law, and had much weight in the opinions of the people; he was of opinion, that when the grievances fuffered under a prefent government, became greater than those which might probably be expected from changing it by violence, a revolution was justifiable, and this he believed to have been the cafe in that which was brought about by the prince of Orange. He had a mortal antipathy against standing armies, in times of peace, and was of opinion that our liberty could never be placed upon a firm foundation till the antient law fhould be revived, by which our parliaments were made annual; he abominated the political scheme of fetting up a monied intereft in oppofition to the landed, and was an enemy to temporary fufpenfions of the habeas corpus act. If fome afperities that cannot be justified have escaped his pen in papers, which were haftily written in the firft ardour of his zeal, and often after great provocation from those who wrote against him, furely they may without the exertion of angelic benevolence be forgiven.

That he was not at any time a bigot to party, and that he did not indifcriminately transfer his refentments from principles to perfons, was fo evident by his conduct that it was a ufual fubject of raillery towards him, among the minifters, that he never came to them without a whig in his fleeve: and though he does not appear to have afked any thing for himfelf, yet he often preffed lord Oxford in favour of Mr. Addifon, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Row, and Mr. Steel, with whom, except Mr. Steel, he frequently converfed, during all lord Oxford's miniftry, chufing his friends by their perfonal merit, without examining how far their notions agreed with the politics then in vogue; and, in particular, his friendfhip with Mr. Addifon continued inviolable, and with as much kindness as when they used to meet at lord Halifax's or lord

Lett. to Pope of

Jan. 10. 1721.

Sommers's,

Sommers's, who were leaders of the oppofite party. Among other perfons with whom he was intimately acquainted during this gay part of his life, was Mrs. Vanbomrigh. She was a lady of good D.S. 258. family, the daughter of Mr. Stone, the commiffioner, and niece to the accomptant-general of Ireland.

She was the widow of Mr. Bartholomew Vanbomrigh, first a merchant of Amfterdam, and afterwards of Dublin, who was appointed commiffary of the ftores by king William, upon his expedition into Ireland, a place which, during the war was computed to be worth 6000l. per ann. After the affairs of Ireland were fettled, he was appointed mufter-maftergeneral, and a commiffioner of the revenue, and laid out about 12,000 l. in the purchase of forfeited eftates but though he received the produce of this eftate, and enjoyed his appointments thirteen years, yet when he died, in 1703, his expences had been fo nearly equal to his revenue, that his whole fortune, the value of his eftate included, amounted only to 16,000l. This fum he directed, by his will, to be divided equally between his wife and four children, of which two were fons and two were daughters. The fons died foon after their father, and their fhare of his fortune fell to the daughters.

D.S. 260. and fol

lowing. Orrery 71,

and following.

In 1709, the widow and the two young ladies came to England, where they were vifited by perfons of the first quality, and Swift lodging within a few doors of their houfe in Bury-fireet, St. James's, ufed to be much there, coming and going without ceremony, as if he had been one of the family. During this familiarity, he became infenfibly a kind of preceptor to the young ladies, particularly the eldeft, who was then about twenty years old, was much addicted to reading, and a great admirer of admirer of poetry. a perfon of this difpofition, it was natural for fuch a cha.

In

a character as that of Swift to excite admiration, â passion which by frequent converfe was foftened into complacency, and complacency was at length im proved into love. Love itself, perhaps, was in this cafe complicated with vanity, which would have been highly gratified by an alliance with the firft wit of the age; and thus what neither could have effected alone, was done by the joint effort of both, and she ventured to make the doctor a propofal of marriage. It is probable, that his connexions with Mrs. Johnfon at this time were fuch, that he could not with honour accept this propofal, whatever pleasure or advantage it might promife; however, it is certain, he declined it, though without affigning any other engagement as the reafon.

He appears firft to have affected to believe her in jeft, then to have rallied her on fo whimsical a choice, and at last to have put her off without an absolute refufal, perhaps, partly, because he was unwilling to give her pain, and partly, because he could not refuse her with a good grace, otherwife than by discovering fome particulars which he was willing to conceal. While he was in this fituation, he wrote the poem called Cadenus and Vanessa, the principal view of which feems to have been at once to compliment and to rally her, to apologize for his conduct, and foften a tacit denial, by leaving the event undetermined.

This poem appears to have been written about the year 1713, a fhort time before he left Vanessa and the reft of his friends in England, and returned to the place of his exile, which he always mentioned with regret.

In the year 1714, Mrs. Vanbomrigh died, and having lived at an expence much greater than her for tune would bear, fhe left fome debts unpaid.

Her two daughters, whofe fortunes fhe had also leffened, the appointed joint executrixes of her will, an office which however troublesome the fituation of

their affairs obliged them to accept; it appears too, that they had contracted fome debts in their own right, which it was not in their power immediately to pay, and therefore to avoid an arreft they followed the dean into Ireland..

D.S. 178,

183.

Upon his arrival to take poffeffion of his deanery, and his return after the queen's death, he was received, according to the account of lord Orrery and Mr. Deane Swift, with every poffible mark of contempt and indignation, efpecially by the populace, who not only reviled and curfed him, but pelted him with ftones and dirt as he passed along the streets. The author of the obfervations, J. R. 87. on the contrary, affirms, that he was received

by all ranks of men, not only with kindness, but honour, the tories being then in full power, as well in Ireland as in England, and Swift's fervice to the church and credit at court being well known. This indeed was true, when he went to take poffeffion; but when he returned to his deanery, the power of the tories and the dean's credit at court were at an end; cir-' cumstances which might well cause the rabble at least to forget his fervices to the church; it is certain that great clamour was then raised by the new men against the late ministry with whom Swift had been closely connected; they were charged with a defign to bring in the pretender, and the fame design was confequently imputed to Swift, whom it was therefore confidered by fome as a qualification for preferment to revile and oppose: which party the mob took, whofe fault it. has never been to coincide implicitly with a court, pofterity must judge for themselves; but it seems, probable that thefe accounts however contradictory may both be true, and that Swift at this time might be the Sacheverel of Ireland, followed by the mob of one faction with execrations, and by the other with houts of applause.

VOL. I.

D

It is however agreed that the archbishop of Dublin and fome of his old friends in the chapter fet themfelves against his measures with all their force, and laboured to disappoint him in the exercise of his power by every art of oppofition and delay. But whatever prejudice they had conceived against him was foon removed, by the difinterested integrity of his conduct, which was so apparent and ftriking, that they foon regarded him with refpect and veneration, and almost implicitly acquiefced in whatever he proposed.

This removal from England to Ireland was the great event which determined the colour of his life, bounded his views, and fhewed him at once what he might poffefs, and for what he might hope.

There is a time when every man is struck with a sense of his mortality, and feels the force of a truth to which he has confented merely from custom without confidering its certainty, or importance. This time feldom happens in the chearful fimplicity of infancy, or in the first impatience of youth, when the world is all before us,' when every object has the force of novelty, and every defire of pleasure receives auxiliar ftrength from curiofity; but after the first heat of the race, when we ftop to recover from our fatigue, we naturally confider the ground before us, and then perceive that at the end of the course are clouds and darknefs; that the grave will foon intercept our pursuit of temporal felicity, and that, if we cannot stretch to the goal that is beyond it, we run in vain, and spend our strength for nought. Great dif appointments which change our general plan, and make it neceffary to enter the world as it were a fecond time, feldom fail to alarm us with the brevity of life, and reprefs our alacrity by precluding our hopes.

The dean whether by the vigour and activity of his imagination, the multitude of his ideas, or the ardour of his purfuits, efcaped the force of this thought,