Notwithstanding the extreme frugality with which he managed his slender resources, he was on one occasion left absolutely destitute, and was relieved only by the unexpected arrival of a present from a cousin, who was a merchant at Lisbon. The conduct of a young man under such circumstances often furnishes no obscure intimation of the prevailing character of his after-life. Goldsmith, when struggling with extreme poverty, at the University, lived in the most reckless enjoyment, spending what money he had with profuse generosity, disregarding as far as possible the studies of his course, and only employing his fine talents in writing streetballads, which he sold to supply his more pressing wants. Johnson, in a similar position, grew morose, and turbulent, and domineering. He defied the discipline, but availed himself fully of the intellectual advantages of, college, and astonished and delighted his tutors by the extent and the accuracy of his information.

Swift, like Johnson, was completely soured by adversity, and, like Goldsmith, he treated the academic studies with supreme contempt. He systematically violated all college rules-absenting himself from night-roll, chapel, and lectures, haunting publichouses, and in every way defying discipline. He considered mathematics, logic, and metaphysics useless, and accordingly positively refused to study them. Dr. Sheridan (who was a good mathematician) tells us that in after-life he had attained some proficiency in the first of these subjects, but the hatred and contempt he entertained for it never diminished. His ignorance of logic was so great that at his degree examination he could not even frame a syllogism, and accordingly was unable to pass the examination, and only obtained his degree by special favour'a fact

HIS LIFE AT THE UNIVERSITY.

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which is still remembered with pleasure by the undergraduates who are examined beneath his portrait. Yet, even at this time, his genius was not undeveloped or unemployed. He studied history, he wrote odes, and, above all, he composed his 'Tale of a Tub.' The first draft of this wonderful book he showed to his college friend Warren when he was only nineteen, but he afterwards amplified and revised it considerably, and its publication did not take place till 1704. He also acquired at this time those pedestrian habits which continued through life, and exercised so great an influence upon his mind. He traversed on foot a considerable portion of England and Ireland, mingling with the very lowest classes, and sleeping at the lowest public-houses. The traces of this habit may be seen on almost every page of his writings. To this period of his life we probably owe the taste for coarse, vulgar illustrations, by which his noblest works are disfigured, as well as much of that minute observation, that keen and accurate knowledge of men, which is one of their greatest charms. To the end of his life he delighted in mixing with men of the lowest classes, and no great writer ever understood better the art of adapting his style to their tastes and understandings. To the same period of his life we may trace the careful and penurious habits which in his old age developed into an intense avarice.

Upon leaving the University, the first gleam of prosperity, though at first hardly of happiness, shone upon his path. His mother was related to the wife of Sir W. Temple, and this circumstance procured for him the position of amanuensis at Moor Park, which he held for several years.

Sir W. Temple was at this time near the close of his career. He enjoyed the reputation of a considerable

statesman and of a very great diplomatist, and his character was in truth much more suited for negotiation than for the rougher forms of statesmanship. With great abilities and much kindness of heart, he was too languid, unambitious, and epicurean to attain the highest place in English politics; and his bland, patronising courtesy, his refined and somewhat fastidious taste, as well as his instinctive shrinking from turmoil, controversy, and violence, denoted a man who was more fitted to shine in a court than in a parliament. He described in one of his Essays 'coolness of temper and blood, and consequently of desires,' as 'the great principle of virtue,' and his disposition almost realised his ideal. He had, however, a considerable knowledge of men and books, and a sound and moderate judgment in politics; and his life, if it was distinguished by no splendid virtues, and characterised by a little selfishness and a little cowardice, was at least singularly pure in an age when political purity was very rare. He had surrounded himself in his old age with beautiful gardens, and objects of art and refinement; and he dallied in a feeble way with literature, writing in admirably pure, graceful, and melodious English, somewhat vapid essays on politics and gardens, on Chinese literature and the Evil of Extremes.

With a character of this kind Swift could have little sympathy. For good or for evil, intensity was always one of his leading characteristics. It was shown alike in his friendships and his enmities, in his ambitions and his regrets. Though not susceptible to the common passion of love, a liquid fire seemed coursing through his veins. That sæva indignatio' which he recorded in his epitaph, the fierce ambition, the indomitable pride, the intense hatred of wrong, which he invariably displayed, must have often made him

He was shy and

strangely at variance with his courtly patron. His position was extremely galling, for he was at first only treated as a kind of upper servant. awkward, and felt, as he afterwards confessed, keenly a word of disapprobation from Temple. His college habits doubtless gave an additional roughness to his manners; and the ill health, which had already begun to prey upon him, an additional acerbity to his temper. However, as time advanced, his position at Moor Park improved. He devoted himself most assiduously to study for several years, and thus compensated for his idleness at the University. His favourite subjects appear to have been the classics and French literature; and he read them with the energy of enthusiasm. In 1692 he took his degree of Master of Arts at Oxford, for which University he ever after entertained feelings of grateful regard. He also rose rapidly in Sir W. Temple's estimation, and hoped, through his influence, soon to obtain an independent position. He believed, however (whether justly or unjustly we need not too curiously enquire), that Temple's patronage was very languid, and he at last left Moor Park in anger, and proceeded to Ireland to be ordained. He there found, to his inexpressible dismay, that a letter of recommendation from Temple was an indispensable preliminary to ordination. For months he shrank from the humiliation of asking the letter, but at last he wrote for and received it. He was ordained, and almost immediately after he obtained a small preferment at a place called Kilroot, in the diocese of Connor. Temple, however, in the meantime, had found that Swift's presence was absolutely necessary to his enjoyment. The extreme amiability of his disposition prevented him from retaining any feelings of bitterness, and he made overtures which soon drew the young clergyman from a

retirement that was as unsuited to his happiness as to his genius. Swift returned to England, and lived with Temple till the death of the latter, which took place four years after. During this time he was treated not as a dependent, but as a friend. He was admitted into his patron's confidence; his genius was fully recognised; and the bias of his mind determined for life. Living with an old statesman of great experience, sagacious judgment, and varied knowledge, it was natural that his attention should be chiefly turned to politics. His first pamphlet-the Dissentions of the Nobles and Commons of Athens'-was published somewhat later in the Whig interest. It was extremely successful, and was generally attributed to Bishop Burnet. He had several opportunities of seeing the King, and some of the leading statesmen of the day, who visited Moor Park-of gauging their intellects, and correcting his theories by their experience.

On one occasion he was deputed by Temple to endeavour to persuade the King to consent to triennial parliaments-a mission in which he did not succeed. He also attended largely to literature. He assisted Temple in revising his works, and he defended him against the well-known assaults of Bentley. Temple had rashly committed himself to the authenticity of some spurious letters attributed to Phalaris, and had launched into a eulogium of these letters in particular, and generally of ancient as opposed to modern literature. The dispute had been warmly taken up by Boyle and Atterbury on one side, and by Bentley on the other. The scholarship of Bentley proved overwhelming, and his opponents were at last driven from the field; but Swift, avoiding judiciously all direct argumentative collision with so formidable an opponent, produced his Battle of the Books,' which

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