In these maxims we can evidently trace the results of disappointment, disease, and age. Though Swift was so well acquainted with human nature from its highest to its lowest scene, still his knowledge was that of the poet rather than of the philosopher a fatal dower of the imagination, morbid in some respects, rather than derived from the process of reasoning and founded upon experience and facts. In its main character, indeed, it is the knowledge of Shakspeare, Homer, Dante, Cervantes, Fielding, and Scott, rather than of Aristotle, Locke, or of men attached to philosphy, science, taste, and virtue.

With regard to the peculiarities of his style, vigor, simplicity, and conciseness assuredly take the lead. He was the first writer who expressed his meaning without any display of subsidiary epithets or expletives of any kind, tending to weaken the impression of simple truth. In the use of synonymes he was even more sparing than Addison, and devoted his attention to illustrate the force of his ideas; and it is thus that metaphor is so seldom met with in his works. But he abounds in clear and beautiful allegory, and his images are always just and new. In political discussion, his favorite study, he was superior to any man of his time, not excepting Addison. His poems, like his masterly political allegories, are a series of general and particular satires, and were mostly written for some special occasion. Even before the complimentary lines of Pope he had taken his rank as the Rabelais of England:

"Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air,

Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy chair."

If less learned, his wit was more piercing and his satire more close and trenchant. His ideas flowed with ease and rapidity, and he used to say "when he sat down to write a letter he never leaned his head upon his elbow till he had finished it." Cum magnis vixisse appears to have been no less his favorite motto than it was that of Horace, and his letters everywhere attest his high ambition of intellectual rule, and his proud desire of dictating them to the most eminent and great. His Journal and letters are the most genuine and valuable transcripts of his mind; for in these he threw off all party trammels, and his extraordinary and often contradictory qualities shine forth without alloy. They display complete knowledge of the world, combined with innumerable traits of benevolence, fierce resentment, and an indignation at the sufferings and oppression of the people, which hurried him into misanthropy. Though lofty and commanding with his superiors in rank, towards his equals he was full of social ease, wit, and spirit; and though rough in appearance, was really and condescendingly kind to his inferiors. While economical and saving, he devoted his money to the noblest purposes; and he appears in this respect to have modelled his conduct upon his excellent observation to lord Bolingbroke, "that a wise man should have money in his head, but not in his heart;" but in his declining years he is

"that a wise man should take care how he lets money get too much into his head, for it would assuredly descend to the heart, the seat of the passions."

Swift was celebrated for his amusing anecdote as well as surpassing wit and repartee, and he had an excellent way of telling a story; always brief and pithy, as if careful not to engross the whole time and conversation of the company. Addicted to no vice, he seemed to rise superior to the meaner temptations and pleasures of the world; he was heard to declare that on no occasion was he intoxicated neither, it might be added, with wine nor power; while from women and gaming he appears to have kept himself free, from choice as well as principle.

Swift was of middle stature, inclining to tall, robust, and manly, with strongly marked and regular features. He had a high forehead, a handsome nose, and large piercing blue eyes, which retained their lustre to the last. He had an extremely agreeable and expressive countenance, which, in the words of the unfortunate Vanessa, sometimes shone with a divine compassion, at others, the most engaging vivacity, indignation, fearful passion, and striking awe. His mouth was pleasing, he had a fine regular set of teeth, a round double chin with a small dimple; his complexion, a light olive or pale brown. His voice was sharp, strong, high-toned; but he was a bad reader, especially of verses, and disliked music. His mien was erect, his head firm, and his whole deportment commanding. There was a sternness and severity in his aspect, which wit and gaiety did not entirely remove. When pleased he would smile, but never laughed aloud.

In his diet Swift was abstemious: he preferred plain dishes, generally hashed; and in drinking he seldom exceeded a pint of claret. In his person he was neat and clean even to superstition, and appeared regularly dressed in his gown every morning, to receive the visits of his most familiar friends.

No man, it is agreed by all his biographers, ever appreciated with greater tact the qualities and sincerity of his friends; and the better to assist his judgment, he formed a sort of calendar of friendship, in which he arranged them under the heads of ungrateful, indifferent, doubtful; and it is mortifying to think that he should have found reason to class so many, even among those whom he had benefitted, under the former head.

With regard to Swift's natural disposition, his love of study, his sagacious knowledge of mankind, it has been well observed by Scott that Shakspeare's description of Cassius will apply to him admirably:

'He reads much,

He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men.—

Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit,

JONATHAN SWIFT.

In his latter days Swift was an early riser, though at one period of nis life he was said to lie in bed and think of wit for the day. Of his learning it has been said that it was not that of a professed scholar. Dr. J. Wharton pointed out the errors of quantity in his Latin verse. His Latin prose is far from classical. His letter to Pope on his translation of Homer does not show any familiar acquaintance with the original; and his "Letter to Lord Oxford on the Improvement of the English Language" is almost superficial. In his controversy on Phalaris he had wit and sarcasm in abundance, but little learning, to bring to the support of his friend Temple. In the same way, his observations on the character of Brutus are very inferior to the masterly review of the character in the third volume of Gibbon's Memoirs." In Greek his knowledge is said to have enabled him to read the best authors with tolerable facility, but not more; and as regarded Latin, it did not enter into the critical niceties of the language. Our great Chaucer's flow of wit, the amenity and graces of his frank joyous spirit, were Swift's early admiration and study; he even made a selection of a number of epithets in alphabetical order, with references, and a list of the oaths used by the different characters in his stories. Like most other men of genius and active mind, he is said to have been fond of old romances, and to with close a fact that rather surprises ushave carefully studied themattention. His collection of books,' however, comprehended none of the elder dramatists, not even a copy of Shakspeare, and the modern plays of Wycherly and Rowe were presented by the authors. History was his leading pursuit, and in the decline of life he confined his attention nearly altogether to Clarendon. Like most men of genius, Swift was fond of residing in the country, though not at all susceptible to the charms of what is termed romantic, picturesque, or grand scenery. He detested field-sports and cruelty of all kinds, but delighted in planting and rural scenery, for the freedom it gave him from restraint, the open air, and exercise, of which he was excessively fond. His independent but wayward character often made him appear, to those unacquainted with him, full of contradictions. A zealous churchman, he had the highest respect for the rights of his order, though he wrote with a spirit of satire and a levity bordering upon profaneness. The object in view being good, he was not over-scrupulous with regard to the means of effecting it; and though a friend to liberty, he ranged himself on the side of the Tories. This choice, between two of the least evils, led to many impositions and forgeries on the side of his foes, who attributed to him a thousand meanesses and follies which he never said or did. Perhaps the strongest instance is to be found in the "Courtier's Creed,"

'Many of which are at this time in the hands of his descendant, Mr. Edmund Swift, conservator of the regalia in the Tower, who possesses also a portrait of the dean taken when he was in advanced years, and some other curiosities appertaining to his celebrated relative, especially the original MSS. of Swift's political treatises

which, with all its clever application, contains that air of profaneness which Swift conscientiously avoided; but it is well invented. "I believe," it runs, "in king George II., the greatest captain and the wisest monarch between heaven and earth; and in sir Robert Walpole, his only minister, our lord, who was begotten of Barret, the attorney, born of Mrs. W. of Houghton, accused of corruption, convicted, expelled, and imprisoned. He went down into Norfolk; the third year he came up again; he ascended into the administration, and sitteth at the head of the treasury, from whence he shall pay all those who shall vote as they are commanded. I believe in Horace's [his brother's] treaty, the sanctity of the bishops, the independency of the lords, the integrity of the commons, restitution from Spain, resurrection of credit, discharge of the public debts, and peace everlasting. Amen."

Swift's public spirit and extensive charities failed to protect him from the charges of parsimony and avarice, though even Johnson admitted they were never suffered to encroach upon his virtue; for though frugal by inclination, he was liberal by principle. "Wealth," he said, "is liberty, and liberty is a blessing fittest for a philosopher. Gay is a slave just by 2000l. too little, but he could not live sine dignitate; he declares it would kill him in a month to make any abatement in his liberalities." He writes also to Pope-"Your wants are so few that you need not be rich to supply them, and my wants are so many that a king's 7,000,000 of guineas would not support me."

The dean's singularities were indulged even in the most refined society, for, though a perfect master of aristocratic and court manners, he nevertheless put them aside, and assumed a frankness and bluntness which beat down all defence, and proved at first intolerably annoying. He once insisted upon lady Burlington singing for him, though she expressed repeated wishes to be excused, and not knowing her tormentor, at length burst into tears; while it is recorded that Vanessa actually struck him for his freedom of manner the first time she was in his company. Sometimes he carried his peculiarity to a ludicrous or insulting length, especially towards ladies if they showed any want of attention or respect. Dining at a house where part of the tablecloth next him happened to have a small hole, he tore it as wide as he could, so as to eat his soup through it. The reason assigned for such behavior was to mortify the lady of the house, and to teach her to pay a proper attention to housewifery. Though steady in his friendships, his aversion, as in the instances of Somers, Wharton, and Marlborough, was carried even beyond the grave, and he pursued their funeral trains with keen satirical epitaphs. He levelled sarcasms at Steele in his "Rhapsody on Poetry;" and seized upon chief-justice Whitshed like a fierce terrier upon some noxious vermin, which he tears and worries after it is killed. By a re-iterated fire of lampoons, squibs, and epitaphs, he made him odious and contemptible in the eyes of the people, considering it his

melancholy instance of the fall of human greatness. His life is a mournful and striking example of the power of disappointment totally to subvert natural cheerfulness, to take away the value of every good, and aggravate real by imaginary evil. The miseries to which human nature is subject made him often think it better never to have existed at all; and this sentiment led him to adopt as a maxim, 'Non nasi homini longe optimum est.' It was under this persuasion that he always read the third chapter of Job upon his birth-day; and whoever visited him then was sure to see that part of the bible lying open before him....

"In short, he lived an honor to the human mind, and died, as he had lived in his latter years, a sad monument of the infirmities incident to it; and a melancholy, mortifying memento to the vanity of pride of parts. His death eclipsed the gaiety of his native country, and impoverished the scanty stock of public virtue."

I. 17