mend to her son to solicit the patronage of Sir William Temple, whose lady was her relation, who had been well acquainted with the family of the Swifts, and, in whose house, Thomas Swift, the cousin of our author, had already resided as a chaplain.

The application was made and succeeded; but for some time Sir William Temple's patronage seemed to be unattended either by confidence or affection. The accomplished statesman, and polite scholar, was probably, for a time, unreconciled to the irritable habits, and imperfect learning of his new inmate*. But Sir William's

* In the letter to Lady Bradshaigh, already quoted, Richardson says, "Mr Temple, nephew to Sir William Temple, and brother to Lord Palmerston, who lately died at Bath, declared to a friend of mine, that Sir William hired Swift, at his first entrance into the world, to read to him, and sometimes to be his amanuensis, at the rate of L. 20 a-year and his board, which was then high preferment to him; but that Sir William never favoured him with his conversation because of his ill-qualities, nor allowed him to sit down at table with him. Swift, your ladyship will easily see, by his writings, had bitterness, satire, moroseness, that must make him insufferable to his equals and inferiors, and unsafe for his superiors to countenance. Sir William Temple was a wise and discerning man. He could easily see through a young fellow, taken into a low office, and inclined to forget himself. Probably, too, the Dean was always unpolite, and never could be a man of breeding. Sir William Temple was one of the politest men of his time."Richardson's Correspondence, VI. 173. The outlines of this

prejudices became gradually weaker, as Swift's exquisite power of observation increased his faculties of pleasing, while his knowledge was expanded by a course of study so hard, that it engaged eight hours of every day. Such a space of time, well employed, soon rendered a man of Swift's powers an invaluable treasure to a patron like Temple, with whom he remained about two years. His studies were partially interrupted by bad health. He had contracted, from a surfeit of stone-fruit, a giddiness and coldness of stomach, which almost brought him to his grave, and the effects of which he felt during his whole lifetime.*

unfavourable statement are probably true, if restricted to the earlier part of Swift's residence at Moor-park. But we must not forget, that the enmity which subsisted between him and all the descendants of Sir William Temple, may account for Mr Temple's placing his conduct in a disreputable light.

It here becomes the indispensable duty of an editor, briefly to notice the opinion expressed by the learned Dr Beddoes, who, in the ninth essay of his work entitled Hygeia, has directly ascribed the vertigo of Swift, with all its distressing consequences, to habits of early and profligate indulgence. And he has argued upon our author's conduct towards Stella and Vanessa, as indicating the inflamed imagination, and the exhausted frame of a premature voluptuary, who still courted pleasures he was unable to enjoy. The same conclusion, Dr Beddoes is disposed to derive, from the tone of gross inde licacy, of which Swift's writings aflord too many proofs. To the hypothesis of this ingenious writer, we may oppose, first, the express declaration of Swift himself, that this distressing

At one time he was so ill that he visited Ireland, in hopes of experiencing benefit from his native air; but finding no advantage from the change, he again returned to Moorpark, and employed in his studies the intervals which his disorder afforded. It was now that he experienced marks

malady originated in the surfeit mentioned in the text, a cause which medical professors have esteemed in every respect adequate to produce such consequences. Secondly, His whole intercourse with Stella and Vanessa, indicates the very reverse of an ardent or licentious imagination; and proves, his coldness to have been constitutionally inherent, both in mind and person, and utterly distinct from that of one who retains wishes which he has lost the power to gratify. Those who choose to investigate this matter further, may compare Swift's Journal to Stella, with Pope's Letters to the Miss Blounts, in which there really exists evidence of that mixture of friendship, passion, and licentious gallantry, which the learned author of Hygeia has rashly ascribed to the correspondence between Swift and Stella. Lastly, Without raking deeper into such a subject, it may be briefly noticed, that the coarse images and descriptions with which Swift has dishonoured his pages, are of a nature directly opposite to the loose impurities by which the exhausted voluptuary feeds his imagination. The latter courts the seductive images of licentious pleasure; but Swift has indulged in pictures of a very different class, and has dwelt on physical impurities, calculated to disgust, and not to excite the fancy. We may, therefore, safely take Swift's word for the origin of his malady, as well as for his constitutional temperance. (See p. 50.) And until medical authors can clearly account for, and radically cure the diseases of their contemporary patients, they may readily be excused from assigning dishonourable causes for the disorders of the illustrious dead.

of confidence from Temple, who permited him to be present at his confidential interviews with King William, when that monarch honoured Moorpark with his visits, a distinction which Temple owed to their former intimacy in Holland, and which he received with respectful ease, and repaid by sound and constitutional advice. Nay, when Sir William's gout confined him to his chamber, the duty of attending the king devolved upon Swift; and it is recorded by all the poet's biographer's, that William offered him a troop of horse, and shewed him how to cut asparagus the Dutch way. It would be unjust to suppress the additional advantage he acquired in learning, by the royal example, to eat the same vegetable with Dutch economy, on which subject the reader will find a lively anecdote at the bottom of the page*. Other advantages of a more solid

* This characteristic story is given on the authority of the father of my friend, Mr M. Weld Hartstonge. Alderman George Faulkner of Dublin, the well-known bookseller, happening one day to dine in company with Dr Leland the historian, the conversation adverted to the illustrious Dean of St Patrick's. Faulkner, who was the Dean's printer and publisher on many occasions, mentioned, that one day being detained late at the Deanery-house, in correcting some proofsheets for the press, Swift made the worthy alderman stay to dinner. Amongst other vegetables, asparagus formed one of the dishes. The Dean helped his guest, who shortly again called apon his host to be helped a second time; when the

nature were, however, held out to his ambition; and he was led to hope that he would be provided for in the church, to which profession he was destined, as well by inclination as by so fair a prospect of preferment*. The high trust reposed in him warranted these hopes. For he was employed by Sir William Temple to lay before King William the reasons why his majesty ought to assent to the bill for triennial parliaments; and he strengthened Temple's opinion by several arguments drawn from English history. But the king persevered in his opposition, and the bill was thrown out by the influence of the crown, in the House of Commons. This was the first intercourse that Swift had with courts; and he was wont to tell his friends that it helped to cure him of vanity having probably anticipated success in his negociation, and being mortified in proportion by its unexpected failure.

Dean, pointing to the alderman's plate, "Sir, first finish what you have upon your plate." "What, Sir, eat my stalks?" "Aye, Sir! King William always eat the stalks!" "And George," rejoined the historian, (who was himself remarkably proud, and very pompous,) "What, were you blockhead enough to obey him?" "Yes, doctor, and if you had dined with Dean Swift, tete-a-tete, faith you would have been obliged to eat your stalks too!"

*He writes to his uncle, William Swift, 29th November 1692, "I am not to take orders till the king gives me a prebend." Vol. XV. p. 226.