anxious to obtain church preferment, he never attended noonday service, an omission which gave rise, and not unnaturally, to much scandal. During all this time, however, he had, with the strictest regularity, though unseen by the public, attended the morning worship. His early poverty seems to have been the root from which many of his most bitter prejudices sprung; that which we have just mentioned, as also his exaggerated dread and detestation of improvident marriages, and even his denunciations against all speculations and speculators are to be referred to this source.*

We must now bring before out readers a person who holds but too prominent a position in the record which we have to make. Esther Johnson was the daughter of a London merchant of good family, who died soon after her birth, leaving her to the care of her surviving parent, a woman of strong and elevated mind, and the favourite friend and companion of Lady Gifford, Sir William Temple's sister. This confidential intimacy led to the residence of Mrs. Johnson, and of her daughter, as part of the family, at Moorpark; where much interest was felt in the improvement and education of the orphan girl. Among her instructors Swift soon took his place, and it is scarcely wonderful, when his qualifications for the task are considered, that the young pupil was surrendered almost exclusively and absolutely to his care. The quickness of apprehension, and other powers evinced by the child (for as yet she was scarcely more) excited in the breast of her instructor a lively interest in her favour, which secured upon his part an attentive and persevering discharge of the duty which he had thus undertaken. His lessons descended so low as to the merely elementary parts of education; he even taught her to write, and the character of the manuscript of the two is said to bear in many respects, a strong resemblance. A curious volume is mentioned by Sir Walter Scott as being in his possession, it is a copy of "Milton's Paradise Lost," with explanatory notes, in the hand writing of Swift, and presented by him to Mrs. Dingley, but no

doubt intended for the use and improvement of the younger lady. Scott argues justly from the nature of the annotations, intended, as they are, to expound, not unfrequently, the most obvious allusions to historic and geographical facts, that the education of the young lady must have been at that time unusually imperfect.

The happy intercourse which had for nearly four years subsisted between Swift and his interesting pupil, was at length mournfully interrupted by the death of Sir William Temple; in his will he acknowledged his obligations to Swift by a legacy of five hundred pounds, and more flatteringly by conferring upon him the honourable privilege of editing his posthumous works; thus furnishing his faithful friend and companion with an opportunity of appearing before the public in a literary capacity, calculated at once to excite interest, and to command respect. Swift accordingly having collected and arranged the works of his illustrious patron, ushered them into the world with a dedication to William the Third, who had early known and appreciated the great qualities of the departed statesman, one of the few honest diplomatists whom the world has produced. The monarch, however, though attached to the person and venerating the wisdom and experience of Temple, to which he had, in doubt and emergency, frequently and successfully applied, was nevertheless by no means likely to interest himself in the publication of works which it is probable he had not time or inclination to read, or, perhaps, refinement enough to appreciate. Swift accompanied this dedication with a more direct appeal to the favour, or rather to the memory of the king; for William had intimated to Temple an intention of providing for his protegè in the church. This appeal was made in the form of a memorial, which he placed in the hands of the Earl of Romney, a nobleman who professed himself warmly interested in his behalf, and who had with alacrity offered to present it in person to his majesty. Swift suspected, nevertheless, that his courtly friend suppressed the document which he thus took in charge; and certain it

is, that the king never in any way distinguished Swift after the death of Temple, a neglect which was not forgiven by the haughty memorialist. He now received from Lord Berkley, one of the lords justices of Ireland, an invitation to accompany him to that country in the two-fold capacity of chaplain and private secretary, the latter of which appointments was, after his acceptance, recalled, at the suggestion of a Mr. Bushe, who thought himself better qualified to fill it. This however, was done by the noble lord with such a good grace, upon the ground of the inconsistence of the office with his clerical functions, that Swift did not conceive himself aggrieved by a measure which, considered by itself, was highly offensive.

In order completely to reconcile the disappointed ex-secretary, he gave him. a promise of preferment in the church upon the first favourable opportunity. One was speedily furnished by the vacancy of the deanery of Derry, for which Swift immediately applied. Bushe, his successor, as private secretary, had, however, suggested to his noble master, the prudence of attaching to the appointment, as a private condition, the payment of a thousand pounds; at this price he was commissioned to offer the preferment to Swift, whose laconic answer was"God confound you both for a couple of scoundrels"-a denunciation which he accompanied by an immediate departure from his lodgings in the castle, and which was speedily followed by several pungent satirical attacks. Lord Berkley, in some alarm hastened to conciliate his former adherent-an opportunity of providing for him occurred, and, with alacrity proportioned to his fears, he presented him with the union of Laracor, Agher, and Rathbeggan, a preferment producing an annual income of about £230; which afterwards, upon the addition of the prebend of Dunlaven, amounted to nearly £400 yearly.

However Lord Berkley may have suffered in Swift's opinion, Lady Berkley always continued to hold a high place in his esteem, and even at the time when he had indignantly separated himself from the court of that nobleman, he did not cease to enjoy the confidence and friendship of his family. It was upon Lady Berkley that Swift practised his memorable

literary jest, the inserting and reading aloud among "Boyle's Reflections" the famous "Meditation on a broomstick." Many others of his jeux d'esprit owe their existence to his pleasant intercourse with this family-and afterwards when the official connexion which had domesticated him with it had been long dissolved, he paid a high and merited tribute to the eminent virtues and piety of Lady Berkley, by dedicating to her his "project for the advancement of religion." Swift was now provided for; he had a moderate but by no means a scanty income, equivalent to more than £600 yearly of our present currency. The longcoveted independence was at length his own, he was now fairly afloat; but still before him lay the vast ocean, with all its currents, winds, and rocks, to divide him from the shore he so much longed to tread; but his heart was unshaken, and he had faith to walk the waters.

Swift was now to become, for the second time, tenant of an Irish country parsonage, remotely situated, and wholly without society; he did not, however, defer the moment of departure,but regardless of the allurements of the capital, at once set forth to take possession of his living; his favourite exercise was walking, and he is said to have performed the journey from Dublin on foot. On his arrival at Laracor, his manner of introducing himself to his curate, was at once alarming and characteristic. The worthy man and his family were one day surprised by the arrival of a stalwart pedestrian of lofty carriage, commanding countenance, and stern and authoritative mien, who having called for the owner of the house, announced himself abruptly as his master, and appeared to the dismay of the quiet family determined to make himself instantly dreaded and obeyed. Before five minutes had elapsed, the whole household were flying in different directions to execute the numberless and capricious orders which the stranger issued with the rude decision and command of an absolute despot, pleased with nothing, loudly finding fault with every thing, and as it seemed resolved to give as much trouble as possible. This continued for some time, until at length Swift dispelled the alarm which he had excited by suddenly resuming that affable and graceful manner, which no

one, when it pleased him, could more happily command.

This is not a solitary instanceSwift's mode of introducing himself was often startling and whimsical; having one day made a visit to an acquaintance (a Mr. Hoey) a dispute upon some literary topic ensued, when that gentleman left the room in order to procure a book which had been referred to the visitor was thus left in the presence of a very young lady, who, wholly unconscious of the celebrity of the tall churchman, had not been attending to what was going forward; the stranger stole softly behind her chair, and suddenly gave her a smart slap on the cheek, observing to the astounded girl, "You will now remember Dean Swift as long as you live"-in which, remarks Scott, he prophesied very truly.

Another anecdote told by Sheridan is worth relating; we give it in his words:"Captain Hamilton of Castle Hamilton, a plain country gentleman, but of excellent natural sense, came upon a visit at Market-hill, while the dean was staying there. Sir Arthur, upon hearing of his friend's arrival, ran out to receive him at the door, followed by Swift. The captain, who did not see the dean, as it was in the dusk of the evening, in his blunt way, upon entering the house, exclaimed,

that he was very sorry he was so unfortunate to choose that time for his visit.' Why so? Because I hear Dean Swift is with you. He is a great scholar, a wit; a plain country squire will have but a bad time of it in his company, and I dont like to be laughed at.' Swift then stepped to the captain, from behind Sir Arthur where he had stood, and said to him,

"Pray, Captain Hamilton, do you know how to say yes and no properly ?” "Yes, I think I have understanding enough for that."

"Then give me your hand; depend upon it, you and I will agree very well."

The captain told me he never passed two months so pleasantly in his life, nor had ever met with so agreeable a companion as Swift proved to be during the whole time."

As soon as he was completely settled at his glebe, Swift began to feel in the pains of separation, how necessary to him the society of his fair pupil had become; he did not, however, ac

knowledge even to himself the tenderness and depth of the interest which she had inspired; indeed in the intercourse which had hitherto subsisted between them, there was every thing that tended to conceal from him the treacherous advances of that fatal passion, for besides the nature of the situation which he occupied in relation to her, one by no means favourable to the growth of a romantic affection, the disparity of their years was considerable, Stella's age not exceeding seventeen, while his amounted to thirty-four years; he was moreover a man of the world, had seen and conversed with all orders of female society, and was in general a despiser of" the sex;" his contempt of forms and ceremony, his habits of domination, and above all the satirical moroseness which seasoned even his compliments, were, one would have thought, peculiarities, however tolerable in a friend, wholly irreconcileable with the character of a lover. Swift, therefore, suspecting neither the feelings of Stella nor his own, urged her to remove to Ireland, where, besides the society of an old and steady friend, she might, as her property consisted of ready money, secure the advantages of an increase of income, the rate of interest in Ireland then exceeding that in England. To this proposal she readily acceded, and accompanied by Mrs. Dingley, an elderly lady, also possessing a small independence, she arrived at Laracor. Stella was endowed as eminently with personal as with mental perfections; her beauty was of the first order; rather above than below the middle stature, her form was one of perfect symmetry and of perfect grace; her hair was as black as the raven; her features exquisitely regular and delicate but rather pale; her eyes dark, large, and full of fire, lending additional enchantment to a countenance which gave lively expression to every rapid and changeful succession and variety of emotion, the lightest as well as the most serious which chequered her mind. She was gifted also with delightful powers of playful conversation; and what is more uncommon with an enlarged and masculine understanding, thus uniting qualities of mind which entitled her to be the favourite companion and confidant of the greatest wit and the greatest politician of the age in which

he lived. Her temper was cheerful, her disposition gentle and docile, but relieved by a high and noble spirit; n a word, she presented a combination of attributes which happily for the peace of mankind has seldom existed.

The biographer of Swift has a melancholy task to perform; the moral of the tale which he tells is a humiliating and a mournful one, for as he ushers in, one by one, the foremost actors in the eventful drama, and tells of all the gifts, and graces, and high endowments and perfections, which, among them, were so richly and wonderfully congregated, it is but to convey the lesson, that there is no triumph which human energy can achieve, no attribute which nature can bestow, however great and beautiful, capable of removing or even of softening a single pang to which humanity is heir; nor in all the graces and attractions with which mortal dust can be clothed, nor in all the warmth and quickness of the noblest sympathies and affections, nor in all the pride and power of intellectual glory, an efficacy to save the brain from idiotcy or the heart from breaking. Whatever suspicions or surmises the arrival of Stella may have excited in the neighbourhood of Laracor, the marked and industrious caution of Swift soon put an end to them; he never conversed with her except in the presence of a third person, and then there was nothing in his language to betray other feelings than those of unalloyed friendship. This scrupulous delicacy had the desired effect, the whispers of gossip soon died into silence, and Swift was regarded in no other light than as the friend and guardian of the beautiful young Englishwoman. It is not to be supposed that so accomplished and lovely a damsel as Stella, even in the seclusion of Laracor, could long remain without admirers, and accordingly a suitor soon presented himself, in the person of Doctor William Tisdal, a clergyman and a man of considerable abilities.

Swift probably now for the first time became aware of his true position. The danger of losing the object of his affection, and the sudden appearance of a rival by no means devoid of powers of pleasing, and har

bouring no prudential scruples to defer the honourable completion of his wishes, were circumstances calculated at once to undeceive and to dismay the mind of Swift. To him, in accordance with the spirit of the times, as to her guardian, Tisdal first addressed himself, fairly stating his present provision and his future prospects. With this statement, however, Swift pretended to be, or really was, dissatisfied, on the score of insufficiency, and compelled the lover to postpone his suit until he possessed what the self-appointed guardian should consider an income adequate to the maintenance of a family. The objections of Swift upon this account were afterwards completely removed by the improvement of Tisdal's affairs; and upon that gentleman's renewing his addresses as before, Swift declared himself fully satisfied, and allowed that every reasonable objection to the accomplishment of his desires was at an end. There is too much reason to believe however that Swift exercised a sinister influence upon the mind of Stella to the prejudice of her admirer; and it is justly observed by Scott, that wherever, in the Journal to Stella," allusion is made to Tisdal, it is always with a slight or a sneer. Whether

the issue of this gentleman's courtship was owing to the ill offices of his secret antagonist, or to the pre-occupation of Stella's heart, can never now be known; but it is certain that his proposals were finally met by a decisive refusal from the young lady herself. The intimacy which had subsisted between the two rivals did not, as might have been expected, terminate with this event; a friendship, though it is probable not a very warm one, lingered between them, down to the period at which the mind of Swift totally declined; previously to which, in the year 1740, the name of Tisdal witnessed the Dean's last will. From the time of the final rejection of this suit, Stella would listen to no other; she considered herself the destined bride of Swift. She hoped on against hope, until at length, grief and disappointment wrought their slow work, and she sank, untimely, with health decayed and a broken heart, willingly into the grave.