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 ufual: to which he immediately replied, "It is all folly, they had "better let it alone." Some other inftances of fhort intervals of fenfibility and reason, after his madness ended in ftupor, feem to prove, that his diforder, whatever it was, had not deftroyed, but only fufpended the powers of his mind. In 1744, he now and then called his fervant by name; and once attempting to fpeak to him, but not being able to exprefs his meaning, he fhewed figns of much uneafinefs; and at laft faid, "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 ftone, you block. "head." From this time he was perfectly fi-. lent, till the latter end of October 1745, and then died without the leaft pang or convulfion, in the 78th year of his age. His character was very fingular, and has been attempted by feveral writers, the fubftance of which is as follows. In his perfon, he was large, robust, and mafculine, his deportment was commanding, and his walk erect. His voice was fharp and high toned, especially when he read prayers, but not effeminate; and there was a natural severity in his afpect, which even his fmiles could fcarce foften, nor could his utmost gaiety re lax. He was cleanly even to fuperftition; his nails were always paired to the quick, to prevent the least gathering of dirt under them, and he never dreffed without a bafon of water by him, with which he carefully cleanfed his feet. Among his fingularities, were his refolution never to wear fpectacles, and his obftinate perfeverance in the ufe 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 fo conftantly held in his hand, or placed before him on the table, that he feldom deviated many minutes in the daily revolutions of his exercises and employments. 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 himfelf; and the respect that was due to him by these rules, he took care to exact, without the least abatement. He had feen the great world, and profited much by his experience. His capacity and ftrength 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 years, and the anxiety of that disappointment had a visible effect upon all his actions. He was four and fevere, but not abfolutely ill-natured. He was fociable only to particular friends, and to d 2 them them only at particular hours. In company his rule was never to speak more than a minute at a time, and then to wait at leaft as long for others to take up the converfation. His colloquial ftile, like that of his writing, was clear, forcible, and concise. He greatly excelled in punning, a talent, he faid, which no man affected to defpife, but thofe who were without it. But his converfation abounded with turns of wit of a higher kind. The Dean alfo greatly excelled in telling a ftory, his fentences were short and perfpicuous, his obfervations piercing; and though in the latter part of his life he was very apt to tell his stories too often, yet his wit, as well as his virtues, was always fuperior to the wretched expedients of thofe despicable babblers, who are perpetually attempting to put off double entendre and profanenefs for wit and humour. His converfation was in the highest degree chafte, and wholly free from the leaft tincture of irreligion. As he was zealous to preserve all the delicacies of conversation, he was always best pleafed, when fome of the company were la dies. He had not the least tincture of vanity in his converfation; he was used to fay, he was too proud to be vain. He generally fpoke as he thought, in all companies, and at all times. If the converfation turned upon ferious fubjects, he was neither petulant in the debate, nor negligent of the iffue. He would liften with great attention to the arguments . guments of others, and whether he was engaged or not in the argument, he would recapitulate what had been said, state the queftion with great clearness and precifion, point out the controverted particular, and appeal to the opinion either of fome neutral perfon, 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 defirable guest. He was open to adulation and could not, or would not diftinguish between low flattery and juft applaufe. Yet he was not lefs open to admonition, if it was offered without arrogance, and by perfons of whofe ability and honefty he had no doubt. Such was Swift as a companion; as a master, he was not lefs remarkable. As he expected punctual, ready, and implicit obedience, he always tried his fervants when he hired them, by fome teft of their humility. Among other questions, he always afked whether they underftood cleaning fhoes,. "because," faid he, my kitchen wench has a fcullion that does "her drudgery, and one part of the bufinefs "of my groom and footman, is conftantly to "clean her fhoes by turns;" if they fcrupled this, the treaty was at an end; if not, he gave them a further hearing. He appeared to be churlish and auftere to his domeftics in general; but in reality was a good master. As a member of civil fociety, he was a zea. lous advocate for liberty, the detector of fraud, and the fcourge of oppreffion. In polid 3 tics tics he was neither Whig nor Tory, Jacobite nor Republican; he was Dr. Swift. As an ecclefiaftic, he was fcrupulously exact, in the exercife 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 chapterlands. He always chose to raise the rents, as the method leaft oppreffive to the present tenant, and moft advantageous to all future tenants and landlords; he conftantly refused to give charity out of the chapter-funds, which he alleged were fcarce fufficient to maintain the neceffary 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 fince it was first built. He was a faithful guardian of the rights of his deanery, and even determined to affert his right of abfence against the Archbishop of Dublin, at the expence of several hundred pounds, when he did not believe he fhould ever again claim the privileges for himself; because he would not hurt his fucceffor by an injurious precedent. The poor, in the liberty of his cathedral, were better regulated than any other in the kingdom: They were all badged, and were never found beg ing out of their district. For these he built and |