a whole year, in this state of helpless idiot. ism, his house-keeper went into his room on the 30th of November in the morning, and told him, it was his birth-day, and that bonfires and illuminations were preparing to celebrate it as usual : to which he immediately replied, “ It is all folly, they had better

" (6 let it alone." Some other instances of fhore intervals of sensibility and reason, after his. madness ended in ftupor, seem to prove, that: his disorder, whatever it was, had not deftroyed, but only suspended the powers of

, his mind. In-1744, he now and then called his fervant by name, and once attempting to speak to him, but not being able to exa press his meaning he shewed ligns of much uneasiness; and at last said, “ I am a fool." Once afterwards, as his fervant was taking away his watch, he said, “ bring it here:** and when the fame fervant was breaking a large hard coal, he faid, “That is a stone; “ you blockhead." From this time he was perfectly. silent, till the latter end of October 1745, and then died, without the leaft pang , or convulsion, in the 78th year of his age.

His character was very singular, and has been atqempted by several writers, .the subu stance of which is as follows. In his person, he was large, robust, and masculine, his deportment was commanding, and his walk ereet. His voice was sharp and high toned, especially when he read prayers; but not ef

feminate;

C.3

feminate; and there was a natural severity in his aspect, which even his smiles could scarce foften, nor could his utmost gaiety relax. He was cleanly even to superstition; his nails were always paired 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 cleanfed his feet. Among his singularities, were his resolution never to wear spectacles, and his: obstate perseverance in the use of too much exercise. 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 so constantly held in his hand, or placed before him on the table, that he fel. dom deviated many minutes in the daily revolutions of his exercises and employments.. His manner was without ceremony, but not. rustic; for he had a perfect knowledge of all the modes and variations of politeness and complaisance, wbich he practised in 4 manner peculiar to himself; and the respect that was due to him by these rules, he took care to exact, without the least abatement. He had seen the great world, and profited much by his experience. His capacity and strength of mind were undeniably equal to any task whatsoever. His pride, his fpirit, or his ambition, call it by what name you please, was boundless; but his views were checked in his

younger

1

younger years, and the anxiety of that disappointment had a visible effect upon all his ac. tions. He was four and severe, but not ab solutely ill-natured. He was fociable only to

: particular friends, and to them only at partis cular hours. In company his rule was never to speak more than a minute at a time, and then to wait at least as long for others to take up the conversation. His colloquial ftile, like that of his writing, was clear, forcible, and concise. He greatly excelled in punning, a. talent, he said, which no man affected to des spise, but those which were without it. But his converfation abounded with turns of wit of a higher kind. The Dean also greatly excelled in telling a story, his sentences wereshort and perspicuous,. his observations, pier:: cing; and though in the latter part of his life he was very apt to tell his stories too often; yer his wit, as well as his virtues, was always superior to the wretched expedients of those despicable babblers, who are pepe+ tually attempting to put off double entendre and profaneness for wit and humour. His conversation was in the highest degree chafte, and wholly free from the least tincture of irreligion. As he was zealous" to preterve all thie delicacies of conversation, he was always best pleased, when some of the company were ladies. He had not the least tincture of vanity in his conversation; he was used to say, he was too proud to be vain. He generally

spoke

.

fpoke as he thought, in all companies, and at all times. If the conversation turned upon serious subjects, he was neither petulant in the debate, nor negligent of the issue. He would liften with great attention to the arguments of others, and whether he was en. gaged or not in the argument, he would re-, capitulate what had been said, state the queftion with great clearness and precision, point out the controverted particular, and appeal to the opinion, either of some neutral person, or of the majority. It is however true, that · he kept his friends in fome degree of awe; and was therefore rather an entertaining, than a desireable guest. He was open to adu. lation, and could not, or would not diftin. guish between low flattery and just applause: Yet he was not less open to admonition, if it was offered without arrogance, and by pero fons of whose ability and honesty. he had no doubt. Such was Swift as a companion; as a master, he was not less remarkable. As he expected punctual, ready, and implicit obedience, he always tried his servants when he hired them, by some test of their humility. Among other questions, he always asked whether they understood cleaning shoes, “ because,” said he,“ my kitchen-wench

: " has a scullion that does her drudgery, and

one part of the business of my groom " and footman, is constantly to clean her “ Thoes by tuins ;" if they scrupled this,

the.

the treaty was at an end; if not, he gave them a further hearing. He appeared to be churlish and auftere to his domestics in gencral; but in reality was a good master. As a meniber of civil society, he was, a zealous advocate for liberry, the detector of fraud, and the scourge of oppression. In politics he was neither Whig nor Tory, Jacobite nce Republican; he was Dr. Swift. As an ecclesiastic, he was fcrupulously exact, in the exercise of his function, as well with regard to spiritual as temporal things. He was extremely exact and confcientious in promoting the members of his choir according to their merit, and never advanced any person to a vicarage, who was not qualified in all respects in the highest degree. He could never be induced to take fines for any of the chapter. lands. He always chose to raise the rents, as the method least oppreffive to the present teĐant, and most advantageous to all future tepants and landlords , he constantly refused. to give charity out of the chapter-fundsg. which he alleged were scarce fufficient to maintain the necessary repairs of the cathedral, and he expended more money to fupport and adorn it, than had been applied to the same use in any period of equal length. since it was first built. He was a faithful guardian of the rights of his deanry, and even determined to assert his right of absence: against the Archbilhop of Dublin, at the ex