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And after him," added he, “ I do not know any writer in our language that I would recommend to you as a model.” I had upon this occasion a fair opportunity of paying him a just compliment; but I knew his detestation of any thing that carried the appearance of flattery with it, too well, to make mention of his own works to him.
With respect to politics, it must be allowed that there was no man of that age better qualified than Sir William Temple, not only to instruct Swift in the general system of politics pursued in the several states of Europe, but likewise to lay open to him all the arcana of state, all the most secret springs of action, with regard to public affairs, both foreign and domestic, during his time ; in which he himself had borne so principal a part: and with regard to patriotism, Sir William Temple must be allowed to have been the most shining example of that noblest of virtues produced in that age; as he passed all the vigorous parts of his life in the most indefatigable endeavours for the good of his country, upon the most disinterested principles; never having received any reward, nor seeming solicitous about any, for a long series of the most important services rendered to his king and country, often at his own expense; and at last nobly declining the highest station to which a subject could be raised, when offered to him, as it was at a time of life, when he found the vigour of his mind so far abated, that he did not think himself equal to the arduous employment of first minister. And with respect to private virtue, there could not have been a more illustrious example placed before the eyes of a young man, than that of an old courtier, who, during the dissolute reign of Charles II. had singly at court maintained his integrity unshaken, and his morals untainted.
Under the direction of such a tutor, such a guide, under the influence of such an example; how happily was
the most dangerous season of life passed in studious retirement, far from the dangers and tenptations of a cor
When we reflect that Swift was first brought up in the school of adversity, (who though she be a severe mistress, yet does she generally make the best scholars) and that he was thence removed to another Lyceum, where presided a sage, in whom were blended Socratic wisdom, stoical virtue, and Epicurean elegance; we must allow his lot to have been most happily cast for forming a great and distinguished character in life. Nor did he fail to answer the high expectation that might be raised of a young man endowed by nature with uncommon talents, which were improved to the utmost by a singular felicity of situation, into which fortune had thrown him.
Let us now accompany Swist into the world, from entering into the which he was happily detained till his thirty-first year His mind was now stored with variety of useful knowledge ; his understanding had arrived at its utmost maturity and strength; his fancy was in its prime; and his heart, long filled with the noblest affections toward God, and toward man, swelled with impatience for proper opportunities of discharging his duty to both. With such abilities, and such dispositions, behold him now entering on the great stage of the world, to perform the character allotted to him in the drama of life, that of an able, bold, and unwearied champion, in the cause of religion, liberty, and virtue.
From the Death of Sir William Temple to the Time of
his Introduction to Lord Oxford. UPON the death of Sir William Temple, Swift immediately removed to London ; where his irst care was to discharge the trust reposed m him, that of publishing a correct edition of Sir William Temple's works; which he effected as speedily as possible, and presented them to King William, with a short dedication written by him. self, as publisher.* He thought he could not pay a more acceptable compliment to the king, than by dedicating to him the posthumous works of a man, for whom, from his earliest days, when Prince of Orange, he had professed the highest friendship and esteem; and with whom he lived, after his arrival at the crown of England, on the most intimate footing; frequently visiting Sir William in his retreat, after he had found his endeavours vain to draw him out of it, by the tempting offer of making him his first minister. There was another reason too, which must have made the publication of these works peculiarly acceptable to the king; which was, that some of the most important transactions mentioned in those writings, were relative to himself; and many personal anecdotes with regard to him, were now brought to light, which could have been disclosed by no one but Sir William, and which put the character of that truly heroic prince in a high point of view. On these accounts Swift thought that such a dedication was not only the politest method of reminding the king of his promise made to Sir William Temple in his behalf, but the likeliest means of having it speedily carried into execution. Howevli, as he did not find the event answer his expectation, he applied to that monarch by memorial. * See this in the third volume of the present collection. N.
But after waiting some time, he found that his memorial had produced no better effect than his dedication. He therefore readily accepted of an offer made to him by Lord Berkeley, then appointed one of the lords justices of Ireland, to attend him to that kingdom, in the double eapacity of chaplain, and private secretary.
This total neglect of his promise, made in consequence of a last, and it may be called, a dying request, of his particular friend, seems to bear not a little hard on the character of King William. But it is to be observed that Swift was the most unfit man in the world to solicit a point of that sort in due form, without which nothing is to be done at court. He thought that his showing himself there, or at most the dedication of Sir William's works, was all that was necessary to be done on his part. And with regard to the memorial, he himself exonerated King William so far, as to say often that he believed it never was received. For he put it into the hands of a certain nobleman, who professed great regard to him, and offered to present it to the king, and second it with all his might; but Swift had afterward reason to believe that he had sunk it, and said not a word of the matter.
Swift acted as secretary to Lord Berkeley, till they arrived at Dublin ; when he was supplanted in that office by one Bush, who had by some means ingratiated himself with my lord; and representing the office of secretary as an improper one for a clergyman, he was appointed in Swift's room. Lord Berkeley making the best apology to him that he could, and at the same time promising to make him amends, by bestowing on him the first good church preferment that should fall in his gift. Swift was not a man to be treated in this manner with impunity. Accordingly, he gave free scope to his resentment, in a severe copy of verses, which placed the governor and his new-made secretary in a most ridiculous point of light,
and which was every where handed about to their no small mortification. Soon after this the rich deanery of Derry became vacant, and as it was the Earl of Berkeley's turn to present toit, Swift applied to him forit upon the strength of his promise.* Lord Berkeley said, "that Bush had been beforehand with him, and had got the pronrise of it for another.t Upon seeing Swift's indignation rise at this, my lord, who began to be in no small fear of him, said, “ that the matter might still be settled if he would talk with Bush." Swift immediately found out the secretary, who very frankly told him “that he was to get a thousand pound for it, and if he would lay down the money, he should have the preference.” To which Swift, enraged to the utmost degree, at an offer which he considered as the highest insult, and done evidently with Lord Berkeley's participation, made no other answer but this : “God
* Swift was set aside on this occasion, from the suggestion of Dr. King, then Bishop of Derry, that he was too young. “I have no objection to Mr. Swift," says the bishop. “ I know him to be a sprightly, ingenious young man ; but, instead of residing, I dare say, he will be eternally dying backward and forward to London; and therefore I entreat, that he may be provided for in some other place.” But, as if his stars had destined him a parallel revenge he lived to see the bishop of Derry afterwards set aside on account of age. That prelate had been archbishop of Dublin many years, and had been long celebrated for his wit and learning, when Dr. Lindsay died. Upon his death, archbishop King immediately laid claim to the primacy, as a preferment to which he had a right from his station in the see of Dublin, and from his acknowledged character in the church. Neither of these pretentions were prevalent: he was looked upon as too far advanced in years to be removed. The reason alleged was as inortifying as the refusal itself: but the archbishop had no opportunity of showing his resentment, except to the new primate, Dr. Boulter, whom he received at his own house, and in his dining-parlour, without rising from his chair; and to whom he made an apology, by saying in his usual strain of wit, and with his usual sneering countenance, “My lord, I am certain your grace will forgive me, because, you know I am too old to rise." See Orrery's Remarks. W. B.
+ The deanery was given to Dr. Boulter. N.