactions of his earlier } cars, devolved on different persons inadequate to the task, because they were long posterior to the times, and not suihciently careful to consult the proper authorities, we should labour under much ignorance and uncertainty upon the subject ? Subsequent long to those times as was their con- nexion with Swift, what then was tlie source whence they derived all they knew about his conduct in college? — It was froiYi his own information, and no other,— Depending on his authority, they all en- large on his neglect of science, and the ignominious circumstances which attended the taking of his de- gree ; and in them imagine they have found a true solution of that disgust which Swift sometimes ex- pressed against that society where he received his education. — Tliat a degree of A. B. taken in the man- ner he did, was ignominious, I readily ^dmit : fori find in the petition of the College to Lord Tyrcon- nell, that a degree of A.M. conferred speciali gra- tia on the unworthy Bernard Doyle, in July l085, is thus spoken of: — " Add hereunto his ignorance and want of scholarship, whereby he obtained his degree with much difficulty, Out of compassion chiefly, and because he had long smcc left tlie college, so that it was registered with the mark of un^^orthh^ess and disgrace 6 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART disgrace in the public acts of the University." But while they think they have found in this, the true cause of Swift's pique to the college, they are igno* rant that degrees of this nature were very frequently conferred in those days ; and they forget that Swift always acknowledged the justice of the measure, and candidly admitted that it was what he deserved. — And granting that Swift, in the moments of peevish- ness or disappointment, did write or utter things to the disparagement of the college, are we warranted thence to infer that he was the real enemy of this institution, and it the settled object of his aversion ? Was he not the approved and staunch friend of Ire- land, and yet known on some occasions to express resentment against it ? Were not his principal con- nexions among members of the college, and do not his letters contain abundant proofs of his regard for it ? I would particularly refer to his letter of July, 1736, to the Provost and Senior Fellows, as containing a very explicit declaration of his feelings towards their society. See also his letter to Lord Peterborough, 28th April, 1725. And did he not abide in college near three years after the supposed slight and affront? After thus considering what they have told us, let us next turn our eyes to the points on which they have left us in the dark, and respecting which they are entirely silent. And here, in case we find from undoubted authority that Swift became the object of academic censure on more than one occasion, and yet find these circumstances unnoticed by his biogra- phers, to what can we ascribe it, except to the silence which Swift himself (who was their Sole authority) pre- served on the subject ? And why was he silent, unless some disgrace had attended these censures, which, to a spirit OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 7 a spirit so high as his was, it must have been pecu- liarly grating to reflect upon? Would it not have been most probable, that in order to avert inquiry into the causes of any ill-nature or pique in which he could not avoid sometimes indulging, and to obli- terate, as far as in him lay, all memory of past dis- grace, he would have assumed the appearance of a candid confession, and frequently rehearsed the cir- cumstances that attended his degree ; and that thus, in the repetition of a lesser miscarriage, he was likely to abolish the memory and avert the suspicion of a greater delinquency ? — For that he left college in a disgust, is pretty evident from the following passage, taken from his own letter of 28 November, ]6c)2: *' I am ashamed to have been more oblio-ed in a few o weeks to strangers, than I was in seven years to Dublin College." I propose therefore in this Essay, to draw up a short account of that early part of Swift's life which he spent in Trinity College, and to notice some omissions respecting this celebrated author, even in his more advanced years, into which his biographers have been betrayed. Such an account, if properly au- thenticated, will discover some particulars that cannot fail to interest us : will discover the true sources of any intemperate language or harsh expressions res- pecting his ALMA MATER, which he may have been led to adopt ; and will prove a proper introduction to the papers that accompany this Essay, and shew that they are not ascribed to him as their author, upon weak or slight evidence. But first it will be proper to premise what are the sources whence I derive my information respecting the tinie he spent in college. They are these : 1. The 8 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART 1. The Book of Admission into College, or Senior Lecturer's Book. This contains the names, ages, and descriptions of all students admitted from the year 1637 to 1725. 2. The Book of Registry ; or of the Transactions of the Provosts and Senior Fellows, from lt)40 to 1740: in which are found all elections, collations to degrees, censures, &c. during that period. 3. The Buttery Books. In them are written every week the names of the students, and the punishments inflicted on them for missing duties ; also, whether they be in commons or not, is marked in these books. Of these I make use of three, viz. one Junior Book, as it is called, and two Senior Books. The Senior Book contains the names of those who are on the foundation, that is, the Provost, Fellows and Scholars of the house ; also resident doctors, masters, and fellow-commoners. The Junior Book contains the names of all the other students. — The books of the Buttery relating to Swift's times, and which I was able to find, were, a Senior Book, and the Junior Book corresponding to it ; they extend from -14 No- vember 1(385, to 14 October 1687. The third is the succeeding Senior Book, extending from 3 1 De- cember ld87, to IS September 1691 : and to this I was unable to procure the corresponding Junior Book. The want of this last will be felt in making out some of the conclusions I mean to establish ; but as it will leave room for reason to operate in making those inferences, and as I have good grounds to proceed upon without it, the loss is the less to be ^•egretted. The Senior Lecturer's Book informs us, that on 24 April J 682., were admitted as pensioners, under the OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 9 the tuition of St. George Aslie, from the school of Mr. Ryder at Kilkenny, *' Thomas Swift, sou of Thomas, aged fifteen years, born in Oxfordshire," and ** Jonath:m Swift, son of Jonathau, aged fourteen years, born in the county of Dublin." When we compare this entry with the particulars given by Swift in the short account of his own life, published by Mr. Deane Swift, we cannot doubt, that the Thomas here mentioned is that cousin of Jona- than Swift, who was rector of Puttenham, where he died in May, 1752, in the eighty-seventh year of his age. For if he had been born iu i6C6, he would ^n April 1^82, have completed fifteen years, and in 1/^2 \ completed eighty-six years, and therefore havebeerl'in the eio-hty-seventh year of his age at his decease. Nor does he agree in the circumstances of age only,ibut in the other particulars. Thus the rector of Putt bam was the son of Thomas, and this last was bred at Oxford, and probably (from his matrimonial connec- tion with the family of Davenant) a resident there. — Thomas S.vift then being one year older than Jona- than, it is probable that he would be denominated Swift senior, when both entered on the same day : and we accordingly find him so styled. And as a person of the name of Jones was inti- mately connected with Swift in the earlier part of his life, although such connexion has totally escaped the observation of all Swift's biographers, this vvilf be the place for me to relate what parliculais we learn from the same college record concerning this person, who will bear, as I apprehend, no inconsiderable share in what concerns Swift in the sequel. It thence appears that John Jones, a sizer, was admitted under the tuition 30 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART tuition of St. George Ashe, at the age of seventeen, on 1 May l682 : that is, only seven days after Swift's admission, and under the same tutor ; circumstances \vhich alone would sufficiently prove that he must have been known to and acquainted with Swift. After their admission into college, Sv/ift senior (that is, Thomas,) and Jones appear to have prose- cuted their studies with more success than Jonathan ; for after an examination in classical literature for two days by the Provost and Senior Fellows, according to the course observed in the College of Dublin, the former was elected a Scholar of the House on 26 May, 3 684; as was the latter on 30 May, l()85. All the three, however, commenced A. B. at the same time, in February l685-6: the grace of the house for that degree having been conferred on Thomas Smft on 11 February, and the special grace for the same granted to Jonathan Swift, John Jones, and three others, on the l3th of the same month. We learn from the sliort Account of his Life, drawn up by Swift himself, *' that previous to his taking his degree^ he had lived with great regularity and due observance of the statutes :" and agreeably to this representation I find no censures on him in the registry previous to that period. The first public punishment he received is thus detailed in that book : " 18 March, l686-7- Mr. Warren, Sir Swift se- nior, Sir Swift junior, Web, Bredy, Series, and John- son the pensioner, for notorious neglect of duties and frequenting the town, were admonished." And note also, that one of the above (Bredy) was ex* pelled, 19th September 168/5 " ^or writing and pub- lishing a scandalous libel on some ladies of quality." Let us next inquire and see what account the Buttery OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. ] 1 Buttery Books give of Swift's attendance on duties. From thein we learn, that the duties to which stu- dents were then Hable, were these : Chapel, — hall, — surplice, — catechism, — lectures in Greek, Hebrew, mathematics, as also morning lec- ture ; al-^o disputations and declamations. Of these the first four were in force all the year : the lectures, only in term. And I further find, that between the periods of 14 November l685, and 8 October J 687, (being the time comprized in the first and only Ju- nior Eook I could get) he had punishments on him, whether confirmed or taken off, upwards of seventy weeks : that after he had received the above-men- tioned punishments, he appears both out of commons and unpunished, for ten weeks and upwards ; whence, (as I do not believe the censure wrought any refor- mation in him,) I am inclined to believe that he spent the three or four months subsequent to his censure, in the country, his high spirit being unable to brook the disgrace. During other periods li-e was frequently out of commons ; thus, previously to 20 March, 3 685-5; also from May 1 to 18, l686; and from 28 August to l6 October, l6s6 ; and from 2/ November l6s6, to January 8, l6s6-7 ; but he has punishments confirmed on him, in those times: whence I conclude that he was then in college, not- withstanding he was out of commons. Most of his punishments are for non-attendance in chapel ; the amount is l/. 19^. 4d. confirmed, and IQs. lOd. taken off". — For surplice, (that is, for non-attendance in chapel at those times when surplices are required to be worn,) 11^'. 4d. confirmed: and 6.s. 6d. taken off. — Of his other punishments, those ibr lectures appear all confirmed.: and are, for catechism 35., Greek 12 ESSAY ON THE EARLIEE PART Greek lecture gd.^ Hebrew lecture 8d., mathematic lecture 1*. lOd.; and those for missing night-rolls, or town-haunting, (that is, for halls *,) amount to 3/. 4s. ; but are all taken otF, the admonition being substituted in their place. His negligence did therefore principally consist, J St. in the neglecting to attend divine service in the college chapel; concerning > which I observe that there are very few weeks in which he is not fined for a partial and remiss attendance, although there ap- pears scarce any in which he was totally and com- pletely idle. 2dly. In the frequent missing of night- rolls or halls, and also the missing of tickets-^-. He is sometimes punished for disputations and declama- tions ; and once 1^. for verses, which appear to have been some exercise given in at the time of the quar- terly examinations. The want of the second Junior Book (in which alone I could hope to find the name of Jonathan Swift) obliges me to have recourse to its correspond- ing Senior Book, to determine several points relating to the second punishment inflicted on him, and to the time of his leaving college. I shall therefore now proceed to state what information respecting his cousin Thomas, and Jones, the two Senior Books sup- ply us with ; observing only, that as Thomas and Jo- * The names of the students are called over in the college hall every night at nine o'clock. + The students of Trinity College are required by the statutes not to go into town without the written per-nission of their tutors, lett at the porter's lodge ; tliis is called a ticket : and consequently 7T)isi>irig tickets and town-hntinting mean the same thing, and the offence is punished by a pecuniary fine^ or (when that is found in-^ efficient) by admonition. n at ban OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 13 nathan have their names written in separate books, all possibility of our confounding the one with the other is thereby prevented. — The names Thomas Swift and John Jones are found among the scholars not then commenced, on November 2\, j6S5: but appear among those who commence in the succeed- ing February. Thomas (from some omission or other) is not called Sir Swift senior, previous to 21 September 1 688 : from thence he appears always under that appellation, (with the exception only of the weeks between 1 December 1 688, and 5 January 168S-9) until J June 1689 : from which time until 17 August 1689, he is styled only Sir Swift : a chasm then ensues in the book until 9 August 169O; the College having been seized on by King James the Second, and converted into a prison for the Protes- tants, no accounts seem to have been kept. And as his scholarship must in the interim have expired, his name is of course not found on the books, when the accounts were again resumed. — From all this I infer, that the name of Jonathan was taken off the books about 1 June I689: at which time we know he was at Moor Park, his Ode to Sir William Temple bearing date in June, 16S9. But I consider him and his cousin as having left college the end of Ja- nuary 16SS-9; for I find that Thomas is marked out of commons from 26 January 1688-9, to August 17, 1689: whereas he does not appear to have been out of commons previously to that time, except only twice ; and for each time about a month ; viz. about Christmas 1 685-6, and September l6s6. I am therefore of opinion, that Thomas left college about January 26, 16S8-9; and think it probable that Jo- nathan accompanied him. — Thomas Swift appears to have 14 ESSAY ON THE KARLIER PART* have had a non co, from l6 October l6s6, to IS March 1066-7 ; and again from 26 March to 30 July, l687 : and Jones to have had the same indul- gence from 26 February 1 686-7, to March 18, 1686-7 ; and from 30 April l6S7, to 12 July l688. In this last week he is marked, out of commons, and the following censure annexed to his name in the Buttery Book ; suspensus a discipulatu et ab omni jure quod hahuit in col'egio. But a pen has been drawn across the latter words, " et ab omni jure quod habuit in coliegio," as if for the purpose of ex- punging them. He remained out of commons, until 21 September l688, at which time his name was finally taken off the books. — The reasons of all these things I shall proceed shortly to explain, chiefly on the authority of the Registry ; and will shew how these two records, the Registry and Buttery Book, confirm each other. The second public punishment inflicted on Jona- than Swift was on the 30th of November, l688, a day when he had j ust completed his twenty-first year. The entries concerning it in the Registry are in these words : " 1688, November SO. The crimes objected against Sir Web, and others, having been fully proved, the following sentence was drawn up against them by the Vice-Provost and Senior Fellows, and published in the Hall by their orders : " Nemini obscurum, Sec. &c. Constat vero Dom. Web, Dom. Sergeant, Dom. Swift, Maynard, Spencer, et Fisher, huic Icgi contravenisse, tam seditiones sive dissensiones domesticas excitando, quam juniorem decanum ejusque monita contemnendo, eundemque minacibus verbis contempttis et contumaciae plenis lacessendo. OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 15 laces^endo, uncle gravissimas pcenas commcrlti sunt, &c. Flacuit Dom. Web, Dom. Swift, et Dom. Ser- geant, oinni gradu suspendendos tarn suscepto quani suscipiendo, &c. Ast vero Dom. Swift et Dom. Ser- geant, quoniam CDsteris adhuc intolerabilius se gesse- runt, ab eodem decano publice in Aula flexis genubus secundum preescriptam formulam die tertio Decem- bris proxime futuri, hora nona antemeridiand veniam petere." " 1 OSS-Q, January the 8th. The persons suspen- ded by the decree of November 30, were restored." In addition to the above I have to observe, that theVice-provost* was Dr. Acton, on whom the govern- ment of the College had devolved while the Provost was in England ; that Mr. Owen Lloyd was the ju- nior dean, elected to that office on 20 November, l688 ; and that Fisher, one of the parties punished, was a scholar of the house, and that a part of his punishment consisted in the suspension from his scholarship. I admit that in the above sentence, we do not find mention of the christian name of Swift, the delin- quent ; neither is any title annexed of senior or ju- nior : yet that the person so censured was Jonathan, and not Thomas, the following considerations will render certain. 1. The Senior Buttery Book remains; and from thence it is most clear, that Thomas never was sus- pended from his degree ; for he is always styled Sir Swift. * At this time. Dr. Huntington the provost, and Dr. G. Browne, a senior fellow, were in England, for the purpose of admitting the new chancellor, the Du];e of Ormond, whoie father died July IS, lG6S, 2. During l6 ESSAY ON TitE EARLIER PART 2. During the precise time of the suspension, Thomas has not the word, senior, annexed to his name ; although he is denominated Sir Swift senior, prior to the censure, and subsequent to the resto- ration. But whence arose this, unless from the cir- cumstance of Sir Swift junior having been suspended from his degree, and therefore no longer designated on the books as Sir Swift jun. but simply as Swift : there being therefore during the suspension, only one Sir Swift, he would of course lose the title of Sir Swift senior ; and be styled only — Sir Swift. 3. The sentence itself admits that Swift's conduct was more culpable than that of Fisher. And we know that Fisher was suspended from his scholarship. Had the Swift then that was punished, been a scho- lar, we may justly wonder why he also was not sus- pended from his scholarship. My opinion is, that it was because he had not a scholarship to be suspended from. Now if this answer be true, it is most certain that the delinquent must have been Jonathan. For Thomas had a scholarship, a suspension y;o?w which, had he been the censured person, would have formed a part of the sentence, and which we find it does not. Let us now see what reasons can be drawn from Swift's own accounts, to shew that he actually was in college at that time. 1st. His own account says, he entered at fourteen : now he completed fourteen years on 30 November, l681 ; and entered as I have above stated, (and as appears also from the time of taking his degree,) in April l6S2, that is, when he was fourteen years and a few months old. Which agrees with his own ac- count; for in April l681, he vvas not fourteen years old. OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. l7 o'lj, — And he says in his letter of 28 November, lOglj that he spent seven years in Dublin College; which added to April l682, bring us to April ids^, and of course include November, l6s8. 2d. Mr. Dcane Swift, one of his biographers, says, that he spent three years in college after taking his dc^-ree of A. B. — But this he took at the regular time in l6S5-6. And three years thence computed lead us to February, 16S8-9. 3d. He himself says J in the Account of his own Life, that he left college when the troubles broke out. But the troubles broke out in England in No- vember, l63S, when William landed, and shortly after they extended to Ireland. A general alarm pre- vailed among the Protestants, that a massacre, similar to that of 1041, was intended to take place, and that the day appointed for this scene of horrour was the 9th of December, l6sS: in consequence of these reports, multitudes sought their safety by a timely flight into England : and this I would call tlie begin- ning of the troubles. The' accounts then that Swift gives us of the time he spent in college, and the informations on the same head, derived from the college records, are per- fectly consistent, and confirm each other. — It remains to shew, what particulars in his future life and conduct may be explained from the events I have above sta- ted, and what light they may throw upon liis cha- racter. 1 . Hence is assigned the true reason of any aver- sion, which he might somelimes have expressed to the College of Dublin ; and hence we see why lie studiously enlarged upon the circumstances of his degree ; probably to banish the recollection and prc- C vent 18 ESSA^Y ON THE EARLIER PART vent the suspicion of his having been the object of a severer punishment, and compelled to submit to an indignity at the idea of which his haughty spirit could not but revolt. 2. Hence we learn, why Dr. Owen Lloyd became so obnoxious to Swift ; who, in his account of Lord Wharton, has heaped upon him such abuse as he never was known to have bestowed on any other person who had been a fellow or member of the col- lege. Not the interval of twenty years elapsing could extinguish the resentment he felt, and the rage that burned in his breast, when he remembered the into- lerable humiliation to which he was forced to sub- mit, in imploring pardon publicly on his knees from a person, the object of his contempt: an humiliation which I cannot believe his haughty temper could have stooped to, had there not been another person involved in the same act of degradation, and had not the Board given him this fellow-sutTerer. The events I have hitherto mentioned are those in which Swift took a direct and avowed part : but was there nothinsr else? was there no crime of a deeper dye, in which, though there was no direct and positive evidence, yet Swift did not pass unsuspected > To this particular I now hasten, wliich took place in a time intermediate between the two punishments j and in which I own, it does not appear from any existing college record, or probably from any that ever did exist, that Jonathan Swift was implicated. The nature of the offence precluded such a proof, and rendered suspicion the only thing that could ever have reached him ; and strange as it may ap- pear, the suspicion is perhaps stronger at the present time, when we know more of his writings, than when 2 - ■ the- OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 19 the offence was newly committed. — And that suspi- cion did extend to him, the following passage which is extracted from the Correspondence of Samuel Richardson, lately published, may probably lead us to believe- Vol. VI. page 171. Richardson to Lady Brad:.lTaigh, April 22, 1752: — " I am very well warranted by the son of an eminent divine, a prelate who was for three years what is called his chum;, in the following ac- count of that f-ict. Dr. Swift made as great a pro- gress in his learning at the University of Dublin in his youth, as any of his cotemporaries ; but was so very ill-natured and troublesome, that he Vv'as made Terroc-Filius,~on purpose to have a pretence to expel him. He raked up all the scandal against the Heads of that University, that a severe inquirer, and a still severer temper, could get together into his harangue. He was expelled in consequence of his abuse; and having his discessit^ afterwards got admitted at Ox- ford to his degree." So far has Richardson preserved this valuable anecdote to us, in which there is some truth, though mixed with much error; and it shall be my business to separate these from each other, and to discriminate that which is true, from that which is not so. — Is it then true, I ask, that Swift ever was appointed Terr^e-Filius, for a purpose so base and unworthy ? Or that he ever was Terrse-Filius ? Or that he ever incurred the punishment of expulsion > To all these questions, I answer in the negative. — But if this be so, where then lies the truth in the anecdote transmitted by Richardson ? My answer is ; that on the 1 1th of July, l683. there actually was a Tripos or speech pronounced by a Terra-Filius, in c 2 which 20 ESSAY ON THE EAKLIER PART uhich very sarcastick reflections were made, and gross abuse poured, on some members of the University ^ and that its reputed author was punished with a se- verity which would almost justify the assertion, that he had been expelled for it. And so far this anec- dote is certain truth. The entries relative to it, which I find in the registry, are these : 1688, July 13. "It was ordered that Sir Jones should be deprived of his degree, for false and scan- dalous reflections in his Tripos." 1688, July 19. " Ordered by the Vice-Provost and Senior Fellows, that Sir Jones's degradation should be remitted, upon application made to the Provost, and intercession in his behalf; and that he should be sus- pended of the benefit of his Scholar's and Native's place *, and chamber." And I do not find any mention made of punish- ment ever inflicted for the like offence, except the above-recited, and this one which I proceed to state ; which having long preceded the times that Swift and his cotemporaries spent in college, could therefore never have been the one alluded to by the chum of Swift or the informer of Richardson. 1080, July 1 5. " Ordered then by the Provost and Fellows, that Mr. George Finglas shall make a con- fession, and absent himself from the college, for his abuses in his tripos speeches : which punishment if he do not submit to^ he shall be expelled from the college." * In the College of Dublin there are seventy Scholars on tlie foundation, of whom thirty are termed Natives, or Hibernici j and to encourage the natives of the country to resort to this col- Ie<^e, and receive their eduration there, a more liberal allowance is made to them. This is called a Native's place. Beside 'OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. ' (2l Beside these two, there is not the least mention made of any censure ever inflicted for irrcgulaiities of this kind : and as that of July ] 660, could not pos- sibly be the one that gave ground to the person from whom Richardson derived his information, to com- municate to him such an anecdote, I must conclude that the occurrence, which happened in 1688, shortly before Swift's punishment and leavmg of the college, is that alluded to. And I further observe, that the Buttery Book and Registry both concur and ascertain the person who sustained the censure ; that he was the person who was in the same class, and under the same tutor, with the two Swifts. Warranted then as we are by the assertion of Richardson's friend, let us make this hypothesis : that Jonathan Swift was the true and real, though secret, author of that production which so greatly incensed the Heads of the University ; that Jones was the reputed ostensible and nominal author ; and let us see by what arguments such an hypothesis can be maintained. Now these arguments will be either external or internal ; that is, derived either from a connexion and intimacy subsisting between Jones and Swift, both before and after the misfortune that befel the former : or from consideration of the work itself, the Tripos, from finding therein passages corresponding to the undoubted and genuine productions of Swift, and bearing, if I may so say, the stamp of his genius and talents. And such conclusions will be strengthened by re- flecting that Jones never produced any thing that we know of, corresponding to such a beginning : and by recollecting that it was the well-known practice of a Swift 21 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Swift to send his javenile productions into the worlds without pienxing his own name. Let us then first take a review of the external evidence, which may tend to shew whether our sus- picions he well or ill founded ; and for this purpose assemble all the facts we can collect, relative to Mr. John Jones. And first: — From the Senior Lecturer's hook } find, that between the years 1690 and 1713, a person of the name of John Jones did keep a very flourishing school in Dubhn, from which more students were ad- mitted into the college than from any other ; the first entered being on the 7 th of August, 1690, and the last on 28 February, I7 n-1'2 :— that this person is styled Dr.Jones in theSeniorLecturer'sbook perpetually, after 10 July, 1700, as he was continually stiled Mr. Jones previous to the Shrovetide that preceded it ; and is sometimes stiled Dr. Jones in the time. between that Shrovetide and the succeeding July. Secondly, I find from the Registry, that in Shrove- tide 1 700, the grace of the house for D.D. was con- ferred on a person of the name of Jones ; and that such person did, on or about July 1 700, take the de- gree of D.D. From these two premises I conclude, that the per- son who taught the school, and the person wlio took the deo-ree, were one and the same : and when we consider that the number of those who commence Doctors in Divinity (the members of the college excepted) is extremely few, and the concurrence of the times and names, I have no doubt of the truth of the conclusion. I further conclude, that the person who com- jnenced P=D. in July 1700, was the person who en- tered OP THE LI OF SWIFT. 13 tered college on 1 May, l682. For the class of this latter person had commenced its academical standing from July 8, l68 I, and therefore on July 8, 1/00, nineteen years were completed ; and immedi- ately after Jones entered into his twentieth year of academic standing. He therefore was capable at that time of commencing D.D. in case the College had pleased to confer the degree : and there can be no doubt, but it would have done so ; because it did the very same thing in the case of Peter Browne, afterwards Bishop of Corke, who was in this very class, and commenced in like manner in 1700. Now if these two conclusions be both true, it fol- lows as a conclusion from them both, taken as pre- mises and compared together, that Jone^ the school- master and Jones who was in Swift's class, and was puni.^hed for pronouncing the Tripos, were one and the same person. Thirdly, the Tripos is taken from a Miscellany, in three vols. 4to, in MS. in the College library. Thi^i Miscellany is cdled " The Whimsical Medley ;" con- tains much that was published or written in the reigns of William, Anne, and George the First; but nothing posterior to the year 1/23, that I can find. And it appears to have been composed by (or for the use of) Theophilus, first Lord Newtown Butler, who died in that year ; and who had been in the college at the very time the Tripos was delivered. In this Miscel- lany the Tripos is attributed to " Mr. Juhn Jones, then A.B., since D.D." — Now upon searching the Registry I find no person between the years 1700 and 1723 to have taken the degree of D.D., that was of the name of Jones, except the one in 1/00: and 24 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART and to have begun my researches before 1 700 would have been useless, on account of want of standing. — It is therefore plain that tb.e author (real or reputed) of the Tripos, and the person who commenced D.D. in 1700, are one and the same person. And there- fore he is also the same person with Swift's class- fellow, and with the person who taught a school in Dublin in the times above specified. We should next consider what proof may be af- forded to us, independent of the college records, to shew that a school was taught in Dublin in the very times I have mentioned, and that by a Doctor Jones. — Such proof I find in Chetwood's History of the Stage, in the life of Mr. James Quin, the celebrated actor. His words are, (p. 213,) '^ Mr. James Quin was educated under the care of Doctor Jones, of Dublin, a person cm.inent for learning, till the death of his father in the year 17 10." And in the Dublin Gazette of October 28, 1707, No. 263, ^and some following numbers, is this adver- tisement : " On Thursday, 20th November, those gentlemxn ^^•ho have been scholars to Dr. Jones, are desired to meet at his houfe, thence to go to St. Bridget's Church, where vvl.!l be a sermon preached by Mr. Howard, one of the fellows of T. C. D., and from thence to attend the stewards to dinner." Fourthly. Let us next see what further informa- tion the Senior Lecturer's Book can supply to us, respecting this Doctor Jones. From it I learn that two persons, both sons of Counsellor Godwin Swift, and consequently both couBins to Jonathan Swift, were admitted into college as pupils of William Tis- dall, the well-known friend of Swift, and from this very school : the one of them was Meade Swift, aged fifteen. OF TliE LIFE OF SWIFT. 25 fifteen, achnitted 6 October 1698; the other Mi> chael, aged 15, admitted 25 March, 1/00. Doctor Jones ap[)ears also as schoohiiaster to one Abraham Swift, son of Abrahainj (whether of the Dean's family I know not,) admitted under Dr. Hall, 5 September, 1702. And to mention no more, Thomas Sheridan, Swift's great friend in the latter part of his life, was educated under this very man, and thence admitted into college, 8 October, 1707. — In short, no person certainly known to be of Swift's family, was admitted into college, so far as I can judge, during the time that Jones taught a school, who had not received his previous education from Jones. These facts may serve to shew us on what footing of friendship and intimacy Jones and Switt lived to- gether, after they had ceased to be class-fellows and acquaintance in the college : and the circumstances of their being cotemporaries in college in the same class, under the same tutor, taking their de- grees at the same time, and leaving college nearly at the same time, will not permit us to doubt that they were well acquainted while they were members of it. l^his then forms what I term the external evidence ; whose force chiefly consists in the support it receives from the anecdote furnished by Rich« ardson. But is it not likely that we should find some pas- sage or passages in Swift's writings, in which this very person would be mentioned by name? and is it not to be expected, that in some of his numerous letters written to his friends, he should make some friendly inquiries about Jones ? I answer ; it appears to nie, that he has so done in a letter of his to \V'\\- liam 26 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART liarn Tisdall, dated 3 February, 1703-4*. His words are: " My humble service to dean Ryves, Dilly, Jones, and other friends." The Editor, in a note, it is true, suppo9;es this latter to be a Dean Jones, mentioned in Dr. William King's Works, vol. ii. p. 250, because he knew no other Jones : but is, as I think, mistaken tlierein-f-. For that person was a non-juror; whereas John Jones took the degrees ©f A.M. in 1691, or 1692, and D.D. in ] 7uO, and must have taken the oaths prescribed by act of par- liament on both occasions ; he therefore was not the same with Jones mentioned by King. — And if we should admit that Jones is mentioned in no other place by Swift, yet this cannot be a matter of sur- prise or ground of objection ; beca'use but little of Swift's life or correspondence, previous to 1/10, has reached us ; and because Swift did not permanently reside in Ireland until after tb.e Queen's decease, pre- viously to which event Jones, from what cause I know naty had ceased keeping school ; and when either death might have dissolved, or change pf party broke off, the muLual ties of friendship that united them, |Slow we have proof that Sv^ifc knew the one Jones ; tliat this last was different from the Dean Jones ; and no proof that I know, that Swift knew this latter : licrxe 1 believe the person mentioned in the letter to be John Jone"^. 1 he next thing I proposed to consider was the in- ternal evider>ce, or that which a careful and attentive perusal of the piece itself would suggest to every reader who had studied the genuine and undoubteci * See vol. X. p. 41. I This i& very probable. N. productions OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 27 prociuctloiis of Swift. The proofs of this kind which have occuiTcd to me, I have here collected in one view ; and believe that to those who are better ac- quainted with his style and composition, than I can pretend to be, many more will present themselves. 1 . The Tripos is a piece that argues its author to have been a person who held abstract science in little estimation, such as logic and mathematics. It i)e- gins thus : "■ Occidit mlseros crambe repetita maglstros. '' Youi probabOf probaho, is as dull as a Trinity Sunday Sernicn." Now to understand this exordium rightly, we ought to conceive that these words contain a tacit reference to, and reprehension of, the modes of logical disputation, in which the expressions, prohaho aliter^ did frequently recur, and are the crambe here com- plained of: and further, that previous to the deli- very of this speech, such disputations in logic had been held. A similar contempt for logic occurs at the end of the first act : and the little repute the wri- ter held mathematics in, is perceivable in the first two scenes of the third act. — Nor can we pass over the expression — -^ as dull as a Trinity Sunday Sermon," when we recollect that Swift has a ^rmon fitted for that day : and consider the manner in which he has treated that subject, from which it seems that he thought all inquiries on such abstruse points super- fluous and unnecessary. 2. Nor is his aversion restrained to science only. The author of the Tripos lashes with his satire vir- tuosi of all descriptions ; nor are Freemasons ex- empted from the severity of his censure. — Such pas- sages bear evident indications of the hand of Swift: by whom abstract science v/as ever h'.ld in contempt ; ■whose 28 ESSAY 0^' THE EARLIER PART wliose voyage to Laputa is one continued censure of all kinds of projectors ; and who has written a letter on the very subject of Freemasonry, printed in his works. In this letter he compares certain Hebrew letters to a gallows, and speaks of Freemasons to be hanged thereon : as in the Tripos, the author gives the elegy of Ridley, a Freemason hanged. 6. The zeal which Swift ever entertained ao-ainst o fanatics and innovators in Church and State, and for which he was so remarkable, is visible in like manner, in the author of the Tripos. See what this latter says of Colonel John Hevvson^, whom he calls the blind cobler. 4, Bat nothing is more observable in the true and imdisputed productions of Swift, than the pains which he seems to take in raking together the most nauseous ideas, and dwelling upon the most indelicate images. It is unnecessary for me to bring examples of this strange propensity of his nature ; which is the more serviceable to us, because he is almost singular in this respect, and it Ibrms the strong outline tliat dis- tinguishes Irim from almost every other writer. In a pamphlet which came out in 1704 at London, called " Some Remarks on the Tale of a Tub," he is thus described : '•^ TheiVuthor's first aim is to be profane; but that part I shall leave to my betters, since matters of such a nature are not to be jested with, but pu- nished. The second is, to show how great a profi- cient he is at hectoring and bullying, at ranting and roaring, and especially at cursing and swearing. His third is, to exceed all bounds of modesty. His next is, a great affectation for every thing nasty. He takes the air upon dunghills, in ditches, and in common sewers, and at my Lord Mayor's dog-kennel. By the Of THE LIFE or SWIFT. ^() llie first of these, he sliews his religion, by the second liis conversation, by the third his nianners, and by the fourth his education. Now were the crow who at present struts so much in the gutter, stripped of these four sorts of feathers, he would be left quite j naked." Now the Tripos furnishes no mean specimens of the same talents. See the description given of a college steward, wherein one passage can only be paralleled for filthiness with the Latly's Dressing- room, or the poem of Strephon and Chloe, or the character Swift gives of Primate M — h ; in all which tlie same filth occurs. — See also the place where tiie author undertakes to describe the breeches of the in- famous Barnard Doyle, Swift, it is also observable, frequently unites images that have no natural connection with each other, and makes quick transitions from one to another. Com- pare an instance in the beginning of the tenth chaj)- ter of the Voyage to theHouyhnhnms, with a parallel passage in the Tripos ; wherein he describes the per- sons who are to compose a society of Freemasons that was about to be introduced into a college, whicii vv-as to be newly erected. 5. Resemblances are not wanting between particu- lar passages in the Tripos, and others taken from the works of Swift;, where the imitation is too strong and the teatures too prominent to be the effect of chance. — Thus, the foundation of the Tale of a Tub is laid in the testamentary disposition of a father, whereby he bequeaths three coats among his three sons ; now the second act of the Tripos begins in like manner with a disposition of iier property, by the last will and testament of a lady, Mrs. Mary Hevvitson; 30 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART* Hevvitson ; and the author thence takes the oppor* tunity of introdudng his satire, and making it the vehicle of his abuse. — Compare what Swift says in the Tale of a Tub, section second, concerning the taylor and the animal, the delight of the monkey ; with a corresponding passage in the Tripos, concern- ing the monkey tliat devoured Doyle's breeches. — I may add, that the author of the Tripos, when he gives the character of a college stev/ard, makes the doctrine of transubstantiation the object of his ridi- cule ; and we know that satire on that doctrine forms a leading part of the Tale of a Tub. 6. How much Swift delighted in the composition, of barbarous Latin, is sufficiently evident from the correspondence that passed between him and Sheri- dan ; now the same affectation of writing in barbarous Latin, is every where discernible through the Tripos, but especially towards the conclusion of the first act. 7. The same person wb.o in November, 1688, was treated insolently by Swift and his associates, Mr. Owen Lloyd, is also the subject of gross abuse in the Tripos. 8. But the poetical part of the Tripos is that which to me seems, much more than the prose, to breathe the spirit of Swift, and to bear evident marks of his very peculiar mode of writing. The lines upon Mr. Weaver and Mr. Ridley, seem entirely composed in his manner : w^hich is the more remarkable, be- cause the earliest of his known productions, his Odes and Pindarics, bear no similitude to those later com- positions in the light and humoroivs style, which have raised his character so high. And here I may be allowed to obser\'e, that the aversion the author of the Tripos expresses towards a fop, in the character of OF THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 31 ©f Mr. Weaver, accords well with what we know of Swift, especially with an anecdote related of him and Faulkner ; to whom dressed out first as a beau, with a laced waistcoat, and afterwards as an humble prin- ter, he is recorded to have given very different re- ceptions. And further : when we read in the Tripos, the metamorphosis of the Fellows into trees, it can- not fail to remind us of Swift's tale of Baucis and Philemon turned into yews. And that Swift was used to copy from himself, and in his later productions sometimes to pursue the ideas he had adopted in his more early years, we may see, by comparing the Discourse on the Operations of the Spirit, printed at the end of the tale op a tub, with hrs Poem, called petiiox the great. Ot what he says there of Hermes's Rod, in the story he tells of the Banbury Saint, he afterwards gave a striking imitation in the passage extracted from Pe-- thox, and thus beginning : ■" How fam'd thy conduct in the fight " WitJi Hermes, son of Pleias bright/' &c. As I have had frequent occasion to refer to the Tale of a Tub, the following pai ticulars relative to that extraordinary piece, which are found in pam- phlets published about those times, may perliaps not be uninteresting. From one of these, cntitled; ^* Some Remarks on the Tale of a Tub ; to which are annexed, Mully of Mountown, and Orpheus and Euridice : by the author of the Journey to London *, Lond. 1704," — I have already given an extract. I have only to add, that in the Preface, the publisher tells the reader, that he has authority from the author of Mully of Mountown to say, " Thit he • Dr. William King. N. 32 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER ?ART had no hand In \vi iting " The Tale of a Tub." He happened one day to discourse more largely tlian or- dinarily of that book with one of his friends, and found the following remarks the next morning laid upon his table." From these remarks I gave the former extract ; and add this : *' The author^ by the oaths, should rather be an Irish evidence. Another cries, What if after ail it should be a parson ; for who may make more free with their trade ? What if I know him, describe him, name him, and how he and his friends talk of it, admire it, are proud of it?" Another pamphlet is entitled, " Miscellanies, by Dr. Jonathan Swift ; viz. Meditation upon a Broom- stick, Baucis and Philemon, Petition of Mrs. Harris, To Mrs. Biddy Floyd, History of Vanbrugh's House: to all which is prefixed, A complete Key to the Tale of a Tub." London, printed for E. Curll, 17 U. At the end is this advertisement, " Speedily will be published, some other Pieces relating to the last sub- ject herein mentioned ;" which last subject is Van- brugh's House. In this pamphlet, the Tale is ascribed on general reputation only, to " Thomas and Jonathan Swift, who composed it in l6y7, having been domestic chaplains to Sir W. Temple, and therefore thought them.selves obliged to take up his quarrel. Thomas began a defence of Sir William, under the title of a Tale of a Tub, under which he intended to couch the general history of Christianity. His aim is to ridicule the stubborn errors of the Romish Church, and the humours of the fanatic party. He designed to shew the purity of the Christian Church in primi- tive times ; and consequently how weakly and par- tially OP THE LIFE OP SWIPT. 33 tially Mr. Wotton passed his judgement in preferring the modern divinity before the ancient. But his companion Jonathan, borrowing the MS. to peruse, carried it witli him to Ireland, and having kept it seven years, at last published it imperfect." — The parts of the book are in this pamphlet thus allotted i to them. To Jonathan : The Dedication to Lord Somers, Preface, Epistle to Prince Posterity, and the Four Di- gressions ; 1. On Critics. 2. In the Modern Kind. 3. On Digressions. 4. In Praise of Madness. — Also, the Battle of the Books. To Thomas : The Tale of a Tub, and the Frag- ment on the Mechanical Operations of the Spirit. Concerning these pretensions of Thomas, see Swift's Works, [l808, vol. ii. p. l6s.] One of the annotations in this pamphlet I shall mention, both because it is not noticed in the editions of the Tale, that I have seen ; and because the alle- gory of Swift is not explained there or any where else, that I know of. It relates to the two monsters, Camelion and Moulinavent, which are mentioned in the Tale, section viii. as sworn enemies of the JEo- lists. The pau)phlet thus explains them : " The CAMELION is the priest, who denies inspiration; and the Infidel, who argues against such a thing as a Deity, from his shuffling and turning every way that will make for his argument, is here represented by MouLixVAVEXT." This explanation appears to me to labour under great difficulties : first, that it does not distinguish between the two monsters ; for the Priest who denies inspiration, and the Infidel who argues against a Deity and therefore against inspira- tion, appear. to me not to be different, but the same : D and 34 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART and however they may difter in name, to agree in reality. Secondly, That no reason is assigned, why these monsters should be iworn foes to the ^olists only, and not to Christians of every denomination. My solution of the allegory is, that by ca- MELiox and moulinavent, are understood the Church and State ; that is, the Episcopal Church of England by law established, and the Monarchy. The union between these two has ever been held inseparable ; and it was the well-known assertion of an English Prince, " No King, no Bishop." Against these two, all iEolists (that is, sectaries of every de- scription) have ever oj^posed themselves, and waged incessant war : and though tliey destroyed the Mo- narchy for a time in the reign of the First Charles, when the Church fell with it, yet in the reign of Charles the Second both revived, and the sectaries received many violent blows from the Monarchy. Moulinavent has four arms ; these are the four sceptres (of England^ Scotland, France and Ireland), issuing from the centre of the coin, and including the arms of those kingdoms. A windmill (which is what the word muulin d vent means) is a proper image of the State or Monarchy, whose condition is subject to much alteration and many vicissitudes. — As for the Camelion, it is an animal that lives upon air, and refunds no part of it by eructation. This is the image of the Church of England ; whose articles acknowledge the inspiration of Holy Scripture, whilst its members make no pretences to supernatural powers, or to the possession of inspiration in them- selves, but have an established Liturgy and set form of prayer, and do not make use of extemporaneous praying and preaching, here called Eructations. This Church OF THE LIFE OF SV.-IFT. 35 Church Dryclen had rei)resented under the imnge of a panther ; and Swift (in imitation of hira I suppose) compares it to a camcHon. But further ; the came- Hon hves upon air, and varies his colours according as the objects that surround liim vary : and will not this be a just representation of those ecclesiastics (if there be any such) who exist on the promises of the great, and rise to power by complying with their va- riable humours ? In the same work, Swift attributes to Lord Peter, a powder, which he calls Pimperlimping [vol. ii. p. 275, sect. iv.J : relative to this I find in a pamphlet published about 169O, and called, a Dialogue between Dr. Sherlock, the King of France, the Great Turk, and Dr. Oates, the following passage : " This famous Doctor (Sherlock) plays the Merry Andrew with the world, and like the Powder of Pimper le Pimp, turns up what trump the Knave of Clubs calls for." But that I may return to my subject ; — we are led to give small credit to what the famous Dean of St. Patrick's related, when his recollection of the past was much impaired, concerning the earlier events of his life, when we consider what he himself asserted about iha Testimonium which he received from the col- lege of Dublin. Mr. Deane Swift positively affirms (p. 30.) on the Dean's own authority, " that the University of Oxford misconceived the meaning of the expression in it, '* speciali gratia :" and yet when he afterwards produces a copy of the Testimonium (p. 43), he finds no such expressions in it, and feels no small difficulty in defending the veracity of his relation. He ascribes to the friendship of the col- lege the omission ; whereas there was no friendshij) practised, or compliment intended ; and the College D 2 only 36 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART only pursued the conduct always adopted on such occasions *. On this point therefore it is impossible to defend the veracity of either Swift or his biogra- pher, or to vindicate them from the imputation of mis- take. But, if he could be mistaken in this point, I think the inference warranted — that he might be equally mistaken with respect to transactions in the college, that were still further removed from the times when he conversed with Mr. Deane Swift on those subjects ; and therefore that we cannot impli- citly depend on his own representations ; much less can we argue, from what is merely silence in him, against the conclusions deducible from authentic do- cuments, whose testimonies do mutually confirm each other. From Swift himself let us now turn our eyes to those who have described his life and actions ; and one fact which I proceed to relate will shew us what little care thev have used to procure information as to the earlier part of his life. None of them men- tions the fact that he was a prebendary in St. Pa- trick's -{-, and enjoyed that dignity with the livings of Laracor and Rathbeggin : and yet that this was the case plainly appears from his own letters. I am pos- * The University of Dublin could never have inserted th? \vords — per specialan grafiam — in any Testimonium, because all tliat is certified in such an instalment is only the mere fact of taking the degree, under the circumstances required by the cus- toms of the ci-llege and the laws of the land. — I may add, that the above statement not only disproves Lord Orrery's idle sugges- tion, that the learned University of Oxford mistook the meaning of these expressions, but also decisively shews that there is no ground whatsoever for Dr. Hawkesworth's conjecture, that probably by the influence of Swift's uncle, thesB disgraceful vv^ords " were omitted in the copy which he procured, and sent [to Oxford.]" i This fact was not wholly unnoticed j see vol. II. p. 50. N. sessed OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 3? sessed of the presentation copy of the third volume of Temple's Miscellanies, (said in the title to be published by Jonathan Swift, A.M. Prebendary of St. Patrick's, London, l70i), which he himself pre- sented to Primate Marsh. He has written in it this address : To the most Reverend Narcissus Lord Archbishop of Dublin, and one of the Lords Justices of Ireland ; By his Grace's most obedient, and most obliged humble servant, The Publisher. Having applied to the Dean of St. Patrick's to learn the name of the Prebend, 1 understood from him that it was Dunlavin ; that Swift was presented to it by Narcissus Archbishop of Dublin, on 28 September, I70O; and installed on 22 October, and that it had become vacant by the resignation of Dr. John Bolton. His patent for the prebend of Kilroot, in the diocese of Connor, vacant by the deprivation of William Milne, bears date 28 January, in the sixth year of William [l 694-5] ; and that to the vicarage of Laracor and rectory of Aghir, in the diocese of Meath, vacant by the cession of John Bolton, D.D. on the 20th of February [-l-«-9-B-], in the twelfth year of the same reign. And as the accounts which he himself and his bio- graphers deliver of the earlier transactions of his life appear thus defective, it may not be unuseful to consi- der whence these imperfections appear to have arisen ; aiKi 1/ 38 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART and what may have been the causes why the world has been so httle acquainted as to some of his earliest pro- ductions, such as the Tripos, he. Now these appear to me reducible to the following heads : 1st. To the confusion of the times that immedi- ately succeeded. 2dly. To the ITttle notoriety attached to the cha- racter of Swift previous to the year 1 7 ] 0. At that time indeed he commanded the public attention, but it was only for the space of four years. He appear- ed, it is true, a comet in the political world ; but his duration was almost equally short-lived. With the administration of Lord Oxford he set, and lost all hopes of ever rising to political consequence : he was forgotten by one party, and was so much detested by that which had supplanted them, that he was the object of their persecution for above tep years, 3diy. To the silence which Swift preserved on this topick, and which is the more remarkable, be^ cause he never failed to enlarge on the imaginary disgrace that accompanied the taking of his de^ gree. 4thly. To develope these truths, a concurrence of circumstances was necessary, which could scarcely be hoped to be ever met with in the same person. For instance ; it was necessary to be acquainted with the facts related by Richardson ; with the work called the Tripos; with the connection between Swift and Jones, its reputed author, and with those transactions of Swift and Jones which were only to be discovered froiTi the Registry and Buttery Books ; where the omission of the Christian nfime in the Registry, and the loss of the Junior Buttery Book, seemed to threate^i insuperable difficulties. — On these subjects my in- formation OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 3<) formation was obtained at difiorent times: I had no copy of the Tripos until 1S02 ; knew not the con- nection between Swift and Jones, or their transaction?, before 1 803 ; nor was ncqnainted with the anecdote preserved by Richardson, prior to 1804. 5thly. To his own peculiar conduct vith respect to his writings ; agreeably to which he mc^t generally sent his works into the world, without acknowledg- ing himself as their author. 6thly. To the nature of the composition itself; which, being of the scandalous kind, subjected his friend to a punishment. But who (if even the fear of punishment were removed) could ever derive any plea- sure from the reflection, that he had been tlie author of personality or scandal ? The person who could boast of this, might justly be said to glory in his own shame. Do we not see, from the words at the con- elusion of this very Tripos, that its reputed author was ashamed of his performance ? How much hurtcd then would Swift have felt himself, even at the sus- pieion of his being the author; and how great must have been his unwillingness that it should be attri- buted to him ! an unwillingness that would have been increased, when by the means of such a composition, he found himself accessary to the punishment of his friend. The same imputation, — of their being of a scanda- lous kind, — does not, I ackiiowledge, attach itself to some other pieces of his, which have fallen into my hands, and have been hitherto unnoticed ; and yet we may observe, that the nature of these compositions also did preclude them from being generally known. They are of a desultory kind, written upon the spur of the moment, by an individual at that time ob- scure. 40 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PAPT sciire, (for they were written in his earlier days,) and upon individuals almost equally unknown with him- self: the occasions of them are merely local, and such as the public felt little concern about ; and the most probable supposition we can make is, that their author retained no copies of them, and thus they became lost even to himself. Having thus brought before the reader's view a short account of Swift's academic conduct and behaviour, it will now be necessary to deliver the piece itself, which so strongly attracted the notice of his superiors in the college. And as the names of many of them, and of other members of the college, occur in this per- formance, it will be requisite, for the better under- standing it, to premise some few particulars concern- ing the parties mentioned ; in doing which I have to lament that the scanty materials which have reached me, have rendered it impossible lor me in some cases to do more than to supply names and dates. The Provost at that time was Dr. Robert Hunt- ington : the Senior Fellows were, Dr. Richard Acton, Vice-provost, George Brown, Dive Downes, John Griffith, John Barton, St. George Abhe, and Bene- dict Scroggs. The Junior Fellows were, Patrick son, Reader, Thewks, Smith, Hall, Lloyd, Sayers, Allen, and Hassett. Of these, Griffith was absent by a King's letter, dated 3 July, \()Q7j which gave him leave of absence for two years : this leave expiring in lt)8CJ, and he not returning, the King issued a mandamus in favour of one Arthur Green, to be made a Senior Fellow in his place. The Vice-provost, Dr. Acton, refused to obey, alleging, as I suppose, that Griffith not having OF THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 41 having been deprived, no senior tellcnvship was va- cant. The King, with an armed force, seized on the college, and committed several of its members to prison. Not deterred by this, Dr. Acton presented a remonstrance to the King, against his Majesty's own proceedings, and did actually hold an Election ofOliicersin the college, on 20 Noveii^ber, iCSQ: so that he appears to have recovered the possession of his freehold, as he termed the college in his petition, although surrounded by James's army. By another King's letter, dated 15 March, 1(380-7, Patrickson, a Junior Fellow, had a like ieave of ab- sence granted to him. The other persons alluded to in the Tripos, who were not fellows, are Michael Hewitson, Dudley Loftus, Thomas Weaver, Dean Manby, Archdeacon Bavnard, Bernard Doyle, Dr. Gwithers, Sir Michael Creagh, and several others ; of whom I shall proceed to Hive the best account I have been able to collect. . The first person whom his Satire attacks is the Rev. Michael Hewitson, the last will of whose sister Mary furnishes the subject of tlie second act. He was admitted into college, 18 July, l(3()0, was after- wards elected a scholar, and had a Master of Arts decree, (in which the acts were remitted to him in consequence of his contributing thirty guineas to- wards the college buildings) on '27 February ids 1-2. Shortly afterwards, in ldS4, he Vv'as tenant to the college for the lands of Coolreirmr, in the county of Donec;al, which, it is belie\ ed, are now possessed by some of his descendants. The next person who is addressed, and represented as Doctor Civilis, sed Polyglottus, is probably Dr. Pudley Loftus, who was eminent for his skill in the Oriental 42 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Oriental languages, and contributed his assistance to Bishop Walton's celebrated Polygiott. See an Ac- count of him and his numerous Vv orks in Ware's Writers of Ireland, p. 254 ; wliich confirms the representation given of him here. Mr. Thomas Weaver, the next person (that I can discover) \v]^o incurs Swift's censure, was of a family- settled in the King's or Queen's County. I find several persons of the name of Weaver in the reigns of Charles the Second, and William, and Anne, re- presenting the King's and the Queen's Counties, or places in them, in the Irish House of Commons. One of them enjoyed a lease under the college of the tithes of Moyana and Stradbally, in the year 1668 ; but neglecting to renew it, lost it about the year l6S5. The family probably came into Ireland about 1(350: ior a person of this name was one of the four Commissioners whom the Parliament sent into Ireland at that time, and was by marriage related to Samuel Winter, who came along with them, and was made by Oliver Cromwell, Provost of Dublin College. — The person mentioned in the Tripos ap- pears to have been admitted into the college, 9 No- vember, 1678 ; and on February 25, 1(388, had the grace for A.M., and his exercises were dispensed with. For Peter Manby, Dean of Derry, see Ware's Account of the Writers of Ireland, p. 257. John Baynard was Archdeacon of Connor : having (like Manby) apostati2;ed to the Church of Rome, he resigned his archdeaconry in 1691, to which Philip Mathews (nephew of Lemuel Mathews,) was collated. The antagonist of Manby was William King^ Chancellor of St. Patrick's, and afterwards Archbishop of OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 43 of DuWiii ; censured In the IVipos for tlie inaccuracy of liis Latin stylo. We are now come to the inflimous Bernnnl Doyle, who is the next person censured in the Tripos. He was admitted as a sizar on 14 April, 1678, under the tuition of Richard Acton, at the age of nineteen ; and was born at Athlone. On 1 1 July, l685^he had the orraceof the house for A.M. " perspecialemgratiam." He was usher of the school at Drogheda ; and on the merit of conforming to the religion of James the Second, sought to be admitted to the place of a Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. To this end he presented a mandamus from the King-on February 13, 1687-8, directed to the Provost and Senior Fellows, and dated January 11, l6S7-8 ; which required them to admit the said Doyle to a Fellowship, then vacant (by the cession of Dr. George Mercer, who is men- tioned also in the Tripos), or the first that should- become so, without taking any oath but that of a Fellow. When this oath was tendered to him by them, he refused to take it ; as it was inconsistent with the religion he professed. And it having been represented by the College to the Lord Lieutenant, that Doyle was a person of shameful ignorance and scandalouvS immorality, he was pleased to order the Mayor of Drogheda to take examinations u{)on oath relative to Mr. Doyle's conduct, while usher of that school. For this purpose Mr. Downes, one of the Fellows, went down thither ; and it was proved by exa- minations, taken on the Qth, 10th, and 1 i th of March, that Doyle was guilty of fornication (having had two bastards), drunkenness, theft, and other crimes ; such as violently assaulting and beating various persons. Notwithstanding this representation, Doyle perse- vered 44 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART vered in his applications to Lord Tyrconncn, and spared no kind of scandalous assertions against the college ; but in the mean time Mr. Arthur Hassett procured a mandamus in his own favour, which he presented to the Provost and Fellows on l6 April, 1688 ; and having satisfied them on the points which they proposed to him, he was s\\orn and admitted a Fellow. He is mentioned in the Tripos: as is also Eleanor Wall, who was one of Doyle's mistresses. Sir Michael Creagh was Lord Mayor of Dublin in 1668 ; and represented that city in the Parliament of j68Q. He was Paymaster General of King James's army. Ezekiel Burridge, who is mentioned in the begin- ning of the second act, was elected Scholar in June, l683, commenced A.B, February, 1 683-4, and A.M. July, 1637. He is mentioned by Ware in his Ac- count of the Writers of Ireland ; and by King, in his State of the Protestants. At the Commencement inJuly.l68S, when this Tripos was pronounced, I find that the undernamed persons took the following degrees ; to all of whom allusions are made in it. Mr. William King (afterwards Archbishop of Dublin), B.D. and D.D. Mr. Charles Gwithers, M.D. ; — and Jeremy Marsh, Alexander Jephson, Tho- mas Cox, Richard Barry, William Tirrell, Allen Mad- dison, William Warren, Jo. Travers, &c. were admit- ted to the degree of A.M. Jephson was afterwards a clergyman, and had the school of Camberwell : he and Gwithers and several others were censured on various occasions by the Board; as was also Nich. Knight, whose name oc- curs in this Tripos. — At the same time appear on the books OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 45 books of the Battery, among the resident Doctors and Masters, the names of Dr. Foy (who had been a Senior Fellow, but, like Foley, had resigned), Dr. Gwithers, Mr, Napper, Mr. Jephson, Mr. Cox, Mr. Terrill, and Mr. Delauny. The other names occur- ring in the Tripos are all names of persons who had been students in the College, but at that time some of them had left it. — We also may find some of the names occurring in King's State of the Protestants, such as that of Dean Glandee, a person of abilities, but whose character has been reproached with the imputation of immorality. — ^The Butler of the col- lege (or Promus) who is satyrized in the latter part of the first act, was Mr. Andrew Donnell, called there Daniel : from the Senior Lecturer's Book it appears, that his son was admitted a pupil under Mr. Smith, a few days before the Tripos was delivered ; in which mention of his familiarity with JMi'. Smith is made. Having thus endeavoured to make the reader ac- quainted v.'ith the several characters mentioned in the Tripos, I proceed to deliver the composition itself; as preserved to us in the MS. of Theophilus, Lord Newtov.n Butler, a nobleman, who, with his brother Brinsley (afterwards Viscount Lcinesborough,) was admitted into Trinity College on the 27th of Septem- ber;, 1686, almost two vears before Jones's censure. 46 ESSAY OX THE feARLlER PART A TRIPOS, Or Speech, delivered at a Commencement in the University of Dublin, (held there, July U, 1688,) by Mr. John Jones, then A.B. afterwards D.D. ACT I. Occidit miseros crambe repetita magistros. Your prohabo, profjcibo, is as dull as a Trinity Sunday sermon. Dii boni, quas novas aves hie video I Tot habemus barbaros ignoramos et foppos ; tot doctores indoctos, rummos academicos, cives aldermanicos, rusticos personas, and so many pretty, pretty little rogues, that, should I speak Latin, I should batiter ten parts of the company. Wherefore, for the sake of the ladies, bullies, the Rums * and Fellow-Commoners, I'll order it, (as I know you all would have it,) that the English be ten to one against the Roman. Lenite clamorem, till I shew these gentlemen the civilities of the house. Non temere decct quidem ut salutemus libenter. Salvete igitur quotquot reverenda vel ridicula, docta vel rummosa capita ; sed imprimis salvus sit Doctor Acton, (ut inquit Erasmus) athletice : superannuati omnes salvi sint pancratice : et, si qui adsint cornuti, quod verisimile est, valeant taurice ; deinde si quis adsit medicus immedicabilis, qui skulkat subter id manticoc, quod in tcrgo est, docto in cujus capita iEsculapius viget, sed in ossibus dominatus astrono- mic) et eflasto corpore totus inhccret Galenus et Hip- * Mr. Sheridan, in the Life of Swift, has given us Swift's translation of the line — Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque toga- tam: whence we may learn that the term, uuii, was familiar to that writer, in the sense here used, pocratcs. t>F THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 47 pocrates, si possibile sit, inquam, valeat ille ; sed prae CiEteris clericum istum clericorum snlvere jubco, who preaches in an oven, and is of the same name and iieraklry with an eminent blind coblcr, who, when the kingdom was all out of the stitches, vampt him- self a colonel ; if his gravity be here, I salute him fur seven several reasons. First, because he drinks and goes to the boghouse for fourteen reasons ; but cannot give one for selling his organs to a mass-house. Secondly, Because (according to his own phrase) he preaches by the London standai-d, which never lessenedj as I know of, but thrice ; and then Stilling- fleet and Tillotson themselves were not one jot better or worse, unless we say with the poet, Scd malii dum recitas^ incipit esse tuus. Thirdly, Because when he came from England, he wore as much silk for a doul>l[et as made his sister (joy be with her, as he said) a mantcau and petticoat. Quere, whether then Mr. Piirson wore the breast- plate of righteousness ? It is plain he did, and that his intentions were honourable, for the next Sunday fol- lowing he preached, — Give Caesar his due. It is ill- nature then in Banbury's wife's husband to revile him for this; and, to speak in the phrase of a pretty little Senior Fellow, There's no Jew but would be more gentle. Fourthly, Because he consecrates as much water at once, as makes Christians for a month. Fifthly, Because he invited to his sifter's /uneral none but (as he was pleased to call them) the cream of the parish ; viz. those that kept coaches. Now himself upon himself: his conclusion in such a case will be thus, That all the curds and cream in the pa- rish 48 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART rish tour it in coaches, while the poor skim-milk and bonny-clobber trudge a-foot. I wonder, Mr. Leeson, with his cream of Theology, is not his parishioner. There is a mess for the Freshmen. But, Sixthly, Because he lives by the Canon, and yet corrects the Kubrick. Seventhly and lastly, Because he made himself a large and ponderous night-cap, after tlie exact model of his church ; and this he did for two reasons. First, to shew that no noddle in the diocese could bear such a weight as his. Secondly, to cure a dis- temper, which, to the grief of his congregation, has troubled his brains these many years. Sed ad rem. Salvus sit ille inter socios juniores cum pede brevi et naso rhinoccrotis, who by his own sermon of ancrles and triangles has thrice shown his smattering in the mathematics. Valeat etiam Doctor ille Civi- lis, sed Polygamista, edentulus sed Polyglottus ; qui adeo plenus est Uteris, ut in ipsa facie omnes lingua- rum characteres graphice scribuntur : frustra igitur, reverende doctor, susurrant invidi, te jam senio con- i'ectum orientales linguas non callere, cum revera in- dex tui animi sit vultus. Sed etiam atque etiapi salvus sit purpuralus noster grandiloquus, cui dedit ore rotundo Musa ioqui : Quem quoad faciem et linguam vocamus Ulyssem : Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses. — No Tartar is more fair, no Athenian better hung, Sol varnish'd o'er his face, andMercury his tongue. — quo^d altiludinem salutemus Ajacem, quoad graciii- tatem Tithonum, quoad caput versatile Priamum pa- ralyticum,, quoad pedes Achillcm, quoad crura deiii- que, ColossLun. Sponte sua nroperant, labor est inhibere volentes. '2 Anglice, OP TI^^ LIFE OF SWIFT, ,-^ Angiice, • ,_■ , ' . With aukward gQvvn tuck'4 up., l^^wvyp'r^. along, And at each stride measures a parasang. Inter csuteros, peeuliari dignus est salutatione bellus quidam homunculus; I do not mean Mr. Bra- dy's pretty little man, but the neat, spruce, dapj)er, finical, nice, spark, who'd rather sing and dance in his chamber, than bowl without an umbrella : who constantly carries as many patch-boxes in his pocket, as would beautify our beadle ; as many several sorts of snuff; as would furnish Major-General Macparty and Colonel Dempsy for a year, and as much essence as would perfume Sir Stampe's chamber ; as many comfits as would sweeten Mr. Travers's hucksters ; together with as many jewels as would make Sir Jeph- son a gentleman, or buy Mr. Delauny a coat of arms. Besides ; he has such a veneration for the fair sex, that he would not presume to visit a lady in a shirt he had worn a day, but by way of apology sent her this billet-doux : I'gad, Madam, I beg your pardon ten thousand times for not paying my devoir to your ladyship to- day : of which transcendent happiness nothing under the planets could have deprived me, but the damned disappointment of my sempstress, by whose neglect I have at present but seven day-shirts: by which means I am unprovided with linen, and so rendered utterly incapable of attending yoiir ladyship now : but as soon as my dress is agreeable, 1 fly with the wings of duty and obedience to implore your lady- ship's mercy for my unfortunate absence, and will ever snatch at all opportunities of manifesting myself. Madam, your Ladyship's most humble and devoted Slave, to the stars, or centre, Tommy Weaver. E O cura3 30 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART O curas hominum, O quantum est in rebus inane. Ipsissimum hunc homuncionem hoc in epi- grammate notat Martialis : Cotile, bellus homo es, &c. Anglic^, There's scarce a well-drest coxcomb, but will own Tommy's the prettiest spark about the town. This all the tribe of fringe and feather say. Because he nicely moves by Algebra ; And does with method tie his cravat string, Takes snufF with art, and shows his sparkling ring : Can set his foretop, manage well his wig, Can act a proverb, and can dance a jig ; Does sing French songs; can rhyme, and furnish chat To inquisitive Miss, from Letter or Gazette ; Knows the affair of cockpit and the race. And who were conquerors at either place ; If Crop or Trotter took the prize away. And who a fortune gain'd the other day. He swings fring'd gloves, sees plays, writes billet-doux, Fiird up with beauty, love, oaths, lies, and vows ; Does scent his eyebrows, perfum'd comfits eat. And smells like phoenix' nest, or civet cat ; Does shave with pumice stone, compose his face. And rolls his stockings by a looking-glass. Accomplish'd thus, Tommy, you'll grant, I hope, A pretty spark at least, if not a fop. Finita salutatione, (more Erasmiano) paucis vobis- cum confabulandum est. Sed uti solet graculus ille Maddison, mihi cordi est totum occupare sermonem ; I'll take all the chat to myself. In familiaritatem me nuper exceperunt virtuosi, (hominum genus in minimis non minimiim laborans) et OP THfi LIFE OP SWIPT. 51 et mlhi quacdam naturae noii vulgaria nota fecere i quae humanitatis ergo, et publicae stilutis gratis, in lucem jam profero. First, Mr. Allen's infallible cure for the mawvvorms. R. poti fortis ab hatcho quartum unum ; rowlo- rum, sive brownorum sive alborum, ad minimum tres : his addatur butyri culinaris quantum valet duos denarios, cum bunsho radishorum vel vvatergrassi ; deinde stomachi equini quantum sufficit. Haec om- nia hora octava antemeridiana quotidie devorentuf, et certe vix ad prandium usque latrabit stomachus. Secondly, Dr. Molyneux * his rare discovery of part of the meat's sudden digestion and corruption in the mouth, thus : R. pinquis caponis leggum unum et vvingum^ tosti shouldromotontis et carnis bovinse una slizum unum vel alterum ; anseris juvenilis cum sauso goos- beriano modicum quid ; panis domestici lunsheum moderatum ; vini rubri et poti minoris pocula bina vel tria ; et, quod instar omnium est, foetidissimi spiri- tus quantum sufficit: compressu oris fiat bolus, et proculdubio inter hiatus dentium et super gingivas tarn statim foetida fiat concoctio ; quod primus omnium mortalium, si modo credibile sit, ingenuus notavit ille medicus. Thirdly, The College Butler's admirable invention of selling a mixture of ale and mum for nine-pence per quart : and his water bewitched, viz. small beer and water, for a penny a bottle: likewise his elixir bonse famae, or cure for his first fault. The experi- * Dr. Thomas Molyneux, tlie younger brother of William Mo- lyneux, the correspondent of Mr. Locke, commenced M. D. Jbly, 1687- See an account of him in the Biogr. Eritan. vol. v. p* 3133, note A. edit. 1760. E 2 ment 52 ESSAY ON THE EAKLIEB PART nient of the liquids is wrought by the help of a trap- door at midnight. The elixir is made thus : R. vini rubri flaskum duplex^, Canarii, sive vini Hispanici, amphoram uiiam, vel alteram : academic! et grubbinorum tolemanni quantum sufficit: defe- rantur ad cameram Junioris Decani, quo participante ingurgitentur omnia post nocturnum catalogum. Jf this will not work the effect alone, I refer you to ,his wonderful sympathetick prescription, v/hich is thus : R. the tongue of Mother Jenkinson, alias Ma- dam University, which will soothe the afFectioris of the head of the society. This being done, let the pa- tient dine thrice a week on a national dish ; and if this fail, 'tis an odd thing, nam probatum est. Moreover I recommend to you, Dean Manby's and Archdeacon Baynard's ointment for a warping conscience. Mr. Ohver Talent's * prescription for the worms in the noddle. jj Sir Conolly's new Treatise of Armory, entitled, Ex quovis ligno non fit Mercurius. Madam Dicky Barry's ingenious machine for put- ting on finical bands. Mr. Scroggs's composition of puns. Mr. Griiiiths's approved-of opium matutinum, for soaking. * Mr. Downes's excellent potio coffiana, for expelling ■ soporiferous humours. Priscianus vulneratus, alias, methodus credendi Articulos, by the Rev. Dr. King.'; * Oliver Tallanl, admitted 20 May, l677' Doctor OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 53 Doctor Nappier's * Elegy on a broken Bellarmine.' of Ale, entitled, Amphora non meruit tarn pretiosa mori. ?joCr c,. An excellent engine for working embroidery, by my very good Lv)rd Charleniont. Likewise his Lordship's Praxis Arithmetica, shew- ing thit 24 and 24 make 48 : this, as simple as it seems to be, cost the Honourable Lord some pams, and his hidy some blushes. An infallible unguent for the spleen in the toe, by the Rev. Dr. Foy. And lastly, Mr Smith's Art of Compliance, prov- ing humility to be the practice of the age, and shew- ing how the College Butler may be the dear compa- nion of the Junior Dean. For all which I refer you to the respective authors, except the last, which Mr. Smith proves syllogistically thus : Moris est humilitas, ergo Junior Decanus et Promus Senior possint esse magni. Probo antecedens. Si generosus marmorizat cum puero, Anglice, plays marbles with his boy. Tunc moris est humilitas. Sed generosus marmorizat cum puero. Ergo, &c. Probo minorem instantiam. Magister Savers marmorizat cum puero, Sed magister Sayers est generosus. Ergo, &c. Probo aliter. Si doctissimus, altissimus, necnoii iong^ notissmus * Gerard Xappier, admitted IS July, l6"77.— See a Latin piece in Sw ift's Works, [vol. xvi. p. 2SpJ on this very title, " Amphora non" meruit tarn pretiosa mori." Doctor 54 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Doctor in Universitate scrubbat suas tabulas et bru- shat suas cathedraSj tunc moris est humilitas. Sed talis Doctor scrubbat suas tabulas, &c. Ergo, . Hoc etiam probari potest instantia. But the tall gentleman in the robes would not have it known. Cum itaque, Magister, (te Decanum alloquor) argumentis hisce validis vindicetur tua hu- militas, quid obstat quo minus inter te et Danielum mutua foveatur familiaritas. Ede, bibe, dormi, post mortem nulla voluptas, Namque inter Tanaim nihil est socerumque Viselli. Coach it away then, and empty his pitchers; A lord in Fingall plays tennis with ditchers. Heu, heu, quanti hie desiderantur socci et hand- kerchief], tantum est inter vos clamoris, sudoris : tantum est hogorum, ut piget usque morari. Pergat igitur (ut inquit Dr. Acton) suo modo Dominus Barrv. Sed heus tu, Magister Will-be, sive gra- duate medioxime, Serenissimae Elizabethas dormiant cineres. Not a word of Protestant Bess. ACT 11. Oppon. Dom. Barry. — In tempore veni, quod omnium rerum est primum. Nam vereor, Domine, you are brought as low as Witherington in Chevy Chace, or Mr. Lloyd in the chapel. Ridicula capita 1 inepto risu res ineptior nulla est. Absint joci, (as Sir Jephson said, when he had none,) res seria jam, imo de funeribus, agitur. Muli- ercula enim misella humanissima, nobis vicina, et Magistri Hewetson soror unica, non ita pridem mo- riebatur ; nee amicorum immemor ingrata discessit : sed OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT, 55 sed qnicquid vel corpusculi sui vel rei humane foret usui, hoc supremo testamtnito, amicis suis in formiini subsequentem benigna legavit. The last Will and Testament of Mrs. Mary He wet son. She bequeathed her brains to a learned grave gen- tleman, who has shaked his own out of his noddle ; whose name I was forbid to tell you, but I'll do as good as will, I'll find somebody here, that Amoveate quaeso, amoveate paulisper. Oh ! salve, Magister Burridge ; I remember Tommy Cox told me, your's were addle, and therefore I present them to you, if her brother lays no claim to them. Her tongue (which even after death is the cause of controversy) some affirm she left to Mrs. Horn- castle * : but the true opinion is, she bequeathed it to Mrs. Jenkinson, whose speaking organ (as I told you before) is employed in Mrs. Donnell's Elixir bona3 famae. Her teeth she left to Mrs. Horncastle, who has such an unruly member of her own, that it needs at least a double guard. She bequeathed her hair to Mr. Leeson, to make him a wig. Her coloured silk petticoat, to furnish Mr. De- launy with a pair of breeches ; and her looking-glass and night-rail to my Lady Neddy Hall. Her tooth- pick to Dr. Loftus, and patch-box to Mrs. Lucy Coghill '(-, which so disguised h.er at the Confirma- * A person of this name is mentioned in King's State of the Protestants. f Daughter of Sir John Coghill, and sister to Dr. Marma- duke Coghill. 5 tion 56 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART tidii in St. Werburgh*s Church, that the zealous Archdeacon did tiot know Sir John's daughter ; sed zt\o vere Fitzgeraldino exclamavit, *' My Lord, my Lord, her face is against the Canon : I know not who she is, and I won't present her." Sed, reverende vir, monstrat tibi poeta^, quo pacto agnosceres virginem. Cui nunierosa linunt stellantem splenia frontem^ Ignoras, qn^e sit ? Splenia tolle, leges. But to return ; sh6 left her courageous heart to pretty Mr. Weaver. Her beauty (now you all expect I'll say, — to Sir Bayly and Fitzsimons^^ — no truly, bat) to as worthy a gentleman, the Rev. the Provost : and her con- science to the clerk of the kitchen, of v.'hom (by way of digression *) take this character. A College Steward is an animal mixture, a medley or hodge-podge of butcher and cook, of scullion and scholar. He lives 'J* negatively by the privation of others, and mortifies mOre flesh than all the divines in the kingdom. Did he live among the ancients, he would be taken for a wrestling master, with his skin oiled for the palaestra. Hence it comes to pass, that his greasy shirt pays his laundress, and finds her in soap and candles. Yon may follow him (like the old pyewoman) by his smell. * These digressions, interspersed^ may remind us of the digres- sions in the Tale of a Tub, f The office of College Steward was formerly exercised by a Scholar of the Hoiise^ v, ho was called Clerk of the Kitchen : it is probable that he might derive some advantages from the punish- ment that consisted in depriving delinquents of commons, ^hese advantages axe here alluded to. Strangers OP THE LIFE OF SWIFT. &t Strangers passing by his door take it for the college chandler's : an ignorant woman went there, directed by her nose, to sell her kitchen-stufF. The butchers' dogs fawn upon him, and follow him for his hogoes. Without doubt they fancy he carries a slaughter- house about him. He spends half his salary a-year in wash-balls, fuller's-earth, and socks. The scent of the kitchen has infected his breath, and poisoned his whole mass of blood. What the hyperbolical pOet said of the Cappadocian is verified in him, with- out a trope : Vipera Cappadocem malesana momordit, at ipsa Gustato periit sanguine Cappadocis. Anglice, A famish'd rat, progging one night for food. Bit Mr. Hogoe's toe, and suck'd the blood : Then dull and drooping, the pensive vermin sat, Gorg'd with infectious gore, and pois'ning fat. If he goes to market fasting, he taints all the meat he cheapens ; therefore the butchers, in their own defence, treat him to a breakfast. Every Sunday morning he so stuffs himself, that if you come nigh him, you'll know what is for dinner. Every belch* is a bill of fare ; his bed-fcilow dreams of grubbins all night. One that lay with h?tn by accident, fancied himself at the mouth of an oven, full of tainted mut- ton-pyes. Mr. Butler junior *, who, to stifie his ho- goes, lies in his socks, would match him for a bed- fellow, provided that they lay heads and points. The pestilence of the head vvould be requited by the * This reminds us of the author of the Tale of a Tub : who enlarges so much upon the eructations of the /Eohsts. + Pxobabl/ Brinsley Butler^, at tlut time a Student in the college. plague 58 ESS^VY ON THE EARLIER PART plague of the heels. Were he in orders, it would be dangerous for him to baptize ; he would make more ghosts than Christians, and with good words send the sucklings packing to the other world. Were he Doctor in the civil law, his brother would rather not commence than kiss him : be would be as terri- ble as the old gentleman with the rainbow about his eyes. He never says grace before meat, and very good reason ; his victuals, like the Scotchman's snufF, will not bide a blessing : the holy words would transubstantiate them into maggots. The greatest sin he has to struggle with is the flesh ; and (which is wonderful) the oftener he gains the victory, the wickeder he becomes. He thwarts the Kubrick, and makes more Good Fridays than Sundays in the year. When we keep Lent *, he keeps Carnival : and well he may, when other men fast for his sins. He takes upon him to be Deputy Bursar, and is called Mr. Steward ; but by the same figure that the hangman is called the King's officer. In the kitchen he rules the roast, is absolute lord over the cleavemen, half master of the scullions, and partly tutor, partly com- panion, to the cooks : but always sworn brother in iniquity to the clerks of the buttery, which brings me to consider them together in one word, and so have done. When these two meet, (like malevolent planets in conjunction) 'tis ominous, and denotes a dearth in commons and sizings. Nay, sometimes it : -^tells a general punishment. The making of r of these is the spoiling of a scholar ; as a gen- ■nnd 'prentice, forfeits his heraldry, or the '' ^^" way of punishment, are put out of coi-n,- '=•- t ' himself by it. knighthoo4 OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT, SQ knighthood of an alderman spoils a cit. They live plentifully with traffick between themselves^ and yet every day eat and drink their bargains. To conclude; tiiey cast up their sins once a month, but do not re- pent, because their iniquities are confirmed by the Senior Fellows. But to return to the Will. She bequeathed her breasts to Mrs. Mary C — 11 *, of whom hear the poet t Mammas atque tatas habct Afra : sed ipsa tatarum Dici et mammarum maxima mamma potest. Her paint she left to one of those ladies ; and her nose she knew not whether to leave to Mr. Loftus or Mr. Lloyd ; but at last ordered it for the former : and out of her great charity gave permission to the latter (I mean Mr. Lloyd) to furnish himself after the Hudibrasian manner with a supplemental snout out of her posteriors. Lastly, she bequeathed all her money for the found- ing and endowment of a new college, and therefore ordered that there be a fair tract of ground purchased out of Jack Cusack's estate, on a convenient part whereof there be erected a stately pile of building after the model of Mr. Allen's mansion-house. That Sir Butler's famous library be bought for the college use, together with Stillingfleet's and Tillotson's Ser- mons for the assistance of the young divines. That Mr. Doyle, for his excellent morals and profound learning, be Provost : and Mr. Boreman •f-, for the same reasons, be Vice-j)rovost. That Nickumbottum * Perhaps, Coghill. + Edward Boreman, admitted 11 June, l6'7S : his narae was ^akcn off the books on 13 October, 1656. be 60 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER Px\RT be University orator ; Sir Stampe, * singing-master and magician ; and that ingenious bachelor of arts who read out al] Gassendus's Astronomy in a week, bat the a's and b's^ if Sir Moore pleases, be mathe- imatick professor : and Dr. Mercer be bursar. Several officers are yet wanting, as divinity professor, preachers^ physicians, lecturers, surgeons, historians, chy mists, civilians, register, linguist, and many others, all which are to be supplied by that colossus of learnings Mr. Foley. Hie vero dubium oritur ; num Dr. Mercer, cum sponsa sua (satis eleganti) inhabitare possit academiam : si negatur, tunc actum est de bursario, qai adeo in- teger yitae, scelerisque purus : si affirmatur, dii boni, quam clamosum necnon rixosum habituri sumus col- legium 1 nam fama refert esse inter illos conjugium conjurgium, quod Martiali parum credibile videtur, ut ex his versiculis constat : Cum sitis similes, paresque vita, UT^or pessima, pessimus maritus, Miror, non bene convenire vobis. It was first ordered that Mr. Lloyd should be the University poet; ferunt autem, Magister, te quondam pe&simumegisse poetastrum, ideoque ■..■:. .^ -.^ mutato nomine, de te ■ " Fabula liarratur. '-{^Si BaVium non odlt, amet tua carmina, Mesvi. — '■' • Naib tUj'Coseon^i, distieha longa facis. -■■ - '"■ - •^''llahcigiturprovineiam habeat Dean Glandefe^ Vet Mr.'tewetson. Ordered moreover, that all the Fellows dine and sup constantly in the hall, uti apud nos moris est. * Timothy Stampe, admitted l6 May, l6SC. Hortemur OP THE liIpE OP SWJPT. ^1 Hortemur etiaip,,, ut Priaepdsitus parcius absit^, and to be stt-ictly observed, that all the students in the hall, especially at mcat'^, speak Latin, as we. do. It was lately ordered, tliat, for the honour and dig- nity of the University, there- should be introduced a society of Freemasons, consisting of gentlemen, reechanicks, porters, parsons, ragmen, hucksters, bai- liffs, divines, tinkers, knights, thatchers, coblers, poets, justices, drawers, beggars, aldermen, paviours, sculls, freshmen, bachelors, scavingers, masters, sow- gelders, doctors, ditchers, pimps, lords, butchers, and taylors, who shall bind themselves by an oath, never to discover their mighty no-secret ; and to relieve whatsoever strolling distressed brethren they meet with, after the example of the fraternity of Free- masons in and about Trinity College ; by v/hom a collection was lately made for, and the purse of cha- rity well stuffed for, a reduced brother, who received their charity as follov/s in this list of benefactors : From Sawny Richardson, a bottle of ale. and two rolls. From Mr. Hassett, a pair of old shoes. .^rom a kind-hearted butcher at Lazy Hill, -a calf's countenance. From the Right Honourable Lord Charlemont, a cast hat. From long Laurence, an inch of tobacco. From Mr. Ryder, a groat. From Dr. Gwithers, an old glister-pipe. From Mr. Marsh and Sir Teniscn, a bundle of godly ballads. * It appears from the Butter}' BookSj that Provost Huntington had generally a non co., and therefore was absent from the hall. 1 From 62 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART From Mr. Smith, an old pair of quilted stockings. - From a tapster at the sign of the Hog in Armour, a comfit. From Sir Goodlet *, a piece of an old Smiglesius for a natural use, cunningly procured by the means of Sir Goodlet. From Sir Warren, for being freemasonized the new way, five shillings. From Mr. Edward Hall -{-, a pair of cast night- gloves. Lastly from Mr. Hancock, a slice of Cheshire cheese; which the hungry brother eat up with such a gusto, and liked so well, that he stole away the rest in his breeches. Tam libera potitus contributione, frater scoun- drellus sarcinulas suas disct^ssurus colligit, et vultu hilari, ori solito, quadrangulum transit ; dumque prae nimio gaudio porrectiore incedit fronte, altioresque tendit gressus, quisnam inter homines obviam dedit illi, nisi frater fraterrimus Cooper J; qui ut fidelem novit hominem, festinatius accurrit, humaniter cor- ripit dextram, utque moris est, spississimo conspuit basio : deinde Bibliothecam versus, comiter ambulant, ut inter caetera admirabilia Ridlaeum § visitent : quem dum hospes curiosis lynceis oculis perscrutatur, et * James Goodlatt was admitted in Februar}^, iGSS-^j elected Scholar in l687. t We must not confound this person with one of the same name among the then junior fellows. 1 his last was Dr. John Hall, whom Swift^ in his Account of Lord Wharton, mentions with approbation. To him the Tripos no where alludes. + I find a person named Nat. Cooper, who with Edward Hall, commenced A.B. in February, 1682-3. § Said to have been an informer against priests, diligentius OP THE LIFE OF SWIPT. ' ^ dillgentius rimatur, quantum homuncionis judices, carniiex, et medici, reliquerunt ; proh dolor, inter partes an nobiliores, an posteriores nescio, privatum fraternitatis notavit signum (Anglice, the Freemasons' mark). Quo viso, Dii boni, quanto clamore'totam infecit domum. Ter et Sicpius pulsavit pectus, ex- sangues dilaniavit genas, et cheu nimium dilaceratas dilaceravit vestes. Tandem vero pauIo modestius insaniens, hujusmodi versiculis ridiculum eftudit dolorem. Eulogium Ridlaeanum. An Elegy upon Ridley, Unhappy brother, what can be -j In wretchedness compar'd to thee, I Thou grief and shame of our society ! j Had we in due time understood That thou wert of the brotherhood, By fraud or force thou had'st got loose From shameful tree and dismal noose ; And now perhaps with life been blest, "J As comely a brother as the best, > Not thus exposed a monumental jest ; 3 When lady longs for college beer, Or little dame or country squire Walk out an afternoon, to look On thee, and devil- raising book; Who kindly rather chose to die, "^ Than blemish our fraternity ; > The first of us e'er hang'd for modesty. j And now, alack and well-a-dny, Thy parchment hide is stuff\l with hay : Nay, worse ; the ^sculapians, Thy mighty misery to enhance, Have cruellv cut thee out of countenance ; ' And, } €4 ESSAY OW THE EARLTfiR VATiV And, to show witty spite, at once Preserv'd thy skin and lost thy bones. Thus here, in wooden hatch you stand. With scornful musket at your hand ; The mice and rats' mock centined, -^y ^-^A poor ridiculous spectacle ' To gibing Joan, to Kate and Nan, Thou worse than skeleton of man.— • So does he measure out his grief^ For loss of brother and of thief. ,;^o,r less conqern'd does Cooper stand ; ■ 'But sobbing with his clout in hand. And destitute of consolation. Kept time with all his tribulation. Their grumbling woe runs thro' and thro* them; If all were known, 'twould quite undo them. The sighs which up and downward go, Their unfeigned sorrow show; For the devil's in't, if they pretend. Who vent their grief at either end. • Hoc munere elaborato, non diutius lacrymls indul- gent, sed dolore police suppresso, taciti discedunt. Pro- tinus lodgum convocant, fratresque omnes certiores faciunt, quantum sibi infamiae, et quantum miseriae in- felicissimoacce'ditfraterculo: graviter luget fraterculus et societas; et suspiriis ex imo pectore.petitis, statim provisum est in posterum, nominem qui crucem me- retur, vel qui suspendendus est, in societatem Free- masonorum admitti : quo authoritate statuto, et aibo lodgi prolato, singuli, tarn generosi quam scoundrelli, sclidissimis basiis promiscue dicunt valedictionem. ACT OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 65 ACT III. Enier a ivaddling Doctor, and his Man, James. Doctor. James, have you read out the chapter> and can you tell how many days* work was the creation ? James. Marry, here's so many hard words, I can*t remember. Doctor. Well, but this is not the business now : you must get things in refidin.css against to-morrow. James. Master, what's the matter with to-morrow, more than another day ? Doctor, (aside.) Oh, the ignorance of those people who are not mathematicians ! I tell you, a superna- tural thing will happen. James, (aside). Oh, oh ! this is the eclipse * now, I warrant. — Nay, master, as you say it, it is as sure as a gun. Then what mun I do, say you ? Doctor. Go to the Steward, and provide double commons ; and be sure you call at the chandler's, for to-morrow I dine by candle-light. James. Oh, the wonderful wonderfulness of you schollards ! — And what mun I bring drink in ? Doctor. A material question : — in the tankard, and do that in the morning. James. Marry, but I had better buy a pitcher, so I had ; and then I need not go so often as I do. This tankard, I wish it were hang'd, so I do. Doctor. What ails you at it ? Why do you grum- ble? * In *' the Art of verifying Dates/' mention is made of an eclipae of the sun, on 5 November, 1()87 : and of another eclipse on 30 April, l6S8. One of them is probably alluded to here. F James, 66 ESSAY ON THE EAliLIfiR PART James. Grumble, quoth-a ? I am sure it wears me more shoe-leather than a little, and I cannot say my prayers in a morning for it, so I can't. Doctor. If I thought it did, you any injury, or con- tributed to the doing you any harm, or were an irre- gular vessel, I would part with it ; I would entertain it no more than I did my bed : go, then, and bring a pitcher. \^Ezeunt severally. Enier Sainty Ashe *, and Samuel Foley, Senior Fellows. . ' ., ^am/fy.Wheredoyoukeepyoureclipse-j^to-morrow? Sam. In my chamber. I do not care for groping my w^y to my dinner. Saiiity. What, will it be total ? No glimmering to be allowed, to eat our meat by ? Sam. So it seems. I have taken a great deal of pains to calculate it, and can now demonstrate it. Sainty. If you please, I would be very glad to see your calculation. Sam. Thus then : — Invenitur ex tabulis plenilu- nium medium, addita dimidia lunatione; et tunc, ex postaphaeresi et motu lunse horario^ inyeniantur di- giti ecliptici et parallaj^is altitudinis. ,.,,, / Sainty. 'Tis wonderful well ; from whence I con- clude, we are all like to be in the dark. Sam. Ay, doubtless ; or I'll burn my books. I would not want this little smattering in astronomy for a great deal, I protest. Sainty. I confess there's some advantage in it. * The Rev. St. George Ashe, Swift's tutor, t In the Philosophical Transactions we have an account of an eclipse observed at Dublin in j684j by Ashe and Molyneux. -' Sa?n, OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 67 Sajn. Advantage ! I could not live without it. I cut my hair by the stars ; and will tell the physiog- nomy and sex of my child, before my wife's brought to bed. - Sainty. But do the planets never wander ? are you Hot sometimes mistaken ? Sam. Oh, never; at least in things of this kind : it is as easy to calculate an eclipse, as to curl ; and if you doubt in any point, I'll- Sainly. No, no, I'm satisfied : 'twill be as clear as the sun. ^ \_ExeunU The Scene, Drogheda. Enter Mr. Doyle a7id his Damsel, Nelly : after them J the Tapster, with a Porringer of burnt Brandy and a Mutlon-pye. Doyle, Come, Nelly, sit down, and give me a kiss. Eelly. Fough, Sir, stand off. I protest you smell so strong of brandy and tobacco, a body can't endure you. Doyle. Nay, leave this peevish humour, and sit down : if you knew who I'm to be^ you'd be as kind to me, as to the smith's boy. Nelly. Pr'ythee, let go my apron, and do not pull me so. Doyle. But you won't hear me ! — I tell you, wo- man, as simple as I stand here, I'm to be a Fellow of Dublin College. Nelly. You, a Fellow ! Never the sooner for an hasty word. Pray, keep your filthy hand away, or I'll cry out, so I will. Come, come. Sir, don't think you are with Peggy What-do-you-call-her, Doyle, But I'll tell you, Nelly, Nelly, Tell me no tellings ; keep down your fin* Fa ,gers. 6s ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART gers, and do not you tear my petticoats. I'm afraid 'twas for what you did in the blankets, the Dean * made you stand in the white sheet. Doyle. Here, drawer, t'other porringer of brandy, and so to pay. That, and this quarter cob, will put you into a little better humour. Come, let us now let u£ Nelly. In verity, Mr. Doyle, you have the cunning- est way with you of pleasing a woman. — You see how loth I am to refuse a gentleman that's just on the point of preferment : — but hold, there's somebody coming. Enter the Drawer. Drawer. This makes two and two-pence now, be- gides the nineteen and seven-pence before ; and my mistress bid me tell you, she can trust no longer. Doyle. Why so, you scoundrel ? Draiuer. Because you put her ofF with mandrakes from the King. Doyle. Bid your mistress go hang herself: and look for her mpney, you whore's kitling. (Throws the wutton-pye at him),. [Exit Drawer, maundering. Nelly. Why so sleepy, Mr. Doyle ? Doyle. Oh, this scowering and lying most plagues me. Here, Nelly, here's to you. Aw, aw, I am damn'd sleepy, e'gad, damn'd sleepy, f Drops asleep J. Nelly. Lie there for a drunken sot. The Colle. gians are like to have a sweet tool of thee for a Fel- low. But let me see what we have got in his pockets. Out upon the scoundrel ! nothing but a pair of beads, two inches of tobacco, and one of pipe, [The scene closes. * Tobias Pullein, the great patron of Doyle^ until the enormities •f thelatter caused him to withdraw his protection. An4 OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 69 And here we leave him, and as he sleeps, take a view of his breeches ; which I would describe, but they have so many ends, I knov; not where to begin. He that would presume to mend them would run the risk of a tinker botching a kettle ; for^ hydra-like, out of one hole would come three or four. You may compare them to Jason's ship ; they have not one jot of their primitive stuff left : or to Dr. Mer- cer's yam stockings, that were darned into worsted. The lining had served a long apprenticeship for itself: and therefore away it crept to set up for itself at the paper-mill. They were most worn at the codpiece, and least at the pockets. The crow that borrowed feathers from her neighbours is the living emblem of these. Should every taylor's boy take his own cab- bage, Mr. Doyle would be an heathen philosopher. Doll Kitchen coming into his kennel before he rose, thought he had purloined her mop. By their shreds of all nations, you would have thought they belong- ed to one of the Freemasons that built Babel : but by the multiplicity of white fleas, you would swear they had been campaigning with the Vacancy. 'Tis alrnost incredible so many cattle should thrive on so bare a pasture. Every night he dares venture them off, he's in danger of losing them. Once when he lay without them, they crept from the garret to the street-door; and had bid him adieu for ever, but his landlady seized them by an habeas corpus, and brought them to him with a pair of tongs. I be- lieve, the ladies for once are tired of the breeches; and therefore, as Dean Glandee says, " This one word of comfort, and so have done." One morning, crawling their progress, the^' were devoured by a monkey, and the next day poor Pug died of Pym's disease. Quid 70 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Quid obstat, Dii boni, quomlnus Dr. Bladen fiat Episcopus ? Why should not Nick Knight be Dean of St. Patrick's ? En hominem, qui sodalitium ambit ! (ut inquit Mr. Griffith) qui licet socius sit^ nollem tamen ut socius esset ineus. Et jam in mentem venit mihi, unde est quod nondum reddit socius ille erraticus ; ni fallor, causam assignat Barclaeus poeta hunc in modum : Urbs spatiosa, poteris opibus, tectisque superba. O et presidium, deliciasque meag. Quicquid mortalis fingit solertia curag, Vel Natura suo parturit alma sinu j Haec tu sola dabis, &c. Anglice *. Let formal priests look grave and dull at hoine^ 1 To whom the worth of a licentious town V Nor the gay blessings of a Court are known, j Thither my wiser inclinations tend. Where I a chirping bottle with a friend May drink without controul, nor stand in fear Of every saucy ill-bred censurer: Where I may strut along the Mall, look big In point cravat, and toss a flaxen wig ; Dress in a gaudy waistcoat, and may wear 1 A sword, cock'd hat, gold fringe, and whatsoe'er V The libertine town affords, to charm the fair. j Miror quod his de causis Magister Patrickson non hue usque commoratus est Londini : sed Quantum quisque sua nummorum servat in arca^ Tantum habet et gaudii. . . * Tiiis piece of poetry seems-levelled at John Griffith, a Senio' .Fellow, thtn absent by a King's letter. 6 Salve, Op the life op swift. 71 Salve, Magister, gratulor tibi rcduci ; sunt qui affir- mant te pedestri itinere Londinum versus ambulasse, quod niihi cquidem vix credibile videtur ; perfacetus eteniiip Miles *" se tibi socium prsebuit, etjucundus comes est pro vehiculo (a good companion is as good as a coach). Enter Sir Michael Creagh, and another Alderman. Alderman. I have been man and boy in this town, let me see, some six and fifty years, and never knew the little penny so hard to be got as now. Sir MichaeL Never despair, old boy. We have a brave young Prince *, and the world's our own. Alderman. Nay, I have not remembered salt but- ter so scarce a commodity, I know not the day when. Sir Michael. Hang sorrow. Boy, fill me a glass of wine ; more, more yet, fill it higher still. So here, Father Greybeard, here is a health to the family of the Creaghs. Alderman. I pledge you, if it be sack. But, now I think on't. Sir Michael, who was your father? Sir MichaeL My father was a worthy gentleman, inferior to none of his rank, upon my honour. Alderman. Adsheartlikens, you may be mistaken in that, I assure you. * I suppose the person here alluded to may have been Miles Sumner ; who originally received his education in Trinity College : after leaving it, he had a command in the army of the Parliament during the civil wars. He was made, by the then ruling powers, a Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, in l6'52. He died shortly before the delivering of tliis piece. See more of him in the Har- leian Miscellany. t The son of James II. bom 10 June, l683. Sir 72 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Sir Michael. Mistaken? No, Sir; he was a travel- ling merchant ; one that saw more towns than you have done chimneys. Alderman. But, under favour. Sir Michael, I have heard schollards say, he was a losopher ? Sir Michael. Ay, that may be too : he always took delight to carry books about with him. Alderman. But take me along with you : you re- prehend me not ; they say he carried books on his back. Sir Michael. I say, I say he was a North Country Merchant, as I told you before. Come, drink your wine, and let us be gone. [^Exeunt. Now you'll ask, to what end I brought all these on the stage ; to which I answer, I brought them in by head and shoulders, and out by head and shoul- ders, for nothing at all, as Mr. Bayes did his beasts. Plurimis denuo salutatis et tot hominum ordinibus comiter exceptis, videor forsan reprehensione dignus, quod Machaonas omnes (Anglice, theSimplers) negli- genter prsetermisi. Cur autem tristia horum fata et lacrymabilis nova metamorphosis non vos diutius latent, cum certiores facti eritis ingenuos hosce ^s- culapii filios in plantas transmigrasse ; injuria tamen non sum arguendus, quod schemate mortuos non ex- cepi, the sad causes of whose death are at large de- scribed in this HEROICK OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 73 HEROICK POEM. A worthy Sage dwelt at All-Hallows, That did defy all gaols and gallows ; His punctual honesty was such, Some authors write, he had too much : And lo 1 Actonio was his name, Acton io loudly sung by Fame : A wight inferior to none For ponderosity of bum * ; And that took more pains to go. Than coarse Jephsonio would to plow : A mortal enemy to punning, Nor mightily inclined to running. He still with care did guard his heart From all the wounds of Cupid's dart; And yet was plump and soft confest, All but his petrified breast ; That still, alas, did stubborn prove To all the charming powers of love : In town or court, no beauteous dame E'er fann'd his passion to a flame ; For tho' he enjoy'd luxurious peace, Melting his hours in holy ease, He ne'er was vex'd by that unruly member, But liv'd as chaste as cold December : Tho' Cupids in his eyes did play. Yet in his heart Diana lay. Lively and sanguine was his face, Tho* phlegmatic the other place ; * In a Satyr written in 1^82, upon the Members of the Col- lege, Acton is thus described : Next him sat Acton's belly, big as tun. Colour 74 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART Colour as good as ever struck. But other things belied his look. When drowsy Aurora rubb'd her eyes, And came down stealing from the skies. Whilst that Sol's nags at mangers tarry. Before the clerks say, Ave-Mary ; Actonio, with his learned friends. From soaking downy bed descends ; And with the charioteer's assistance. Heaving himself with all puissance. He waddles into coach marine. And jogs his way, a simpleing. And now they reach the inchanted shore. Where Circe, in the days of yore, , By powerful herbs dispps'd of doom. And niagick spells did charm the moon: Whilst tir'd here with the toils of day. Our hero picking scions lay *. Rolling securely on the grass. Too nigh a fatal precipice, Adown *, adown, adown he drops, 'Twixt cruel unrelenting rocks. Three times he made eftbrt to rise. But thrice and thrice would not suffice: His weighty crupper kept him down. To seas and rocks to make his moan. Dumque-}- hie vicini maris auget murmura, dum liquido dolore tristissimum plorat f&tum, et philoso- phorurti adagiis se miserum solari conatur, iEscula- * In " the Lady's Dressmg-room," we have an instance of Swift using this uncommon word, cdoxcn. •\ These lines strongly resemble die style of John Barclay : at the beginning of the Arge-nis we find the words, " sermonem occupavit," as in this Tripos^ in Act I. we find " totum occupare sermonem." pius OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT. 75 plus filii sui querelis mitem praebens aurem, et patern^ commotus misericordia, heroem nostrum in umbili- cum Veneris transformavit. Socii nequicquam plorant amissum: Non illos Cereris, non illqs cura quietis Abstrahere inde potest. Sed iteratis clamoribus surdum feriunt littus : asgra terque quaterque pulsant pectora: alta voce deorum proclamant tyrannidem ; nee diatius insano luctui indulgent, sed pedibus tclluri affixis, pellibus- que in cortices mutatis, ^-nulli color qui fuit ante, manet. Singulis novae subeunt formas ; et mira quadam metamorphosi in plantas proinde, ut hie sequitur, transinutantur : Magister Downes in cupressura ; Magister Smith in pinguidinem (Anglice) fat- wort ; Magister Scroggs in hyacinthum ; Mr. Lloyd in quercum ; Magister Ashe into a red-headed poppy ; Sir Fitzsimons, who always dropt after, (as our town of Berwick upon Tweed) into a thistle, which still retains its primitive roughness ; Magister Sayers in Narciss;im, de quo olini Buchananus sic : Nescio an inspexti Narcissi, Posthume, fontem ; Hoc scio, deliras, Posthume, amore tui. Ille tamen merito : nam quod malesanus amavit. Ante quidem id multis causa furoris erat. At tua non paulo est major vesania, qui te, Sed sine rivali, Posthume, solus amas. Sed dicat mihi quis, quod in tot^ hSc corona, vel po» tiuscrowdo et presso, nondum vidi dominum Terrill : ni fallor, if he be not here, he's at home with his wife, 76 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PAUT wife, who, to gain entirely his affections, sent him this stratagem ical epistle. The quondam widow. Sir Terrill's mistress, hear- ing he had laid siege to the bookbinder's sister, and therefore fearing he should give her the willow, partly to be revenged of her rival, partly to secure him to herself, writes to him this epistle : Sir, I am informed you design to bind yourself to the stationer's sister : if so, take it from a friend, she's a gentlewoman in folio, and consequently will be very tedious to a young student. I was concerned to hear the crafty citizen intended to put into your hands the lumber of his shop : and therefore intreat you, if you have any kindness for yourself, to have nothing to do with that musty piece, whose ivorm- eaten cover may inform you, she has been cheapened above these twenty years ; and the reason she did not go oiF is, she was found so old and thumbed, that she was not fit to be perused : and of so little value, that none thought her worthy the press. Besides, Sir, she has lived some time in a learned house, where it may be presumed, for good reasons, that some of the young scholars, for their curiosity, might ruffle her leaves. If what I've said cannot dissuade you, do but turn her over carefully ; and 'tis very probable you'll find she has been abused at least in the sheets, if not in the setting forth of a neiv edition blotted in the impression. Sir; your humble servant, Jane Banks. And OF THE LIFE OF SWIFT- ^ 77 And now belike I have made a fair afternoon's work on t : I liave not left myself one friend o( the Mammon of Unrighteousness. If I go to the kitehen, the Steward will be my enemy as long as he breathes ; if to the cellar, the Butler will dash my ale with water ; and the clerk of the buttery will score up my offences five-fold. If I betake myself to the library, Ridley's ghost will haunt me, for scandalizing him with the name of Freemason. If I fly to the Divines for succour, Dean Manby and Archdeacon Baynard will pervert me ; Dr. King wiU break my head, because I am a Priscian : and Dr. Foy is so full of spleen, he II worry me. Mrs, Horncastle and Sir Maddison will talk with me. Mother Jenkinson won't furnish me with cale and bacon on Christmas- day, and Dr.Loftus will bite me. The Virtuosi will set their brains a-work, for gimcracks to pull my eyes out. The Freemasons will banish me their lodge, and bar me the happiness of kissing long Laurence. And the Astronomers Avon't allow me one good star, nor inform me when the sun will be totally eclipsed, that I may provide myself with candles. Mr. Loftus and Mr. Lloyd will nose me ; Mr. Allen will eat me without salt; Dr. Acton too, I fear, w'lW fall on me. Nay, the very Provost will shake his head at me, and scower away from me : but that v;hich mak^s my calamity most insupportable, and me weary of your company, is, that in all my tribulation, you do no- thing but laugh * at me; and therefore I take my leave. * From this passage it appears, that the author of this perform- ance had no malicious intentions towards the persons whom he cen- sured j but only -wished to indulge a little pleasantr}', -which, he conceived, the usual practice on such occasions warranted. The 78 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART The Piece above given being most probably the earliest production of the pen of Swift, may perhaps (on that account principally) be deemed not alto- gether unworthy of the public notice ; and the more so, when we reflect that it is so interwoven with his academic conduct, that no faithful and accurate ac- count of the latter could be given without the intro- duction of the former. Besides ; we may suppose the hard treatment (as he would have it thought to be) which his friend had received for a licence allowed on such occasions, and sanctioned by the practice then generally prevailing in learned seminaries, to have had no small influence in producing that ill beha- viour which led to the fetal catastrophe of 30 No- vember, 1 6S8 : while, on the other hand, the suspicion (for that such was generally entertained, appears from the anecdote preserved by Richardson) that he was the real but secret author, may have probably dis- posed the then Heads of the University to have ex- erted a greater degree of severity, than they would have otherwise proceeded to. And therefore, viewing the subject in this light, we are led to consider the Tripos as connected with the other transactions of Swift, while in college. To this we ought also to add, that although the punishment he underwent on the day he completed his twenty-first year, may af- ford an ample solution of the question, why he en- tertained an animosity to that learned body, where he had the honour and the happiness to receive his early instructions; yet we are still to seek, what could have disposed a person of such high spirit to forgive that indignity to which he was obliged to submit. The injury done to his wounded pride could never OP THE LIFE OP SWIFT. 79 never have been pardoned, nor would he ever have deigned to visit those walls within which he had been so grievously insulted, had not a sense that his pu- nishment was not unmerited, and that he had justly provoked those whom he was bound to revere, caused his angry passions to subside, and inclined him to seek reconciliation. Nothing, I am persuaded, could have impressed on his mind such sense and such conviction, if he had not been conscious that he was the real author of that piece, which had taken unwarrantable liberties with the characters of dif- ferent members of the Church and University. The practice of delivering compositions of this nature has long been abolished in the University of Dublin, a plain proof that on some occasion or other it had been greatly abused : in other Universities it has been attended with circumstances of equal, if not superior, intemperance. The same Miscellany which contains the Tripos of Jones, gives also a si- milar harangue pronounced in the Theatre of Oxford, 10 July, 1693, by the Terr^-filius, Mr. H. Aleworth, of Christ Church, which is replete with the grossest abuse and most indecent licentiousness. Not many years before the Tripos of Jones was pronounced, Mr. Shirley, a Terrae-filius, treated the famous Oxford antiquary, Mr. Anthony Wood, with the greatest scurrility, as we learn from the Lives of Leiand, Wood, and Hearne * ; in which work is given an extract from Shirley's Speech, taken from the original in the Bodleian Library. The misinformation given to Richardson deserves to be corrected : and therefore it was the more ne- cessary for the attainment of this object, to state the * Vol. II. p. 253. • transaction 80 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART transaction in its true and proper light ; and thus to remove a charge so heavy as that the Heads of any learned Society could have descended to conduct so unworthy, as to put any of their members into a si- tuation exposed to peculiar difficulties; and this merely to furnish themselves with a pretext for expel- ling him. By correcting the two false assertions, — first, that Swift ever was Terrae-filius ; 2dly, that he ever v/as expelled, — this aspersion appears to be totally destitute of foundation, and is completely re- moved. Nor was the information conveyed to Rich- ardson more faithful with respect to the substance of the Tripos itself: many of the persons whom it un- dertook to censure, were absent at the time it was delivered (a circumstance directly opposite to what took place in the case of the Oxford antiquary, who was present when abused by Shirley) ; and some had deserved almost every thing that could be said to their disadvantage ; and the author does not appear to have levelled any abuse against the Heads of the University, nor to have objected any thing immoral or vicious to those inferior Members whom his satyr lashes. — Among those who had justly provoked his censure by the irregularity of their lives, the chief place seems due to Bernard Doyle, whose enormities were such, that they would not bear to be recited. Sensible of this, the College, in their petition to Lord Tyrconnel, stated, " that his actions were so shameful, that they could not venture to mention them in the same paper which bore the august name of his Majesty's Viceroy, and therefore prayed indul- gence to make them the subject of a particular paper." But, however erroneous we must grant the inform mation OP THE LIFE OP SVVIPT. 81 rnation transmitted to Richardson by his friend to have been, it is impossible to deny that it renders us consi- derable service, by furnishing the clue that developes the true author of the Tripos, and by ascertaining the fact, that such suspicion had attached itself to Swift at that very time. That he was its real author, I have endeavoured to prove, by shewing that it con- veys his own ideas clothed in his own style and lan- guage, and expresses the passions of his mind on the same objects and in the same manner as we find to occur in other performances undoubtedly his* And I have also establislied the important fact, that a close intimacy subsisted for many years between him and its reputed author ; a person from whose pen we hat^e no production whatever, between which aaid this we might institute any comparison* Yet all these arguments would possess little weight, did we want the testimony of Richardson : a testimony the more to be valued, because its author (Richard- son's informer) was entirely unacquainted both with the records of the college and the work itself, and therefore must have derived his knoudedge solely from -one who was personally acquainted with the cir^ cumstances attending tlie transaction at the time it happened. That he knew not the work, is evident from Iiis misrepresentation of the substance and tenor of it : and that he was equally ignorant of what the college records could have supplied, abun- dantly appears from liis confounding two very differ- ent events, the punishments of Jones and Swift : besides, these records were inaccessible to him ; and the different officers of the college themselves, in whose custody they were kept, were entirely unin- formed of their contents. G With 82 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART With respect to the person from whom Richard- son derived this information, I have not been able to discover any thing satisfactory. — The words of Rich- ardson are very ambiguous, and point out two per- sons ; an eminent Divine and bis son : but leave us in the dark as to which of them was the prelate, and which was chum to Swift for three years in college. Notwithstanding, however, the ambiguity of the passage, we may safely suppose that what was meant to be asserted was, that the information was origin- ally derived from a prelate who had been chum or chamber-fellow with Swift : for if we apply this dis- cription to the son, he then must have been nearly of the same age with Swift, and consequently in 1752, (the date of Richardson's letter,) must have been eightv-four years old : a circumstance highly improbable. It may be added too, that if the person who communicated this anecdote to Richardson had been Swift's contemporary, he could not have been so inaccurate in his statement. In Mr. Deane Swift's Essay on the Life of his Relation, p. 3 1 , we learn that Mr. Wassendra Warren was his chamber-fellow ; but I can find no such name mentioned in any re- cord, as ever belonging to our college ; and suppose the person meant to have been Westenra Waring, who was admitted (according to the Senior Lecturer's book) on 16 June, 1692, and therefore could never have been Swift's clunn. From the same book it appears that Mr. William Waring, of the county of .'Vntrim, had two sons, both admitted as pensioners ; the one William, on 11 June, ]681, the other Rich- erd, on 9 April, l684: and that on 3 July, l684, Thomas Warren was admitted fellow-commoner. This last is the person who was censured with the Swifts OP THE LIFE OP SWIPt. ^3 Swifts and their asf^)ciates, on jG Axarch, 1 686-7. But Swift's chum, it is highly probable, was William Waring (or Waryng) above-mentioned ; because he .was in Swift's class, (for though Ire was admitted on the 1 1th of June, his admission has a reference to the 8th of July, l68 1 , when the academical year of Swift's class commenced;) and l^eing described ^'^ of the county of Antrim," he was doubtless brother to Miss Jane Waryng, the lady to whom Swift paid his ad- dresses, and in his letters dl^stinguished by the name of Varjlna. Her family, it is well known, lived near Belfast, in the county of Antrim *. I find myself, however, totally at a loss to reconcile this supposition with the anecdote of Richardson, so far as it relates to the station afterwards filled by such person in the church. After the preceding observations were committed to the press, I met Wi^i a passage in one of Swift's early poetical compositions, which appears to me far- vourable to the idea of his being the author of the foregoing satirical piece. Among other Miscellaries of his, published originally at London^ in Svo, m ]78g, is an Epistle addressed by him to Congreve, in 1693, in which are the following lines -J- : * In confirmation of the learned writer's supposition it should be observed, that a well-informed person, who appears to have had access to several of Swift's papers, in a manuscript note on Hawkesworth's Life of "Swift, says, " His intimacy witli tiiis gen- tleman [eiToneously here called Wenteina Waryng] and his sister Miss Jaue Waryng, continued several years afterwards [that is, after he left Trinity College, ] as appears from his letters to tiiera while he was at Moore Park." See vol, I. pp. 1 — 10. N. t See vol. XVI. p. 34. N. G 2 *' My 84 ESSAY ON THE EARLIER PART *' My hate, •whose lash just Heaven has long decreed, ,. " Shall on a day make Sin and Folly bleed." Mr. Sheridan, struck with the thought contained in these lines, supposes them to prognosticate his future exertions against Siu and Folly : but lam much in- clined to think that they rather point to some- thing past, than prophecy any thing future. For I reason thus : These lines plainly imply a conscious- ness in Swift, of his own great powers to make Sin and Folly bleed. Now whence did he acquire this consciousness, or how came he to know that he possessed these powers ? The natural answer will be. Because he had made trial of them, and succeeded in lashing Vice in the person of Doyle, and Folly in that of Weaver : in short, because he had composed the Tripos, and was well acquainted with the effects which it produced. In another place in the same poem, he speaks of " the judgments of his pen ;" words the more remarkable, because in 1693 he had not written any thing satirical, that we know of, unless the Tripos were his composition. OF THE LIFE OP SWIFT. iB5 *^* The Whimsical Mkdlky, from which the foregoing Tripos, and the following poems, have been transcribed, is a MS. in three volumes, 4to. in the library of Trinity College, Dub- lin. It is every where written by one and the same hand, except on one page, 'which contains an Address in verse " to Emilia, Ea- roness of Newtown Buller," concluding thus : " Accept this offering from a friend that's true, **■ Since what I've writ, fiiUs short of what's your due. " From )'our Ladyship's most humble, most obedient, " most afteciionate brother, '' J. BUTLER." This poetical epistle has no date ; but, as it mentions tlie lady's son as then living, who died in 1721, (as she herself died in 1722, and her husband, Theophilus, in 1723,) we cannot assign it a later date than 1720. In eveiy other part the MS. appears, all throughout, written by one and the same hand, which is a diiferent hand from the last mentioned ; and this hand-writing I suppose to be that of Theo- philus, first Lord Newtown Butler, and elder brother to Brinsley, first Viscount Lanesborough : a fact which is clearly established by the following circumstantial evidence : 1 , This book is already proved to have existed in the family during tlie time of 1 heophilus, as appears from the Address al- ready mentioned, which is in vol. i. p. 275, and is inseparable from the book, so that tlie date of one is that also of the other : and, as the writer of that address, James Butler, did not write the rest of these volumes, it will be probable that they were written by Theophilus. 2. In the Appendix to vol. i. p. 6o, occurs a piece, called — '^ A Preamble to inj/ Patent;" and this is the very preamble given by Lodge to the patent creating Theophilus Lord iXeutown But- ler. — Besides ; in vol. ii. p. 2 4^0, we have " An Elegy to m^ bro- ther, Robert Stopford, Esq. by an unknown hand :" and this also shews Theophilus to have been the writer of this MS. ; for Robert btopford was his brother-in-law. n. This B6 ESSAY ON THE EAKLIEB ?AET, ETC, 3. This noblemau was j-eraarkable, as we learn from the Pre- amble to lis Patent, for his attachment to the Protestant Succes- sion; ID V> ihiam the'lhird, and the ihustrious House of Bruns- wick. Now he has given us a piece, entitled, " the Torj' s Advice to a Painter," in which the vilest slander is poured on William the Xhird In the margin opposite to this calumny, the same hand that wrote the text, adds—" It is false ; — the author a rebel,, a vU- iain." PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, POR THK. ll£ASONS ANNEXKU AT THE END Oi' EACH. ICUMMUNICATED BY DR. BARRETT.] No. I. .An excellent neiv Soiig, being ^the intended Speech of a famous Orator against Peace *. An Orator Dismal, of NottinghamsJiirey Who has forty years let out his conscience to hire, &c. {as in vcl. XVI. p. 98.) -j- * We have retained in this place the title of tlie song, to pre- serve the chain of the learned Commiinicator s notes j who was not aware that the Ballad itself is already incorporated in the Dean's Works; where it was first placed by the present Editor in 177^,, from a printed copy preserved in the Lambeth Library by the attention of Archbishop Tenison, with several other of Swiit's Grubs, in the oiiginal fudf-shed form. Among these are, " Peace- and Dunkirk;" " A Paraphrase on Horace, addressed to Richard Steele, Fsq." " John Dennis's Invitation to Steele;" " Toland's Invitation to Dismal;" &:c. &c. See vol. xvi. pp. 109, 111, 104^, 108. N. f This Piece is taken from " the Wliimsical Medley," a Collec- tion of Poetry, in 3 vols. 4to. MS. of which an account is given in page cxivii. By referring to Swift's Correspondence with Stella, No. 35, December ist, 1711, and No. 37, December 15, 1711 ; (see also his Letter to Dr. Sterne, December •29, 1711 ;) it plainly appears that this is the Ballad which the Ministry em- ployed him to compose on the subject of a motion made in the House of Lords against Pe?.c«. Mr. Deane Swift has, by error, givan 83 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. No. II. The Recorder s Speech to his Grace the Duke of Ormonde Aih July, 171]. JFiih a Parody upon it ; which is, per haps ^ by Swift. This City can omit no opportunity of expressing their hearty affection for her Majesty's person and government ; and their regard for your Grace, who has the honour of representing her in this kingdom. We retain, myJLord, a grateful remembrance of the mild and just administration q{ the Government of this Kingdom by your noble r.ncestors : and when we consider the share your Grace had in the happy Revolution in l6S8, and the many good laws you have procured us since, particularly that for prevent- ing the farther grov.'th of Popery, we are assured given in its place "■ the Invitation of Tolnnd to Dismal." But this Invitation to Dismal is dated 2./ January: -which date evi- dently proves tliat it could not be the Ballad in question 3 since it appears from Swift's own account, that the ballad was writ- ten on 6 December, 1/11, and read the same evening to his friends. Besides, the Invitation contained notliing that could hurt the feelings of die noble Earl, or excite such resentment as we know the Ballad did ; the matter of which was calculated to give very great offence, and was highly censurable. I am ignorant who the person was, who is here stiled Hoppy. In the same Collection may be found a piece, called " Advice to a young Lady, or a young Lady's JSew-year's Gift," being an Epi- tlialaniium on the Marriage of Old Hooper with Nanny Dismal. I suppose the person called Old Hooper may be the same with Hoppy. Jn Lady Acheson's Panegyric on Swift, and in Swift's 'Verses on his own Death, we find lines occurring, that are nearly the same witli verses 41, 42, and 51, 52, of the above poem. that PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. Sg that tlmt liberty and property, that happy Constitution in Church and State, to which we were restoied by King VV'ilHam of glorious memory, will be inviolably preserved under your Grace's Administration. And we are persuaded tliat we cannot more effectually re- commend ourselves to your Grace's favour and pro- tection, than by assuring you that we will, to the utmost of our power, contribute to the honour and safety of her Majesty's Government, the mainten- ance of the succession in the illustrious House of Hanover, and that we shall at all times oppose tlie secret' and open attempts of the Pretender^ and all his abettors, The Recorder s Speech explained hij the Tories. An ancient Metropolis, iiimous of late For opposing the Church, and for nosing the State, For protecting sedition and rejecting order. Made the following speech by their mouth, the Re- corder : First, to tell you the name of this place of renown, 3ome still call it Dublin, but most Forster's town. The Speech^ May it please your Grace, We cannot omit; this occasion to tell. That we love the Queen's person and Government well ; Then next, to your Grace we this compliment make. That our Worships regard you, but 'tis for her sake: Tho' our mouth be a Whig., and cur head a Dissenter, Yet salute you we must, 'cause you represent her : Nor go PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, Korean we forget, Sir, that some of your line Did with mildness and peace in this Government shine. But of all your exploits, we'll allow but one fact. That your Grace has procured us a Popery Act. By this you may see that the least of your actions Does conduce still the most to our satisfactions. And lastly, because in the year eighty-eight You did early appear in defence of our right. We give no other proof of your zeal to your Prince ; So we freely forget a'l your services since. It's then only we hope, that whilst }oa rule o'er us. You'll tread in the steps of King William the glorious. Whom we're always adoring, tho' hajid over head. For we owe him allegiance, altho' he be dead ; Which shews that good zeal may be founded in spleen, 3ince a dead Prince we worship, to lessen the Queen. And as for her Majesty, we will defend her Against our hobgoblin, the Popish Pretender. Our valiant militia will stoutly stand by her. Against the sly Jack, and the sturdy High-flyer. 3he is safe when thus guarded, if Providence bless her. And Hanover's sure to be next her successor. Thus ended the speech, but what heart would not pity Jlis Grace, almost chok'd with the breath of the Citv! No. PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, Q^ Na III. Mr. William Crowe, Recorder of Blessingtoris Ad' dress to her Majesty, as copied from the London Gazette *. To the Queen's most Excellent Majesty. The humble Address of the Sovereign, Recorder, Burgesses, aiid Freemen, of the Borough of Bles- sington. May it please your Majesty, Though we stand almost last on the roll of Bo* roughs of this your Majesty's Kingdom of Ireland, and therefore, in good manners to our elder brothers, press but late among the joyful crowd about ^ our royal throne : yet we beg leave to assure your Ma- jesty, that we come behind none in our good affec- tion to your sacred Person and Government ; inso- much that the late surprizing accounts from Ger- many have filled us with a joy not inferior to any of our Icllow subjects. We heard with transport that tlie English warmed the field to that degree, that thirty squadrons, part of the vanquished enemy, were forced to fly to water, not able to stand their fire, and drank their last draught in the Danube, for the waste they had before * This i3 given, merely to shew that Crowe belonged to the High Church or Tory Party (which appears from that part of his speech which puts upon a footing of equality the exploits of Marl- borough,, and the safe deliverance of Sir George Rooke from the French fleet) j and consequently exposed himself to the censure of S"ftift, who at tiiat liiue wa£ coiint-cted with tl;e W higs. pommittcd Q2 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. committed on its injured banks, thereby putting an end to their Master's long-boasted victories : a glo- rious push indeed, and worthy a General of the Queen oi England. And we are not a little pleased, to find several gentlemen in considerable posts of your Majesty's army, who drew their first breath in this country, sharing in the good fortune of those who so ef^:ctually put in execution the command of your gallant enterprizing General, whose twin-battles Iiave, with his own title of Marlborough, given im- mortality to the otherwise perishing names of Schel- lenberg and Hogstete : actions that speak him born under stars as propitious to England as that he nov/ wears, on both v.hich he has so often reflected lustre, as to have now abundantly repaid the glory they once lent him. Nor can we but congratulate with a joy proportioned to the success of your Majesty's fleet, our last campaign at sea, since by it we observe the French obliged to steer their wonted course for security^ to their ports ; and Gibraltar, the Spaniards' ancient defence, bravely stormed, possessed, and maintained by your Majesty's subjects. May the supplies for reducing the exorbitant power of France be such, as may scon turn your wreaths of laurel into branches of olive : that, after the toils of a just and honourable war, carried on by a Con- federacy of which your Majesty is most truly, as of the Faith, styled Defender, we may live to enjoy under your Majesty's auspicious Government, the blessings of a profound and lasting peace ; a peace beyond the power of him to violate, v/ho, but for his pwn unreasonable conveniency, destructive always of his neighbours, never yet kept any. And, ~to com- plete our happiness, may your Majesty again prove tQ PIECES ASCRIBED TO SV*"IFT. 93 to your own family^ what you have been so eminently to the true Church, a nursing mother. So wish, and so pray, may it please your Majesty, your Ma- jesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, and devoted humble servants. i This Address was presented 17 January, 1704-5. Mr. William Crowe's Address to her Majesty, turned into Metre. From a town that consists of a church and a steeple. With three or four houses, and as many people. There went an Address in great form and good order. Composed, as 'tis said, by Will Crowe, their Re- corder. And thus it began to an excellent tune : Forgive us, good Madam, that we did not as soon As the rest of the cities and towns of this Nation Wish your Majesty joy on this glorious occasion. Not that we're less hearty or loyal than others. But having a great many sisters and brothers. Our borough in riches and years ilir exceeding, We let them speak first, to show our good breeding. We have heard with much transport and great sa- tisfaction Of the vict'ry obtained in tlie late famous action. When the field was so warm'dj that it soon grew too hot For the French and Bavarians, who had all gone to pot. But that they thought best in great haste to retire. And leap into the water, for fear of the fire. But *g4 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. But says the good river, Ye fools, plague confound ye. Do ye think to swim thro' me, and that I'll not drowni ye ? Who have ravisli'd, and murder'd, and play'd such damn'd pranks. And trod down the grass on my much-injur'd banks? Then, swelling with anger and rage to the brink. He gave the poor Monsieur his last draught of drink. So it plainly appears they were very well bang'd, And that some may be drowri'd,who deserv'cl to be hang'd. Great Marlbro' well push'd : 'twas well push'd indeed: Oh, how we adore you, because you succeed ! And now I may say it, I hope williout blushing, That you have got twins, by your violent pushing j Twin battles I mean, that will ne'er be forgotten. But live and be talk'd of, when we're dead and rotten. Let other nice Lords sculk at home from the wars. Prank 'd up and adorned with garters and stars. Which but twinkle like those in a cold frosty night ; While to yours you are adding such lustre and hght. That if you proceed, I'm sure very soon 'Twill be brighter and larger than the sun or the moon : A blazing star, I foretell, 'tvi^ill prove to the Gaul, That portends of his empire the ruin and fall. Now God bless your Majesty, and our Lord^ Murrough,* And send him in safety and health to his burrough. * Murrough (or Morrough) Bcylc, the first Viscount BlessingtoB ■who died in April, 1 7 1 S, No. KIECES ASCRIBKD TO SWIFl*. JS No. IV. The Reverse (to Swift's Verses on Biddy Floyd) ; or Mrs. Cludd. Venus one day, as story goes, But ilr what reason no man knows. In sullen mood and grave deport, Trudg'd it away to Jove's high Court ; And there his Godship did entreat To look out for his best receipt : And make a monster strange and odd, Abhorr'd by man and every god, Jove ever kind to all the fair. Nor e'er refus'd a lady's prayer. Straight ope'd 'scrutcre, and forth he took A neatly bound and well-gilt book ; Sure sign that nothing enter'd there. But what was very choice and rare. Scarce had he turn'd a pyge or two, — ■ It might be more for aught I know ; But, be the matter more or less, 'Mong friends 'twill break no squares, I guess. Then, smiling, to the dame quoth he. Here's one will fit you to a T. But, as the writing doth prescribe, 'Tis fit the ingredients we provide. Away he went, and search'd the stews. And every street about the Mev/s : Diseases, impudence, and lies. Are found and brought him in a trice. From Hackney then he did provide, A clu«isy air and aukward pride : From g6 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. From lady's toilet next he brought Noise, scandal, and malicious thought. These Jove put in an old close-stool, And with them mix'd the vain, the fooL But now came on his greatest care. Of what he should his paste prepare ; For common clay or finer mould Was much too good, such stuff to hold. At last he wisely thought on mud ; So rais'd it up, and call'd it — Cludd, With this, the lady well content, Low courtsey'd, and away she went.* * These last three Pieces are all taken from the Whimsical Med- ley; which contains many others that are unquestionably Swift's productions, and as such printed, although their Author's name is not there mentioned, no more than in the four numbers above given. — I consider tlie last tluee as having Swift for their author^ 1st. From their similitude to his style and sentiments, 2dly. Because they are merely of a -local nature, and relate to transactions that would scarcely have interested any other person, and to individuals connected witli himself only. Thus, he had the living of Dunlavin, which is in the vicinity of Blessington ; this would have led him to compose the Piece, No. III. ; and that he knew William Crowe, appears from his Account of Lord Wharton. — He was a relation of tlie Duke of Ormond ; which, if every other ground were wanting, w ould have led Swift to compose the Parody, No. II. 3dly. From allusions in his Works. Thus, one of his poems on Vanbrugh, begins. When Mother Chidd rose up from play — . Here he plainly alludes to No. IV. No, PIECES ASCKIBED TO SWIFT. QT No. V. A Conference between Sir II. P — ce's CUanot^ and Mrs. D. St—ds Chair. CHARIOT. My pretty dear Cuz, tho' I've rov'd the town o"'cr, To dispatch in an hour some visits a score ; Tho', since first on the wheels, I've been every day At the 'Change, at a raffling, at church, or a play ; And the fops of the town are pleas'd with the notion Of calling your slave the perpetual motion ; — Tho' oft at your door I have whin'd [out] my love. As my Knight does grin his at your Lady above ; Yet ne'er before this, tho' I used all my care, I e'er was so happy to meet my dear Chair ; And since we're so near, like birds of a feather, Let's e'en, as they say, set our horses together. CHAIR. By your aukward address, you're that thing which should carry, With one footman behind, our lover Sir Harry. By your langui^gC;, I judge, you think me a wench ; He that makes love to me, must make it in French. Thou thufs drawn by two beasts, and carry 'st a brute, Canst thou vainly e'er hope, I'll answer thy suit? Tho* sometimes you pretend to appear with ypur six^ No regard to their colour, their sexes you mix : Then on the grand-paw you'd look very great, With your new- fashion 'd glasses, and nasty old seat. Thus a beau I have seen strutt with a cock'd hat. And newly rigg'd out, with a dirty cravat. H . ' Tou 98 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. You may think that you make a figure most shining. But its plain that you have an old cloak for a lining. Are those double-gilt nails ? Where's the lustre of Kerry, To set off the Knight, and to finish the Jerry ? If you hope I'll be kind, you must tell me what's due In George's-lane for you, ere I'll buckle to, CHARIOT. Why, how now, Doll Diamond, you're very alert ; Is it your French breeding has made you so pert ^ Because I was civil, here's a stir with a pox : Who is it that values your or your fox ? Sure 'tis to her honour, he ever should bed His bloody red hand, to her bloody red head. You're proud of your gilding; but, I tell you, each nail Is only [just] ting'd with a rub at her tail : And altho' it may pass for gold on each ninny. Sure we know a Bath shilling soon from a guinea. Nay, her foretop's a cheat ; each morn she does black it. Yet, ere it be night, it's the same with her placket. I'll ne'er be run down any more with your cant ; Your velvet was wore before in a mant. On the back of her mother; but now 'tis much dul- ler,- The fire she carries hath changed its colour.* Those creatures that draw me you never would mind. If you'd but look on your own Pharaoh's lean kine: The); 're taken for spectres, they're so meagre and spare,. Drawn damnably low by your sorrel mare, * Fire is he:e used as a dissyllalle. We PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 9.Q We know how your lady was in yon befriended ; You're not to be paid for, 'till the lawsuit is ended : But her bond it is good, he need not to doubt ; She is two or three years above being out. Could my Knight be advis'd, he should ne'er spend his vigour On one he can't hope of e'er making bigger, *^* From the same Whimsical Medley is taken the above Dia- logue } and tlie Lady mentioned in it is Dorothy Stopford, who, about 1704, married Edward the fourth Earl of Meath, and, after his death, became the wife of L. General Richard Gorges. This Piece is theretbre prior to \70-\, and probably is by Swift; Under the names of Dicky and Dolly, Swift exerted his malice against this lady a;id her second husband. She was sister to Emilia, who married Thenphilus, the first Lord Newtown. See Lodge, vol. IIL p. 339; and vol. I. p. IpO. — ^I'hat Swift introduced dialogues between inanimate beings, we know, from his Dialogue between Richmond Lodge and Marble Hill 5 with which this last may be compared. — In it we find the rhyme between the words ninny and guinea, which wd may also observe in some of his undoubted works. Xo. VI. A Dialogue heticeeii Sir William Handcock and Thady Fitzpatrick, m the Devil's ante-chamber. Thady. You're welcome, Sir William ; by my shoul and sal- vation, I rejoice for to see one from my own nation : We have long wanted news : was it growing wealthy, Has made all my brothers 50 damnable healthy ? H 2 When 100 PIECES ASCniBED TO SWIFT. When I think of their number, I look for them faster ; Sure they are not grown honest, and quitted their Master. Come, never look squeamish, nor be out of order, We're here on a level, good Master Recorder, Let me know what haspass'd,and you'll find Til be civile And speak a good word for you here to the Devil. Sir William. Oh, thank you, dear Thady, and must own for my part. It's much more your goodness, than it is my desert ;. But, to speak for his fee, you know 'twas our calling-^ Which because I coald not, I then fell a bawling. I never stuck out to quote a false case ; And to back it, I e'er had an impudent face ; Or on my right hand I had. always my brother, To vouch, which we still did, the one for th« other.. To be sure, to be rich, was always my guide; To take, wlien I could, a fee on each side. All this you well know. But pr ythee now tell,. If 1 have any more acquaintance in heH. Is not that Tullamore ? * Thady. You see how he trudges At the head of a shoal of unrighteous judges. By oppression and cheating, by rapine and lust^ We shall in good time have the rest of the Trust. But our Master, the Devil, has solemnly sv/ore, Till they're out of commission, not to admit more. * John Moore, of Croghan, in the King's County; created ir^ 1715, Baron Moore of Tulhmore ; in 17 i^', and again in Feb. 17C2-3, appointed one of the Lords Ccmmissioners for holding the Great -cal dviring the absence of Lord ChanceUor Dvliddleton. it PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT* lOl If you speak me but fair, you shall not go far To meet with your friends of the Bench or the Bar : Look, at Reynolds, and Lyndon, and Whitshed, and Keating, The four rbgues are all got together a prating. Sir William. Pr ythee, where is fat Ilely ? I durst lay my life, That he's got to heaven, by help of liis wife. Thady. You'll ever be urging a reason that's faint; If that would have done, we might each be a saint. But what is become of Sir Toby and Stephen ? * There's neither of them, I am sure, gone to heaven. Does your brother as yet speak law in a cause; And has Pauca left oft' making use of his claws ? Does the Bar from the Bench with patience still pocket The calling them rogue, and rascal, and blockhead ? Sir William. Faith, Thady, our Judges are grown very luunble; And one is suspicious, he'll soon have a tumble. The new ones they keep the old ones in awe, And have taught them civility, prudence, and law. Thady. Pox take me. Sir William, why was not I asking. All this time you've been here, for poor Clara Gas- coyne ? The woman that lay so long by my side ; — But I show'd I forgot her before that I died. * Probably Sir Theobald Butler, and Sir Stephen Rice. The latter was Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. I believ 102 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. I believe she's unmarried, for I think I took care To leave her but little, and much to my heir. Sir William. She still is thy widow, thou barbarous teigue ; Both living and dead, thou st to her been a plague : I-t's not for that'sin, that I am come here, Having left all the wealth I had to my dear. Thady. That thou e'er wert a blockhead, you need not now own. But this thy last action all others does crown : Thou scarce wert got hither, thou pitiful cully. Before she had gotten a lusty voung bully : I have of our Master a proveib to tell you ; What's got o'er his back, is spent under his belly. *^* This Dialogue is taken from the same MS.j and ascribed to Swift on conjecture. It must have been written about l/HSj about which time Sir WiUiara Handcock, Kecorcier of Dublin, diedj and was succeeded in that ofHce by I^Ir. John Forster. Thady Filzpatrick represented the town of Maryborough in King James's Parliament. In the 7 th of William the Third, a warrant was granted for a pardon to Thady Filzpatrick : it being reported, *' that he never was in any military office, nor in arms ngainst the King; but, upon his Declaration, submitted, and took pro- tection, and behaved himself obedient and inolfensive, serving his Protestant neighbours in their necessities, as inuch as in his power j and yet that he was indicted and outlawed, and his blood corrupt- ed, though he had no lands or real estate to forfeit." Dated :.:(Jth IMarch, 10'.95. In March, l6S8-C), Mr. John Price, of Ballinderry, in the county of Wicklow, was tried before Lord Chief Justice Keating, a Pro- testant, and Baron Lynch, a Papist, on a charge of Treason j for that he, with 1 1 Protestants rirore, had refused to give up their arms. Fitzpatrick was Counsel for the Crown, and Handcock for the prisoners. Fitzpatrick having asserted, that a certain thatched cabin was a garrison 3 Handcock, in reply, told him, that he wished to PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT. 103 to make all the Protestants rebels. C. Justice Keating having said, that he did not choose to take any steps, in consequence of w hich he might be hanged ; Kitzpatrick asked, Was ever a Judge hang- ed ? to which liandcock replied, Yes, twenty. — One Kavenagb, a Papist, was at the same time indicted for robbery and murder -. It was proved against him, that he had a skein ; and he confessed that he had procured it and pilvcs, as had also many others, by desire of the priests. r No. VII. The Garden-plot. 170Q. When Naboth's vineyard iook'd so fine, The King cried out, " Would this were mine And yet no reason could prevail To bring the owner to a sale. Jezebel saw with haughty pride. How Ahab griev'd to be denied ; And thus accosted him with scorn : Shall Naboth make a Monarch mourn ? A King, and weep ! The ground's your own . I'll vest the garden in the Grown. With that she hatch 'd a plot, and made Poor Naboth answer with Iiis head ; And when his harmless blood was spilt. The ground became his forfeit guilt. Poor Hall, renown'd for comely hair. Whose hands perhaps were not so fair, Yet had a Jezebel as near ; Hall, of small Scripture conversation, Yetj howe'er Hungerford's quotation. By 104 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT. By soire strange accident had got The story of this garden-plot; — Wisely foresaw he might have reason To dread a modern bill of treason. If Jezebel should please to want His small addition to her grant : Therefore resolv'd in humble sort To begin first, and make his court; And, seeing nothing else would do. Gave a third part, to save the other two. *** This Piece, taken from the same jMS. as all the preceding, is believed to be the production of Swift. The reasons are ; J St. That Swift mentions, in his Character of Lord Wharton, a story somewhat similar to this, in the case of Mr. Pn^by, Surgeon General of Ireland : xdly. Swift had a piece of ground, which he used to denomi- nate — JS'aboth's Garden orVineyaitJ. No. YIIL On the Chiirdis Dansrer. 'b' Good Halifax and pious Wharton cry, ^' The Chtirch has vapours ; there's no danger nigh.' In those we love not, we no danger see. And were they hang'd, there would no danger be. But we must silent be, amidst our fears. And not believe our senses, but the Peers. So ravishers, that know no sense of shame. First stop her mouth, and then debauch the dame. No. I^IECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 105 No. IX. A Pcem on High Church. High Church is undone. As sure as a gun. For old Peter Patch is departed ; And Eyres and Delaune, And the rest of that spawn. Are tacking about broken-hearted. For strong Gill of Sarum, That decQctum amarum. Has prescribed a dose of cant- fail ; Which will make them resign Their flasks of French wine. And spice up their Nottingham ale. It purges the spleen Of dislike to the Queen, And has one effect that is odder ; When easement they use. They always will choose The Conformity Bill for bumfodder. *.^* Both these are copied from tlie same MS. The first of them I believe to have Swift for its author, iirom considering what She- ridan has mentioned in Swift's Life concerning Lord Halifax, — and also from what Swift himself mentions in his Correspondence. The idea of ascribing vapours to tlie Church, may probably have suggested to the author of the History of John BuU^ the notion of representing John Bull's mother in a sick state. In the next piece. No. JX., the prescribing Doctor is Bishop Burnet, who is satirized by Swift in his acknowledged Works. Whether this last was written by him, I am uncertain. Its date J su])pose i 7 1 J . 2 No. 106 PTECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. No. X. On January XXXlh, Janus, you usher in a thing, Strange and new, — a martyr'd King. Your altar who would worship more ? Who takes delight in Royal gore? And with a Monarch's sacred head. Will paint your calendar in red .'* Sure you dispatch'd your work in haste. Before another day was past. For fear the mischief should be o'er. Had you but stay'd to shut your door. How well does Janus represent Fanaticks in a Government ! Jealous of every prying eye. Close and conceal'd in peace they lie ; ]3ut when the din of war they hear, Both quickly open and appear ; Both seem for peace, both thirst for blood. Both wear two faces in one hood. *^ This is taken, not from the Lanesborough MS,, but from a Senior Lecturers Book, -where it is entered as the composition of Narcissus Charles Proby, about the year 1720. I suspect it to be Swift's : and think it probable that this Proby was a friend of bis, and perhaps related to the Proby I ha^e before mentioned in note on No. VII. p. J 03. 3PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 307 *^* To the foregoing " Pieces ascribed to Swift," /•j/ Dr. Barrett, the Editor of the Deans IVurhs takes this opportimily of annexing Two /Irticles, ivhich 2uere before submitted to the Publick in the Supplement of 1779- No. I. The Swan Tripe Club in Dublin. A satire: JDeJicated to all those who are true Friends to her present Majesty and her Government, to the Church of England, and the Suc- cession as by Law established ; and who gratefully acknowledge the preservation of their Religion, Rights, and Liberties, due to the late King ^V illiam, of ever glorious and immortal Memory. Printed from the original Dublin Edition * of 1706". Difficile est J^atyram non scribe re. HOW this fantastic world is chang'd of late ! Sure some full moon has work'd upon the state. Time was, when it was question'd much in story. Which was the worst, the Devil, or a Tory ; But now, alas 1 those happy times are o'er ; The rampant things are couchant now no more, But trump up Tories, who were Whigs before -}-. There * Re-printed at London by Mr. Tonson, in 170(), and by him ascribed to the author of " The Tale of a Tub." 'i'he judicious Kiader, we apprehend, will acknov/ledge it reilects uo discredit on the Dean. N. + Ihe Letter from a Member of the House of Commons in Irc- Lind to a Membsr of the House of Commons in England, concern- ing 103 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. ' There was a time, when fair Hibernia lay ^ Dissoh''(J in ease, and with a gentle sway V ' Enjoy 'd the blessings of a halcyon day. 3 Pleas'd with the bliss their friendly union made, "J Beneath her bending fig-tree's peaceful shade > Careless and free her happy sons were laid. j No feuds, no groundless jealousies, appear. To rouse their rage, or wake them into fear ; With pity they beheld Britannia's state, Tost by the tempest of a stormy fate ; Wild Frenzy through her blasted borders pass'd. Whilst noisy Faction drove the furious blast : Cahii and serene we heard the tempest roar. And fearless view'd the danger from the shore. Thus blest, we slumber'd in a downy trance, Happy, like Eden, in mild ignorance ; Till Piscord, like the wily serpent^ found Th' unguarded path to the forbidden ground ; Shew'd us the tree, the tempting tree, which stood The fairest, but most fatal^ of the wood ; And where (ag hanging on the golden bough) 1'he glittering fruit look'd smiling to the view. " Taste, and be wise," the sly Provoker said. And see the platform of your ruin laid : Rouze from the dulness ye too long have shown,, And view your Church's danger, and your own. Thus at superior wit we catch"d in haste. Which mock'd the approach of our deluded taste. And now iug the Sacramental Test, vol. HI. p. 2^7, will best explain Dr. Swift's real opinion of the terms Whig and Tory, as used in seve- ral of his writings. He tliere delineates satisfactorily his own po- litical principles 3 from which, we are assured, he never swerved throughout his whole life. See Mr. Deane Swift's Essay, p. liiO. N. Imaginary flECES ASCIUBED TO SWIFT. 10^ Imaginary schemes we seem to spy, And search for dangers with a curious eye ; From thought to thought we roll, and rack our sense^ To obviate mischiefs in the future tense : Strange plots in embryo from the Lord we fear; And dream of mighty ills, the Lord knows where 1 Wretchedly wise, we curse our present store. But bless the witless age we knew before. Near that fam'd place * where slender wights resort. And gay Pulvilio keeps his scented court ; Where exil'd wit ne'er shews its hated face. But happier nonsense fills tlie thoughtless place ; Where sucking beaux,, our future Jiopes, are bred;. The sharping gamester, and the bully red, O'er-stock'^d with fame, but indigent of bread ; There stands a modern dome -jr of vast renown. For a plump cook and plumper reck'^nings known: Rais'd high, the fair inviting bird you see. In all his milky plumes, and feather'd lechery ; In whose soft down immortal Jove was drest. When the fair Nymph the wily god possest ; Still in which shape he stands to mortal view. Patron of whoring, and of toping too. Here gravely meet the worthy sons of zeal. To wet their pious clay, and decently to rail : Immortal courage from the claret springs. To censure heroes, and the aces of kings : Young doctors of the gown here shrewdly shov/y How grace divine can ebb, and spleen can flow ;. The pious red-coat most devoutly swears. Drinks to the Church, but ticks on his arrears ;. } • Lucas's Coffee-house. i The Swan Tavern. Ti)e 110 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWlP'#. The gentle beau too joins in wise debate. Adjusts his cravat, and reforms the state. As when the sun, on a returning flood. Warms into life the animated mud ; Strange wondrous insects on the shore remain,- And a new race of vermin fills the plain : So from the excrement of zeal we find, A slimy race, but of the modish kind, Crawl from the filth, and, kindled into man. Make up the members of the sage Divan. Of these the fam'd Borachio is the chief, • A son of pudding and eternal beef: The jovial god, with all-inspiring grace, Sits on the scarlet honours of his face ; His happy face, from rigid v/isdom free^ "S Securely smiles in thoughdess m.ajesty ; S. His own tithe geese not half so plump as he. } Wild notions flow from his immoderate head, And statutes quoted, — moderately read ; Whole floods of words his moderate wit reveal. Yet the good man's immoderate in zeal. How can his fluent tongue and thought keep toncb. Who thinks too little, but who talks too much ? When peaceful tars with Gallic navies meet, Aud lose their honour, to preserve the fleet ; This wondrous man alone shall conquest boast. And win the battles which the heroes lost. When just esteem he would of William raise, He damns the glories which he means to praise j The poor encomium, so thinly spread, Lampoons the injured ashes of the dead ; Tiio', for the orator, 'tis said withal, He meant to praise him, if he meant at all. Egregious PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. Ill Egregious Magpye charms the listening throng, Whilst inoffensive satire tips his tongue ; Grey politicks adorn the beardless chit, Of foreign manners, but of native wit ; Scarce wean'd from diddy of his Alma Mater, The cocking thing steps forth tlic Clmrch's Erra Pater : High-flying thoughts his moderate size supply., And wing the towering puppet to the sky ; On brazen wings beat out from native stock, He mounts, and rides upon the weather-cock ; From whence the dull Hibernian Isle he views ; The dull Hibernian Isle he sees, and spews ; He mourns the talent of his wisdom, lost On such a dry inhospitable coast. Thus daws, when perch'd upon a steeple's top, With Oxford strut, and pride superior, hop ; And, whilst on earth their haughty glances throw. Take humble curates but for daws below. Firedrake, a senator of auk ward grace. But fam'd for matchless modesty and face ; With Christian clamour fills the deafen'd room, And prophesies of wondious ills to come. Heaven in a hurry seems to have formed his paste, Fill'd up his spleen, but left his head-piece waste : He thinks, he argues, nay, he prays in haste. When in soil'd sheets the dirty wight is spread, And high-flown schemes for curtains grace the bed, Wild freakish Fancy, with her airy train. Whirls thro' the empty region of his brain ; Shews him the Church, just tottVing on his head, And all her mangled sons around her >pread ; Paints out himself, of all his hopes beguil'd. And his domestic Sicorax defil'd : Then, } 112 riECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. Then, kindling at the sight, he flies about. And puts dissenting squadrons to the rout ; Brim-full of wrath, he plunges into strife. And thumps the passive carcase of his wife ; He routs the flying foe, he scours the plain. And boldly fights the visionary scene. Th' Apollo of the cause old Grimbeard stands. And all th' inferior fry of wit commands ; Nurs'd up in faction, and a foe to peace. He robs his bones of necessary ease ; Drunk with inveterate spleen, he scorns his age. And Nature's lowest ebb supplies with sprightly rage. Cold driveling Time has all his nerves unstrung. But left untouch'd his lechery of tongue ; His lechery of tongue, which still remains, And adds a friendly aid to want of brains : He blames the dulness of his party's sloth. And chides the fears of their unactive youth ;. Tells them, the time, the happy time is come. When moderation shall behold its doom ; When sniveling mercy shall no more beguile. But Christian force and pious rage shall smile ; Warns them against those dangers to provide, "J Those dangers which his spectacles have spied, v Dark and unknown to all the world beside! 3 Hail, venerable man, design'd by fate The saving genius of a sinking state ! Lo, prostrate at thy feet we trembling fall, Thou great twin idol of the thundVing Baal ! How shall thy votaries thy wrath assuage. Unbend thy frowns, and deprecate thy rage ? Millions of victims shall thy altars soil ; Heroes shall bleed, and Treasurers shall broil ; Thv PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT, 113 Thy peerless worth shall in our lays be sung : O, bend thy stubborn rage, and sheath thy dreadful tongue ! Nutbrain, a daggle-govvn of large renown. For weak support to needy client known ; With painted dangers keeps his inob in awe. And shrewdly construes faction into law. When Albion's Senate wav'd its fatal wand. And with their hungry locusts curst the land. Our fruitful Egypt, with the load opprest. Beheld with grief its happy fields laid waste; With watery eyes, and with a mother's pain, She heard the nation groan, but heard in vain ; Till, gorg'd with prey, they took the favourite wind, And left this straggling vermin here behind : Too well he lik'd our fruitful Egypt's plain, To trot to hungry Westminster again. Say, blind Hibernia, for vvliat charms unknown Ye adopt a man, whom ye should blush to own : Beggar'd and spoil'd of all your wealthy store. Yet hug the viper, whom ye curs'd before. Is this the pious champion of your cause. Who robs your offspring, to protect your laws ; Slily distills his venom to the root. And blasts the tree from whence he plucks the fruit ? Who sees your ruin, which he smiles to see ; Whose gain's his heaven, ami whose god's a fee ? In the first rank fam'd Sooterkin is seen. Of happy visage, and enchanting mien, A lazy modish son of melancholy spleen : Whose every feature flourishes in print, And early pride fiirst taught the vouth to squint. X ' What I 1 I 114 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPf. What niggard father would begrudge his brass, When travell'd son doth homebred boy surpass ; Went out a fopling, and return'd an ass? Of thought so dark, that no erroneous hit E'er shew'd the lucid beauties of his wit. When scanty fee expects a healing pill, With careless yawn he nods upon the bill, Secure to hit — who never fails to kill. When costive punk, in penitential case. Sits squeezing out her soul in vile grimace, To ease his patient, he prescribes — his face 1 Well may the wretcli a Providence disown, Who thinks no wisdom brighter than his own : Long since he left Religion in the lurch, 1 Who yet would raise the glories of the Church, ! And stickles for its rights, who ne'er comes near j the porch. J Immortal Crab stands firmly to the truth, And with sage nod commands the list'ning youth ; In whom rank spleen has all its vigour shewn. And blended all its curses into one ; 0'er-flov;ing gall has chang'd the crimson flood. And turn'd to' vinegar the wretch's blood. Nightly on bended knees the musty put Still saints the spigot, and adores the butt ; With fervent zeal the flowing liquor plies. But damns the moderate bottle for its size. His liquid vows cut swiftly thro' the air. When glorious red has whetted him to prayer ; Thrifty of time, and frugal of his ways. Tippling he rails, and as he rails he prays. In the sage list, great Mooncalf is enroll'd, Fam'd as the Delphic Oracle of old. Propitious PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT- 115 Propitious Daliiess, and a senseless joy, Shone at his birth, and blest the hopeful boy ; Who utters wonders without sense of pain, And scorns the crabbed labour of liis brain. Fleeting as air, his words outstrip the wind. Whilst the sage tardy meaning lags behind. No saifcy foresight dares his will controul. Or stop th' impetuous motion of his soul ; His soul, which struggles in her dark abode, Crush'd and p'erlay'd with the unwieldy load : Prevailing dullness did his sense betray, And cramp'd his reason, to extend his clay ; His wit contracted to a narrow span, A yard of ideot to an inch of man. Hail, mighty Dunce, thou largest of thy kind. How well thy mien is suited to thy mind! What if the Lords and Commons can't agree. Thou dear, dull, happy thing, what is't to thee ? Sit down contented with thy pre-ent store, Heaven ne'er design'd thee to be wise and poor : Trust to thy fate ; whatever parties join, Thy want of wit obstructs thy want of coin. As when imperial Rome beheld her state Grown faint, and struggling with impending fate; When barb'rous nations on her ruins trod. And no kind Jove appear'd her guardian god ; A sacred goose could all her fears disperse, And save the Mistress of the Universe : Of equal fame the great example be. Our Church's safety we expect from thee : In thee, great man, the saving brood remains. Of equal piety, and equal brains ; In this we difter but in point of name : Unlike theHQmans we; but thou^ our goose, the same. 11 And Il6 PtECES ASSCRIBED TO SWIFT. And now with solemn grace the Council sat, And the third flask had rais'd a warm debate ; When Faction, entering, walk'd the giddy maze. Sworn foe and noted enemy to Peace ; And, taking Grimbeard's shape, she silence broke, And in shrill voice the eager Fury spoke : " Be witness. Heaven, how much I'm pleas'd to find Such gallant friends, and of so brave a mind ; Souls fit to rule the world, and proudly sit The noblest sons of piety and wit. Uncommon vigour in your looks I spy, Resolv'd the utmost of your force to try ; Bravely to stickle for your Church's laws. And shed a generous influence on her cause. See, how with grief she hangs her pensive head, "J Whilst trickling tears upon her garments shed, > Mourn all her lustre and her beauty fled : J In hair dishevel'd, and with bosom bare. With melancholy sounds she fills the air. Would ye, my friends, the weighty business know. And learn the cruel reason of her woe ? The cause she has to grieve, the world believes. Is this — hem — hem — why, 'tis enough, she grieves : What sons from tears their flinty souls can keep. And with dry eyes behold their mother weep ? Ah ! stop the deluge of her watery store. And let her taste those joys she felt before ! " When William (curse upon that hated name. For ever blotted and unknown to fame !) Wlien William in imperial glory shone. And, to our grief, possess'd Britannia's throne : Mark with what malice he our Church debas'd. Her sons neglected, and her rites defac'd : To PIECES ASCIllEF.D TO SWIFT. 117 To canting zeal dcsign'd her form a slave. And meant to ruin what he came to save. What tho' the world he fill'd with his alarms, And fainting Gallia trembled at his arms ; Yet still the doughty hero did no more Than Julius once, and Ammon did before. Is this the idol of the people's love, The poor mock- puppet of a ruling Jove ? Sorrel, we owe his hasty fate * to thee, "^ Thou lucky horse ; oh ! may thy memory be ^ Fragrant to all, as it is sweet to me ! j Too far, I fear, the vile infection's spread, ~\ Since Anna courts the party which he led, V And treads the hated footsteps of the dead. j If so, what now can we expect to hear. But black effects of those damn'd ills we fear? Your fat endowments shall be torn away. And to Geneva zeal become an easy prey ; Cold element shall give your guts the gripes. And, ah ! no more you shall indulge in tripes. No Sunday pudding shall adorn the board. Or burn the chaps of its too eager lord : No gentle Abigail shall caudles make. Nor cook the jellies for the chaplain's back ; Long-winded schismaticks shall rule the roast. And Father Christmas mourn his revels lost. Rouze then, my friends, and all your forces join, And act with vigour in our great design. What though our danger is not really great, 'Tis brave to oj^pose a government we hatie : * King William, who was a foxhunter, fell from his hone, Sor- rol, in riding from Kensington to Hampton Court, and broke his ■•oUar-bone, Feb. 21^ 170U-1 ; he died on the bth of March. N. Poison lis PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, Poison the nation with your jealous fears. And set the fools together by the ears : Whilst with malicious joy we calmly sit. And smile to see the triumphs of our wit : Sound well the College ; and with nicest skill Inflame the beardless boys, and bend them to your will. What though unmov'd her learned sons have stood^ Nor sacrific'd to spleen their country's good ; Yet search the tree, and sure there may be found Some branches tainted, though the trunk be sound: Shew them the lure which never fails lo hit ; Approve their briskness, and admire their wit. Youth against flattery has no defence, Fools still are cheated with the bait of sense ; Glean e'en the schools from lechery and birch. And teach the youngsters to defend the Church. 'Tis fools we want, and of the largest size ; 'Twould spoil our cause to practise on the wise : The wise are e^igles of the sharpest ken, And calmly weigh the merits and the men ; pierce thro' the cobweb veil of erring sense. And know the truth of zeal from the pretence : Whilst fools, like game-cocks, are the slaves of show. And never ask a cause, but fly upon the foe : Chance only guides them wandering in the night. When in an age they stumble on the right : God never gave a fool the gift of sight." He said : — with joy the pleas'd assembly rose ; *' Well mov'd," they cried ; and murmur'd their ap- plause ; When, lo, before the Board, confess'd in sight, Stept forth a heavenly guest, serenely bright ; 1 NJO f PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. IIQ No mortal beauty could with lier's compare. Or poet's fancy form a maid so fair ; Around her head immortal glories shine, And her mild air confess'd the nymph divine ; Whilst thus she spake: " Ask not, my frighted sons, from whence I came, But mark me well ; Religion is my name ; An angel once, but now a fury grown, Too often talk'd of, but too little known.: Is it for me, my sons, that ye engage, And spend the fury of your idle rage ? 'Tis false ; unmanly spleen your bosoms warms. And a pretended zeal your fancy charms. Where have I taught you, in the sacred page, To construe moderation into rage ; To affront the power from whence your safety springs. And poorly blast the memory of kings? Branded with infamy, ye shun the light. But court, like birds obscene, the covert of the night. Is then unlawful riot fit to be The great supporter of my Church and me ? Think ye, weak men, she's of her foes afraid. Or wants the assistance of your feeble aid ? When round her throne seraphic* warriors stand. And form upon her side a heavenly band : When, fixt as fate, her deep foundation lies. And spreads where-e'er my Anna's glory flies. Think on th' intended ruins of the day, W^hen to proud Rome ye were designed a prey/. With wonder read those fatal times again, And call to mind the melancholy scene ; When down its rapid stream the torrent bore Your country's laws, and safety was no more ; Torn 120 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. Torn from your altars, ye were forc'd to roam In needy exile from your native home. 'Twas then, my sons, your mighty William rose, And bravely fell like light'ning on your foes : With royal pity he deplor'd your fate, And stood the Atlas of your sinking state. When sacrifice on idol altars slain Polluted all the isle, and dy'd the plain ; Rome's mob of saints did all your temples fill. And consecrated groves crown'd every hill : 'Twas then, Josiah-like. that he defac'd Their Pagan rites, and laid their altars waste ; Drove out their idols from their lov'd abodes. And pounded into dust their molten gods : Israel's true Lord was to his rule restor'd. Again his name was heard, and was again ador'd. '• Wond'ring, ye saw your great Deliverer come^ But, while he warr'd abroad, ye rail'd at home ; Dreadfully gay in arms, but scorn'd in peace, The useless buckler of inglorious ease : O poor and short-liv'd glory and renown ! O false unenvicd pleasures of a crown ! So soon are all thy shining honours fled, Traduc'd while living, and defam'd when dead. Strange fate of heroes, who like comets blaze. And with a sudden light the world amaze : But when with fading beams they quit the skies. No pnore to shine the wonder of our eyes ; Their glories spent, and all their fiery store. We scorn the omens which we fear'd before ! '' My Royal Anne, whom every virtue crowns. Feels your ill-govern'd rage, nor 'scapes your frowns ; Your want of duty ye supply with spight. Traduce her councils, and her heroes slight ; Lampoon PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. l^t Lampoon the mildness of lier easy sway, And sicken at the light of her superior day ; Poison her sweets of life with groundless fears, And fill her royal breast with raixious cares. What ! such a Queen, where Art and Nature join To hit tiie copy of a form divine : Unerring Wisdom purg'd the dross away, And form'd your Anna of a nobler clay ; Breathing a soul, in which in glory shone Goodness innate, and virtue like its own : She knows how far engaging sweetness charms. And conquers more by mildness than by arms ; Like Sampson's riddle in the sacred song, A springing sweet still flowing from the strong; Like hasty sparks her slow resentment dies. Her rigour lagging, but her mercy flies. Hciil, pious Princess ! mightiest of thy name. Though last begotten, yet the first in fame : Those glorious heroines we in story see, Were but the fainter types of greater thee Let others take a lustre from the throne ; You shine with brighter glories of your own, Add worth to worth, and dignify a Crown. Oft have I mark'd, with what a studious care My words you ponder, and my laws revere : To thee, great Queen, what elogies are due. Who both protect the flock, and feed the shepherds too!* For which I still preside o'er thy alarms. And add a shining lustre to thy arms : I form'd the battle, and I gave the word. And rode with conquest on thy Ormond's sword ; * Alluding to her grants to the Clergy. N. When } 123 ?IECES ASCBIBED TO SWlS'T, When Anjou*s fleet yielded its Indian store, And at thy sacred feet depos'd the silver ore ; I sent the goddess, when Victoria came, 1 And rais'd thy Churchill to immortal fame, ! And Hochstet's bloody field advanc'd the hero's i name. j JsTor shall thy glories or thy triumphs cease, /But thy rough wars shall soften into peace. Charles * shall from thee his diadem receive. And shining pomp which you alone can give ; The Gallic Lion, list'ning at his shore, "J Shall fear to tempt the British dangers more, S- But sculk in desarts where he used to roar : j Admiring worlds before thy throne shall stand. And willing nations bend to thy command. " For you, ye inveterate enemies to peace. Whom Kings can ne'er oblige, nor Heaven can please ; Who blindly zealous into faction run, And make those dangers you'd be thought to shun ; For shame, the transports of your rage give o'er. And let your civil feuds be heard no more : To the wise conduct of my Anna trust ; Know your own good, and to yourselves be just; And, when with grief you see your brother stray. Or in a night of error lose his way. Direct his wandering, and restore the day. To guide his steps, afford your kindest aid. And gently pity whom ye can't persuade ; Leave to avenging Heaven his stubborn will. For, O, remember, he's your brother still : * The Archduke Charles. N. Let ray, J >IECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 1!23 Let healing mercy through your actions shine, And let your Hves confess your cause divine." Frowning, the Goddess spoke, and strait withdrew. Scattering ambrosial odours as she fiew ; Her trembling sons, immoderately scar'd. Fled from th' uneasy truths which suddenly they heard. No. 11. The famous Speech-maker of England, or Baron (alias Barren) Lovel's Charge * at the Assizes at Exon^ April 5, 17 10. -Piisum teneatis ?■ From London to Exon, By special direction, Came down the world's wonder. Sir Salathiel Blunder, With a quoif on his head ^ As heavy as lead ; (. And thus open'd and said : j Gentlemen of the Grand Inquest, Her Majesty, mark it. Appointed this circuit For me and my brother. Before any other ; To execute laws. As you may suppose, * See the original charge in the Examiner, 1745, No. J, p. 55. -Sir Salathiel Lovel died May 3, 171?. N, Upon I2i PIECES ASCfllBED I'O SWlPTy Upon such as offenders have been : - So then, not to scatter More words on the matter. We're beginning just now to begin. But hold — first and foremost I must enter a clause. As touching and concerning our excellent laws ; Which, here I aver. Are better by far Than them all put together abroad and beyond sea : For I ne'er read the like, nor e'er shall, I fmcy. The laws of our land Don't abet, but withstand, Inquisition and thrall. And whate'er may gall. And fire withal ; And sword that devours Wherever it scowers : They preserve liberty and property, for which men puU and hale so. And they are made for the support of good govern- ment also. Her Majesty, knowing The best way of going To work for the weal of the nation. Builds on that rock. Which all storms will mock, Since Religion is made the foundation. And, I tell you to boot, she Kesolves resolutely. No promotion to give To tlie best man alive. In Church or in State, (Fm an instance of that,) But PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. l2^ Bat only to such of a good reputation For temper, morality, and moderation. Fire ! fire I a wild-fire, * ^ TT ^tF -"S^ Which greatly disturbs the Queen's peace, Lies running about ; And if you don't put it out, (That's positive) will increase : And any may spy, With half of an eye, That it comes from our Priests and Papistical fry. Ye have one of these fellows. With fiery bellows. Come hither to blow and to pufi:" here ; Who having been toss'd From pillar to post. At last vents his rascally stuff here : Which to such as are honest must sound very oddly. When they ought to preach nothing but what's very godly ; As here from this place we charge you to do, As ye'll answer to man, besides ye know who. Ye have a Diocesan, * — But I don't know the man ; — They tell me, however. The man's a good liver, And fiery never ! Now, ye under-pullers. That wear such black colours_, 1 f A line seems to be wanting here. N. • Dr. Offspring Blackall, He was made Bishop of Exeter in 1707, and died in 1716'. He published a volume of Sermons in ^vOj 1707 ; re- printed Vv'ith his other works^ in 2vols. folio, 1723. N. How l25 riECES ASCRIBED TO SWiFl?; How wel! would it look. If his measures ye took. Thus for head and for rump Together to jump ; For there's none deserve places, i I speak't to their faces, ! But men of such graces, f And I hope he will never prefer any asses : j Especially when I'm so confident on't, For reasons of state, that her Majesty won't. Know, I myself I Was present and by. At the great trial, Vv'here there was a great company. Of a tuibulent Preacher, who, cursedly hot, 1 Turn'd the fifth of November, even the gun-powder I plot, ^ Into impudent railing, and the devil knows what : j Exclaiming like fury — it was at Paul's, London — How Church was in danger, and like to be undone. And so gave the lie to gracious Queen Anne ; And, which is far worse, to our Parliament-men : And then printed a book. Into which men did look : True, he made a good text ; But what folio w'd next Was nought but a dunghill of sordid abuses. Instead of sound doctrine, with proofs to't, and uses. It was high time of day That such inflamma- tion should be extinguish'd without more delay : But there was no engine could possibly do't. Till the Commons play'd theirs, and so quite put it out. So the man was tried for't. Before highest court *, No\y ^>ECES ASCRIBED to SWIFT. ^2? Now its plain to be seen, It's his principles I mean, Where they sufFer'd this noisy and his lawyers to bellow : Which over, the blade A poor punishment had For that racket he made. By which ye may know They thought as I do. That he is but at best an inconsiderable fellow. Upon this I find here. And every where, That the country rides rusty, and is all out of gear And for what ? May I not In opinion vary, And think the contrary. But it must create "J Unfriendly debate, > And disunion straight ; 3 When no reason in nature -\ Can be given of the matter, f Any more than for shapes or for different C stature? " J If you love your dear selves, your Religion, or Queen, Ye ought in good manners to be peaceable men : For nothing disgusts her Like making a bluster ; And your making this riot, Is what she could cry at. Since all her concern's for our welfare and quiet, I would ask any man Of them all that maintain Their } 155 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIF "^ Their Passive Obedience With such mighty vehemence. That damn'd doctrine, I trow ! What he means by it, ho'. To trump it up now ? Or to tell me, in short, What need there is for't ? Ye may say, I am hot ; I say I am not ; Only warm, as the subject on which I am got. There are those alive yet, If they do not forget, May remember w^hat mischiefs it did Church and State ; Or at least must have heard The deplorable calamities It drew upon families. About sixty years ago, and upward. And now, do ye see. Whoever they be, That make such an oration In our Protestant nation. As though Church was all on a fire, — With whatever cloak They may cover their talk. And wheedle the folk. That the oaths they have took. As our Governors, strictly require ; — I say they are men — (and I'm a Judge, ye all know,) That would our most excellent laws overthrow ; For the greater part of them to church never go ; Or, what's much the same, it by very great chance is. If e'er they partafcs of her wise ordinances. Their ] } t>IECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 129 1 1 is, I as- r Their aim is, no doubt, Were they made to speak out, To pluck down the Queen, that they make all this rout ; And to set up, moreover, 1 A bastardly brother ; 5" Or at least to prevent the House of Hanover. J Ye Gentlemen of the Jury, What means all this fury, Of which I'm inform'd by good hands^ sure ye ; This insulting of persons by blows and rude speeches. And breaking of windows, which, you know, maketh breaches ? Ye ought to resent it, 1 And in duty present it, V For the law is against it : 3 Not only the actors engag'd in this job, But those that encourage and set on the mob : The mob, a paw word, and which I ne'er mention, But must in this place, for the sake of distinction. I hear that some bailiffs and some justices Have strove what they could, all this rage to suppress; And I hope many more Will exert the like power. Since none will, depend on't. Get a jot of preferment. But men of this kidney, as I told you before. — I'll tell you a story : Once upon a time Some hot-headed fellows must needs take a wlum. And so were so weak ('Twas a mighty mistake) To pull down and abuse Bawdy-houses and stews ; K Who, JbSO PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, Who, tried by the laws of the realm for high-treason^ Were hang'd, drawn, and q uarter'd, for that very reason. When the time came about For us all to set out, We went to take leave of the Queen ; Where were great men of worth, Great heads, and so forth, The greatest that ever were seen : And she gave us a large And particular charge; — Good part on*t indeed ") Is quite out of my head ; — V But. I remember she said, 3 We should' ixjcommend peace and good neighbour- bourhood, where- soever * we came ; and so I do here ; For that every one^ not only men and their wives, Should do all that they can to lead peaceable lives ; And told us withal, that she fully expected A special account how ye all stood affected ; When we've been at St. James's,, you'll hear of the matter. Again then I charge ye. Ye men of the Clergy, That ye follow the track all Of your own Bishop Blackall, x\nd preach, as ye should. What's savoury and good ; And together all cling. As it were in a string ; * This is perfectly Swiftian j and indeed ihe whole of this parody is strongly marked with the spirit of the Deanj and tends to confirm the authenticity of the preceding parodies. N. 5 Not PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 131 Not falling out, quarrelling one with another. Now we're treating with Monsieur, — that son of his mother. Tfien proceeded on the common matters of the Law ; and concluded. Once more, and no more, since few words are best, I charge you all present, by way of request, If ye honour, as I do, Our dear Royal Widow, Or have any compassion For Church or the Nation ; And would live a long while In continual smile. And eat roast and boil, And not be forgotten, When ye are dead and rotten ; That ye would be quiet and peaceably dwell. And never fall oat, but p — s all in a quill. *»* This Parody was inserted, by the present Editor, ip the Supplement to Swift's Works, 1779. N. } K3 132 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT, OVIDIANA, COMMUNICATED BY DR. BARRETT. No. I. J Poem, occasioned bi/ the Hangings in the Castle of Dublin, in which the Story of Phaeton is ex- j^ pressed. * i NOT asking or expecting ought. One day I went to view the Court, Unbent and free from care or thought, Tho' thither fears and hopes resort. A piece of tapestry took my eye. The faded colours spoke it old ; But wrought with curious imagery. The figures lively seem'd and bold. Here you might see the youth prevail, (In vain are eloquence and wit,) The boy persists, Apollo's frail ; Wisdom to Nature does submit. There mounts the eager charioteer. Soon from his seat he's downward hurl'd ; Heje Jove in anger doth appear, There all, beneath, the flaming world. What riECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 13< What does this idle fiction mean ? is Truth at Court in such disgrace, It may not on the walls be seen, Nor e'€n in picture show its face ? No, no, 'tis not a senseless tale. By sweet-tongu'd Ovid dress'd so fine ; It does important truths conceal. And here was plac'd by wise design. A lesson deep with learning fraught. Worthy the cabinet of Kings ; Fit subject of their constant thought. In matchless verse the Poet sings. Well should he weigh, who does aspire To empire, whether truly great. His head, his heart, his hand conspire. To make him equal to that seat. If only fond desire of sway. By avarice or ambition fed. Make him aftect to guide the day, Alas, what strange confusion's bred If, either void of princely care. Remiss he holds the slacken'd rein : If rising heats or mad career, Unskiird, he knows not to restrain Or if, perhaps, he gives a loose. In wanton pride to show his skill. How easily he can reduce And curb the people's rage at will ; Jn 134 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT* In wild uproar they hurry on ; — The great, the good, the just, the wise, (Law and Religion overthrown,) Are first mark'd out for sacrifice. When, to a height their fury grown^ Finding too late he can't retire. He proves the real Phaeton, And truly sets the world on fire. No. 11. The Story of Okpheus, burlesqued. Orpheus, a one-ey'd blearing Thracian, "J The Crowder of that barb'rous nation, > Was ballad- singer by vocation ; j Who up and down the country strolling,. And with his strains the mob cajoling, CharmM 'em as much as each man knows Our modern farces do our beaux : To hear whose voice they left their houses. Their food, their handicrafts, and spouses ; Whilst, by the mercury of his song, He threw the staring, gaping throng (A thing deserving admiration,) Into a copious salivatiop. From hence came all those monstrous stories. That to his lays wild beasts danc'd borees ; That after him, where'er he rambled, •^ The lion ramp'd, and the bear gambol'd, i And rocks and caves (their houses) ambled : j For sure, the monster Mob includes All beasts, stones, stocks, in solitudes. ■ He PIECES ASCRIRED TO SWIPT. 135 He had a spouse, yclep'd Eurydice, As tight a lass as e'er your eye did see ; Who being caress'd one day by Morpheus, In absence of her husband, Orpheus, As in the god's embrace she lay, "J Died, not by metaphor they say, .>• But the ungrateful literal way : j For a Modern's * pleas'd to say by*t, From sleep to death there's but a way-bit. -|- Orpheus at first, to appearance grieving, For one he had oft wish'd damn'd, while living, That he may play her, her farewell, Resolv'd to take a turn to hell : (For spouse he guess'd was gone to the devil) There was a husband damnably civil. Playing a merry strain that day, ^ Upon th' Infernal King's highway, > He caper'd on, as who should say, j Since spouse has pass'd the Stygian ferry. Since spouse is damn'd, I will be merry : And wights who travel that way daily. Jog on by his example gaily. Thus scraping, he to hell advanc'd ; When he came there, the Devil danc'd ; All hell was with the frolic taken : And with a huge huzza was shaken. All hell broke loose, and they who were -i One moment past plung'd in despair, I , Sung, Hang sorrow, cast away care. J But Pluto, with a spiteful prank. Ungrateful devil, did Orpheus thank. ' Tasso. t The author has written " waj/-h\t," instead of " wee-bit," the northern phrase, signifying a small space, for the sake of the rhyme. N. Orpheus, 136 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT. Orpheus, said he, I like thy strain So well, that here's thy wife again : But on those terms receive the blessing, 'Till thou'rt on earth, forbear possessing. He who has play'd like thee in hell, Might e'en do t'other thing as well ; And shades of our eternal night Were not design 'd for such delight : Therefore, if such in hell thou usest. Thy spouse immediately thou losest. Quoth Orpheus, I am manacled, I see : You and your gift be damn'd, thought he; And shall be, if my skill don't fail me. And if the devil does not ail me. Now Orpheus saw importance free. By which once more a slave was he. The damn'd chang'd presently their notes. And stretch'd with hideous howl their throats ; And two and two together link'd. Their chains with horrid music clink'd; And in the concert, yell and fetlock Express'd the harmony of wedlock. He, by command, then lugg'd his dowdy To Acheron, with many a how-d'ye ; But, as the boat was tow'rd them steering. The rogue with wicked ogle leering. Darted at her fiery glances. Which kindled in her furious fancies. Her heart did thick as any drum beat. Alarming Amazon to combat. He soon perceives it, and too wise is Not to lay hold on such a crisis : His moiety on the bank he threw. Whilst thousand devils look'd askew. Thus PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 137 Thus spouse, who knew what long repentance Was to ensue by Piuto's sentence, Could not forbear her recreation One poor. half day, to avoid damnation .^ Her irom his arms the Furies wrung, And into hell again they flung. He singing thus, repass'd the ferry, — " Since spouse is damn'd, I will be merry." No. HI. Action ; or the Original o/Horn Fair. Some time about the month of July, Or else our antient authors do lye, Diana, whom poetic noddies Would have us think to be some goddess, (Tho', in plain truth, a witch she was. Who sold grey pease at Ratcliff'-cross) Went to the upsetting of a neighbour, Having before been at her labour. The gossips had of punch a bowl full. Which made them all sing, O be joyful ! A folly took them in the noddle, Their over-heated bums to cx)ddle : So they at Limehouse took a sculler. And cramm'd it so, no Qgg was fuller. With tide of ebb, they got to Eriff, Where Pimchinello once was sheriff. Our jovial crew then made a halt. To drink some Nantz, at what d'ye call't. And 133 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT. And thence, if any car'd a fart for't. Went to a stream that comes from Dartford ; Where all unrigg'd, in good decorum. As naked as their mothers bore them ; And soon their tattling did outdo An Irish howl or hubbubboo. *' O la," cries one, to joke the aptest, *' Methinks Tm grown an Anabaptist. *' If to be dipp'd, to Grace prefers, ^' I'm grac'd and sous'd o'er head and ears," Whilst thus she talk'd, all on a sudden. They grew as mute as hasty-pudding : Daunted at th' unexpected sounds Of hollaing men and yelping hounds. Who soon came up, and stood at bay At those who wish'd themselves away. But, to increase their sad disaster. After the curs appear'd their master ; Actseon narn'd, a country gent. Who hard by somewhere liv'd in Kent ; And hunting lov'd more than his victuals. And cry of hounds, 'bove sound of fiddles. He saw his dogs neglect their sport. Having sprung game of better sort ; Which put him in a fit of laughter. Not dreaming what was coming after. Bless me ! how the young lecher star'd ! How pleasingly the spark was scar'd ! With hidden charms his eyes he fed. And to our females thus he said : " Hey, jingo ! what the de'ePs the matter ; Do mermaids swim in Dartford water ? The poets tell us, they have skill in That sweet melodious art of singing : If PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWJPT. |39 If to that tribe you do belong, Faith, ladies, come, — let's have a song. What, silent I ne'er a word to spare me? Nay, frown not, for you cannot scare me. Ha, now I see you are mere females, Made to delight and pleasure us males. Faith, ladies, do not tliink me lavish. If five or six of you I ravish. I'gad, I must." This did so frigtiten The gossips, they seem'd thunder-smitten. At last Diana takes upon her To vindicate their injur'd honour; And by some necromantic spells. Strong charms, witchcral't, or something else. In twinkling of the shell of oyster, Transmogrified the rampant royster Into a thing some call a no-man. Unfit to love or please a woman. , The poets, who love to deceive you, (For, once believe them, who'd believe you r) Say that, to quench his lecherous fire. Into a stag slie chang'd the squire ; Which made him fly o'er hedges skipping, 'Till his own hounds had spoil'd his tripping. But I, who am less given to lying, Than jolly rakes to think of dying, Do truly tell you here between us. She only spoil'd the spark for Venus ; Which soon his blood did so much alter, He car'd for love less than for haltei- : No more the sight of naked beauty Could prompt his vigour to its duty : And in this case, you may believe, He hardly stay'd to take his leave. He 140 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. He had a wife, and she, poor woman. Soon found in him something uncommon. In vain she striv'd, young, fair, and plump. To rouse to joy the senseless lump. She from a drone, alas ! sought honey. And from an empty pocket money. Thus us'd, she for her ease contrives _, That sweet revenge of slighted wives ; And soon of horns a pair most florid Were by her grafted on his forehead ; At sight of which his shame and anger Made him first curse, then soundly bang her. And then his rage, which over-power'd him, - Made poets say, his dogs devour'd him. At Cuckold's Point he died with sadness ; (Few in his case now shew such madness ;) Whilst gossips, pleas'd at his sad case, Straight fix'd his horns just on the place, Lest the memory on't should be forgotten. When they, poor souls, were dead and rotten ; And then from Queen Dick got a patent. On Charlton Green to set up a tent ; Where once a year, with friends from Wapping, They tell how they were taken napping. The following age improv'd the matter. And made two dishes of a platter. The tent where they used to repair. Is now become a jolly fair ; Where ev'ry eighteenth of October, Comes citizen demure and sober. With basket, shovel, pickaxe, stalking, To make a way for's wife to walk in : Where having laid out single money, In buying horns for dearest honey, O'er PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. 141 O'er furmity, pork, pig, and ale. They cheer their souls, and tell this tale. *»* Of tliese three Pieces I know not the author or authors. But from Swift's having a place which obliged him to an attendance at DubUn Castle, about 1701, and from his having written his first political pamphlet, on the Contests in Athens and Rome, about that time, — which pamphlet seems to convey opinions not unlike those expressed in the first of tliese poems, I have been led to sup- pose, that he perhaps was the author. — ^To me, the writer appears to have designed the four impeached Lords, Orford, Halifax, Port- land, and Somers, under the names of *' The great, the good, the just, the wise," in one of the lines of this poem . Towards the conclusion of No. III. we find a line not unlike one in the Parody on Mr. William Crow's Speech : and in No. II. the rhymes, of " Eurydice" and " as you e'er did see," seem not unlike Swift's riiymes in some of his undoubted pieces. No. ^4*2 PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIFT. No. IV. I have exti-acted from the Lanesborough MS. the following Notes for the poem, entitled " The Swan Tripe Club," which is printed in p. 107 ; Famed Place Lucas's Coffee-house. Modern Dome. ..... Swan Tavern. Borachio Dr. Higgins. Magpye Archdeacon Perceval. Natbrain Mr. Nutley. Sooterkin Dr. Worth. Moon-calf Archdeacon Neile. From pamphlets in the College Library, marked P 16. 2. and 15. 24. 1 learn, that the persons are these : Borachio Parson Higgins. Magpye Parson Perceval. Firedrake Lawyer Echlin. Grimbeard Mr (or Captain) Locke. Nutbrain Lawyer Nutley. Sooterkin Dr. Worth, a physician. Moon-calf Reverend Mr. Radcliffe. ,^ Crab Mr. Hedg Young, or Mr. Hogg Young, tlie late j Lord Chai cellor Porter's [purse] bearer. The PIECES ASCRIBED TO SWIPT. 143 The Lanesborough MS. assigns the following dates to these compositions of Swift : 1. Ballad to Lady B. B [Betty Berl^eley.] Once on a time as old stories . Aug. 1702. 2. Sid Hamet's Rod. ) 3. Vanbrugh's House. In times of old, &c. C 4. Salamander 1 705 5. History of Vanbrugh's House. When 'I Mother Cludd ." I170& 6. Elegy on Partridge . J 7. Description of the Morning. April 17G9. In a pamphlet in my possession, printed at London^ in 17 10, isgiven Swift's Poem on Baucis and Philemon*: which is entitled, *' A Poem on the ever-lamented loss of the two Yew Trees, in the Parish of Chilthorne, near the County Town of Somerset." Agreeably to this, it has some variations from the copy printed in Swift's Works ; which I shall briefly state. — It reads, Disguis'd in habits poor and rent. To a small village in Somerset went. Instead of, " Old Goodman Dobson," &c. it reads, Honest old Goodman Haine of hill. Says, methinks I should see them still. And the last line of the poem is this : So the same parson stubb'd and burnt it. * See Swift's Works, ed. J 808, vol. xvi. p. 74. N. J44 PIECES ASCRIBED TG SWIFT. No.V. From the Lanesborough MS, A SATYR. No wonder storms more dreadful are by far. Than all the losses of a twelve years' war. No wonder Prelates do the Church betray ; Old Statesmen vote and act a different way. No wonder magic arts surround the throne : Old Mother Jennings in her Grace is known. Old England's Genius, rouse ; her charms dispell ; Burn but the witch, and all things will do well.* * The name of tlie author of the above is not mentioned in the MS. , . POEMS, POEMS, That passed between Dean Swift, Sheridan, &c. TAKE.V FROM THE WHIMSICAL MEDLEY * ; And never before printed. ^COMMUNICATED BY DR. BARRETT.] A Couplet, bif Thomas Sheridan -j- ; in continuation of a Poem, printed in Vol, XVI. p. 'iQj . If you say this was made for friend Dan, you belie it: I'll swear he's so like it, that he was made by it. Thomas Sheeidan sculpsit. THE PAF.DON THE suit which hmnbly you have made, Is fully and maturely weigh'd ; And as 'tis your petition, I do forgive, for well I know. Since you're so bruis'd, another blow Would break the head of Priscian, Tis not my purpose or intent That you should suffer banishment ; I pardon, now you've courted; And yet I fear this clemency Will come too late to profit thee. For you're with grief transported. Seep. 85, n. t Whitxibicai Medley, p. 331. Ibid. p. 342. L How^ 140 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. However, this I do command, That you your birch do take in hand. Read concord and syntax on ; The bays, you own, are only mine, Do you then still your nouns decline. Since you've decliu'd Dan Jackson. The last Speech and dying JVords of DanielJackson. MY DEAR COUNTRYMEN, Mediocribus esse poetis Non funes, non gryps, non concessere columnse. To give you a short translation of these two lines from Horace's Art of Poetry, which I have chosen for my neck- verse, before I proceed to my speech, you will find they fall naturally into this sense : For poets who can't tell [high] rocks from stones, The rope, the hangman, and the gallows groans. I was born in a fen near the foot of Mount Par- nassus, commonly called the Logwood Bog. My- mother, whose name was Stanza, conceived me in a dream, and was delivered of me in her sleep. Her dream was, that Apollo, in the shape of a gander with a prodigious long bill, had embraced her; upon which she consulted the Oracle of Delphos, and the following answer was made : You'll have a gosling, call it Dan, And do not make your goose, a swan. Tis true, because the God of Wit '\ To get him in that shape thought fit, \ He'll have some glowworm spaYks of it. j Venture you may to turn him loose, But let it be to another goose. The POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. 147 The time will come, the fatal time. When he shall dare a swan to rhyme ; The tow'ring swan comes sousing down, And hreaks his pinions, cracks his crown. From that sad time and sad disaster, He'll be a lame, crack'd, poetaster. At length, for stealing rhymes and triplets, He 11 be condemn'd to hang in giblets. You see now, gentlemen, this is fatally and literally come to pass; for it was my^nisfortune to engage with that Pindar of the times, Tom Sheridan, who did so confound me by sousing on my crown, and did so batter my pinions, that I was forced to make use of borrowed wings, though my false accusers have de- posed that I stole my feathers from Hopkins, Stern- hold, Silvester, Ogilby, Durfey, &c. for which I now forgive them and all the world. I die a poet, and this ladder shall be my Gradus ad Parnassum, and I hope the critics will have mercy on my works. Then lo, I mount as slowly as I sung. And then I'll make a line for every rung ;* There's nine I see, — the Muses too are nine. Who would refuse to die a death like mine ? 1. Thou first rung, Clio, celebrate my name; 2. Euterp, in tragick numbers do the same. 3. This rung I see Terpsichore's thy flute ; 4. Erato, sing me to the Gods ; ah do't : 5. Thalia, don't make me a comedy ; 6. Urania, raise me tow'rds the starry sky ; 7. Calliope, to ballad-strains descend, 8. And, Polyhymnia, tune them for your friend 9. So shall Melpomene mourn my fatal end. Poor Dan Jackson. • Tlie Yorkshire term for the rounds or steps of a ladder j slill used in every part of Ireland. L 2 The iend ; v I. ) 148 POEMS BY SWIFT ANIT SHERIDAT7. The Dean of St. Patrick's to Thomas Sheridan*.. SIR, I CANNOT but think that we live in a bad age, tempo? a, mores ! as 'tis in the adage. My foot was but just set out from my cathedral, When into my hands comes a letter from the droll. 1 can't pray in quiet for you and your verses ; But now let us hear what the Muse from your car says. Hum — excellent good — your anger was stirrM ; Well, punners and rhymers must have the last word. But let me advise you when next I hear from you, To leave off this passion which does not become you; For we who debate on a subject important. Must argue with calmness, or else will come short on't. For myself, I protest, I care not a fiddle, For a riddle and sieve, or a sieve and a riddle ; And think of the sex as you please, I'd as lieve You call them a riddle, as call them a sieve. Yet still you arc out, (tho' to vex you I'm loth,) Foi- rU prove it impossible they can be both ; A schoolboy knows this, Ibr it plainly appears That a sieve dissolves riddles by help of the shears ; For you can't but liave heard of a trick among wizards. To break open riddles with shears or with scissars. * VMiimsical M-cdley, p. 34(). Tiiis makes part of a series of verses which passed between Swift and Dr. Sheridan. The first of this series was written by Sheridan : — " Dear Dean^ since in cruxes," Sec, Swift's answer begins with this line, — " In reading your letter ajone in my hackney." To this Sheridan repHed : — ■ " Don't think tlicse few lines which I send, a reproach/' &c. All theie have been printed. [See vol. xvi. pp. l^o, 19' •] The poem before us, and the two following, are, a continuation of the same subject. They all appear to have been written in i/lS : though some of them have been improperly ascribed to the sub- --etiuent year. Think POEMS BY SWIFT AND 8HER1DAN. 149 Think again of the sieve, and I'll hokl you a wager, You'll dare not to question my minor or major.* A sieve keeps halt" in, and therefore, no doubt, Like a woman, keeps in less than it lets out. Why sure, Mr. Poet, your head got a jar. By riding this morning too long on your car : Atid I wish your few friends, when they next see your car go, For the sake of your senses would lay an embargo. You threaten the stocks ; I say you are scurrilous, And you durst not talk thus, if I saw you at our ale- Jiouse, But as for your threats, you may do what you can, despise any poet that truckled to Dan. But keep a good tongue, or you'll find to your smart. From rhyming in cars, you may swing in a cart. You found out my rebus with very much modesty ; But thanks to the lady ; I'm sure she's too good to ye: Till she lent you her help, you were in a fine twitter; You hit it, you say ; — you're a delicate hitter. How could you forget so ungratefully a lass. And if you be my Phoebus, pray who was your Pallas? As for your new rebus, or riddle, or crux, I will either explain, or rej)ay it by trucks : Tho' your lords, and your dogs, and }'our catches, merhinks, Are harder than ever were put by the Sphinx. And thus I am fully revcng'd for your late tricks, ^Vhich is all at present from the Dean of St. Patrick's. From my closet, Sept. 1':, 17 IS, just 1-2 at noon. * Ut tu perperani argumentaris. To 150 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. To the Dean of St. Patrick's. YOUR Billingsgate Muse methinks does begin With much greater noise than a conjugal din. A pox of her bawling, her temporn et mores! What are times now to me ? a n't I one of the Tories? You tell me my verses disturb you at prayers ; Oh, oh, Mr. Dean, are you there with your bears ? " You pray, I suppose, like a Heathen, to Phoebus, To give his assistance to make out my rebus: Which I don't think so fair ; leave it oft" for the fu- ture ; When the combat is equal, this God should be neuter. I'm now at the tavern, where I drink all I can, To write with more spirit; I'll drink no moreHelicon; For PTelicon is water, and water is weak ; Tis wine on the gross lee, that makes your Muse speak . This I know by her spirit and life; but I think She's much in the wrong to scold in her drink. Her damn'd pointed tongue pierc'd almost to my heart ; Tell me of a cart, — tell me of a . I'd have you to tell her on both sides her ears, If she comes to my house, that I'll kick her down stairs : Then home she shall limping go, squalling out, O my knee ! You shall soon have a crutch to buy for your Mel- pomene. You may come as her bully, to bluster and swagger ; But my ink is my poison, my pen is my dagger. Stand POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. 151 Stand off, I desire, ami mark what I say to you, If you come I will make your Apollo shine thro' yon. Don't think, Sir, I fear a Dean, as I would fear a dun ; Which is all at present from yours, Thomas Sheridan. The Dean to Thomas Sheridan.* SIR, WHEN I saw you to-day, as I went with Lord Anglesey, Lord, said I, who's that parson, how awkwardly dan- gles he ? When whip you trot up, without minding your betters, To the very coach-side, and threaten your letters. Is the poison [and dagger] you boast in your jaws, trow ? Are you still in your cart with conviiia ex plaustro F But to scold is your trade, which I soon should be foil'd in. For scolding is just quasi diceres — school-din : And I think I may say, you could many good shil- lings get, Were you drest like a bawd, and sold oysters at Bil- lingsgate : But coach it or cart it, I'd have you know, sirrah, I'll write, tho' I'm forc'd to write in a wheelbarrow: Nay, hector and swngger, you'll still find me stanch. And you and your cart shall give me carte blanche. * IbiO, p. 3J0. Since L!.> |-52 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHEraDAN. Since you write in a cart, keep it tecta et sarta, Tis all you have for it ; 'tis your best Magna Carta; And I love you so well, as I told you long ago. That I'll ne'er give my vote for Deleiida Cart-ago. Now you w'rite from your cellar, I find out your art ;- You rhyme as folks fence, in tierce and in cart : Your ink is your poison *, your pen is what not ; Your ink is your drink -}-, your pen is your pot. To my goddess Melpomene, pride of her sex, I gave, as you beg, your most humble respects : The rest of your compliment I dare not tell her. For she never descends so low as the cellar ; But before you can put yourself under her banners. She declares from her throne, you must learn better manners. If once in your cellar my Phoebus should shine, I tell you Vd not give a fig for your v^ine ; So I'll leave him behind, for I certainly know it. What he ripens above ground, he sowers below it. But ^^ by should we fight thu?, my partner so dear. With three hundred and sixty-five poems a year? Let's quarrel no longer, since Dan and George Roch« fort Will laugh in their sleeves ; I can tell you they watch for't. Then George will rejoice, and Dan will sing high-day : Hoc Ithacus velit, et magni mercentur Atrid^e. JoN. Swift. Written, signed and sealed, five minutes and eleven seconds after the receipt of yours, allowing seven seconds for sealing and su- perscribing, from my bedside, just eleven minutes after eleven, Sept. 1j, l7iS. * Viz. ut tu praedicas. -f Viz. ut ego assero verius. Erratum POEMS BT SWIFT AN^D SHERIDAJf. 153 EiTatum in your last, 1. antepenult, pro " fear a Dun,'' lege *' fear a Dan ;" ita omnes MSS. quos ego legi, et ita m:igis cona:ruum tarn sensui quain verituti. In page 351, we find '' Sir, Dclany reports^ and he has a shreivd tongue,'' &c. This poem [which has been printed in Vol. XVI.] p. JS7, is dated Sept. 20, 17 IS. To the Dean of St. Patrick's*^. SINCE your poetick prancer is turn'd into Cancer, ril tell you at once, Sir, I'm now not your man, Sir ; For pray, Sir, what pleasure in fighting is found With a coward, who studies to traverse his ground ? When I drew forth my pen, with your pen you ran back ; But I found out the way to your den by its track : From thence the black monster I drew, o' my con- science, And so brought to light what before was stark non- sense. When I with my right hand did stoutly pursue. You turn'd to your left, and you writ like a Jew ; Which, good Mister Dean, I can't think so fair. Therefore turn about to the right, as you were; Then if with true courage your ground you maintain, INIy fame is immortal, when Jonathan 's slain: Wiio 's greater by far than great Alexander, As much as a teal surpasses a gander ; * Whimsical Medley, p. 3^',^. As 154 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN-. As much as a game-cock 's excell'd by a sparrow ; As much as a coach is below a wheelbarrow : As much and much more as the most handsome man Of all the whole world is exceeded by Dan. T. Sheridan. This was written with that hand which in others is commonly called the left-hand. OFT have I been by poets told, That, poor Jonathan, thou grow'st old. Alas, thy numbers falling all, Poor Jonathan, how they do fall ! Thy rhymes, which whilom made thy pride swell^. Now jingle like a rusty bridle: Thy verse, which ran both smooth and sweet. Now limp upon their gouty feet ; Thy thoughts, which were the true sublime. Are humbled by the tyrant. Time : Alas I what cannot Time subdue ? Time has reduc'd my wine and you ; Emptied my casks, and clipp'd your wings, Disabled both in our main springs ; So that of late we two are grown The jest and scorn of all the town. But yet, if my advice be ta'en, We two may be as great again : ril send you wings, and send me wine ; Then you will fly, and I shall shine. This was written with my right-hand, at the same time with the other. How does Melpy like this ? I think I have vcxt her : Little did she know, I was ambidexter. T. Sheridan. To POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHSRIDAN. 155 To Mr. Thomas Sheridan. Reverend and learned Sir, I am teacher of English, for want of a better, to a poor charity-school, in the lower end of St. Thorn is's- strcet ; but in my time I have been a Virgilian. tho' I am now forced to teach English, which I under- stood less than my own native language, or even than Latin itself; therefore I made bold to send you the inclosed, the fruit of my Muse, in hopes it may qua- lify me for the honour of being one of your most inferior Ushers : if you will vouchsafe to send me an answer, direct to me next door but one to the Har- row, on the left-hand i)i Crocker's-lane. 1 am your's. Reverend Sir, to command, Pat. Reyly. Scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim. — Horat. Deliciae Sheridan Musnrum, dulcis amice, he* Ends with, noctemque profundam. Sic cecini. AD tc, doctissime Delany, Pulsus a tbribus Decani, Confugiens edo querelam. Pauper petens clientelam. Petebam Swift doctum patronum, Sed ille dedit nullum don urn, Neque cibum neque bonum. Qui3eris quam male sit, stomacho num ? * rrinted in vol. xvi. p. 180. Iratus 156 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAX. Iratus valde, valde latrat, Crumenicidam ferme patrat : Qiiin ergo releves Eegrotum, Dato cibum, dato potum. Ita in utruinvis oculum, Dormiam bibens vestrum poculuin. Qiiaeso, Reverende Vir, digneris banc epictolam inclusam cum versiculis perlegere, quam cum fastidio abjecit et respaebat Decanus ille (inquam) lepidissi- mus et Musarum et Apollinis comes. Reverende Vir, De vestra benignitate et dementia in frigore et fame exanimatos, nisi persuasum esset nobis, banc epistolam reverentiae vestrae non scripsissem ; quam profecto, quoniam eo es ingenio, in optimam accipere partem null us dubito. Saevit Boreas, mugiunt pro- cellae, dentibus invitis maxillae bellum gerunt. Nee minus intestino deprasliantibus tumultu visceribus, classicum sonat venter. Ea nostra est conditio, hacc nostra querela. Proh Deum atque bominum fidem ! quare illi, cui ne libella nummiest, dentes, stomacbum, viscera concessit natura ? mehercule nostr^ ludibrium debens corpori, frusti-a laboravit a patre voluntario exilio, qui macrum ligone macriorcm reddit agcllum. Hue usque evasi ad te, quasi ad asylum, confugiens, quern nisi bene nossem succurrere potuisse, mebercule neque fores vestras pultassem,neque limina tetigissen]. Quam longum iter iamelicus pcregi ! nudus, egenus, esuriens, perborrescens, despcctus, mendicans ; sunt lacrymae rerum et mentem carnaria tangunt. In via nullum fuit solatium pranlerqiiam quod Horatium, ubi macros in igne turdos versat, pei-legi. Catii dapes, ^laccenatis convivium, ita me })ictura pascens inani, sappius POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. 157 scepius volvebam. Q,Liid non mortalium pectora cogit Masariim sacra fames? Hscc omnia, quaa nostra fuit nccessitas, curavi ut sclres ; nunc re experiar quid Jabis, quid negabis. Vale. Vivitur parvo male, sed canebat Flaccus ut parvo bene ; quod negamus : Pinguis et laute satnratus ille Ridet inanes. Pace sic dicam liceat poeta3 Nobilis l£Eti salibus faceti Usque jocundi, lepidejocantis Non sine cura. Quis potest versus, (meditans mercndam Prandium, coenam) numerare ? quis non Quot panes pistor locat in fenestra Dicere mallet ? Ecce jejunus tibi venit unus ; Latrat ingenti stomachus furore; Ouccso digneris renovare fauces, Docte Patrone. Vestiant lanas tenues libellos, Vestiant panni dominum trementem, ylidibus. vestris trepidante penna Musa propinquat. Nuda ne fiat, renovare vestes Urget, et nunquam tibi sic molestam Esse promittit, nisi sit coacta Frigore iniquo. Si modo possem ? Vetat heu pudor me Plura, sed pra^stat rogitare plura, An dabis binos digitos crumenae im- ponerc vestne. 7 To 158 POEMS BY SWIPT AND SHERIDANT. To the Dean of St. Patrick's.* DEAR SIR, Since you in humble wise Have made a recantation -j^'. From your low bended knees arise; I hate such poor prostration. 'Tis bravery that moves the brave. As one nail drives another ; If you from me would mercy have. Pray, Sir, be such another. You that so long maintain'd the field With true poetic vigour ; Now you lay down your pen and yield. You make a wretched figure :{:. Submit, but do't with sword in hand. And write a panegyrick Upon the man you cannot stand ; I'll have it done in lyrick : That all the boys I teach may sing The atchievements of their Chiron § ; What conquests my stern looks can bring. Without the help of iron. A small goose-quill, yclep'd a pen. From magazine of standish, Drawn forth, 's more dreadful to the Dean., Than any sword we brandish. My ink 's my flash, my pen 's my bolt; Whene'er I please to thunder, I'll make you tremble like a colt. And thus I'll keep you under. Thomas Sheridax. * Whimsical Medley, p. 359. f See vol. xvi. p. 4-18. X A leg awrr. § A fair open for you. T(» POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. 1 SQ To the Dean of St. Patrick's.* DEAR DEAN, I'rn in a sad condition, I cannot see to read or write ; Pity the darkness of thy Priscian, Wiiose days are all transform'd to night. My head, tho' light, 's a dungeon grown. The windows of my soul are clos'd ; Therefore to sleep 1 lay nie down, My verse and I are both compos'd. Sleep, did I say ? that cannot be ; For who can sleep, that wants his eyes ? My bed is useless then to nie, Therefore I lay me down, to rise. Unnumber'd thoughts pass to and fro Upon the surface of my brain ; In various maze they come and go. And come and go again. So have you seen in sheet burnt black, The firy sparks at random run ; Now here, now there, some turning back, Some ending where they just begun. Thomas Sheridan. * Whimsical Medley, p. 359. To l60 POEMS BY SWIPT AND SHERIDAN. To Thomas Sheridan*. DEAR SHERRY, Vm sorry for your bloodsheded sore eye, And the more I consider your case, still the more I Regret it, for see how the pain on't has wore ye. Besides ; the good Whigs, who strangely adore ye. In pity cry out, " he's a poor blinded Tory." But listen to me, and I'll soon lay before ye A sovereign cure well attested in Gory. First wash it with ros, that makes dative rori, Then send for three leeches, and let them all gore ye; Then take a cordial di-am to restore ye, Then take Lady Judith, and walk a fine boree. Then take a glass of good claret ex more. Then stay as long as you can, ab uxore ; And then if friend Dick -f Vvill but ope your back- door, he Will quickly dispell the black clouds that hang o'er ye. And make you so bright, that you'll sing tory rory. And make a new ballad worth ten of John Dory : (Tho' I work your cure, yet he'll get the glory.) I'm now in the back 5chool-house,.high up one story^ Quite weary with teaching, and ready to 7Jioii, My candle's just out too, no longer I'll pore ye, But away to Clem Barry 's,---thei'e's an end of my story. ^- Whimsical Medky, p. 36C. -}■ Dr. IViciiurd Helsbr-.ra. See p, lC)3. FROM !»OEMS BY SVriPT AND SHERIDAH. l6l FROM THE SAME MISCELLANY *. I LIKE your coUyriam, Take my eyes, Sir, and clear ye 'um, 'Twill gain you a great reputation ; By this you may rise. Like the Doctor so wise -}-, , Who open d the eyes of the Nation. And these, I must tell ye. Are bigger than its belly ; — You know, there's in Livy a story Of the hands and the feet Denying of meat, — Don't I write in the dark like a Tory ? your ^ater so far goes, 'T would serve for an Argus, Were all his whole hundred sore ; So many we read He had in his head. Or Ovid's a son of a whore. For your recipe. Sir, May my lids never stir, If ever I think once to fee you ; For I'd have you to know. When abroad I can go. That it's honour enough, if I see you. P. 563. Probably Dr. Davenant. M FROM l62 I'OEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN--; FROM THE SAME MISCELLANY *. MY pedagogue dear, I read with surprise Your long sorry rhymes, which you made on my eyes ; As the Dean of St. Patrick's says, earth, seas, and skies 1 I cannot lie down, but immediately rise, To answer your stuff' ami the Doctor's likewise. Like a horse with a gall, I'm pester'd with flies, But his head and his tail new succour supplies, To beat off the vermin from back, rump, and thighs. The wing of a goose before me now lies. Which is both shield and sword for such weak ene- mies. Whoever opposes me, certainly dies, Tho' he were as valiant as Conde or Guise. The women disturb me, a crying of pies, With voice twice as loud as a horse when he neighs. By this. Sir, you find, should we rhyme for a prize, That I'd gain cloth of gold, when you'd scarce merit frize. To Thomas Sheridan -j-. DEAR Tom, I'm surpris'd that your verse did not jingle; But your rhyme was not double, 'cause your sight was but single. For as Helsham observes, there's nothing can chime, Ur fit more exact, than one eye and one rhyme. ♦ p. ;]6'. + Ibid, p. 364. If POKMS BY SWJPT AND SHElllDAN. 103 tf you bad not took physick, I'd pay off your bacon, But now I'll write sbort, for fear you're sbort-taken. Besides, Dick * forbid me, and call'd me a fool ; For he says, short as 'tis, it will give you a stool. In libris bellis, tu parum parcis ocellis ; Dum nimium scribis, vel taljw caecior ibis, Aut ad vina rcdis, nam sic tua lumina Isedis : Sed tibi cocnanti sunt collyria tanti ? Nunquid eges visu, dum comples omnia risu ? IIcu Sheridan cnecus, heu eris nunc cercopithecus. Nunc bene nasutus mittet tibi carmina tutus: Nunc ope Burgundi, mains Helsham ridet abunde. Nee Phoebi lili versum quis -(- mittere Kyly. Quid tibi cum libris? relavet tua lumina Tybris J Mixtus Sftturno § ; penso sed parce diurno Observes hoc tu, nee scriptis utere noctu. Nonnulli minguntct palpebras sibi tingunt. Quidam purgantcs, libros in stercore nantes lyingunt ; sic vinces videndo, mi bone, lynces. Culum ocuknn tergis, dum scripta hoc flumine mergis ; Tunc oculi et nates, ni fallor, agent tibi grates. Vim fuge Decani, ncc sit tibi cura Delani: lieu tibi si srribaut, aut si tibi fercula libant. Pone loco mortis, roipis fcra pocula fortis. Jlccc tibi paura dcdi, sed consule Betty my Lady, JIuic te des solop, nee egebis pharmacopolas. H;ec somnians cecini, Oct. 23, 1718. Jox. Swift. • Dr. llichnrd Hclshnm. + Pro potis. Horat. * Pro qucivis fluvio. Virg ^ Sscrharo Saturiii. M 1 iRoy- l6'i POfiMS BY SWrFT AND SHErvIDAN* FROM THE SAME MISCELLANY.* PERLEGI versus versos, Jonathan bone, tersos p Perlepidos quidem ; scribendo semper es idem. Laudibus extolfo te, ta mihi nragnus Apollo ; Tu frater Phoebus, oculis coUyria praBbes, Ne nnnus insansD repras quoque damna Dianae^ Qux me percussit radiis (nee dixeris ussit). Frigore coUecto ; medicus moderamine tecto Lodicum binum premit, et negatis mihi vinum. O terra et coelum ! qua-m reddit pectus anhelum, Os mihi jam siccum, liceat mihi bibere die cum ^ Ex vestro grato poculo, tarn soepe pKolato, Vina crepant r sales ostendet quis naihi tales ? Lumina, vos sperno, dum euppae gaudia cerno :- Perdere etenim pellem nostram, quoque crura ma^ vellem. Amphora, quam dukes risus quels pectora mulces, Pangitur a Flacco, cum pectus turget laccho : Clarius evohe ingeminans geminatur et ohe ; Nempe joeosa propago, hesit sic voeis imago.- To the Kcv. Mr. Dan. Jackson, to he humbly presented by IVIr. Sheridan in person^ with respect, care, and speed, to be delivered by and with Mr. Slieridan -Jr. DEAR DAN, Here I return ray trust, nor ask, &g. Ends ct\— we'll send him to Delany. J * p. 365. t Ibidi p. 365. t PiinteU in vol. xvi. p. 2S0, ^ P.S POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHEIVIDAH. l65 P. S. Lean Tom, when I saw him last week on his horse awry, &c. Ends at, — glad then of it.* After which follows (not printed), -j- A HIGHLANDER once fought a Frenchman at Margate, The weapons a ra{)ier, a backsword, and target ; Brisk Monsieur advancd as fast as he could, But all his fine pushes were caught in the wood ; While Sawny with backsword did slash him and nick him, While t'other, enraged that he could not once prick him, Cry'd, " Sirrah, you rascal, you son of a whore, Me'll fight you, begar, if you'll come from your door!" Our case is the same ; if you'll fight like a man, Don't fly from my weapon, and sculk behind Dan ; For he's not to be pierc'd ; his leathcr^s so tough. The devil himself can't ^et through his buff. Besides, I <;annot but say that it is .hard. Not only to make him vour shield, but your vizard; And, like a tragedian., you rant and you roar. Thro' the horrible grin of your larva s wide bore. Nay further, which makes me complain much, and ffAimp it. You make bis long nose your loud speaking-trumpet ; With the din of which tube my head you so bother. That I scarce can distinguish my riglU ear from i'other. • Printed in vol. xvi. p. 2S3, ^ Ayhimsical Medley, p. 307, You l66 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. You made me in your last a goose ; I lay my life on't you are wrong, To raise me by such foul abuse ; My quill you'll find's a woman's tongue; And slit, just like a bird, will chatter, And like a bird do something more ; When I let fly, 'twill so bespatter, I'll change you to a black-a-moor. I'll write while I have half an eye in my head ; I'll write while I live, and I'll write when you're dead. Tho' you call me a goose, you pitiful slave, I'll feed on the grass that grows on your grave. TOM, for a goose you keep but base quills. They're fit for nothing else but pasquills. I've often heard it from the wise. That inflammations in the eyes Will quickly fall upon the tongue, And thence, as fam'd John Bunyan sung. From out the pen will presently On paper dribble daintily. Suppose I call'd you goose, it is hard One word should stick thus in your gizzard. You're my goose, and no other man's ; And you know, all my geese are swans : Only one scurvy thing I find, Swans sing when dying, geese when blind. But now I smoke where lies the slander, — I call'd you goose, instead of gander ; For that, dear Tom, ne'er fret and vex, I'm Bure you cackle like the se.\. I know POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. iG? I know the gander always goes - With a quill stuck across his nose ; So your eternal pen is still Or in your claw, or in your bill. But whether you can tread or hatch, I've something else to do than watch. As for you're writing I am dead, I leave it for the second head. Deanry House, Oct. 27, 1718. I CAN'T but wonder, Mr. Dean, To see you live, so often slain. My arrows fly and fly in vain, But still I try and try again. . I'm now. Sir, in a writing vein ; Don't think, like you, I squeeze and strain. Perhaps you'll ask me what I mean ; I will not tell, because it's plain. Your Muse, I am told, is in the wane ; If so, from pen and ink refrain. Indeed, believe me, I'm in pain For her and you ; your life's a scene Of verse, and rhymes, and hurricane. Enough to crack the strongest brain. Now to conclude, I do remain. Your honest friend, Tom Sheridan. POOR l68 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. POOR Tom, wilt thou never accept a defiance, Tho' I dare you to more than quadruple alliance. You're so retrograde, sure you were born under Cancer ; Must I make myself hoarse with demanding an an- swer? If this be your practice, mean scrub, I assure ye, And swear by each Fate, and your new friends, each Fury, ril drive you to Cavan, irom Cavan to Dundalk ; I'll tear all your rules, and demolish your pun-talk : Nay, further, the moment you're free from your scalding, I'll chew you to bullets, and pufFyou at Baldwin. A Prologue to a Play, performed at Mr. Sheri- dan's School, spoke by one of the Scholars. * AS in a silent night a lonely swain. Tending his flocks on the Pharsalian plain. To heaven around directs his wandering eyes. And every look finds out a new surprise ; So great's our wonder, ladies, when we view Our lower sphere made more serene by you. O could such light in my dark bosom shine. What life, what vigour, should adorn each line ! Beauty and Virtue should be all my theme. And Venus brighten my poetic flame. The advent'rous painter's fate and mine are one. Who fain would draw the bright meridian sun ; • Ibid, p. 370. Majestic POEMS ST SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. l6g Mijjestic light his feeble art defies. And for presuming, robs him of his eyes. Then blame your power, that my inferior lay« Sink far below your too exalted praise : D.on't think wc flatter, your applause to gain j No, we're sincere, — to flatter you were vain. You spurn at fine encomiums misapply'd. And all perfections but your beauties hide. Then as you're fair, we hope you will be kind. Nor frown on those you see so well inelin'd To please you most. Grant us your smiles, aad thea Those sweet rewards will majke us act like raea. THE EPILOGUE.* NOW all is done, ye learn'd spectators, tell. Have we not play'd our parts extremely well ? We think we did, but if you do complain. We're all content to act the play again : 'Tis but three hours or thereabouts, at most. And time well spent in school cannot be lost. But what makes you frown, you gentlemen above ? We guess'd long since you all desired to move : But that's in vain, for we'll not let a man stir, Who does not take up Plautus first, and construcf-. Him we'll dismiss, that understands the play ; He who does not, i'faith he's like to stay. Tho' this new method may provoke your laughter, To act plays first, and understand them after ; * P. 371. + The airthor appears to have intended that the vulgiar pronun- ciation, constcr, sliowld be hie adojHed. We 170 POEMS BY SWIFT AND SHERIDAN. We do not care, for we will have our humour, Aiid will try you, and you, and you, Sir, and one or two more. Why don't you stir ? there's not a man will hudge ; ■ How much they've read, I'll leave you all to judge. THE SONG."^ MY time, O ye Grattans, was happily spent, When Bacchus went with me, wherever I went ; For then I did nothing but sing, laugh, and jest; Was ever a toper so merrily blest ? But now I so cros?, and so peevish am grown, Because I must go to my wife back to town ; To the fondling and toying of '^ honey" and " dear," And the conjugal comforts of horrid small beer. My daughter I ever was pleased to see Come fawning and begging to ride on my knee ; My wife too was pleas'd, and to tlie child said, Come, hold in your belly, and hold up your head : But now out of humour, I with a sour look. Cry, hussy, and give her a souse with my book ; And I'll give her another ; for why should she play, Since my Bacchus, and glasses, and friends are away. Wine, what of thy delicate hue is become, That tinged our glisses with blue, like a plumb ? Those bottles, those bumpers, why do they not smile. While we sit carousing and drinking the while ? Ah, bumpers, I see that our wine is all done. Our mirth falls of course, when our Bacchus is gone. Then since it is so, bring me here a supply ; Begone, froward wife, for I'll drink till I die. • Whimsical Medley, p. 333, TO LETTER TO DR. JENNY. 171 TO THE REV. DR. HENRY JENNY, AT HIS HOUSE IN ARMAGH *. SIR, DUBLIN, JUNE 8, J 732. XT is true, that some weeks ago a manuscript paper of verses was handed about this town, and after- wards printed. The subject was, my great ingrati- tude and breach of hospitality in publishing a copy of verses, -j- called Hamilton's Bawn. The writer hath likewise taken severe notice of some other verses published many years ago by the indiscretion of a friend, to whom they were sent in a letter. It was called a Journal, and writ at Mr. Roch fort's J ; and the consequences drawn from both by this late writer is, that the better lam used in any family, the more I abuse them ; with other reflections that must follow from such a principle. 1 was originally as unwilling to be libelled as the nicest man can be, but having been used to such treatment ever since I unhappily began to be known, I am now grown hardened ; and while the friends I have left will con- * Where Dr. Jenny, it ii> believed, was rector. He resided in the neighbourhood of Sir Artlmr Acheson, and is introduced into Swift's Poem on Hamilton's Bawn. See Swift's Works, 180S, vol. ■ XVII. p. 90. This perfectly characteristic Letter, which has been among the dcsidc/ata of all former editions, is now first printed by the favour of Lord Viscount Cremorne, in whose family it has been preser\ed. The letter had been many years ago noticed by Dr. Thomas Campbell, an Irish clergyman, in " his Philosophical Sur\'ey of the South of Ireland." N. t These verses were written in 1729. See them in vol. XVII. p. 85. — See also in vol. XVI. p. 444, tlie Dean's Poem in l7'-?8, " On cutting down the old Thorn at Market-hill." N. X At Gaulstown, in the county of Wcstmcath, in the year 1721 See vol. XVL pp. 251—2, I8«:. N. tiniip 3 72 LETTER TO PK. JENNY, tinue to use me with any kindness, I shall need but a small degree of philosophy to bear me up against those who are pleased to be ray enemies on the score of party zeal, and the hopes of turning that zeal to accourjt. One thing, I confess, would still touch me to the quick ; I mean, if any person of true genius would, employ his pen against me ; but if I am not very partial to myself, I cannot lemem- ber that among at least two thousand papers full of groundless reflections against me, hundreds of which I have seen, and heard of more, I ever saw any one production that the meanest \yriter could have cause to be proud of; for which I can assign a very natural reason ; that during the whole busy time of my life, the men of wit (in England) were all my particular friends, although many of them diftered from me. in opinions of public persons and pro- ceedings. As to Ireland, where I lived very little before the Queen's death, and ever since in perfect retirement, I remember to have published nothing but what is called the Drapier's Letters, and some few other trifles relating to the afl^airs of this mi- serable and ruined kingdom. What other things fell from me (chiefly in verse) were only amuse- naents in hours of sickness or leisure, or in private families, to divert ourselves and some neighbours, but were never intended for publick view ; which is plain from the subjects and tlie careless way of handling them : neither, indeed, can it answer the true ends of vanity or desire of praise, to let the world see such little sallies of fancy or humour, be- cause if they be ill or indifferently performed (which mu£t often be the case), the loss of reputation is certain ; and however well executed, after a week'^ yogue^ LETTER TO DR. JEKHV. 173 vogue, tliey are utterly forgot. I knotv not how I cortie to be led so far from the subject of your letter. I confess there were gome few persons who made random conjectures that you might possibly be concerned in the paper you! hint at, bat- they wero Such who knew very little of you or me ; for others^ who were better acquainted with us both, have al- ways cleared you, because they did not look uport that paper any way equal to your known good sense and candour, or talent of writing. And as to myself, I had further conviction, because I knew how well you were acquainted with the whole his- tory and occasion of writing those verses on the Barrack ; how well pleased the master and lady ©f the family were with it ; that you had read it more than once ; that it was no secret to any neigh- bour, nor any reserve but that against giving a eopy. You know well by what incidents that re- Serve was broken, by granting a copy to a great person, and from thence how it fell into other hands, and so came (as it is the constant case) to be published, and is now forgot. I confess my own conjectures about this late libel against me lay towards another gentleman, who, I am informed, hath since cleared himself, I mean Dr. Tisdall * ; but that suspicion was first taught me by others : and yet I know very well that for at least fifteen years past, he hath been often engaged in a kind o( flirting war of satitick burlesque verse with • To this gendeman Dr. Swift addressed a letter, April 20, 1704, on the subject of his addresses to Mrs. Johnson ; assuring him very candidly that he had himself n^-^ seen any other lady whose conversation he entirely valued ; and freely giving con.sent to her ai»rr)-ing Dr. Tisdall, See vol. X. pp. 33, 41, N, certain i7>< tETTEB TO DR. JENNY» certain wags both in town and country, who, it- seems, were provoked with his faculty of jibing, and used to answer him in his own way. Yet I have been assured that in these combats, he was gene- rally mistaken in his adversaries^ falling foul upon many persons who never dipt a pen either for or against liim ; and I think you, among others, had some marks of his favour. But, as to me, who, I solemnly profess, was always entirely innocent, during the whole time that his pen and tongue took this unhappy turn, as well as before and since, I could never be one month at peace for his wit ; whatever was writ to ridicule him, was laid at my door, and only by himself; with a further declara- tion, much to my honour, that he knew my style, would trouble himself to inquire no further ; and, using my surname, said, I was his man. Some ot his performances I have seen, and have heard of more, besides the great number he kept in petto ; so that five or six^ gentlemen have often and very lately assured me, that in one evening-sitting, he has produced a dozen of his libels wholly against jvie; desiring I might be told of it, and assuring lliose trentlemen that the whole dozen should be published, if I would not let him alone. This was a little hard upon me, who had never one single moment in my life the least inclination to enter the lists with him, at those or any other weapons what- soever, any more tlian I would venture to sit four hours disputing with him any point of controversy. I confess, this keenness of the Doctor in determin- ing, whenever he was attacked, to fix on me for his adversary, inclined me* to conceive that he might ha\'e probably writ this last paper, and other people had JLETTEll TO DR. JENNY. 175 liatl tlie same thought ; hut I hear he hath utterly tleuied it ; and I heUevc him ; for I am conlidcnt lie is an honest man, hut unhappily misled through the whole course of his life, hy mistaking his talent, which he hath against nature applied to wit and raillery, and rhyming: hesides which, his incurable absence of mind on all occasions, and in all compa- nies, hath led him into ten thousand errours, especi- ally of that kind, which are mortal to all agreeable or improving conversation, and which hath put him upon such a foot with every friend, that I heartily lament the situation he is in. I intreat your pardon for the length and insig- niiicancv of this letter, but my solitary way of life is apt to make me talkative upon paper. 1 desire you would believe, first, that I have so frequently been libelled, that my curiosity to know the authors is quite extinct, though that of some friends is not ; se- condly, that I am not hasty in judging of men's style, or matter, or malice. I can venture to say, that a thing is not written by such a person, because it is much below his good sense ; and to look among the herd of dunces is endless. As to yourself, I hope you will be my witness that I have always treated you with particular distinction ; and if we differ in opinions relating to publick proceedings, it is for very good reasons : you are an expectant from the \^orld and from power ; I have long done with both ; having been an original offender against all principles set up since the death of the Queen, I could not think it worth my while to quit my old ones *, and must liave * When he quitted the Jniig.py ; he is pleased with the world (as I was for- *rt€#ly), aftd the World with him ; his merit is allow- €dy jflfjd favoar will certainly follow ; which I heartily wish you ; only desiring, that m what appears to my eyes a very dirty road, yoa would pick out the clean- est stages you can ; and believe me to be. with much, esteem, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, J. S. Ta ( "^n ) TO THE REV. JOHN BRANDRETH, DEAN OF EMLY *. SIR, If you are not an excellent philosopher, I allow you personate one perfectly well ; and if you believe yourself, I heartily envy you ; for I never yet saw in Ireland a spot of earth two feet wide, that had not * This gentleman was also rector of Kilmore, in the diocese of Armagh. He was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he took his first degree in 1717, and that of Master of Arts in 1721. He was therefore probably born in 16S'«. He died in 1764, Mr, Brandreth had been tutor to Charles Earl of Mid- dlesex, eldest son of Lionel Duke of Dorset ; and very soon altex that nobleman was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, (June 1730,) he appears to have obtained from his Grace the preferments in the church, which he held till he died. See a letter from Arch- bishop Boulter to tlie Duke of Dorset, dated Dublin, February 20, 1730-31 : " On the Sth instant Mr. Brandreth brought me the honour of your Grace's of the ISth past. We have since dispatch- ed his instruments, agreeably to your Grace's diraations. I found he did not want a faculty to hold tiie two preferments j else I was ready to have granted one, as I shall be to give him my fa- vour and protection on all occasions. He seems to be a sensible gentleman, and veiy well behaved ; and I doubt not will give ge- neral satisfaction here." Letters of his Excellency Hugh Boulter, P.D. Lord Primate of Ireland, Svo. 177o. Lady Elizabeth Ger- maine, who, we find, had recommended Dean Brandreth to Swift, doubdess became acquainted with him in the finiiily of the Duke of Dorset, with whom she was very intimate. After the death of the Dean of Emly, this letter was found among his papers by the Rev. Mr. Field, his curate at Kilmore, whom he appointed his executor; and by his permission a copy of it was taken by a gentlenpau of that parish, in tlie hands of whose N widow ]78 LETTER TO THE in it something to displease. I think I once was in your county, Tipperary *, which is like the rest of the whole kingdom, — a bare face of nature, without houses or plantations : — filthy cabins, miserable, tat- tered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape ; — one insolent, ignorant, oppressive 'squire to be found in twenfy miles riding ; — a parish church to be found only in a suuinicr-day's journey, jn compari- son of which an English farmer's barn is a cathedral; -T-a bog of fifteen miles round ; — every meadow Ji slough, and every hill a mixture of rock, he^th, and marsh ; — and every male and female, from the far- mer inclusive to the day-labourer, infallibly a thief, and consequently a beggar, which in this island are terms convertible. The Shannon is rather a lake than a river, and has not the sixth part of the stream that runs under London Bridge. There is not an acre of land in Ireland turned to half its advantage ; yet it is better improved than the people : and all these evils are effects of English tyranny ; — so your sons and grandchildren will find to their sorrow. Cork indeed was a place of trade ; but for some years past is gone to decay ; and the wretched merchants, instead of being dealers, are dwindled, into pedlars and cheats. I desire you will not write such accounts to your friends in England. Did you ever see one cheerful countenance among our country vulgar? widow it has remained for near thirty years, It was obligingly communicated to us by the Reverend and learned Dr. Richardson, (formerly Fellow of Trinity College^ Dublin, and now beneficed in the North of Ireland) through the hands of Mr. Malone. * Emly, of which Mr. Brandreth was Dean, is in the diocese of Casbel, and in the county of Tipperary. N. unless REV. JOHN ERAiiDllBTH. 1/9 linless once a year at a fair or on a holiday, when some poor rogue happened to get drunk, and starved tlie whole week after. — You will give a very different ac- count of your winter campaign, when you can't walk five yards from your door without being mired to your knees, nor ride half a mile without being in slough to your saddle- skirts ; when your landlord must send twenty miles for yeast, before he can brew or bake ; and the neighbours for six miles round must club to kill a mutton. — Pray, take care of damps, aild when you leave your bedchamber, let a fire be made, to last till night ; and after all, if a stocking happens to fall off a chair, you may wring it next morning. — I nunc, et tecum versus meditare canoros. I have not said all this out of any malicious inten- tion, to put you out of conceit with the scene wher6 you are, but merely for your credit; because it is bet- ter to know you are miserable, than to betray an ill taste : I consult your honour, which is dearer than life ; therefore I demand that you shall not relish one bit of victuals, or drop of drink, or the company of any human creature, within thirty miles of Knocto- her, during your residence in those parts ; and then I shall begin to have a tolerable opinion of your un- derstanding. My lameness is very slowly recovering ; and if it be well when that the year is out, I shall gladly com- pound ; yet I make a shift to ride about ten miles a- day by virtue of certain implements called gamba- does, where my feet stand firm as on a floor ; and I generally dine alone, like a king or an hermit, and continue alone until I go to bed ; for even my wine will not purchase company, and I begin to think the lame are forsaken as much as the poor and the blind, -V 2 JNJr. 180 LETTfeR TO THE Mr. Jebb * never calls at the Deanry of late : perhaps he hath found out that I like him as a modest man, and of very good understanding. — This town is nei- ther large nor full enough to furnish events for enter* taining a country correspondent. Murder now and then is all we have to trust to. Our fruit is all de- stroyed with the long spring and eastern winds ; and I shall not have the tenth part of my last year's fruit. Miss Hoadley hath been nine days in the small-pox, which I never heard of till this minute ; but they say, she is past danger. She would have been a ter- rible loss to the Archbishop ■^. Dr. Felton, of Ox- ford, hath writ an octavo about Revelation J ; I know not his character. He sent over four copies to me, one of which was for Mr. Tickell §, two for the Bishops of Cork and Waterford ||, and one to * Dr, John Jebb, afterwards Dean of Cashell. He was the brother of Dr. Samuel Jebb, an eminent physician, N. + Hugh Boulter, Archbishop of Armagh. He died September 27, 1742. The lady here mentioned was perhaps a daughter or near relation of his successor in the primacy, Dr. John Hoadly, wh© in 1727 was constituted Bishop of Ferns. N. % " The Christian faith asserted against Deists, Arians, and Soci- nians, in eight sermons, preached at the Lady Moyer's Lectures." By Henry Felton, D.D. 8vo. 1732, (probably the author of the Essay on the Classicks.) N. § Thomas Tickell, Esq. the friend of Addison, and then Secre- tary to the Lords Justices of Ireland. N. II Dr. Peter Browne, famous for having written against drinking memories, was at that time Bishop of Cork. The Bishop of Wa- terford was Dr. Thomas Mills, who sat in that see from 1707 to 1742. He had been Prefessor of Greek in Oxford, and went to Ireland as Chaplain to Thomas Earl of Pembroke, by whom he was promoted. He published the Works of St. Cyrill, in foHo, in 1703 ; and tlie " Natural Immortality of the Soul asserted and proved from the Scriptures and first Fathers, in Answer to Mr. ©odweU," Svo. Oxon, 1707. N. myself. REV. JOHN BRANDRETH. 181 myself, by way of payment for sending the rest, I suppose, for he sent me no letter. I know him not. — Whenever you are in this town, I hope you will mend your usage of me, by coming often to a philo- sophical dinner at the Deanry : this I pretend to ex- pect for the sake of our common princess. Lady E. Germaine, to whom I've [q. I owe] the happiness of your acquaintance; and on her account I expect your justice to believe me to be, with truest esteem^ Your most obedient, humble servant, J. S, [Dublin], 30th June, 17S2. Extracts EXTRACTS FROM DEAN SWIFTS REMARKS OX BISHOP BURNETs HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES, EXTRACTS FROM STVIFTS REMARKS ON BURNET'S HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES*; FOLIO EDITION, 17'24. From the Original, in the Library of the lata "Marhvis or Lansdown. Preface, p. 3. Bur net, '' indeed the peevish- ness, the ill-nature, and the ambition of many Cler- gymen, has sharpened my spirits, perhaps, too much against them — so I warn my readers to take all that I say on those heads with some grains of al- lowance." — Swift. '' I will take his warning" V, 11. Burnet. " Colonel Titus assured me that he had it from king Charles the First's own mouth, that he was well assured his brother, prince Henry, was poisoned by the earl of Somerset's means." — Swift. '•^ Titus was the greatest rogue in England." P. 18. Burnet. " Gowrj^'s conspiracy against king James was confirmed to me by my father." — Swift. " And yet Melville makes nothing of it." V. 20. Burnet. " Charles I. liad such an un- gracious way of bestowing favours, that the manner of bestowing was almost as mortifying as the favour was obliging." — Swift. " Not worth knowing." "^ See before, in vol. V pj*. 99, 101. lB6 swift's remarks on burnet's p. 23, Burnet. "Tiiis person [Mr. Stewart] , who was only a private g^entleman, became so consider- able, that he was raised by several degrees to be made earl of Traquair^ and lord treasurer of Scot- land ; and was in great favom' : but suffered after- wards such a reverse of fortune, that I saw him so low that he wanted bread ; and it was generally be- lieved that he died of hunger." — Sivift. " A strange death ! Perhaps it was want of meat !" P. 9,6. Burnet, " How careful lord Balmeri- noch's father was to preserve the petition and the papers relating to th^t trial, of which, says he, I never saw any copy beside, and which I have now by me, and which indeed is a v^ry noble piece, full of curious matter." — Swiff. " Puppy I" P. 28. Burnet. " The earl of Argyle was a more solemn sort of man, grave and sober, and free of all scandalous vices." — Swift. " As a man is free of a corporation, he means." P. 29. Burnet. " The lord Wharton and the lord Howard of Escrick undertook to deliver some of these ; which they did, and were clapt up upon it." — Swift. " What dignity of expression !" P. 30. Burnet. " King Charles I. was now in great straits — his treasure was exhausted — his subjects iiighly irritated — his ministry frightened, being ex- posed to the anger and justice of parliament. He loved high and rough methods ; but had neither the skill to conduct them, nor the height of genius to ma- jiage them.'' — Swft. " Not one good quality named." P. 31. Burnet. " The queen of Charles I. was a woman of great vivacity in convei-sation, and loved all her life long to be in intrigues nf all sorts." — Swiff. '' Not of love, I hope." P. 34. HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. I87 P. 34. Burnet. " Dickison, Blair, Rutherford, Baily, Cant, and other popular preachers in Scot- land, affected great sublimities in devotion. They poured themselves out in their prayers with a loud voice, and often with many tears. They had but an ordinary proportion of learning among them ; somewhat of Hebrew, and very little Greek. Books of controversy with the Papists, but above all with the Arminians, was the height of their study."' — Siv'tft. " Great nonsense ! Rutherford was half fool, half mad." P. 40. Burnet, speaking of the bad effects of the marquis of Montrose's expedition and defeat, says, " It alienated the Scots much from the king ; it ex- alted all that were enemies to peace; and there seemed to be some colour for all those aspersions that they had cast on the king, as if he had been in a correspondence with the Irish rebels, when the worst tribe had been thus employed by him." — Siv'fft. " Lord Clarendon differs from all this." P. 41. Burnet. " The earl of Essex told me, that he had taken all the pains he could to inquire into tlie orio-in of the Irish Massacre ; but could never see any reason to believe that the king had any ac- cession to W'Stcift. " And who but a least ever believed it ?" P. 42. Burnet. Arguing with the Scots con- cerning the propriety of the king's death, he ob- serves, that Drummond said, " That Cromwell had plainly the better of them at their own weapons." — Swift. " And Burnet thought as Cromwell did." P. 4G. Burnet. " Fairfax was much distracted in his mind, and changed ]>urposes often every dav."— 5m'//>. '' Fairfax had hardly common sense." 02 P. 49. l98 swirr s remarks on burnet's P. 40' Bf/rnet. " I will not enter further Into the military part ; for I renieniber an advice of marshal Schomberg, never to meddle in the rela- tion of military matters. His observation was, * Some affected to relate those affairs in all the terms of ^^ar, in which they committed great er- rors, that exposed them to the scorn of all com- manders, who must despise relations that pretend to exactness, when there were blunders in every part of them'." — Siiift. " Very foolish advice — for soldiers cannot write." P. 50. Burnet. " Laud's defence of himself, when in the Tower, is a very mean performance. In most particulars, he excuses himself by this — That he was but one of many, who either in council, . star-chamber, or high commission, voted illegal things. Now, though this was true, yet a chief minister, and one in high favour, determines the rest so nmch, that they are little better than ma- chines acted by him. — On other occasions, he says, ' the thing was proved but by one witness.' Now, how strong soever this defence may be in law, it is of no force in appeal to the world ; for, if a thing is true, it is no matter how full or defective the proof is." — Swiff. " All this is full of malice and ill judgment." P. 50. Burnet, speaking of the Basilicon, '^'^ sup- posed to be written by Charles the First." — SiviJ't. -' I think it is a poor treatise, and that the king did not write it." P. 51. Burnet. " Upon the king's death, the Scots proclaimed his son king, and sent over sir George Wincan, that married my great aunt, to tn at w itii liim while he was in the Isle of Jersey," — Swiff. HISTORY OF Ills OWN TIMI-S. iS^ —-Sivlf't. " Was tli:it the rcnson why he was sent ?" P. 53. Bur/ie/. " Kinix C'harles the Second, when in Scotland, wroiF^ht himselF into as grave a de- portment Tis he could. He heard many prayers and sermons, some oi' great length. I remember, in one fast-day, there were six sermons preaciied, without intermission. I was there myself, and not a little weary of so tedious a service." — Sivtf't. " Burnet was not then eight years old." P. 61, Burnet, speaking of the period of usur- pation in Scotland — " Cromwell built three cita- dels, Leitii, Ayr, and Inverness, beside many little forts. There was good justice done, and vice was suppressed and punished ; so that we always reckon those eight years of usurpation a time of great peace? and prosperity." — Sicift. " No doubt, you do." P. 6\3. Burnet, speaking of the Scotch preach- ers in the time of the civil wars, says, " The crowds were far beyond the capacity of their churches, or the reach of their voices." — Sivif'f, •' And the })rt!aching beyond the capacity of the crowd— I believe the church had as much capacity as the minister." P. (74. Burnet. " The resolutions sent up by one Sharp, who had been long in England, and was an active and an eager man." — Sicift. " Afterwardr. a Bishop, and murdered." P. 6'6'. Burnet. " Thus Cromwell had all the king's party in a net : he let them dance in at plea- sure, and u})on occasions c/apt them up for a short time. — 6'wiJ't. " A pox of his claps'' P. 87. Burnet, speaking of the Restoration-— ^ Of all iliis, Monk had both the praise and the reward ; 190 SWIFTS REMARKS ON BURNET S reward ; for I have been told a veiy small share of it belonged to him." — Swift. " Malice." P. 126. Burnet speaking of the execution of the marquis of Argyle ; — Stvift. " He was the greatest villain of his age." P. 127. Burnet. " The proceeding against War- riston was soon dispatched." — Swift. '' Warriston Was an abominable dog." P. 134. Burnet, of bishop Leightouns character, " The grace and gravity of his pronunciation was such, that few heard him without a very sensible emotion — his style, however, was rather too tine." — Swift. " A fault that Burnet is not guilty of." P. 140. Burnet. " Leightoun did not stand much uipon it. He did not think orders given without bishops were null and void. He thought the forms of government were not settled by such positive laws as were unalterable, but only by apostolical practi- ces, which, as he thought, authorized Episcopacy, as the best form : yet he did not think it necessary to the being of a church, but he thought that every church might make such rules of ordinations as they pleased." — Swift. " Here's a specimen of style ! — think ! — thought ! — thought ! — think ! thought r P. 154. Burnet, speaking of a proclamation for shutting up 200 churches in one day ! " Sharpe said to myself, he knew nothing of it ; yet he was glad it was done without his having any share in it, for by it he was furnished with somewhat in which he was no way concerned, upon which he might cast all the blame of all that followed ; yet this was suitable enough to a maxim that he and all that sort of people set up — that the execution of tlie laws was that insToiiY or nis own times. l()l that by ^^hich cill vhole Popish party feared more than an union of those of the church of England with the Presbyterians. The Pa])iots had but two maxims, from which they never daparted. The one Avas to divide us, and the other, to keep themselves united." ^Sicift. "Rogue!!!" P. 202. Burnet, " The queen-mother had brought over 194 swift's remarks OS' tiUR^ET S over from France one Mrs. Stewart, a great beauti/.'* — Swiff. " A pretty phrase this !" P. 203. Burnet. " One of the first things that was ^one this session of parhament (1663) was the execution of my unfortunate uncle Warrkton. He was so disordered both in body and mind, that it was a reproach to government to proceed against him. He was brought before the parhament to hear what he had to say why his execution should not be awarded. He spoke long, but in a disor- dered and broken strain, which his enemies fancied was put on to create pity. He was sentenced to die. His deportment was unequal, as might be expected from a man in his condition, yet when the day of execution came he was veiy serene. — He was cheer- ful, and seemed fully satisfied with his death. He read a speech twice over on the scaffold, that, to my knowledge, he composed himself, in which he jus- tified all the proceedings in the Covenant, and as- serted his own sincerity ; but condemned his joining with Cromwell and the sectaries, though even in that his intentions had been sincere for the good of his country and the security of religion. Lord Lauderdale had lived in great friendship with him ; but he saw the king was so set against him, that he, who at all times took more care of himself than of his friends, would not, in so critical a time, seem to favour a man whom the Presbyterians had set up as a sort of an idol amongst them, and on whom they did depend more tban on any other man jilive." — Sivift. " Pray, was this Warriston hanged, or beheaded ? A very fit uncle for such a Bishop !" P. 220. Burnet. '^ Pensionary De Witt had the notion of a Commonwealth from the Greeks and llomans. HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. iSj Romans, and from thence he came to fancy that an army commanded by oihcers of their own country- was both more in their own power, and would serve them with the niore zeal, since they themselves hud such an interest in their succe&s.'"-—Swift. " lie ought to have judged the contrary." P. 22')' Burnet, speaking of the sUght rebellion in the West, \ 666, says, " The rest of the rebels were favoured by the darkness of the night, and the king's troops were not in case to pursue them, for they were a poor harmless company of men, become mad with oppression." — Suiifh " A fair Historian !'* P. 238. Burnet. " Sir John Cunningham was not only an eminent lawyer ; but was above all a man of eminent probity, and of a sweet temper, and indeed one of the plovsest men of the nation." -^Swift. " Pray, is that Scotch ?" P. 242. Burnet. " When the Peace of Breda was concluded, the king writ to the Scottish coun- cil, and conmiunicated that to them, and with that signified that it was his pleasure tliat the army should be disbanded."-— AS'/zT/if, '' Here are four thats in one line." P. 243. Burnet. " Sir Robert Murray, appre^ hensive that Episcopacy was to be pulled down, wrote a long and sorrowful letter to Sheldon, and upon that Sheldon wrote a very long one to sir Robert, which I read, and found more temperate than I could have expected from him.'^^Sivift, *^ Sheldon was a very great and excellent man." P. 245. Burnet. "The countess of Dysart was a woman of great beauty, but of far greater })arts ; she had studied, not only Divinity and History, but Ma- thematics and Philosophy. She was ^'ioleut in every thins: 2^^ swift's remarks on burket's thing she set about — a violent friend, but iimch more violent enemy. When Lauderdale was pri- soner after Worcester fight, she made liim believe he was in great danger of his life, and that she saved it by her intrigues with Cromwell." — " Swiff, " Cromwell had gallantries with her." P, 253. Burnet, speaking of Sheldon's remon- strating with the king about his mistresses, adds, " From that day Sheldon could never recover the king's confidence." — Swift. " Sheldon refused the sacrament to the king, for living in adultery." P. 257. Burnet. " Thus lord Clarendon fell un- der the common fate of great ministers, whose em- ploym.ent exposes them to envy, and draws upon them the indignation of all who are disappointed in their pretensions." — Swift. " Stupid moralist !" P. 258. Burnet, speaking of the earl of Roches- ter, second son of the lord Clarendon : " He was thought the smoothest man in the court, and du- ring all the disputes concerning his father, he made his court so dextrously, that no resentments ever appeared on that head. He is a man of far greater parts than his brother (who, in resentment of his father's ill treatment, always opposed the court), has a very good pen, but speaks not gracefully." — Swift. " Pray, was this pen of gold or silver ?" P. 258. Burnet. " In a conversation I had with the king in his closet, I was struck to hear a prince of his course of life so much disgusted at the ambi- tion and covetousness of the clergy,— -He said, if the clergy had done their part, it would have been an easy matter to run down the Nonconformists. He told me, he had a chaplain, that was a very ho- liest man, but a very great blockhead, to v.hom he htid HISTORY OF HIS OU'N TL'\IES. 1()7 liad given a living; in Suffolk, that was full of that sort of peopk\ He had gone about among then?i from house to house, though he could not imagine what he could say to them, for he said he was a very silly fellow, but that he ^ believed his nonsense suited theirs,' for he had brought them all to church, and in reward for his diligence he had given him a bishopric in Ireland." — Swift. " Bishop WoUey, of Cionfcrt ." P. 251). Burnet. " If the sectaries were humble and modest, and would tell v^hat would satisfy them, there might l}e some colour for granting them some concessions." — Swift. " I think so too." P. 26s ■ Burnet, Speaking of the king's attach- ment to Nell Gwyn, says, " And yet, after all, he never treated her with the decencies of a mistress.'' — Smift, " Pray, what decencies are these ?" P. 263. Burnet. *' The king had another mis- tress, who wars managed by lord Shaftesbury, who, was the daughter of a clergyman (one Roberts), in whom her first education had so deep a root, th^rt though she fell into many scandalous disorders, with very dismal adventures in them all, yet a prin- ciple of religion was so deeply laid in her, that though it did not i-estrain her, yet it kept alive in her such a constant horror of sin, that she was never easy in an ill course of life, and died with great sense of her former conduct. I was often with her the last three months of her life." — Swift. " Wa* she handsome then r" P. 2G'). Burnet. " Sedley had a more copious wit, and sudden, than that which furnished a per- petual run of discourse ; but he was not so correct as If) 8 swiit's remarks on iSurnet's as iorri Dorset, nor so sparkling as lord Rochester." —Sinft, "^ No better a critic in wit than in style." V. 2Q6. Burnet. " Lord Robarts, afterwards earl of Radnor, who succeeded the duke of Ormond in his government of Ireland, was a morose man, be- lieved to be sincerely just, and as wise as a cynical humour could allow him to be." — Swift. " How does that hinder wisdom ?" P. 273. Burnet. " Charles II. confessed him- self a Papist to the prince of Orange ; and the prince told me, he never spoke of this to any other person till after his death"— Swift. " What ! af- ter his own death ?" ^"^^ '/^ ^ P. 288. Burnet. " The Episcopal party thought I intended to make myself popular at their cost ; ^ so^they began that strain of fury and calumny that ' ^ Ms pursued me ever since from that sort of people. "^ 'i — Swift. *' A civil term for all who are Episco- pal 1" ' P. 298. Burnet. *'' In compiling the Memoirs of the duke of Hamilton, I found there materials for a very large history. I writ it with great sincerity, and concealed none of their errors. I did, indeed, conceal several things that related to the king — I left out some passages that were in his letters, in some of which was too much weakness." — Swift. " These letters, if they had been published, could not have given a worse character of him." P. 300. Burnet y speaking of the Scotch cler- gy refusing to be made bishops, says, " They had an ill opinion of the court, and could not be brought to leave their retirement." — Swift. " For that reason they should have accepted bishoprics." P. 303. HISTORY OF Ills OWN TIMJES. . lg(} V. 303. Biirnet. '' Madame (Charles the Se- cond's sister) had an intrigue with another person, whom I knew well, the count of Treville. WJien she was in her last agonies, she said, "Adieu, Treville!'* He was so struck with this accident, that it had a good effect on him, for he went and lived many years amongst the Fathers of the Oratory, and be- came both a very- learned and devout man. He came afterwards out into the world. I saw him often. He was a man of a very sweet temper, only a little too formal for a Frenchman ; but he was veiy sincere. He was a Jansenist. He hated the Jesuits, and had a very mean opinion of the king, which appeared in all the instances in M'hich it was safe for him to shew it." — Swift. " Pretty jumping periods 1 " P. 304. Burnet. " When a foreign minister asked the king's leave to treat with Lockhart in his master's name, the kin^ consented, but with this sev^ere reflection. That he believed he would be true to any body but himself." — Swift. " Does he mean, Lockhart would not be true to Lockhart?" P. 306. Burnet. " Tiie'earl of Shaftsbury was the chief man who advised the king to shut up the Exchequer." — Swift. " Clifford had the merit of it." P. 321. Burnet. " As soon as king William 'was brought into the command of the armies, he told me he spoke to De Witt, and desired to live in ^n entire confidence with him — His ansvv'er wa? cold, so he saw he could not depend upon him : when he told me this, he added. He certainly war, one of tlie greatest men of the age, and he be- lieved he served his country faithfully." — Swift. *^ind 200 SWIFT S REMARKS ON BURNET S *^ And yet, for all this, the prince contrived that he should be murdered." P. 322. Burnet. " In this famous campaign of Louis XIV. against the Dutch (1672) there was so little heart or judgment shewn in the management of that run of success, that when that year is pro- perly set out, it will appear to be one of the least glorious of his life." — Swift, " A metaphor, only fit for a gamester." P. 338. Burnet. " Prince Waldeck was their cliief general, a man of great compass, and a true judgment, equally able in the cabinet and in the camp. But he was always unsuccessful, because he was never furnished according to the schemes he had laid down. The opinion that armies had of him, as an unfortunate general, made him really so, for soldiers cannot have much heart, when they have not an entire confidence in him that has the cliief command." — Swift. " When he speaks of his great compass, I suppose he means he was very fat." P. 327. Burnet. — '' It seems, the French made no great account of their prisoners, for they re- leased 25,000 Dutch for 50,000 crowns." — Swift. ^' What ! ten shillings apiece ! By much too dear for a Dutchman." P. 337. Burnet. '-'This year (1672) the king cieclared a new mistress, and made her duchess of Portsmouth. She had been maid of honour to Madame, the king's sister; and had come over with her to Dover, v/here the king had expressed such a regard for her, that the duke of Buckingham, who bated the duchess of Cleveland, intended to put her on the lilng.' — Swift. " Surely, he means the con- trarv*' P. 341. HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIME-. 201 P. 341. Bunief. " Duke of Lauderdale called on me all of a sudden, and put me in mind of the project 1 had laid before him of putting all the ousted ministers by couples into parishes, that, in- stead of wandering about the country to hold Con- venticles, they might be stationary, and may have half a benefice." — Src'ift. " A pretty Scotch project ! instead of feeding ^h/, you starve one hundred:" P. 370. Burnet. " I was ever of Nazanzien's opinion, who never wished to see any more synods of the clergy." — Swift. " Dog !'^ P. 372. Burnet., speaking of an insurrection in Scotland, says, " The king said, he was afraid I was too busy, and wished me to be more quiet." — Swif't, " The king knew him right." Ibid. Burnet. "I preached in many of the churches in London, and was so well received, that it was probable 1 might be accepted of in any way that depended on a popular election." — Swift. " Very much to his honour \" P-373- Burnet. " This violent and groundless prosecution lasted some months ; and during this time I said to some, that duke Lauderdale had gone so tar in opening some wicked designs to me, that I perceived he could not be satisfied unless I was undone — so I told what was mentioned before of the discourses that passed between hiin and me." — Sivi/t. " A Scotch dog !" P. 378. Burnet. "I v»-ill henceforth leave the account of our affairs beyond sea wholly to Tem- ple's Letters, in which they are very truly and fully set forth." — Sivi/'t. "^ Sir William Temple was a man of sense and virtue, to v/hich Burnet was a stranger." P P. 380. f 02 SWlrr's REMARKS ON BURNETTS P. 380. Buniet, speaking of his being pressed before parliament to reveal what passed between him and the duke of Lauderdale In private; and the parliament, iw case of refusal, threatening him ; he says, " Upon this I yielded, and gave an account of what I formerly mentioned." — Sulft. " Treacherous villain !" P. 382. Burjiet. " Sir Harbottle Grimston had always a great tenderness for Dissenters, though still in the communion of the Church." — Swift, '^' Burnet's test of all virtues." Ibid. Burnet. " Lady Grimston was the humblest, the devoutest, and best-tempered person I ever hnew of that'^orf (Church of England). — Swift. « Ah ! Rogue !" P. 3,92. Burnet. " Saneroft, dean of St. Paul's^ was raised to the see of Canterbury. He was a man of solemn- deportment, had a sullen gravity in his* looks, and was considerably learned. He had put on a monastic strictness, and lived abstracted from company. These things, together with his livings unmarried, and his being fixed in the old maxims of high loyalty, and a superstitious valuing of little things, made the Court conclude that he wets a man who might be entirely gained to serve all their ends, or at least that he would be an unactive speculative man, and give them little opposition in any thing they might attempt, when they had more promising opportunities." — Swift. " False and detracting." . P. 406. Burnet. " In this battle between the prince o^ Orange (afterwards king William) and the duke of Orleans, some regiments of marines, on * ■whom the prince depended, did basely run away ; yet the other bodies fought so well that he lost not much HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIM^S. 203 much except the honour of the day" — Swift. *' What he was pretty well used to." P. 413. Burnet. '* Upon the examination of Mitchell before the privy council for the intended assassination of archbishop Shar[)e, it being first proposed to cut ofi' the prisoner's right hand, and then his left; lord Rothes, who was a pleasant man, saidj * Then how shall he wipe his b — ch ?' — This is not very decent to be mentioned, in such a work, if it were not necessary." — Swft. " As decent as a thousand other passages^ so he might have spared his apology." P. 414. Burnet, in the last article of the above trial, observes, "That the judge, who hated Sharpe, as he went up to the bench, passing by tiie prisoner whispered him — " Confess nothing, except you are sure of your limbs as well as your life.'* — Swift, " O rare judge !" P. 416'. Burnet, speaking of the execution of the above Mitchell for the attempt against Sharpe, says, " Yet the duke of Lauderdale had a chaplain (Hickes), afterwards dean of Worcester, who pub- lished a false and partial relation of this matter, in order to the justifying it." — Sic ft. " He was a learned and a pious man." P. 425. Burnet. " Titus Gates had gotten to be a chaplain in one of the king's shi})s, from which he was dismissed upon com})laint of some unnatural practices." — Sivift. " Only s y." P. 441. Burnet. " On the impeachment of lord Danby, Maynard, an antient and eminent lawyer, explained the words of the statute 25th Edward III. that tlie courts of law could not proceed but upon P 2 one 204 swift's remarks on Burnet's one of the crimes there enumerated, but tlie par- liament had still a power by the clause in that act to declare what was treason." — Siciji. " Yes — by a new act, but not by retrospect there ; for Maynard was a hiave and a fool, with, ail his law^ P. 455. Burnet. " The Bill of Exclusion cer- tainly disinherited the next heir, which the king and parliament might do as well as any private man might disinherit his next heir." — Sivift. " This is not always true ; yet it was certainly in the power of the king and parliament to exclude the next heir." P. 450 . Burnet. " For a great while I thought the limitations proposed in the Exclusion Bill was the wisest and best method." — Swift. " It was the wisest, because it would be less opposed, and the king would consent to it — otherwise an exclusion would have done better." Burnet, speaking of the party-writings for and against the Presbyters and Churchmen, continues, " The chief manager of all these angry writings was one sir Roger L' Estrange, a man who had lived in all the late times, and was furnished with many passages, and an unexhausted copiousness in writ- ing." — Swift. " A superficial meddling coxcomb." P. 483. Burnet. " I laid open the cruelties of the church of Rome in queen Mary's time, which were not then known; and I aggravated, though veyy truly, the danger of falling under the power of that religion." — Swift. " A bull!" Ibid. Burnet. " Sprat had studied a polite style much, but there was little strength in it. He had the bednnino's of learning laid well in him ; but he -has HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. 205 has allowed himself in a course of some years in much sloth, and too many liberties." — SiviJ't. " Very false." P. 509. Burnet, speaking of the grand juries in the latter end of king Cliarles's reign returning 7^- noramus so frequently on bills of indictment, states, that in defence of those Ignoramus Juries it was said, " That, by the express words of their oath, they were bound to make true presentments of what should appear true to them ; and therefore, if tliey did not believe the evidence, they could not find a bill, though sworn to. A book was writ to support this, in which both law and reason were brought to confirm it." — Swift. " This book was written by lord Somers." P. 525. Burnet. " Home was convicted on the credit of one evidence.— -jipplicat^ons, 'tis true, were made to the duke of York for saving his life ; but he was not born under a pardoning planet T — Swift. "Silly fop!" Burnet J speaking of the surrender of the charters in 1682 — " It was said that those who were in the government in corporations, and had their charters and seals trusted to their keeping, were not the pro- prietors nor masters of those rights. Th-^y could not extinguish those corporations, nor part with any of their privileges. Others said, ' that whatever might be objected to the reason and equity of the tiling, yet when the seal of a corporation was put to any deed, such a deed was good in law.' This matter goes beyond my skill in law to determine." — Swift. '• What does he tliink of the surrender of charters, abbeys, «xc. t^c. ?" P. 528. Burnet. " The Non-conformists were now 206 swift's remarks on burnet's now persecuted with much eagerness. This w^ visibly set on by the Papists ; and it was wisely done by them ; for they knew how much the Aon- conformists were set against them."' — Swift. " Not so much as they are against the Church." P, 536. Burnet. " The truth is, juries became at that time the shame of the Nation, as well as a re- proach to Religion ; for they were packed, and pre- pared to bring in verdicts as they were directed, and not as matters appeared in the evidence." — Swift. " So they are now." P. 543. Burnet, on Rumbold's proposal to shoot the king at Hodsdon in his vvay to New- market, adds, " The conspirators then ran into much loicked talk, about the means of executing it — ^but nothing was fixed upon ; all was but talk." — Sivift. " All plots begin with talk." P. 548. Burnet. At the time of lord Russel's plot — " Baillie being asked by the king whether they had any design against his person ? — he frankly said not : but being asked whether he had any con- sultation with lords or other persons about an insur- rection in Scotland, Baillie faultered at this ; for his conscience restrained him from h/ing." — Swift. *' The author and his cousins could not lie, but they could plot." P- 553. Burnet, speaking of lord Essex's suicide (I&83), " His man thinking he staid longer than ordinary in his closet, looked through the key-hole, and saw him lying dead." — Swiff, " He cut his throat with a razor on the close-stool." P. 555. Burnet. " On lord Russel's trial Finch summed up the evidence against him, but shewed more of a vicious eloquence in turning matters HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIAtES. ^O'J a^aiust the prisoner than law." — Sivift. " Finch ^^■iis afterwards earl of Aylesford. An arrant r 1 !" P. 56*8. Burnet. " All {x^ople were apprehensive of very black designs when they saw Jefteries made cliief justice of the king's bench *, who was so scandalously vicious, and was drunk every day ; be^ side, he had a drunkenness of fury in his temper that looked like enthusiasm. He did not consider the decencies of his post ; nor did he seem so much as to affect to >seem impartial, a^ became a judge, but ran out upon all occasions into declamations that * " Amongst the many scandalous appointments of trust during the profligate reign of Charles the Second, calling up JetFerics to such high situations as he possessed, was one of the most notO' rious. In addition to his well-known character of a libertine and a servile courtier, he was that of a dishonest man and a shuffler in his private dealings, as the following anecdote (ne\ er before pub- iislied) will evince. Having obtained u grant from king Charles II. of a lot of ground on the East side of St. James's park, he em- ployed an architect to build him a very magnificent house there, *ith a private chapel, &c. As soon as the building was com- pleted, the architect of course called upon him for payment, but was put olFj he called again and again, but never could see him, and \\ as often lepulsed from his gate by the porter ^vith rudeness and ill language. The general character and desiK)tic power of Jotrcrics prev entcd the architect from taking any legal steps in the bu-incss, till Jefferies' power began to wane upon the first flight of king James, He then made his way into Jefteries" study, saw him, and pressed for his money in very urgent terms, Jefferie^ appeared all humbled and much confused ; made many apologies for not settling the matter before ; said, he had many weighty af^ fair.-, pressing on his mind at that time ; but if he would call th6 Tuesday following it should be finally settled. The architect went away after this pi'omise ; but between that and Tuesday, Jefteries, in endeavouring to make his escape from England, was found out, re\ iled, and much brui:jed by the populace." Mr. Se w.vrd, in th**. European Magazine^ 1795, \o\. XXVJII. p. 2 18. did 208 swift's remarks on burnet's did not become the bar, much less the bench. He was not learned in his profession eitlier : and his eloquence, though viciously copious, was neither correct nor agreeable." — Swift. " Somewhat like Burnet's eloquence." P. 572. Burnet^ on Algernon Sydney's trial, observes, " that Finch aggravated the matter of the book, as a proof of his intentions : for he said, " Scrihere est agere." — Sivift. ^' And yet king George made him earl of Aylesford." Ibid. Bio^nef. " When Sydney charged the sHeriifs who brought him the execution-warrant, with having packed the jury, one of the sheriffs wept. He told it to a person from whom Tillotson had it, who told it to me." — Swift. " Abominable authority !" ■P. 577. Burnet. " So that it was plain that, af- ter all the story which they had made of the Rye- house Plot, it had gone no further, and that a com- pany of seditious and inconsiderable persons were framing among themselves some treasonable schemes that were never likely to come to any thing." — Swift. " Cursed partiality !" P. 579. Burnet. '' The king (Charles H.) had published a story all about the Court, as a reason for his severity against Armstrong, that he had been sent over by Cromwell to murder him beyond sea •, and upon Armstrong's conviction, though the king promised he would not reveal it during his life, yet now looking upon him as dead in law. he was free from that promise." — Sivift. " If the king had a mind to lie, he would have waited till Armstrong was hanged." P, 585. Burnet. " Finding the difficulty of dis- covering HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. 209 covering any thing, and in confidence, I saved my- self out oi" these dilHculties by saying to all my friends, that I woukl not be involved in any such confidence ; for as long as 1 thought our circum- stances were such that resistance was not lawful, I thought the concealing any design in order to it was likewise unlawful." — Swift. " Jesuitical !" P. 586. Burnet. " Baillie suffered several hardships and fines for being supposed to be in the Ryehouse Plot ; yet during this he seemed so composed, and ever so cheerful, that his behaviour looked like the revival of the spirit of the noblest Greeks and Ro- mans.'^ — Swift. " Take notice, he was our Cousin^ P. 587. Burnet., speaking of Baillie's execu- tion, says, " The only excuse there was ever pretended for this infamous prosecution was, that they were sure he was guilty, and that the whole se- cret of the negotiation between the two kingdoms was trusted to him ; and, since he would not disco- ver it, all methods might be taken to destroy him." ^— Swift. " Case of the bishop of Rochester." P. 588. Burnet. " Lord Perth wanting to see Leighton, I wrote so earnestly to him, that he came to London ; and on his coming up was ama- zed to see a man of seventy years of age look so well and fresh, as if fime seemed to stand still with him; and yet the next day both speech and sense left him, and he continued panting about twelve hours, and then died without pang or convulsion." — Swift. *' Burnet killed him by bringing him up to Lon- don." P. 589. Burnet. " There were two remarkable circumstances in Leighton s death. He used often to say, that if he were to chuse a place to die in, it should JMO swift's remarks on BURNET** should bean inn, it looking like a pilgrim's going^ home, to whom this world was ail an inn, and who was weary of the noise and confusion of it. He added, that the ofiicious tenderness of his friends was an entanglement to a dying man, and that the unconcerned attendance of those that conld he pro- cured in such a place would give less disturbance. He had his wish." — Sn-ift. " Canting puppy!" P. 590. Burnet. " Steame, archbishoj) of York, ^ied this year (16*84), i" the 86th year of his age. He was a sour ill-tempered man, and minded chiefly to enrich his family." — Swift. " And yet he was thought to be the author of the Whole Duty of Man." P- .'>.9^- Burnet. " Being appointed to preach the sermon on the Gunpowder Plot ( 1 6'S4) at the Jiolls chajx^l, I took for my text, ' Save me from il^e lion s mouth ; thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorn.' — I made no reflections in my thoughts on the lion and unicorn, as being the two supporters of the king's escutcheon, for I ever hated all ]X)ints of tliat sort, as a profanation of Scrip- tures." — Simft. " I doubt that." Bttrnefy speaking of the suspicion of Charles II. being poisoned — ■' Needliam called twice, to have the stomach opened, but the surgeons seemed not to hear him ; and when he moved it a second time, as he told me, heard Lower say to one that stood next him, ' Needham will undo us, callinj;' thus to have the stomach opened, for lie may see they will not do it,' They were diverted to look to somewhat else ; and when they returned to look upon the ston)ach, it was carried away, so that it was never viewed. Le Fevre, a French })hy- sician. HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. 211 sician, told me, he saw a blackness in the shoulder, upon which he made an incision, and saw it was all mortified. Short, another physician, who was a Papist, but after a form of his own, did very much suspect foul dealing-, and he had talked more freely of it than any of the Protestants durst do at that time." — Stcift. " A physician told me, who had it from Short himself, that he believed him to be poisoned." P. 596. Burnet, concluding the character of Charles II. — " His person and temper, his vices as well as his fortunes, resemble the character that we have E^iven us of Tiberius so much, that it were easy to draw the parallel between them. Tiberius's banishment, and his coming afterwards to reign, makes the comparison in that respect pretty near — his hating of business, and love of pleasures — his raising of favourites, and trusting them entifeiy, and then his putting them down, and hating them excessively. — his art of covering deep designs, parti- cularly of revenge, with an appearance of softness, brings them so near a likeness, that I did not won- der much to observe the resemblance of their faces and persons. At Rome I saw one of the last sta- tues made for Tiberius, after he had lost his teeth ; but, bating the alteration which that made, it was so like King Charles, that prince Borghese and signior Dominica, to whom it belonged, did agree with me in thinking that it looked hke a statue made for him." — Swift. " He was certainly a very bad prince, but not to the degree described in this cha- racter, which is poorly drawn, and mingled with malice, very unworthy an historian : the style is likewise abominable, as is the whole history, of ob- gervations trite and vulg-ar.*' P. 651. 512 swift's remarks on BURNET'S F. 651. Burnet. '' Goodenough, who had been under-sheriff of London when Cornish was sheriff, offered to svVear against Cornish, and also said, that Rumsey had not discovered ail he knew. So Ram- sey, to save himself and Goodenough, swore against Cornish ; and he was seized on, tried, and executed in a week." — Swift. " Goodenough afterwards went to Ireland, practised the law, and died there." P. 654. Burnet. " The. archbishop of Armagh * (16S5) had continued lord chancellor of Ireland, and was in all respects so complaisant to the Court, that even his religion became suspected." — Swift. " False !" Ibid. Burnet. " And yet this archbishop was not thought thorough-paced ; — so sir Charles Por- ter, who was a zealous promoter of every thing the king proposed, and was a man of ready wit, and, being poor, was thought a person fit to be made a tool of, was declared lord chancellor of Ireland -j-." — Swift. " False and scandalous." P. 669. Burnet. " Solicitor-general Finch had been continued in this employment only to lay the load of this judgment upon him (the prosecution of Lord De la Mere). He was presently after turned out, and Fowls succeeded him, who was a com- * Michael Boyle, who, when Archbishop of Dublin, was made Chancellor soon aftei- the Restoration (1665), and continued in that office to January 16S6, during which time he was raised to the Archbishopric of Armagh. Sewarp. f Notwithstanding this character of sir Charles Porter, king James did not think him thorough-paced enough to carry on hi? views in Ireland j accordingly, he remained in office but one year, Tindwas succeeded as Chancellor by sir Alexander Fitter, a man every way qualified to /Stretch both Law and Gospel to Court pur- poses. Seward. pliant. HISTORY OF HIS OWN TI.VlES. SIJ pliant, young, asjiirinn; lawyer." — Swift. " Sir Tho- mas Povvis — good dull lawyer." P. G72. Burnet. " Intimations were eveiy where given, that the king would not liave the Dissenters or their meetings disturbed. Some of them began to grow insolent upon this show of favour." — Swift. " The whole body of them grew insolent, and complying to the king." P. 6*75. Burnet. " Bancroft lay silent at Lam- beth. He seemed zealous against Popery in private discourse ; but he was of such a timorous temper, and so set on the enriching hi^ nephew, that he shewed no sort of courage." — Swift, " False as Hell." P. 6S1. Burnet. " The Episcopal clergy were in many places so sunk in sloth and ignorance, tiiat tliey were not callable of conducting their zeal ; but the Presbyterians, though smarting under great se- verities, expressed on all occasions their unconquer- able aversion to Popery." — Swift. " Partial dog !" P. 6qo. Burnet, speaking of king William's character, says, " He had no vice but one sort, in which he was very cautious and secret." — Swift, " It was of two sorts — male and female — in the former he was neither cautious nor secret." P. 691. Burnet. " In a conversation with the prince of Orango at the Hague (1686), when 1 told him my opinion of toleration, he said, ' that was all he would ever attempt to bring us to, for quieting our contentions at home'," — Swift. " So it seems the prince even then thoBght of being king." P. 6'92. Burnet. " The advice I gave the prin- cess of Orange when queen of England was, to en- deavour to get the power of king to the prince for life; 5fl4 ffWIFT*S REMARKS ON BURNET'S life ; for this would lay the greatest obligation oil him possible, and lay the foundation of a perfect union between them, winch had of late been a little embroiled." — Swift. " On account of Mrs. Villiers, now lady Orkney ; but he proved a P. 526. Burnet. " The faction here found out proper instruments to set the same humour on foot in Ireland, during the last of Rochester's govern- ment, and, as was said, by his directions. So the clergy HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. 225 clergy were making the same bold claims there that had raised such disputes amongst us." — Swift: " Dog ! dog! dog!" R 580. Burnet. '^ One Prior, who had been Jersey's secretary, upon his death was employed to prosecute that peace which his principal did not live to finish. Prior had been taken a boy out of a ta- vern by the earl of Dorset, who accidentally found him reading Horace, and he being veiy generous, gave him an education in literature." — Swift. '• Ma- lice ! " P. 581. Burnet. " Many mercenary pens were set at work to justify our proceedings, and to defame our allies, more particularly the Dutch. This w^as done with much art, but with no regard to truthy in a pamphlet entitled ' The Conduct of the Allies, and of the late Ministry'." — Swift. " It was all true." P. 582. Burnet. " The Jacobites did with the greater joy entertain this prospect of peace, because the dauphin had, in a visit to St. Germaine, con- gratulated that court upon it, which made them con elude it was to have a happy effect with relation to the pretender's affairs." — Swift. " The queen hated and despised the pretender, to my knowledge." P. 583. Burnet. " In a conference I had with the queen on the subject of ])eace, ' she hoped bishops would not be against peace,' I said, a good peace was what we prayed for ; but any treaty by which Spain and the West Indies were left to king Philip, must in a little time deliver all Eurojje into the hands of France ; and if any such peace could be made, she was betrayed, and we were all ruined ; in less than three years time she would be murdered, and 226 swift's remarks on burnet's and the fires would again be raised in Smithfieid."— - Swift. " A false prophet in every particular." P. 589. Burnet. " The queen having sent a mes- sage to the lords to adjourn, it v/as debated that the queen could not send a message to any one house to adjourn, Vv hen the like message was not sent to both houses. The pleasure of the prince in convening, dissolving, proroguing, or ordering the adjournment of parliament, was always directed to both houses ; but never to one house, without the same intima- tion being given to the other." — SwiJ't. " Modern nonsense." P. 591. Burnet. " The House of Commons after their recess entered on the observations of the com- missioners for taking the public accounts, and be- gan with Walpole (sir Robert Walpole), whom they resolved to put out of the way of disturbing them in the house. The thing laid to his charge stood thus : after he, as secretary at war, had contracted with some for forage to the horse that lay in Scotland, he, finding that the two persons who had contracted for it made some gain by it, named a friend of his own as a third person, that he might have a share in the gain ; but the other two had no mind to let him in to know the secret of their management, so they of- fered him j^?;e hundred pounds for his share ; he ac- cepted it, and the money was remitted. But they not knowing his address, directed their bill to Walpole, who endorsed it, and the person concerned received the money. This transaction was found out, and Wal- pole was charged with it as a bribe that he had taken for his own use for making the contract. Both the persons that remitted the money and he who re- ceived HISTORY OF HIS OWN TIMES. 22J ceived it were examined, and affirmed that Walpole was neither (hrectly or indirectly concerned in the master ; hut tlie house insisted upon his having en- dorsed the hill, and not only voted this a corruption, but sent him to the Tower, and expelled him the IJ^usc." — Swift. " Walj)ole began early, and has been thriving in this business twenty-seven years up to January 1/39-" P. 609. Burnet. " A new set of addresses ran about. Some mentioned the Protestant succession and the house of Hanover with zeal, others more coldly, and some made no mention at all of it ; and it was universally believed that no addresses were so acceptable to the minister as those of the last sort" • — Swift. " Foolish and factious." P. 6^10. Burnet. " The duke of Ormond had o iven the States such assurances of his going along with them through the whole campaign, that he was let into the secrets of all their councils, which by that confidence were all known to the French ; and if the auxiliary German troops had not been prepared to disobey his orders, it was believed he, in conjunc- tion with the French army, vvould have forced the States to come into the new measures ; but that was happily prevented." — Swift. " Vile Scotch dog ! how does he dare to touch Ormond's honour so falsely ?" P. 669. Burnet, speaking of the progress of his own life, says, ' The pleasures of sense I did soon nauseate'." — Swift. " Not so soon with the wine of some elections." Here end the remarks on Bishop Burnet's History of his own Times ; but opposite to the title page of ^' The 228 swift's remarks on BURNET'S HISTORY. *' The Life of the Author, by Thomas Burnet, Esq." and in the Life, are the following remarks : Opposite the title page. — Swif't. " A rude violent party-business." In the Life, p. 722. Thomas Burnet. " The cha- racter I have given of his wives will scarce mak^it an addition to his character that he was a most af- fectionate husband. His tender care of \he Jirst, during a course of sickness that lasted for many years, and his fond love of the other two, and the deep concern he expressed for their loss, were no more than their just due from one of his humanity, gratitude, and discernment." — Swift. "What! only three wives!" P. 723. Thomas Burnet. "The bishop was a kind and bountiful master to his servants, whom he never changed but with regret, and through neces- sity ; friendly and obliging to all in employment under him, and peculiarly happy in the choice of them ; particularly in that of the steward to the bi- shoprick and his courts, William Wastefield, esq. (a gentleman of a plentiful fortune at the time of his accepting this post), and in that of his domestic steward, Mr. Machiai/." — Swift. " A Scot ; his own countryman." ( 229 ) DR. PARNELL TO DR. SWIFT, ^ ox HIS BIRTH-DAY, NOV. 3O, I7I3. URG'D b}- the wtirmth of Frientlship's sacred flame. But more by all the glories of thy fame ; By all those offsprings of thy learned mind. In judgment solid, as in wit refin'd, Resolv'd, I sing ; tho' labouring up the way To reach my theme ; O Swift, accept my lay. Rapt by the force of thought, and rais'd above, Thro' Contemplation's airy fields I rove ; Where powerful Fancy purifies my eye, And lights the beauties of a brighter sky ; Fresh paints the meadows, bids green shades ascend. Clear rivers wind, and opening plains extend ; Then fills its landscape thro' the varied parts With Virtues, Graces, Sciences, and Arts : Superior forms, of more than mortal air, More large than mortals, more serenely fair. Of these two Chiefs, the guardians of thy name, Conspire to raise thee to the point of fame. Ye Future times, I heard the silver sound ! I saw the Graces form a circle round ! Each, where she fix'd, attentive seem'd to root, And all, but Eloquence herself, w^as mute. High, o'er the rest, I see the Goddess rise, Loose to the breeze her upper garment flies : By turns, within her eyes the Passions burn, And softer Passions languish in their turn : Upon her tongue Persuasion, or Command ; And decent Action dwells upon her hand. From 230 DR. FARNELL TO DR. SWIFT From out her breast ('twas there the treasure lay) She drew thy labours to the blaze of day. Then gaz'd, and read the charms she could inspire^ And taught the listening audience to admire. How strong thy flight, how large thy grasp of thought. How just thy schemes, how regularly wrought ; * How sure you wound when ironies deride. Which must be seen, and feign to turn aside. Twas thus, exploring, she rejoic d to see Her brightest features drawn so near by thee : '' Then here, she cries, let future ages dwell, '* And learn to copy where they can't excel." She spake. Applause attended on the close : Then Poesy, her sister-art, arose ; Her fairer sister, born in deeper ease. Not made so much for bus'ness, more to please. Upon her cheek sits Beaut}^, ever young ; The soul of Music warbles on her tongue ; Bright in her eyes a pleasing ardour glows. And from her heart the sweetest temper flows : A laurel-wreath adorns her curls of hair. And binds their order to the dancing air ; She shakes the colours of her radiant wing, And, from the spheres, she takes a pitch to sing : " Thrice happy Genius his, whose Works have hit " The lucky point of bus'ness and of wit ! " They seem like sho wers,w hich April months prepare *' To call their flowery glories up to air : " The drops, descending, take the painted bow, " And dress with sunshine, while for good they flow . " To me retiring oft, he finds relief " In slowly-wasting care, and biting grief: " From me retreating oft, he gives to view " What eases care and grief in others too. '' Ye ON niS lilRTH-DAY. 231 *' Ye fondly grave, be wise enough to know, " Life neer unbent were hut a life of woe. '' Some full in stretch for greatness, soane for gain, <' On his own rack each puts himself to pain. " I'll gently steal you from your toils away, " \Vhere balmy winds with scents ambrosial play ; " Where, on the banks as crystal rivers flow, " They teach immortal amaranths to grow : " Then from the mild indulgence of tlie scene, '^ Restore your tempers strong for toils again." She ceas'd : soft music trembled in the wind, And^sweet delight diifus'd through every mind : ^TTie^httle Smiles, which still the Goddess grace. Sportive arose, and ran from face to face. But chief (and in that place the Virtues bless) A gentle band their eager joys express : Here Friendship asks, and love of merit longs To hear the Goddesses renew their songs ; Here great Benevolence to man is pleas'd ; These own their Swift, and grateful hear him prais'd. You, gentle band, you well may bear your part_, You reign superior Graces in his heart. O Swift ! if fame be life (as well we know That Bards and Heroes have esteem'd it so). Thou canst not wholly die ; thy Works will shine To future times, and Life in Fame be thine. f 232 ) CHARACTER OF SWIFT: BY MR. GRANGER. Jonathan Swift was blessed, in a higher de- gree than any of his contemporaries, with the ■po\ v'ers of a creative geniy«!. The more we d^yelI upon the chai^acter and writings of this great man, the more they improve upon us : in whatever hght we v i ew hhu, he still appears to be an original. 'His wit, his humour, his patriotism, Tns^cEarTty, and even his piet}*, were of a different cast from those of other men. He had, in his virtues, few equals; and, in his talents, no superior. In that _ of hyjnour, and more especially in irony,, he ever ^yas. ai j ^'^ro1>a^v ^ wUl be, unrivalled. He did the' highest honour to his country by his parts ; and was a great blessing to it by the vigi- lance and activity of his public spirit. His style, which generally consists of the most naked and simple terras, is strong, clear, and expressive ; fa- miliar, without vulgarity or meanness ; and beauti- ful, without affectation or ornament. He is some- times licentious in his satire ; and transgresses the bounds of delicacy and purity. He, in the latter part of his life, availed himfjelf of the privilege of his great wit, to trifle : but when, in this instance, we deplore the misapplication of such wonderful abili- ties, we, at the same time, admire the whims, if not - the dotages, of a Swift. He was, perhaps, the only Clersyman of his time who had a thorough know- ledge of men and manners. His " Tale of a Tub," his " Gullivers Travels," and his " Drapier's Letters," are the most considerable of his prose works ; and his " Legion Club," his " Cadenus and Vanessa," and his " Rhapsody on Poetry," are at the head of his poetical performances. His writ- ings, in general, are regarded as standing models of our language, as well as perpetual monuments of their Author's fame. THE END. KiciioL"; and Son, Printers, ^, - ' • Red Lion Passage, Fleet-strccK./ ■ O? - ; THIP :m > i« nuy ON TIl^ ^T> BT3I UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY Return to desk from which borrowed. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 4Wlay'49i ^i"^^^ ,^