Next year, he returned to England; and, when the news of the King's death arrived, he attended at court, and kiffed the hands of the new King and Queen three days after their acceffion.

By the Queen, when she was Princess, he had been treated with fome diftinction, and was well received by her on her exaltation; but whether she gave hopes which the never took care to fatisfy, or he formed expectations which fhe never meant, the event was, that he always afterwards thought on her with refentment, and particularly charged her with breaking her promife of fome medals which the engaged to fend him.

He had likewife gained the kindness of Mrs. Howard, the Queen's favourite, with whom he kept up a correspondence; and was favourably noticed, at that time, by Walpole; to whom, it is faid, he offered the fervice of his pen, which was rejected. The story originated with Chesterfield, or rather it can be traced no farther, and feems without fufficient foundation.

His last short vifit to his friends revived the defire which he had of fettling in England; and this, he hoped, might be accomplished, by an exchange of his preferments for fomething like an equivalent in England; but he foon found that all expectations of an exchange were at an end.

It was generally fuppofed, on the acceflion of the late King, that the Tories would be no longer profcribed as formerly; more flattering profpects were opened to him than any he could have in view during the late reign. "We have now done with repining," he writes his friend Dr. Sheridan, " if we be used well and not baited as formerly; we all agree in it; and if things do not mend, it is not our faults; we have made our offers; if otherwise, we are as we werc."

But he was foon obliged to alter his measures; for, being seized with a fit of giddiness, and at the fame time, receiving alarming accounts from Ireland, that Mifs Johnson had relapfed, with little hopes of her recovery, he took leave of the Queen, in a polite letter to Mrs. Howard, and fet out for that kingdom on the firft, abatement of his illness.

On his arrival in Dublin, he found Mifs Johnfon in the laft ftage of a decay. He had the mifery of attending her in that state, and of daily feeing the gradual advances of death during four or five months. As fhe found her diffolution approach, a few days before it happened, in the prefence of Dr. Sheridan, the adjured Swift by their friendship, to let her have the fatisfaction of dying at least, though he had not lived his acknowledged wife. He made no reply, but, turning on his heel, walked filently out of the room, nor ever saw her afterwards during the few days the lived. His behaviour threw Mifs Johnson into unspeakable agonies, and, for a time, she funk under the weight of fo cruel a difappointment. But foon after, roufed by indignation, fhe inveighed against his cruelty in the bitterest terms; and, fending for a lawyer, made her will, bequeathing her fortune, in her own name, to charitable ufes. This fcene feems to bear more hard on his humanity than other part of his conduct in life. She died, January 28. 1728, in the 44th year of her age. How much he wished her life his papers fhow; nor can it be doubted that he dreaded the death of her whom he loved most, aggravated by the confcioufncfs that himself had haftened it.

any

Swift's unjustifiable treatment of Mifs Johnson and Miss Vanhomrigh have been attributed, by Dr. Delany and Mr. Berkeley, " to that love of fingularity which, in a greater or lefs degree, is infeparable from genius." This may be reasonably doubted. His connection with Mifs Waryng was probably the immediate caufe of his myfterious conduct towards Mifs Johnfon; and Mifs Vanhomrigh, for a time, had power to captivate him, and make Mifs Johnson experience that mortification which the herself had occafioned to Mifs Waryng. His conduct towards Mifs Johnson and Mifs Vanhomrigh is examined very minutely by Mr. Sheridan; and though not positively juftified, yet fo anxious is he to place it in the most favourable point of view, that he appears more like a vindicator than an apologift. But the partialities of friendship cannot overcome the power of truth; and it would be more for the credit of Swift, if that part of his conduct which refpected Mifs Vanhomrigh, not as aggravated by his enemies, but as related by Mr. Sheridan himself, were configned to oblivion. It will not admit of a defence: it fcarcely merits an apology.

After the death of Miss Johnson, his benevolence was contracted, and his severity exafperated; he drove his acquaintance from his table, and wondered why he was deferted. In this forlorn ftate, his fpirit was too great to give way to defpondence, and, deprived as he was of all his domeftic com. forts, he turned his views wholly to the good and happiness of others. He wrote, from time to time, fuch directions, admonitions, or cenfures, as the exigency of affairs, in his opinion, made proper; and nothing fell from his pen in vain. By the acknowledged fuperiority of his talents, his in

flexible integrity, and his unwearied endeavours in serving the public, he obtained such an ascendency over his countrymen, as perhaps no private citizen obtained in any age or country. He was known over the whole kingdom by the title of the Dean, given to him by way of pre-eminence, as it were by common confent; and when the Dean was mentioned, it always carried with it the idea of the first and greatest man in the kingdom.

In a variety of publications, he laid open the chief fources of the miseries of the poor infatuated eople of Ireland; at the fame time, pointing out the means by which they might be alleviated. While he pleaded their caufe with others, he conftantly difpofed of the third part of his own reveque in charities to the poor, and liberalities to the diftreffed. Soon after he was out of debt, he lent out the first sool. which he could call his own, in small fums of 51. and 10l. to diligent and neceffitous tradesmen, to be repaid weekly, at 2s. or 4 s. without intereft. This charity was at tended with the greatest benefit to numbers of the lowest class of tradesmen.

During this period, his faculties do not feem to have been at all impaired by the near approaches of old age. One of his last pieces, Verfes on the Death of Dr. Swift, is perhaps one of the best of his compofitions in that way: nor are two of his other productions, written about the fame time, intituled An Epifile to a Lady, and A Rbaffody on Poetry, inferior to any of his former pieces.

The two laft were written chiefly with a view to gratify his refentment against Walpole, to whom he attributed the ill offices done him by the Queen, who promised him fome medals, which she never fent, and affected to believe him to be the author of three forged letters, written in a very unbecoming style, to recommend a fubfcription to Mrs. Barber's poems. Walpole was exasperated to the highest degree, and threatened a prosecution; but dropped the design.

His fevere reflection on Counsellor Bettesworth, in a fhort poem on the Words, Brother Proteflants and Fellow Chriftians, in 1733. is generally known. The provocation given by Swift was certainly very great, but not fo great as the lawyer's indiscretion in his manner of refenting it.

After all, Bettesworth's great fault, and what rendered him particularly obnoxious to Swift, was, his being a zealous Whig, and an active man among the leaders of that party, at a time when party animofities ran high in Ireland, and indeed in both kingdoms.

He wrote, from time to time, various trifles in verfe or profe, and paffed much of his time with Dr. Sheridan, who greatly contributed to his amusement, by little sprightly pieces of the inferior kind of poetry which he was always writing; and yet more to his employment, by hints and materials which he was every moment throwing out.

As his years increased, his fits of giddinefs and deafnefs grew more frequent, and his deafness made converfation difficult; they grew likewife more fevere, till, in 1736, as he was writing a poem, called The Legion Club, he was feized with a fit fo painful, and fo long continued, that he never after thought it proper to attempt any work of thought or labour.

He, however, permitted one book to be publifhed, which had been the production of former years, Polite Conversation, which appeared in 1738. The Directions for Servants was printed soon after his death. Thefe two performances show a mind incessantly attentive; and, when it was not employed upon great things, bufy with minute occurrences.

His mental powers at length declined, and his irafcible paffions, which at all times he had found difficult to be kept within due bounds, now raged without controul, and made him a torment to himself, and to all who were about him.

Confcious of his fituation, he was little defirous of feeing any of his old friends and companions, and they were as little folicitous to visit him in that deplorable state. He could now no longer amuse him if with writing, and a refolution he had formed of never wearing fpectacles, to which he obftinately adhered, prevented him from reading. Without employment, without amusement of any kind, his ideas wore gradually away, and left his mind vacant to the vexations of the hour.

In 1741, he became more violent, and it was found neceffary that legal guardians should be appointed of his perfon and fortune. He now loft distinction. His madnefs was compounded of rage and fatuity. The last face he knew was that of Mrs. Whiteway, a relation, that lived with him fince the death of Mifs Johnfon; and her he ceafed to know in a little time. His meat was brought him cut into mouthfuls; but he would never touch it while the fervant staid; and at laft, after it had food perhaps an hour, would eat it walking; for he continued his old habit, and was on his feet to hours a-day.

In 1742, he had an inflammation in his left eye, which fwelled it to the fize of an egg, with boils in other parts; he was kept long waking with the pain, and was not eafily reftrained by five attendants from tearing out his eye.

The tumour at last fubfided, and a short interval of reafon enfuing, in which he knew his physi cian and family, gave hopes of his recovery; but he funk into lethargic stupidity, motionless, heedlefs, and fpeechlefs; the effect, as it was fufpected, of water in the brain.

He afterwards fpoke now and then to Mrs. Ridgeway the house-keeper, or gave some intimation of a meaning, but at last funk into a perfect filence, which continued till the 19th of October, 1745, when he expired without a struggle, in the 78th year of his age.

He was buried in the great aifle of St. Patrick's Cathedral, under a stone of black marble, on which was engraved the following epitaph, written by himself:

Hic depofitum eft corpus

JONATHAN SWIFT, S. T. P.
Hujus Ecclefiæ Cathedralis
Decani:

Ubi fæva indignatio

Ulterius cor conlacerare nequit.
Abi, viator,
Et imitare, fi poteris

Strenuum pro virili libertatis vindicem.
Obiit Anno (1745)

Menfis (Octobris) die (19)
Etatis Anno (78).

By his will, which is dated May 3. 1740, just before he ceased to be a reasonable being, he left about 1200 L in fpecific legacies, and the reft of his fortune, which amounted to about 11,000 1. to erect and endow an hospital for idiots and lunatics. His fifter, Mrs. Fenton, had disobliged him by an imprudent marriage.

His works have been printed often, and in various forms; first by Pope, in 1726, in some vo lumes of Mifcellanies; next by George Faulkener, 1765; afterwards by Dr. Hawkesworth, in 8k 4to. 1775; three additional volumes 4to. by Deane Swift, Efq.; and three more by Mr Nichols. Thefe have been reprinted in 25 vols. large 8vo, and in 27 vols. fmall 8vo. with the life of Swift by Mr. Sheridan, in 1784. A volume of Mifcellaneous Pieces, in Profe and Verfe, not inferteḍ in Mr. Sheridan's edition, was printed in 1789, and may be confidered either as an 18th volume of Mr. Sheridan's edition, or as a 26th of that of Dr. Hawkefworth and Mr. Nichols.

On the character and writings of Swift, it is the lefs neceffary for the present writer to enlarge, as they have been fo accurately illustrated by Lord Orrery, Dr. Johnfon, and Mr. Sheridan.

"His capacity and strength of mind," fays Lord Orrery, " were undoubtedly equal to any tafk 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 disappointment had a vifible effect upon all his actions. He was four and fevere, but not abfolutely illnatured. He was fociable only to particular friends, and to them only at particular hours. He knew politeness more than he practifed it. He was a mixture of avarice and generofity; the former was frequently prevalent, the latter feldom appeared unlefs excited by compaffion. He was open to adulation, and could not, or would not distinguish between flattery and just applause. 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 resolution than absolute 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 and behaviour. His caft of mind induced him to think and fpeak more of politics than religion. His perpetual views were directed towards power, and his chief aim was to be removed into England; but when he found himself entirely difappointed, he turned his thoughts to oppofition, and became the patron of Ireland:

"From the gifts of nature, he had great powers, and from the imperfection of humanity, he hąd

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 lowest scenes. His friends and correfpondents were the greatest and most eminent men of the age; and the fages of antiquity were often the companions of his closet; and although he avoided an oftentation of learning, and generally chose to draw his materials from his own store, yet his knowledge of the ancient authors evidently appears from the strength of his fentiments, and the claffic correctness of his style.

"His attendance upon the public service of the church was regular and uninterrupted; and, indeed, regularity was peculiar to him in all his actions, even in the greatest trifles. His hours of walking and reading never varied: his motions were guided by his watch, which was fo conftantly held in his hand, or placed before him upon his table, that he feldom deviated many minutes in the daily revolution of his exercises and employments.

"The Dean kept company with many of the fair fex, but they were rather his amusement than his admiration; he trified away many hours in their converfation, he filled many pages in their Fraife, and, by the powers of his head, he gained the character of a lover, without the least affistance from his heart. To this particular kind of pride, fupported by the heat of his genius, and joined by the exceffive coldness of his nature, Vanessa owed the ruin of her reputation; and from the Lame cause, Stella remained an unacknowledged wife. If you review his feveral poems to Stella, you will find them fuller of affection than defire, and more expreffive of friendship than love.

“Upon a general view of his poetry, we shall find him, as in his other performances, an uncommon, furprising, heteroclite genius, luxurious in his fancy, lively in his ideas, humorous in his defcription, and bitter, exceedingly bitter, in his fatire. The restleffness of his imagination, and the disappointment of his ambition, have both contributed to hinder him from undertaking any poetical work of length or importance. His wit was fufficient to every labour; no flight could have wearied the strength of his powers; perhaps if the extenfive views of his nature had been fully fatisfied, his airy motions had been more regular and lefs fudden; but he now appears like an eagle that is fometimes chained, and at that particular time, for want of nobler and more proper food, diverts his confinement, and appeafes his hunger, by deftroying the gnats, butterflies, and other wretched infects that unluckily happen to buz or flutter within her reach.

"The fubjects of his poems are often naufeous, and the performances beautifully difagreeable. The Ladies Dreffing-room has been univerfally condemned, as deficient in point of delicacy, even to the highest degree. The two poems, entitled The Life and genuine Character of Dr. Swift, and Verfes on the Death of Dr. Swift, &c. are poems of great wit and humour. In the last, he has fummoned the whole powers of fatire and poetry; it is a parting blow, the legacy of anger and disappointment. One of his ftricteft rules in poetry was to avoid triplets. He had the niceft ear, and is remarkably chafte and delicate in his rhymes: a bad rhyme appeared to him one of the capital fins in poetry." Mr. Sheridan produces fome ftriking inftances of Swift's tenderness of heart, his great humanity, and his univerfal benevolence, and closes his account of him with laying open one leading part of his character," which," fays he, "may ferve as a clue to the whole."

"He was perhaps the most difinterested man that ever lived. No selfish motive ever influenced any part of his conduct. He loved virtue for its own fake, and was content it fhould be its own reward. The means to arrive at rank, fortune, and fame, the three great objects of purfuit in other men, though thrown in his way, he utterly despised, satisfied with having deserved them. The fame principle operated equally on the author as on the man, as he never put his name to his works, nor had any folicitude about them after they had once made their appearance in the world. The laft act of his life fhowed how far he made this a rule of conduct, in his choice of the charity to which he bequeathed his fortune, leaving it for the support of idiots and lunatics, beings that could never know their benefactor.

"Upon the whole, when we confider his character as a man perfectly free from vice, with few frailties, and fuch exalted virtues, and as an author poffeffed of fuch uncommon talents, fuch an unexhaustible fund of wit, joined to fo clear and folid an understanding; when we behold these two characters united in one and the fame perfon, perhaps it will not be thought too bold an affe.tion to fay, that his parallel is not to be found either in the hiftory of ancient or modern times," At the end of his "Introduction," thefe blazing encomiums are collected into one strong point

"It is of moment to the general cause of religion and morality, that the greatest genius of the age was a man of the trueft piety and most exalted virtue."

The character of Swift as given by Dr. Johnson, is lefs favourable; and though it may be allowed to be, in fome inftances, uncandid and unjuft, it will by no means warrant the fevere and rancorous recrimination of Mr. Sheridan.

"When Swift is confidered as an author, it is just to estimate his powers by their effects. In the reign of Queen Anne, he turned the stream of popularity against the Whigs, and must be confeffed to have dictated for a time the political opinions of the English nation. In the fucceeding reign, he delivered Ireland from plunder and oppreffion; and showed that wit, confederated with truth, had fuch force as authority was unable to refift. He faid truly of himself, that Ireland" was his debtor." It was from the time when he first began to patronize the Irish, that they may date their riches and profperity. He taught them first to know their own intereft, their weight, and their frength, and gave them spirit to affert that equality with their fellow-fubjects to which they have ever fince been making vigorous advances, and to claim those rights which they have at last estalifhed. Nor can they be charged with ingratitude to their benefactor; for they reverenced him as a guardian, and obeyed him as a dictator.

"In his works, he has given very different specimens, both of fentiments and expreffion. His Tale of a Tub has little refemblance to his other pieces. It exhibits a vehemence and rapidity of mind, a copioufnefs of images, and vivacity of diction, fuch as he afterwards never poffeffed, or never exerted. It is of a mode fo diftinct and peculiar, that it must be confidered by itself: What is true of that, is not true of any thing elfe which he has written.

"In his other works, is found an equable tenour of eafy language, which rather trickles than flows. His delight was in fimplicity. That he has in his works no metaphor, as has been faid, is not true; but his few metaphors feem to be received rather by neceffity than choice. He studied purity; and though perhaps all his ftrictures are not exact, yet it is not often that folecifms can be found; and whoever depends on his authority may generally conclude himself fafe. His fentences are never too much dilated or contracted; and it will not be eafy to find any embarraffment in the complication of his clauses, any inconfequence in his connections, or abruptness in his tranfitions.

His style was well suited to his thoughts, which are never fubtilized by nice difquifitions, decorated by fparkling conceits, elevated by ambitious fentences, or variegated by far-fought learning. He pays no court to the paffions; he excites neither furprife nor admiration; he always understands himself, and his readers always understand him. The perufer of Swift wants little previous knowledge; it will be fufficient that he is acquainted with common words and common things; he is neither required to mount elevations, nor to explore profundities; his paffage is always on a level, along folid ground, without afperities, without obstruction.

"This easy and safe conveyance of meaning it was Swift's defire to attain, and for having obtained it he deferves praise, though perhaps not the highest praise. For purposes merely didactic, when something is to be told that was not known before, it is the best mode, but against that inattention by which known truths are fuffered to lie neglected, it makes no provision: it inftructs, but does not perfuade.

"By his political education, he was affociated with the Whigs; but he deferted them when they deferted their principles, yet without running into the contrary extreme; he continued throughout his life to retain the difpofition which he affigns to the Churcb-of-England Man, of thinking commonly with the Whigs of the ftate, and with the Tories of the church.

"He was a churchman rationally zealous; he defired the profperity, and maintained the honour of the clergy; of the diffenters he did not wish to infringe the toleration, but he opposed their encroachments.

"To his duty as Dean he was very attentive. He managed the revenues of his church with exact economy; and it is faid by Delany, that more money was, under his direction, laid out in repairs than had ever been in the fame time fince its first erection. Of his choir he was eminently careful; and, though he neither loved nor underflood mufic, took care that all the fingers were well qualified, admitting none without the testimony of skilful judges.

Ip his church he restored the practice of weekly communion, and diftributed the facramental ele