whatfoever. The high opinion he entertained of Sir William's Works in this refpect, was known to me from the following circumftance. When I was an undergraduate in the College, he recommended it to me to lay aside some portion of time every day for the study of English; and when I afk'd him what authors he would advise me to read, he immediately replied, Sir William Temple; not, faid he, his latter Works, written during or after his long refidence abroad, for his ftyle became then somewhat corrupted by the introduction of newfangled foreign words and phrases, which he fell into by converfing and writing fo much in foreign languages; but fuch of his Works as were writ ten before his going Ambaffador to Nimeguen, 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 juft compliment; but I knew his deteftation of any thing that carried the appearance of flattery with it, too well, to make mention of his own Works to him.

With refpect to Politicks, it must be allowed that there was no man of that age better qualified than Sir William Temple, not only to inftruct Swift in the general fyftem of Politicks purfued in the feveral States of Europe, but likewife to lay open to him all the arcana of ftate, all the moft fecret fprings of action, with regard to public affairs, both foreign and domeftic, during his time; in which he himself had borne fo principal a part: and with regard to Patriotifm, Sir William Temple must be allowed to have been the most fhining example of that nobleft of virtues, produced in that age; as he paffed all the vigorous part of his life in the most indefatigable endeavours for the good of his country, upon the most difinterested principles;

never having received any reward, nor feeming folici tous about any, for a long feries of the most important fervices rendered to his King and Country, often at his own expence; and at last nobly declining the highest ftation to which a fubject could be raised, when offered to him, as it was at a time of life, when he found the vigour of his mind fo far abated, that he did not think himself equal to the arduous employment of first Minifter. And with respect to private virtue, there could not have been a more illuftrious example placed before the eyes of a young man, than that of an old Courtier, who during the diffolute reign of Charle II. had fingly at Court maintained his integrity, unshaken, and his morals untainted,

Under the direction of fuch a tutor, fuch a guide, under the influence of fuch an example; how happily was the most dangerous feafon of life paffed in ftudious retirement, far from the dangers and temptations of a corrupt world.

When we reflect that Swift was first brought up in the school of Adverfity, (who though fhe be a severe mistress, yet does the generally make the beft fcholars) and that he was thence removed to another Lyceum, where prefided a fage, in whom were bleaded Socratic wifdom, Stoical virtue, and Epicurean elegance; we muft allow his lot to have been moft happily caft for forming a great and diftinguished 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 utmoft by a fingular felicity of fituation, into which fortune had thrown him.

Let us now accompany Swift into the world, from entering into which he was happily detained till his thirty-first year. His mind was now ftored with va

riety of ufeful knowledge; his understanding had arri❤ ved at its utmost maturity and ftrength; his fancy was in its prime; and his heart, long filled with the noblest affections towards God, and towards man, fwelled with impatience for proper opportunities of discharging his duty to both. With fuch abilities, and fuch difpofitions, 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.

SECTION II.

From the Death of Sir WILLIAM TEMPLE to the Time of bis Introduction to Lord OXFORD.

UPON the death of Sir William' Temple, Swift immediately removed to London; where his first care was to discharge the trust reposed in him, that of publishing a correct edition of Sir William Temple's Works; which he effected as speedily as poffible, and presented them to King William, with a fhort Dedication written by himself, as publisher. He thought he could not pay a more acceptable compliment to the King, than by dedicating to him the pofthumous works of a man, for whom, from his earliest days, when Prince of Orange, he had profeffed the highest friendship and esteem; and with whom he lived, after his arrival at the Crown of England, on the most intimate footing; frequently vifiting 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 Minifter. There was another reason too, which must have made the publication of these works peculiarly acceptable to the King;

which was, that fome of the most important tranfac tions mentioned in those writings, were relative to himfelf; and many perfonal anecdotes with regard to him, were now brought to light, which could have been difclosed by no one but Sir William, and which put the character of that truly heroic Prince in a high point of view. On thefe accounts Swift thought that such a de dication was not only the politest method of reminding the King of his promife made to Sir. William Temple in his behalf, but the likelieft means of having it fpeedily carried into execution. However, as he did not find the event answer his expectation, he applied to that Monarch by memorial.

But after waiting fome 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 Juftices of Ireland, to attend him to that kingdom, in the double capacity of Chaplain, and privatę Secretary,

This total neglect of his promise, made in confequence 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 ob ferved that Swift was the most unfit man in the world to folicit a point of that fort in due form, without which nothing is to be done at Court. He thought that his fhewing himself there, or at moft the dedication of Sig William's Works, was all that was neceffary to be done on his part. And with regard to the memorial, he himself exonerated King William fo far, as to say often that he believed it never was received. into the hands of a certain Nobleman, great regard to him, and offered to prefent it to the King, and second it with all his might; but Swift had

it

For he put who profeffed

afterwards

afterwards reason to believe that he had funk it, and faid not a word of the matter.

Swift acted as Secretary to Lord Berkeley, till they arrived at Dublin; when he was fupplanted in that of fice by one Bush, who had by fome means ingratiated himself with my Lord; and reprefenting 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 fame time promifing to make him amends, by beftowing 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 refentment, in a fevere copy of verses, which placed the Governor and his new-made Secretary in a moft ridiculous point of light, and which was every where handed about to their no fmall mortification. Soon after this the rich Deanery of Derry became vacant, and as it was the Earl of Berkeley's turn to prefent to it, Swift applied to him for it upon the ftrength of his promise. Lord Berkeley faid, that Bush had been before-hand with him, and had got the promise of it for another. Upon feeing Swift's indignation rise at this, my Lord, who began to be in no fmall fear of him, said that the matter might still be fettled if he would talk with Bufh. 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 confidered as the highest infult, and done evidently with Lord Berkeley's participation, made no other answer but this; "God confound you both for a couple of scoundrels." With these words he immediately quitted the room, and turned his back on the

Castle,