ticular in Swift's character: but it is difficult to determine whether it was more a virtue than a vice; for it brought upon him the charge of irreligion, and encouraged others to be irreligious. In proportion as he abhorred hypocrify, he dreaded the imputation of it, and therefore concealed his piety with as much diligence as others conceal thofe vices which custom has not made reputable. His conftant attendance at church, when he was at the deanery, he knew would be confidered as the duty of his ftation; but whatever had the appearance of voluntary devotion, he always took care to hide. When he went to church in London, it was early in the morning; fo that, though he was conftantly at prayers, and at the facrament, yet he appeared to neglect both, as he was at home when others were at church. And when he went to prayers in his family, the fervants affembled at the appointed hour as it were by stealth, without any notice from a bell, or any other call, except the ftriking of the clock; fo that Dr. Delany was fix months in his family before he suspected him of this unfashionable practice. The fame principle upon which he thus ftudiously avoided appearances of good, made him frequently incur appearances of evil, especially when an opportunity offered of indulging his peculiar vein of humour, and gratifying his natural difpofition. One inftance of this has already been given, in his folemn addrefs to his clerk from the pulpit by the name of Roger [above, p. li.]; but there are others which are lefs excufable. Soon after he was made Dean of St. Patrick's, he had dined one Sunday with Dr. Raymond, vicar of Trim, a little town near Dublin. When the bell had rung, the people were affembled to evening-prayers; and Dr. Raymond was preparing to go to the church, which was not diftant more than two hundred yards: "Raymond," faid the Dean, "I will lay 66 you a crown that I begin prayers before you this af

ternoon:" Dr. Raymond accepted the wager; and immediately both run as fast as they could towards the church. Raymond, who was much nimbler than Swift, arrived first at the door; and when he entered the church, walked decently towards the reading-desk. Swift never flackened his pace, but, running up the isle,

left

left Dr. Raymond behind him in the middle of it, and ftepping into the defk, without putting on a furplice, or opening the prayer-book, began the fervice in an audible voice, and thus won his wager. [0. let. 16.]

It has been common among pretenders to wit, to af fect great contempt for every kind of regularity; to live, or pretend to live, in a state of continual diffipation, without regard to the return of thofe feafons which have been generally allotted to particular purpofes, without fleeping or waking, or eating or drinking, like the rest of mankind. To recover thefe unhappy wretches from a condition fo deplorable as to fupprefs indignation, and yet fo contemptible as fcarce to excite pity, it is here recorded, that the life of Swift was in the highest degree uniform and regular; his hours of walking and reading, of exercise and amusement, never varied; and that he might keep the revolution of his employments with greater exactnefs, his watch was almoft conftantly either in his hand, or on the table before him.

As his abhorrence of hypocrify exempted him from affectation, the natural equity of his mind fecured him against envy. Envy feems to be a defire of equality, gratified by degrading others; as emulation is a defire of equality, gratified by advancing ourfelves. It does not appear that Swift, upon a fuppofition that he had no fuperior, was without emulation; but by his ready assistance to advance the réputation and circumftances of others, he appears to have been free from envy.

He cultivated genius where-ever he found it, and in whatever degree, with great zeal and affiduity, and would chearfully fpend much time in correcting and improving any literary compofition that had the leaft appearance of ingenuity. Nor was this kindness confined to those whofe parts could never come in competition with his own. He started many hints to Mr. Gay, which he pursued with great fuccefs; and he recommended Congreve, Addifon, Parnel, and many others, to those whofe favour was most likely to render them confpicuous.

Among his fingularities, were his refolution never to wear fpectacles; and his obftinate perfeverance in the use

of

of too much exercife. His want of fpectacles made it difficult to read, and his immoderate exercise wafted his flesh, and produced a poornefs in his blood, as he was often told by his friends and phyficians, Dr. Helfham and Dr. Grattan, and as afterwards appeared by experiment; for when he was reduced to a state of idiotifm, and ceased from walking, he recovered his flesh in a short time.

He was cleanly even to superstition; his nails were always pared to the quick, to prevent the least gathering of dirt under them; and he never dressed without a bason of water by him, with which he carefully cleansed his feet. In his perfon he was robust and masculine, his deportment was commanding, and his walk erect.

His

voice was sharp and high-toned, efpecially when he read prayers, but not effeminate; and there was a natural feverity in his afpect, which even his fmiles could fcarce soften, nor his utmost gaiety relax. [0. let. 9.]

His manner was without ceremony, but not ruftic; for he had a perfect knowledge of all the modes and variations of politeness and complaifance, which he practifed in a manner peculiar to himself; and the respect that was due to him by these rules, he took care to exact without the leaft abatement. [D. S. p. 360, 65.].

It will readily be admitted, that every man has fome appetite, affection, or difpofition, which either in kind or in degree is irregular, and which it is the province of reafon to order and restrain. As it will always happen, that in fome inftances paffion will predominate, and reafon in others, it follows, that there must be fome diffimilitude in every character; from which Swift's could not therefore be exempt: but, upon the whole, it will be found uncommonly steady and uniform; though fome, to screen their own scattered and inconfiftent reprefentations of it from cenfure, have pretended that it was capricious, various, and contradictory.

Swift appears to have been naturally temperate and chafte, it was therefore eafy for him to be frugal; but he was alfo naturally high-fpirited: and therefore, as wealth is the pledge of independence, it is not itrange his frugality fhould verge towards excefs. However, as he acted upon principles, not only of general virtue,

VOL. I.

but

1

but of the nobleft moral fyftem of Chriftianity, he did not deliver himself up to natural propenfities, when they were contrary to his duty; and therefore his love of money did not contract his charity to the poor, or defraud his fucceffors to enrich himfelf. The fame fpirit which fecured his integrity, by difdaining the meanness of a lie, produced that dread of hypocrify which concealed his piety, and betrayed him into appearances of evil: and the fame want of natural tenderness, which made him appear obdurate and auftere, transferred the diftribution of his liberality from inftinct to religion, and made that, which in others is an exercise of felf-love, in him an act of obedience to God.

Such was Dr. Jonathan Swift, whofe writings either ftimulate mankind to fuftain their dignity as rational and moral beings, by fhewing how low they ftand in merc animal nature; or fright them from indecency, by holding up its picture before them in its native deformity and whofe life, with all the advantages of gemius and learning, was a fcale of infelicity gradually afcending, till pain and anguish destroyed the faculties by which they were felt: while he was viewed at a distance with envy, he became a burden to himself; he was forfaken by his friends, and his memory has been loaded with unmerited reproach: his life therefore does not afford less instruction than his writings, fince to the wife at may teach humility, and to the fimple content.

Some particulars in Dr. SWIFT'S CHARAC TER, extracted from Lord ORRERY'S Remarks, and Mr. SWIFT's Effay.

From LORD ORRER Y.

him. His friendship was an honour to me; and, to fay the truth, I have even drawn advantage from his errors. I have beheld him in all humours and difpofitions; and I have formed various fpeculations from the feveral weakneffes to which I obfe ved him liable. His capacity and ftrength of mind were undoubtedly equal

to

to any task whatever. His pride, his fpirit, or his ambition, call it by what name you please, was boundless: but his views were checked in his younger years, and the anxiety of that difappointment had a visible effect upon all his actions. He was four and severe, but not abfolutely ill-natured. He was fociable only to particular friends, and to them only at particular hours. He knew politenefs more than he practifed it. He was a mixture of avarice and generofity: the former was frequently prevalent; the latter seldom appeared, unless excited by compaffion. He was open to adulation; and could not, or would not, diftinguish between low flattery, and just applaufe. His abilities rendered him fuperior to envy. He was undisguised, and perfectly fincere. I am induced to think, that he entered into orders, more from fome private and fixed refolution, than from abfolute choice. Be that as it may, he performed the duties of the church with great punctuality, and a decent degree of devotion. He read prayers rather in a strong nervous voice, than in a graceful manner; and although he has been often accused of irreligion, nothing of that kind appeared in his converfation or behaviour. His caft of mind induced him to think and fpeak more of politics than of religion. His perpetual views were directed towards power; and his chief aim was to be removed into Eng land but when he found himself entirely disappointed, he turned his thoughts to oppofition, and became the patron of Ireland.

Few characters have afforded fo great a variety of faults and beauties. Few men have been more known and admired, or more envied and cenfured, than Dr. Swift. From the gifts of nature he had great powers, and from the imperfection of humanity he had many failings. I always confidered him as an abstract and brief chronicle of the times; no man being better acquainted with human nature, both in the highest and in the lowelt fcenes of life. His friends and correfpondents were the greatest and most eminent men of the age. The fages of antiquity were often the companions of his closet and although he industriously avoided an oftentation of learning, and generally chofe to draw his materials from his own ftore; yet his knowledge in

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