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consequence was feared and courted by all to name of Swift, and it has all the appearances of whom the kindness of the traders or the popu- his diction and sentiments : but it was not lace was necessury. The Drapier was a sign; written in his hand, and had some little impro. the Drapier was a health; and which way soever prieties. When he was charged with this letter, the eye or the ear was turned, some tokens were he laid hold of the inaccuracies, and urged the found of the nation's gratitude to the Drapier. improbability of the accusation, but never denied

The benefit was indeed great; he had rescued it: he shuffles between cowardice and veracity, Ireland from a very oppressive and predatory and talks big when he says nothing.* invasion; and the popularity which he had gain- He seems desirous enough of recommencing ed he was diligent to keep, by appearing forward courtier, and endeavoured to gain the kindness and zealous on every occasion where the public of Mrs. Howard, remembering what Mrs. Ma. interest was supposed to be involved. Nor did sham had performed in former times: but his he much scruple to boast his influence; for when, flatteries were, like those of other wits, unsucupon some attempts to regulate the coin, Arch- cessful; the lady either wanted power, or had bishop Boulter, then one of the justices, accused no ambition of poetical immortality. him of exasperating the people, he exculpated He was seized, not long afterwards, by a fit himself by saying, “If I had lifted up my finger, of giddiness, and again heard of the sickness they would have torn you to pieces.”

and danger of Mrs. Johnson. He then left the But the pleasure of popularity was soon in-house of Pope, as it seems, with very little terrupted by domestic misery. Mrs. Johnson, ceremony, finding “that two sick friends canwhose conversation was to him the great softener not live together;" and did not write to him till of the ills of life, began in the year of the Dra- he found himself at Chester. pier's triumph to decline; and two years after- He returned to a home of sorrow: poor Stella wards was so wasted with sickness, that her re- was sinking into the grave, and, after a lancovery was considered as hopeless.

guishing decay of about two months, died in Swift was then in England, and had been in her forty-fourth year, on January 28, 1723. vited by Lord Bolingbroke to pass the winter How much he wished her life, his papers show; with him in France, but this call of calamity nor can it be doubled that he dreaded the death hastened him to Ireland, where perhaps his of her whom he loved most, aggravated by the presence contributed to restore her to imperfect consciousness that himself had hastened it. and tottering health.

Beauty and the power of pleasing, the greatest He was now so much at case, that (1727) he external advantages that woman can desire or returned to England; where he collected three possess, were fatal to the unfortunate Stella. volumes of Miscellanies in conjunction with The man whom she had the misfortune to love Pope, who prefixed a querulous and apologetical was, as Delany observes, fond of singularity, Preface.

and' desirons to make a mode of happiness for This important ycar sent likewise into the himself, different from the general course of world “Gulliver's Travels ;" a production so things and order of Providence. From the new and strange, that it filled the reader with time of her arrival in Ireland he seems resolved å mingled emotion of merriment and amaze- to keep her in his power, and therefore hin. ment. It was received with such avidity, that dered a match sufficiently advantageous, by ac the price of the first edition was raised before cumulating unreasonable demands, and prescribthe second could be made; it was read by the ing conditions that could not be perfomed. high and the low, the learned and illiterate. While she was at her own disposal he did not Criticism was for a while lost in wonder: no consider his possession as secure; resentment, rules of judgment were applied to a book writ- ambition, or caprice, might separate them; he ten in open defiance of truth and regularity.- was therefore resolved to make " assurance But when distinctions came to be made, the part double sure," and 10 appropriate her hy a priwhich gave the least pleasure was that which vate marriage, to which he had annexed the exdescribes the Flying Island, and that which pectation of all the pleasures of perfect friend. gave most disgust must be the history of the ship without the uneasiness of conjugal restraint, Houyhnhnms.

Bui with this state poor Stella was not satisfied; While Swift was enjoying the reputation of she never was treated as a wife, and to the his new work, the news of the King's death ar- world she had the appearance of a mistress. rived; and he kissed the hands of the new King She lived sullenly on, in hope that in time he and Queen three days after their accession. would own and receive her; but the time did

By the Queen, when she was princess, he had not come till the change of his manners and been treated with some distinction, and was well deprivation of his mind made her tell him, when received by her in her exaltation, but whether he offered to acknowledge her, that "it was too she gave hopes which she never took care to late.” She then gave up herself to sorrowful satisfy, or he formed expectations which she resentment, and died under the tyranny of him, never meant to raise, the event was, that he by whom she was in the highest degree loved always afterwards thought on her with malevo- and honoured. lence, and particularly charged her with break- What were her claims to this eccentric tening her promise of some medals which she en- derness, by which the laws of nature were vio. gaged to send him.

lated to retain her, curiosity will inquire ; but I know not whether she had not, in her turn, how shall it be gratified ? Swift was a lover; some reason for complaint. A letter was sent his testimony may be suspected. Delany and her, not so much entreating, as requiring, her the Irish saw with Swift's eyes, and therefore patronage of Mrs. Barber, an ingenious Irishwoman, who was then begging subscriptions for Sheridan's defence of him from this charge.

It is but justice to the Dean's memory to refer to Mr. ber poems. To this letter was subscribed the Life of Swift," p. 458.-R.

see the there was not one

add little confirmation. That she was virtuous, | terest, and only required that, at repayment, a beautiful, and elegant, in a very high degree, small fee should be given to the accomptant : such admiration from such a lover makes it but he required that the day of promised payvery probable; but she had not much literature, ment should be exactly kept. A severe and for she could not spell her own language ; and punctilious temper is ill qualified for transacof her wit so loudly vaunted, the smart sayings tions with the poor ; the day was often broken, which Swift himself has collected, afford no and the loan was not repaid. This might have splendid specimen.

been easily foreseen ; but for this Swift had The reader of Swift's "Letter to a Lady on made no provision of patience or pity. He orher Marriage,” may be allowed to doubt whe- dered his debtors to be sued. A severe creditor ther his opinion of female excellence ought im- has no popular character ; what then was likely plicitly to be admitted; for, if his general to be said of him who employs the catchpoll Thoughts on women were such as he exhibits, under the appearance of charity? The clamour a very little sense in a lady would enrapture, against him was loud, and the resentment of and a very little virtue would astonish him. the populace outrageous; he was therefore Stella's supremacy, therefore, was perhaps only forced to drop his scheme, and own the folly of local; she was great, because her associates were expecting punctuality from the poor. *. little.

His asperity continually increasing, conIn some Remarks lately published on the Life demned him to solitude ; and his resentment of of Swift, bis marriage is mentioned as fabulous, solitude sharpened his asperity. He was not, or doubtful; but, alas! poor Stella, as Dr. however, totally deserted; some men of learnMadden told me, related her melancholy story ing, and some women of elegance, often visited to Dr. Sheridan, when he attended her as a him ; and he wrote from time to time either clergyman to prepare her for death; and De- verse or prose: of his verses he willingly gave lany mentions it not with doubt, but only with copies, and is supposed to have felt no discontent regret. Swift never mentioned her without a when he saw them printed. His favourite sigh. The rest of his life was spent in Ireland, maxim was, “ Vive la Bagatelle :" he thought in a country to which not even power almost trifles a necessary part of life, and perhaps despotic, nor flattery almost idolatrous, could found them necessary to himself. It seems imreconcile him. He sometimes wished to visit possible to him to be idle, and his disorders England, but always found some reason of made it difficult or dangerous to be long scdelay. He tells Pope, in the decline of life, that riously studious or laboriously diligent. The he hopes once more to see him ; " but if not,” love of case is always gaining upon age, and ho says he, we must part, as all human beings had one temptation to petty amusements pecuhave parted."

liar to himsell'; whatever he did he was sure to After the death of Stella, his benevolence was hear applauded; and such was his predomi. contracted, and his severity exasperated; he mance over all that approached that all their drove his acquaintance from his table, and won applauses were probably sincere. He that is dered why he was deserted. But he continued much flattered soon learns to Matter himself; his attention to the public, and wrote, from we are commonly taught our duty by fear or time to time, such directions, admonitions, or shame, and how can they act upon the man who censures, as the exigency of affairs, in his hears nothing but his own praises ? opinion, made proper; and nothing fell from his As his years increased, his fits of giddiness pen in vain.

and deafness grew more frequent, and his deaf. In a short poem on the Presbyterians, whom ness made conversation difficult : they grew likehe always regarded with detestation, he be wise more severe, till, in 1736, as he was writing stowed one stricture upon Bettesworth, a lawyer a poem called “The Legion Club,” he was eminent for his insolence to the clergy, whích, seized with a fit so painful and so long continued, from very considerable reputation brought him that he never after thought it proper to attempt into immediate and universal contempt. Bettes any work of thought or labour. worth, enraged at his disgrace and loss, went to He was always careful of his money, and was Swift and demanded whether he was the author therefore no liberal entertainer ; but was less of that poem? “Mr. Bettesworth,” answered frugal of his wine than of his meat. When his he, “I was in my youth acquainted with great friends of either sex came to him in expectation lawyers, who, knowing my disposition to satire, of a dinner, his custom was to give every one a advised me, that if any scoundrel or blockhead shilling, that they might please themseives with whom I had lampooned should ask, “Are you their provision. At last his avarice grew too the author of this paper ?' I should tell him that powerful for his kindness; he would refuse a I was not the author; and therefore I tell you, bottle of wine, and in Ireland no man visits Mr. Bettesworth, that I am not the author of where he cannot drink. these lines."

Having thus excluded conversation and deBeltesworth was so little satisfied with this sisted from study, he had neither business nor account, that he publicly professed his resolu- amusement ; for having by some ridiculous re. tion of a violent and corporal revenge ; but the solution or mad vow determined never to wear inhabitants of St. Patrick's district'imbodied spectacles, he could make little use of books in themselves in the Dean's defence. Bettesworth his later years; his ideas, therefore, being nei. declared in parliament, that Swift had deprived him of twelve hundred pounds a year.

Swift was popular a while by another mode of * This account is contradicted by Mr. Sheridan, who beneficence. He set aside some hundreds to be with great warinth asseris. froin his own knowledge, ihal lent in small sums to the poor, from five shil- from the beginning 10 the end.

of truth in this whole account

See "Life of Swin,'' .ings, I think, to five pounds. He took no in- I edit. 1784, p. 532 –R.

his eye.

ther renovated by discourse nor increased by nefactor ; for they reverenced him as a guardian reading, wore gradually away, and left his mind and obeyed him as a dictator. vacant to the vexations of the hour, till at last In his works he has given very different specihis anger was heightened into madness. mens both of sentiments and expression. His

He however permitted one book to be pub- " Tale of a Tub” has little resemblance to his lished, which had been the production of for- other pieces. It exhibits a vehemence and rapidmer years; “Polite Conversation," which ar- (ity of mind, a copiousness of images and viva. peared in 1738. The “Directions for Servants” city of diction, such as he afterwards never posvas printed soon after his death. These two sessed or never exerted. It is of a mode so disperformances show a mind incessantly attentive, tinct and peculiar that it must be considered by and, when it was not employed upon great itself; what is true of that, is not true of any things, busy with minute occurrences. It is thing else which he has written. apparent that he must have had the habit of In his other works is found an equable tenor noting whatever he observed; for such a num- of easy language, which rather trickles than her of particulars could never have been assem- flows. His delight was in simplicity. That he hled by the power of recollection.

has in his works no metaphor, as has been said, He grew more violent, and his mental powers is not true ; but his few metapbors seem to be declined, till (1741) it was found necessary that received rather by necessity than choice. He legal guardians should be appointed of his per studied purity; and though perhaps all his stric. son and fortune. He now lost distinction. His tures are not exact, yet it is not often that sole. madness was compounded of rage and fatuity. cisms can be found; and whoever depends on The last face that he knew was that of Mrs. his authority may generally conclude himself Whiteway; and her he ceased to know in a safe. His sentences are never too much dilated little time. His meat was brought him cut into or contracted; and it will not be easy to find mouthfuls; but he would nerer touch it while any embarrassment in the complication of his the servant stayed, and at last, after it had stood clauses, any inconsequence in his connexions, or perhaps an hour, would eat it walking; for he abruptness in his transitions. continued his old habit, and was on his feet ten His style was well suited to his thoughts, hours a dar.

which are never subtilized by nice disquisitions, Next year (1742) he had an inflammation in decorated by sparkling conceits, elevated by amhis left eye, which swelled it to the size of an bitious sentences, or variegated by far-sought egg, withi biles in other parts: he was kept learning. He pays no court to the passions; he long waking with the pain, and was not easily excites neither surprise nor admiration; he al. restrained by fire attendants froni tearing out ways understands himself, and his reader always

understands him ; the peruser of Swift wants The tumour at last subsided, and a short in- little previous knowledge; it will be sufficient terval of reason ensuing, in which he knew his that he is acquainted with common words and physician and his family, gave hopes of his reco- common things; he is neither required to mount very; but in a few days be sunk into a lethargic elevations, nor to explore profundities; his pas. stupidity, motionless, heedless, and speechless. sage is always on a level, along solid ground, But it is said, that, atier a year of total silence, without asperities, without obstruction. when his housekeeper, on the 30th of November, This easy and safe conveyance of meaning it told him that the usual bontires and illumina- was Swift's desire to attain, and for having attions were preparing to celebrate his birth day, tained he deserves praise. For purposes merely he answered “It is all folly; they had better let didactic, when something is to be told that was it alone."

not known before, it is the best mode; but It is remembered, that he alterwards spoke against that inattention by which known truths now and then, or gave sone intimation of a are suffered to lie neglected it makes no provimeaning ; but at last sunk into perfect silence, sion; it instructs, but does not persuade, which continued till ahout the end of October, By his political education he was associated 1744, when, in his seventy-eighth year, he ex- with the whigs; but he deserted them when they pired without a struggle.

deserted their principles, yet without running When Swift is considered as an author, it is into the contrary extreme; he continued throughinst to estimate his powers by their effi cts. In out his life to retain the disposition which he the reign of Queen Anne he turned the stream of assigns to the “Church-of-England Man," of popularity against the whigs, and must be con- thinking commonly with the whigs of the state fessed to have dictated for a time the political and with the tories of the church. opinions of the English nation. In the succeed- He was a churchman rationally zealous; he ing reign he delivered Ireland from plunder and desired the prosperity, and maintained the hooppression; and showed that wit, confederated nour, of the clergy; of the dissenters he did not with truth, had such force as authority was un- wish to infringe the toleration, but he opposed able to resist. He said truly of himself, that their encroachments. Ireland “was his debtor.” It was from the time To his duty as dean he was very attentive when he first began to patronize the Irish that He managed the revenues of his church with they may date their riches and prosperity. He exact economy; and it is said by Delany, that taught them first to know their own interest, more money was, under his direction, laid out their weight, and their strength, and gave them in repairs, than had ever been in the same time spirit to assert that equality with their fellow- since its first erection. Of his choir he was emisubjects, to which they have ever since been nently careful; and, though he neither loyed nor making vigorous advances, and to claim those understood music, took care that all the singers rights which they have at last established. Nor were well qualified, admitting nono without the can thev be charged with ingratitude to their be- testimony of skilful judges.


In his church he restored the practice of nerosity, it should be remembered that he was weekly communion, and distributed the sacra- never rich. The revenue of his deanery was not mental elements in the most solemn and devout much more than seven hundred a year." manner witii his own hand. He came to church His beneficence was pot graced with tenderevery morning, preached commonly in his turn, ness or civility; he relieved without pity, and and attended the evening anthem, that it might assisted without kindness; so that those who not be negligently performed.

were fed by him could hardly love him. He read the service “ rather with a strong, He made a rule to himself to give but one nervous voice, than in a graceful manner; his piece at a time, and therefore always stored his voice was sharp and high-toned, rather than pocket with coins of different value. harmonious."

Whatever he did, he seemed willing to do in He entered upon the clerical state with hope a manner peculiar to himself, without sufficiently to excel in preaching ; but complained, that from considering that singularity, as it implies a conthe time of his political controversies, “ he could tempt of the general practice, is a kind of defionly preach pamphlets." This censure of him- ance which justly, provokes the hostility of sell, if judgment be made from those sermons ridicule; he, therefore, who indulges peculiar which have been printed, was unreasonably habits is worse than others, if he be not better.

Of his humour, a story told by Pope* may The suspicions of his irreligion proceeded in afford a specimen. a great measure fro.a his dread of hypocrisy; .“ Dr. Swift has an odd blunt way, that is misinstead of wishing to seem better, he delighted taken by strangers for ill-nature. Tis so odd, in seeming worse than he was. He went in that there is no describing it but by facts. I'll London to early prayers, lest he should be seen tell you one that first comes into my head. One at church : he read prayers to his servants every evening, Gay and I went to see him: you know morning with such dexterous secrecy, that Dr. how intimately we were all acquainted. On our Delany was six months in his house before he coming in, Heydey, gentlemen, (says the Docknew it. He was not only careful to hide the tor,' what's the meaning of this visit? How good which he did, but willingly incurred the came you to leave the great lords that you are so suspicion of evil which he did not. He forgot fond of, to come hither to see a poor Dean ?'— what himself had formerly asserted, that hypo-Because we would rather see you than any of crisy is less mischievous than open impiety. Dr. them.—Ay, any one that did not know so well Delany, with all his zeal for his honour, has as I do might believe you. But since you are justly condemned this part of his character. come, I must get some supper for you, I sup

The person of Swift had not many recommen- pose. —No, Doctor, we have supped already. dations. He had a kind of muddy complexion, Supped already! that's impossible ! why 'tis which, though he washed himself with oriental not eight o'clock yet. That's very strange; but scrupulosity, did not look clear. He had a if you had not supped, I must have got something countenance sour and severe, which he seldom for you.—Let me see, what should I have had ? softened by any appearance of gayety. He A couple of lobsters; ay, that would have done stubbornly resisted any tendency to laughter. very well; two shillings--tarts, a shilling; but

To his domestics he was naturally rough; and you will drink a glass of wine with me, though a man of rigorous temper, with that vigilance of you supped so much before your usual time only minute attention which his works discover, must to spare my pocket ??—No, we had rather have been a master that few could bear. That talk with you than drink with you.'—But if you he was disposed to do his servants good on im- had supped with me, as in all reason you ought portant occasions, is no great mitigation ; bene- to have done, you must then have drank with faction can be but rare, and tyrannic peevishness me.-A bottle of wine, two shillings-two and is perpetual. He did not spare the servants of two is four, and one is five; just two and sixothers. Once when he dined alone with the pence a-piece. There, Pope, there's balf-aEarl of Orrery, he said of one that waited in the crown for you, and there's another for you, Sir; room, “That man has, since we sat at table, for I won't save any thing by you I am detercommitted fifteen faults." What the faults mined.'—This was all said and done with bis were, Lord Orrery, from whom I heard the story, usual seriousness on such occasions; and in spite had not been attentive enough to discover. My of every thing we could say to the contrary, he number may perhaps not be exact.

actually obliged us to take the money." In his economy he practised a peculiar and In the intercourse of familiar life, he indulged offensive parsimony, without disguise or apology. his disposition to petulance and sarcasia, and The practice of saving being once necessary, be thought himself injured if the licentioue ness of came habitual, and grew first ridiculous, and his raillery, the freedom of his censures, or the at last detestable. But his avarice, though it petulance of his frolics, was resented or remight exclude pleasure, was never suffered to pressed. He predominated over his companions encroach upon his virtue. He was frugal by in- with very high ascendency, and probably would clination, but liberal by principle; and if the bear none over whom he could not predominate. purpose to which he destined his little accumu- To give him advice, was, in the style of his lations be remembered, with his distribution of friend Delany, “to venture to speak to him.” occasional charity, it will perhaps appear, that This customary superiority soon grew too deli he only liked one mode of expense better than cate for truth; and Swift, with all his penetraanother, and saved merely that he might have tion, allowed himself to be delighted with low something to give. He did not grow rich by in- flattery. juring his successors, but left both Laracor and On all common occasions, he habitually affects The deanery more valuable than he found them. --- With all this talk of his covetousness and ge


the profound, he reckons Broome among “the sand elegant. His rhymes are sometimes un parrots who repeat another's words in such a suitable; in his “Melancholy,” he makes breath hoarse odd tone as makes them seem their own." rhyme to birth in one place, and to earth in I have been told that they were afterwards re- another. Those faults occur but seldom; and conciled; but I am afraid their peace was with he had such power of words and numbers as out friendship

fitted him for translation; but in his original He afterwards published a Miscellany of works, recollection seems to have been his busiPoems, which is inserted, with corrections, in ness more than invention. His imitations are the late compilation.

so apparent, that it is a part of his reader's emHe never rose to a very high dignity in the ployment to recall the verses of some former church. He was some time rector of Sturston poet. Sometimes he copies the most popular in Suffolk, where he married a wealthy widow; writers, for he seems scarcely to endeavour at and afterwards, when the king visited Cam- concealment; and sometimes he picks up fragbridge (1728) became doctor of laws. He was ments in obscure corners. His lines to Fenton, (in August 1728) presented by the crown to the Serene, the sting of pain thy thoughts beguile, rectory of Pulham in Norfolk, which he held And make aflictions objects of a smile, with Oakley Magna in Suffolk, given him by brought to my mind some lines on the death the Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was chaplain, of Queen Mary, written by Barnes, of whom who added the vicarage of Eye in Suffolk; he I should not have expected to find an imitator : then resigned Pulham, and retained the other iwo. But thou, o Muse! whose sweet nepenthean tongue

Towards the close of his life he grew again can charm the pangs of death with deathless song, poetical, and amused himself with translating Make pains and tortures objects of a smile.

Canst stinging plagues with easy thoughts beguile, Odes of Anacreon, which he published in the “Gentleman's Magazine” under the name of less. What he takes he seldom makes worse ;

To detect his imitations were tedious and use Chester. He died at Bath, November 16,1745, and was whom Pope chose for an associate, and whose

and he cannot be justly thought a mean man buried in the Abbey Church. Of Broome, though it cannot be said that he as so important, that he was attacked by Henley

co-operation was considered by Pope's enemies was a great poet, it would be unjust to deny with this ludicrous distich: that he was an excellent versifier; his lines are

Pope came off clean with Homer ; but they say smooth and sonorous, and his diction is select Broome went before, and kindly swept tho waj.


ALEXANDER Pope was born in London,* May perhaps ended with his childhood. His voice, 22, 1688, of parents whose rank or station was when he was young, was so pleasing, that he never ascertained; we are informed that they was called in fondness “the little Nightingale." were of “gentle blood;" that his father was of Being not sent early to school, he was taught a family of which the Earl of Downe was the to read by an aunt; and when he was seven or head; and that his mother was the daughter of eight years old became a lover of books. He William Turner, Esquire, of York, who had first learned to write by imitating printed books; likewise three sons, one of whom had the ho- a species of penmanship in which he retained nour of being killed, and the other of dying in great excellence through his whole life, though the service of Charles the First ; the third was his ordinary hand was not elegant. made a general officer in Spain, from whom the When he was about eight, he was placed in sister inherited what sequestrations and for- Hampshire, under Taverner, a Romish priest, feitures had left in the family.

who, by a method very rarely practised, taught This, and this only, is told by Pope, who is him the Greek and Latin rudiments together. more willing, as I have heard observed, to show He was now first regularly initiated in poetry what his father was not, than what he was. by the perusal of Ogilby's Homer and It is allowed that he grew rich by trade ; but "Sandys. Ovid.” Ogilby's assistance he never whether in a shop or on the exchange, was ne-repaid with any praise; but of Sandys, he dever discovered till Mr. Tyres told, on the au-clared, in his notes to the “Iliad,” that English thority of Mrs. Racket, ihat he was a linen- poetry owed much of its beauty to his transladraper in the Strand. Both parents were iion.' Sandys very rarely atiempted original papists.

composition Pope was from his birth of a constitution From the care of Taverner, under whom his lender and delicate; but is said to have shown proficiency was considerable, he was removed remarkable gentleness and sweetness of disposi-io a school at Twyford, near Winchester, and tion. The weakness of his body continued through his life ;t but the mildness of his mind stays, as I have been assured by a waterman at Twick.

enham, who, in lifting him into his boat, bad often fels

them. His method of taking the air on the water was to according to Dr. Warton.-C. | This weakness was so great, that he constantly wore glasses down. It

have a sedan chair in il-bout, in which he sat with the

* In Lombard-stre

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