upon fome occafion or other, once ventured to addrefs Dr Swift in the ftyle of Dear Swift, and call himfelf the Doctor's friend. When the Dean opened his letter, which was designed as a compliment, his indignation took inftant fire. Dear Swift! faid he; what monftrous familiarity is here! But when he found the letter-writer had called himself his friend, he was out of all patience. My friend my friend!" faid he; "pifh, pfha; my friend! But-" (faid he, recollecting himself)" he is a Lord, and fo let it pafs."

It was

Swift's fpirit was formed with a strong reluctance to fubiniffion of any kind; and particularly he paid no regard to the monitions of his friends and phyficians, who had frequently admonifhed him of his over-exercife. This was not owing to his being weary of life. from an old fettled principle, confirmed and rivetted in his mind, when he was in the height of his glory, and the meridian of his life: A principle indeed, which he maintains, or at least endeavours to maintain, with infinite wit and humour, in a letter to Mrs Johnfon, Nov. 3. 1711, who had advised him to take physic upon the fall of the leaf. "A fig," (faith he) "Madam, for your phyfic. If I grow worfe, I will; other"wife I will truft to temperance and exercise. "Your fall of a leaf! What care I when the "leaves fall? I am forry to fee them fall with all 66 my heart; but why should I take phyfic be" caufe

"caufe leaves fall off from trees? That won't "hinder them from falling. If a man falls off "a horfe, muft I take phyfic for that? This ar"guing makes you mad; but it is true right "reafon, not to be difputed."

He was not only above all tincture of envy in his compofition; but his talents were fo great, that he was totally fuperior to the emulation of all inferior wits. They, every one of them, bowed down to him as to the viceroy of Apollo.

The dæmon of malice was also a stranger to his heart: And well it might; for if at any time he was attacked with injurious treatment, he ncver fmothered his revenge, like a way-laying coward, until a fafer opportunity; but, like a brave and generous fpirit, knocked down his adverfary, directly on the spot.

The common vices and foibles of human-kind he lashed with great severity, in order to restrain their influence, and, if it were poffible, to hinder the contagion from fpreading in the community; yet still without making examples of particular perfons. But flaves to party, and traitors to the public intereft, he expofed without mercy to the derifion of the world. It may be thought, perhaps, that private animofity frequently gave an edge to his fatire. I cannot tell but in fome cafes it might. But then it should be confidered, that Dr Swift never looked upon himself in the character of a private perfon. He knew that a patriot, like an Afiatic prince, muft make himfelf dreaded.

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dreaded. If he be once foiled, his power is at an end. And, without controverfy, dominion, abfolute dominion, he had refolved to poffefs over the minds of men, efpecially over the minds of his countrymen; and accordingly he did poffefs it.

Swift was certainly a man of great ambition, though he denies it in his writings. But his ambition, ever directed by the rules of honour, was of a noble, exalted strain, worthy to be cherished in the breast of an angel.

In his private character, he was a man of fine addrefs, and perfectly well bred. He knew to a point all the modes and variations of complaifance and politenefs. And yet his manners were not framed like thofe of any other mortal; but, corrected by general obfervation, and adapted to his own peculiar turn of genius, they fhone forth, always enlivened more or lefs with fome fpirit of dominion, in a blaze of politeness, so inimitably, and fo determinately in his own, that in effect they seemed to be the refult of pure nature, uncopied from any the brighteft or the faireft original.

Swift talked a great deal in all companies, without ingroffing the converfation to himself, [above, p. 133.] In the character of a tete a tete companion, he rather excelled himself. Few that are equal to him in that refpect, perhaps none that are his fuperiors, can be found upon earth. He was by no means in the clafs with

thofe

thofe who pour down their eloquence like a torrent, driving all before it. Far from any defires of that fort, he equally loved to speak, and loved to hearken. Like Falstaff, he not only had wit himfelf, but frequently was the caufe of wit in others. However, that univerfal reverence, which was paid to his great abilities, frequently ftruck a damp on the fpirits of those who were not perfectly well acquainted with him: an effect of modefty, which however did not always happen to be conftrued to their advantage, unless in the case of very young people. For when fuch perfons were gone, if none but his intimates were prefent, he would express himself with fome degree of emotion, and cry, Such a one, I have heard, is a very great man; or, Such a one, they fay, has abundance of learning; or, Such a one, I have been told, has an excellent underftanding; but God deliver me from fuch companions !

If we confider Swift as a divine and a chriftian, we shall find him, although not so grave, yet at least as perfect, as the most famous of his contemporaries. His firft fetting out in the world, may be thought fomewhat fingular, in this profane, hypocritical, corrupted age. We are affured from his own accounts, that his ideas of religion were fo extremely delicate, that he could not but entertain fome fcruple, notwithstanding his fortune was very finall, of entering into the church merely for fupport; although it is plain,

that he had early feparated himself to the work of the miniftry. He was of a genius thoroughly well adapted for the improvement of any congregation whatever, his arguments being always clear, cogent, and fatisfactory. But furely thofe improved, extenfive abilities, which rendered him at once the delight and the admiration of the world, were never defigned by his Creator to be confined within the narrow limits of any parifh or d'ocefe.

In his private character as a man of religion, he appears to have been a great and fhining example of Chriftian faith and morals. In himfelf, he was chafte, fober, and temperate. I remember he once told me occafionally, that he never had been drunk in his life. In his general behaviour, he was open, free, difengaged, and chearful. In his dealings with the world, he was honeft and fincere. In relieving the poor and the diftreffed, he was liberal to profufion; if denying himself, and throwing upon the waters above a third part of his income, will intitle him to the character of being exceedingly generous. With regard to his faith, he was truly orthodox. Moreover, he was regular, exceedingly regular, in all his duties to God, efpecially in attending the public worship; yet ftill without any parade, or colour of oftentation. But to crown his whole character as a man of religion, and to fhew how much he detefted that fatanical vice of hypocrify, I fhall tranfcribe à paragraph from a fer

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