The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 1/Life of Dr. Swift, Section III


SECTION III.


From the Introduction to Mr. Harley, to the Death of the Queen.


ON his arrival in London in the month of September 1710, he found that open war was declared between the two parties, and raged with the utmost violence. There was no room for moderating schemes, and according to his own maxim, that a good citizen could not remain neutral in such a situation of affairs, Swift was to choose his party, and to declare himself accordingly. His arrival at that crisis, filled the whigs with joy, as in general they looked upon him to be of their party; but the leaders among them were not without their apprehensions, being conscious of the ill treatment he had met with at their hands. Of this, take the following account from Swift himself[1]. "All the whigs were ravished to see me, and would have laid hold on me as a twig, to save them from sinking; and the great men were all making me their clumsy apologies. It is good to see what a lamentable confession the whigs all make of my ill usage." On the other hand, the tories were exceedingly alarmed at his arrival, as they had always considered him in the light of a whig, and as the leaders of their party had not even the least personal knowledge of him; how strong their apprehensions must have been, we may judge from a passage in Swift's Journal of the following year, dated June 30, 1711, where he says, that, "Mr. Harley and Mr. secretary St. John, frequently protested, after he had become their intimate, that he was the only man in England they were afraid of." In such a disposition, therefore, it is to be supposed, that a visit from Dr. Swift to Mr. Harley, was by no means an unacceptable thing. The occasion of this visit is set forth at large, in the letters which passed between Dr. King, archbishop of Dublin, and Dr. Swift, published in his works. Upon his leaving Ireland, Swift had undertaken to solicit the affair of the first fruits, and twentieth parts, for the benefit of the clergy in Ireland, which had been long depending, and in vain attempted by two bishops sent over for that purpose by the whole body. In his first letter to the archbishop on that subject, he says, "As soon as I received the packets from your grace, I went to wait upon Mr. Harley. I had prepared him before, by another hand, where he was very intimate; and got myself represented (which I might justly do) as one extremely ill used by the last ministry, after some obligations, because I refused to go certain lengths they would have me." He afterward gives such an account of the whole transaction as might be proper to be shown. But in his Journal to Stella, he is more particular. — October 4, 1710. — "Mr. Harley received me with the greatest respect and kindness imaginable, and appointed me an hour, two or three days after, to open my business to him."


"I HAD no sooner told him my business, but he entered into it with all kindness; asked me for my powers, and read them; and read likewise the memorial I had drawn up, and put it into his pocket to show the queen: told me the measures he would take; and, in short, said every thing I could wish. Told me he must bring Mr. St. John and me acquainted; and spoke so many things of personal kindness and esteem, that I am inclined to believe what some friends had told me, that he would do every thing to bring me over. He desired me to dine with him on Tuesday; and, after four hours being with him, set me down at St. James's coffeehouse in a hackney coach.

"I must tell you a great piece of refinement in Harley. He charged me to come and see him often: I told him I was loth to trouble him, in so much business as he had, and desired I might have leave to come at his levee; which he immediately refused, and said, 'That was no place for friends.'"


"Harley tells me he has shown my memorial to the queen, and seconded it very heartily; because, said he, the queen designs to signify it to the bishops of Ireland in form, and take notice that it was done upon a memorial from you; which he said he did to make it look more respectful to me: I believe never any thing was compassed so soon: and purely done by my personal credit with Mr. Harley; who is so excessively obliging, that I know not what to make of it, unless to show the rascals of the other party, that they used a man unworthily, who had deserved better. He speaks all the kind things to me in the world."

"I stand with the new people ten times better than ever I did with the old, and forty times more caressed."


When we consider the rapidity of Mr. Harley's motions on this occasion, who was remarkable for procrastination, and the open freedom of his behaviour toward Swift, so contrary to that closeness and reserve, which were his characteristicks, we may judge of his eager desire to fix him in their party. Nor was this hard to be accomplished: Swift had long in his own mind been of their side; and he only waited for such a favourable juncture as now offered to declare himself. Mr. Harley's uncommon condescension, flattered his pride; and the obligingness of his behaviour, engaged his friendship. Accordingly, after he had inquired into their plan, and the measures which they intended to pursue, as he found them entirely consonant to his own sentiments, he embarked without hesitation in their cause, and entered into their interests with his whole heart. His approbation of their measures he expresses in the following manner in his Journal.


"The present ministry have a difficult task, and want me. According to the best judgment I have, they are pursuing the true interest of the publick, and therefore I am glad to contribute what lies in my power."

The writers on both sides had before this taken the field, and attacked each other with great acrimony. On the whig side, were Mr. Addison, bishop Burnet, sir Richard Steele, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Rowe, and many others of less note. On the part of the tories, the chief writers were, lord Bolingbroke, bishop Atterbury, and Mr. Prior. They had begun a weekly paper, called, The Examiner, which was the joint work of those three celebrated writers, and had published twelve numbers. But as soon as Swift declared himself, they thought all aid to him unnecessary, and the whole conduct of that paper was from that time put into his hands. He entered the field alone, and, with a Sampsonlike strength, scorned assistance, and despised numbers. His power of ridicule was like a flail in his hand, against which there was no fence. Though he industriously concealed his name, yet his friend Addison soon discovered him, and retired prudently from the field of battle, leaving the rest exposed to the attacks of this irresistible champion; by whom it must be allowed they were unmercifully handled, till, one after another, they were all laid low. His first paper was published on the 2d of November, 1710, No. 13 of the Examiner, which was about a month after his introduction to Mr. Harley; and he continued them without interruption till June 7, 1711, where he dropped it, closing it with No. 44, and then leaving it to be carried on by other hands. During this time he lived in the utmost degree of confidence and familiarity, not only with Mr. Harley, but the whole ministry. Mr. secretary St. John was not behind Mr. Harley, either in desire of cultivating Swift's acquaintance, or in address, which the following extract from his Journal will sufficiently show.


"I dined to day, by invitation, with the secretary of state, Mr. St. John. Mr. Harley came in to us before dinner, and made me his excuses for not dining with us, because he was to receive people who came to propose the advancing of money to the government. The secretary used me with all the kindness in the world. Prior came in after dinner; and upon an occasion, the secretary said to him, 'The best thing I ever read is not your's, but Dr. Swift on Vanbrugh;' which I do not reckon so very good neither; but Prior was damped, till I stuffed him with two or three compliments. He told me, among other things, that Mr. Harley complained he could keep nothing from me, I had the way so much of getting into him. I knew that was a refinement, and so I told him; and it was so. Indeed it is hard to see these great men use me like one who was their betters, and the puppies with you in Ireland hardly regarding me. But there are some reasons for all this, which I will tell you when we meet."


In another place, he says, March 3, 1710-11.


"I dined with Mr. Harley to day. Every Saturday, lord keeper, secretary St. John, and I, dine with him, and sometimes lord Rivers, and they let in none else. I staid with Mr. Harley till nine, when we had much discourse together, after the rest were gone, and I gave him very truly my opinion, when he desired it."

"Secretary St. John would needs have me dine with him to day; and there I found three persons I never saw, two I had no acquaintance with, and one I did not care for: so I left them early, and came home, it being no day to walk, but scurvy rain and wind. The secretary tells me he has put a cheat upon me; for lord Peterborough sent him twelve dozen flasks of Burgundy, on condition I should have my share; but he never was quiet till they were all gone, so I reckon he owes me thirty six pounds."


"I dined to day with Mr. secretary St. John, on condition I might choose my company, which were lord Rivers, lord Carteret, sir T. Mansel, and Mr. Lewis. I invited Masham, Hill, sir John Stanley, and George Granville, but they were engaged; and I did it in revenge of his having such bad company when I dined with him before. So we laughed, &c."


In the beginning of February, there was a piece of behaviour in Mr. Harley toward Swift, which nettled him to the quick, and had nearly occasioned a breach between them. Of this Swift gives the following account in his Journal.


"Mr. Harley desired me to dine with him again to day, but I refused him; for I fell out with him yesterday, and will not see him again till he makes me amends."

"I was this morning early with Mr. Lewis of the secretary's office, and saw a letter Mr. Harley had sent him, desiring to be reconciled; but I was deaf to all entreaties, and have desired Lewis to go to him, and let him know I expected farther satisfaction. If we let these great ministers pretend too much, there will be no governing them. He promises to make me easy, if I will but come and see him; but I won't, and he shall do it by message, or I will cast him off. I will tell you the cause of our quarrel when I see you, and refer it to yourselves. In that he did something, which he intended for a favour, and I have taken it quite otherwise, disliking both the thing and the manner, and it has heartily vexed me; and all I have said is truth, though it looks like jest: and I absolutely refused to submit to his intended favour, and expect farther satisfaction."


In a subsequent part of the Journal he acquaints Stella with the cause of quarrel.


"Yes, I understand a cipher, and Ppt[2] guesses right, as she always does. He gave me al bsadnnk lboinlpt dfaonr ufainfbtoy dpeonufnad[3]; which I sent him again by Mr. Lewis, to whom I wrote a very complaining letter, that was showed him, and so the matter ended. He told me he had a quarrel with me; I said I had another with him, and we returned to our friendship, and I should think he loves me as well as a great minister can love a man in so short a time."


Nothing could have been considered by Swift as a greater indignity, than this offer of Mr. Harley's, which put him on the footing of a hireling writer. Accordingly, he was determined to let him see how much he had mistaken his man, by refusing to see him again till he had asked his pardon by a third hand. He laid hold of this opportunity, to let the ministry know how he expected to be treated by them for the future: as a man, who not only scorned a state of dependance, but who could not bear any thing that might carry the least appearance of it; as one who entered a volunteer in their cause, and who scorned to lie under any obligation, or accept of any thing to which he was not justly entitled by his merits: and lastly, as one, who, conscious of his abilities to serve the publick, expected to be considered by them as their coadjutor in the cause, and to be treated on a footing of entire equality. Accordingly, immediately after Mr. Harley had made his peace with him, he showed, by an extraordinary piece of behaviour, that he was determined to exact this from them, without bating the smallest article. The circumstance is mentioned in the following passage of the Journal.


"I dined to day with Mr. secretary St. John: I went to the court of requests at noon, and sent Mr. Harley into the house to call the secretary, to let him know I would not dine with him if he dined late."


When this story is told, without any other circumstance, and we are informed that a private clergyman, vicar of a small country living, in an obscure part of the world, sent the prime minister of Great Britain, to bring out to him the first secretary of state from the senate house, where he was engaged in the important business of the nation, upon so frivolous an occasion, we should be apt to consider it was a wanton exertion of the most insolent pride. But when we reflect that this was done the very day after he was reconciled to Mr. Harley, and that he took the first opportunity of retaliating the slight put upon him a few days before, it can only give us a high opinion of his magnanimity. Besides, upon this reconciliation, he thought it necessary to give both ministers a specimen of the terms upon which alone their union could continue, the principal of which was a most perfect equality. How little Swift was willing to allow them any superiority, may be judged by an expression in his Journal the next day after this incident.


"I have taken Mr. Harley into favour again."


And it soon afterward appeared how readily these ministers came into his terms, as may be seen from the following passage.


"The ministry are good honest hearty fellows: I use them like dogs, because I expect they will use me so. They call me nothing but Jonathan, and I said I believed they would leave me Jonathan as they found me; and that I never knew a minister do any thing for those whom they make companions of their pleasures: and I believe you will find it so, but I care not."

How tenacious he was of his rights in this respect, and how ready to take the alarm upon the least appearance of their being infringed, we may judge from the following account of what passed between the secretary and him, some time after, on an occasion of that sort.


"I dined with the secretary, who seemed terribly down and melancholy; which Mr. Prior and Lewis observed as well as I: perhaps something is gone wrong; perhaps there is nothing in it."


"I called at Mr. Secretary's, to see what the D——— ailed him on Sunday: I made him a very proper speech, told him I observed he was much out of temper; that I did not expect he would tell me the cause, but would be glad to see he was in better; and one thing I warned him of, never to appear cold to me, for I would not be treated like a schoolboy; that I had felt too much of that in my life already: that I expected every great minister, who honoured me with his acquaintance, if he heard or saw any thing to my disadvantage, would let me know it in plain words, and not put me in pain to guess by the change or coldness of his countenance or behaviour; for it was what I would hardly bear from a crowned head, and I thought no subject's favour was worth it[4]; and that I designed to let my lord keeper, and Mr. Harley, know the same thing, that they might use me accordingly. He took all right; said I had reason; vowed nothing ailed him, but sitting up whole nights at business, and one night at drinking: would have had me dined with him and Mrs. Masham's brother, to make up matters; but I would not: I don't know, but I would not. But indeed I was engaged with my old friend Rollinson; you never heard of him before."

From this time we find that Swift was treated by the ministry with the most unreserved confidence in regard to publick affairs, and the most familiar intimacy in private; being always present at their most secret consultations in political matters, and a constant companion of their chosen parties to enliven their social hour.

Swift has given us the following view of the light in which he considered the situation of affairs about that time.


"This kingdom is certainly ruined, as much as was ever any bankrupt merchant. We must have a peace, let it be a bad or a good one; though nobody dares talk of it. The nearer I look upon things, the worse I like them. I believe the confederacy will soon break to pieces, and our factions at home increase. The ministry is upon a very narrow bottom, and stand like an isthmus, between the whigs on one side, and violent tories on the other. They are able seamen, but the tempest is too great, the ship too rotten, and the crew all against them. Lord Somers has been twice in the queen's closet, once very lately; and the duchess of Somerset, who now has the key, is a most insinuating woman; and I believe they will endeavour to play the same game that has been played against them. I have told them all this, which they know already; but they cannot help it. They have cautioned the queen so much against being governed, that she observes it too much. I could talk till to morrow upon these things, but they make me melancholy. I could not but observe lately, after much conversation with Mr. Harley; though he is the most fearless man alive, and the least apt to despond, he confessed to me, that, uttering his mind to me, gave him ease."

Swift was employed chiefly in writing the Examiners till the beginning of the following June; when, having with ease foiled all his opponents in this skirmishing way of fighting, he retired to prepare for the general engagement, expected at the opening of the next campaign, and which was likely to prove decisive with regard to the fate of the two parties. It is certain, that his apprehensions for the side which he had embraced, were daily increasing; and as he said himself, "the nearer he looked upon things, the worse he liked them." But his apprehensions were either confined within his own breast, or communicated only to the ministry, excepting in the Journal to Stella, where he is wholly without reserve. He had said to her, so early as January 7, 1710. — "In my opinion we have nothing to save us but a peace, and I am sure we cannot have such a one as we hoped; and then the whigs will bawl what they would have done, had they continued in power. I tell the ministry this as much as I dare, and shall venture to say a little more to them."

Afterward, he gave her an account of the danger they were in, from the more violent members of their own party.


"We are plagued with an October club, that is, a set of above a hundred parliament men of the country, who drink October beer at home, and meet every evening at a tavern near the parliament, to consult on affairs, and drive things to extremes against the whigs; to call the old ministry to account, and get off five or six heads. The ministry seem not to regard them; yet one of them in confidence told me, that there must be something thought on to settle things better. I'll tell you one great secret: the queen, sensible how much she was governed by the late ministry, runs a little into the other extreme; and is jealous in that point, even of those who got her out of the other's hands. The ministry is for gentler measures, and the other tories for more violent. Lord Rivers, talking to me the other day, cursed the paper called The Examiner, for speaking civilly of the duke of Marlborough. This I happened to talk of to the secretary, who blamed the warmth of that lord, and some others; and swore, if their advice were followed, they would be blown up in twenty-four hours. And I have reason to think, they will endeavour to prevail on the queen, to put her affairs more in the hands of a ministry, than she does at present; and there are two men thought on, one of whom you have often met the name of in my letters."

But though there were many external circumstances which rendered the situation of the ministry very precarious, yet the chief danger arose from themselves, through a want of concert and mutual confidence, so necessary to men embarked in so difficult an undertaking. This was chiefly owing to the reserve and mysterious conduct of Mr. Harley, which gave great umbrage to Mr. St. John, and had very nearly occasioned a breach between them about that time, of which Swift makes the following mention in his Journal.


"The whigs whisper that our ministry differ among themselves, and they begin to talk out the secretary. They have some reasons for their whispers; though I thought it was a greater secret. I do not much like the present posture of things; I always apprehended that any falling out would ruin them, and so I have told them several times."


Beside this reserve in the treasurer, there was a procrastination in his temper, which ill suited such a juncture of affairs, as required the utmost vigour and dispatch. And though the secretary was a man of great parts and fire, yet had he such a turn to dissipation, as made him lose opportunities, and produced as ill effects, as the procrastinating turn of the treasurer. Of this Swift complains in the following passage of his Journal.


"The deuse is in the secretary; when I went to him this morning he had people with him; but says, we are to dine with Prior to day, and then will do all our business in the afternoon: at two, Prior sends word he is otherwise engaged: then the secretary and I go and dine with brigadier Britton, sit till eight, grow merry, no business done; we part, and appoint no time to meet again. This is the fault of all the present ministers; teasing me to death for my assistance, laying the whole weight of their affairs upon it, and slipping opportunities."


On these, and many other accounts, things wore but a very unpromising aspect on the side of the tories; especially as the leaders of the whig party were active, vigilant, let slip no opportunity; and at the same time, being exasperated to the last degree at the loss of their power, were determined to stop at nothing, to compass the ruin of those who had supplanted them. Yet, however gloomy the prospect might be, Swift was not of a temper to give way to despondency. It is certain, that from the time he took a nearer view of the state of things, he had little hopes that the cause in which he had engaged would be brought to a happy issue; yet he determined, that, whenever it should fail, no part of the miscarriage should be laid at his door; and accordingly he exerted himself with the same sort of ardour, as is usually raised only by a near prospect of success, upon vigorous measures. Not content with performing every thing that was allotted to him in his own department, he let no opportunity slip of urging the ministers to do what was proper on their parts. He, with great freedom, told them of their faults or omissions, sometimes in a serious, sometimes in a jocose way, as opportunities offered. There is a little anecdote of that sort, which shows how freely he indulged himself in this vein. Swift had received a present of a curious snuffbox from colonel Hill, beautifully painted with a variety of figures, which he showed to lord Oxford; who, after having examined the workmanship, turned up the bottom of the box, where he spied a figure resembling a goose, studded on the outside of the box; upon which, turning to Swift, he said, "Jonathan, I think the colonel has made a goose of you." "Tis true, my lord," replied Swift, "but if you will look a little farther, you will see I am driving a snail before me:" which indeed happened to be the device. "That's severe enough, Jonathan," said my lord, "but I deserved it."

On another occasion, he observed to lord Bolingbroke, that men of great parts are often unfortunate in the management of publick business, because they are apt to go out of the common road, by the quickness of their imagination: and he desired his lordship to take notice, that the clerks in his office used a sort of ivory knife, with a blunt edge, to divide a sheet of paper, which never failed to cut it even, only requiring a steady hand; whereas, if they should make use of a sharp penknife, the sharpness would make it go often out of the crease, and disfigure the paper.

These friendly admonitions of Swift, though they might sometimes produce good effects in particular cases, when properly timed, yet could they do but little toward eradicating faults, which seem to have been in a great measure constitutional, and which were grown too strong by habit to be easily overcome. Happy therefore was it for the ministry, that they had, in Swift, such a faithful monitor, to remind them of their errours, and such an able coadjutor, to supply their deficiencies. As no man perhaps ever possessed a greater degree of natural sagacity than Swift, or was master of a deeper penetration from close observations made on human nature, he often warned the ministers of dangers in their own sphere, which they did not see, though they had the advantage of being much nearer the springs of action; but the acuteness of his sight more than made up for the different degrees of distance. This was sufficiently shown by the event, as all his conjectures proved to be well-founded; nor was there a single prognostick of his that failed. These he was never sparing to communicate to the ministers, though the phlegm of one, and dissipation of the other, generally rendered such notices of little effect. They were indeed so very dilatory or remiss in their preparations for the approaching contest, and their enemies so vigilant and active, that their ruin must inevitably have been accomplished soon after the meeting of the parliament, had it not been for the measures taken by Swift to prevent it. Finding that he could not rouse the minister to that activity, which so critical a juncture required, he determined to leave nothing undone, that lay in his own power, toward the support of the common cause. There were two points, which he thought of the utmost importance, and which therefore demanded the highest attention: the one was, to put an end to the cabals of the October club, which threatened the most dangerous consequences to the ministry: the other was, the making of a peace; without which, it was a maxim with him that the ministry could not stand. The first of these points he soon accomplished. He procured a meeting of some of the principal members of the club at a tavern; where he gave them such cogent reasons for the conduct of the ministry, as removed their fears and jealousies. This meeting occasioned a suspicion in many of the absent members, which was followed by a division of the club; after which, their meetings being neither so numerous nor so frequent, they gradually dwindled away; and, upon the seasonable publication of a little pamphlet, by Swift, called, "Some Advice to the Members of the October Club," they were in general so well satisfied, that their meetings were no more heard of; and these very members were afterward the staunchest friends that the ministry had in the house of commons. The affair of the peace was at a greater distance, and a point of infinitely more difficulty. Necessary as it was that it should be accomplished, in the disposition that the nation then was, the ministry did not even dare to hint it, and there was but one way in which they could attempt it, with the least degree of safety to themselves; and that was, by raising such a clamour for peace, as should make the steps taken toward it by the ministry, appear to be in consequence of the attention due to the general voice of the nation. This Swift undertook to accomplish; and with that view he took uncommon pains in drawing up that famous politital tract, called, The Conduct of the Allies; the effects of which will presently be shown.

But Swift had still a more difficult point to manage; and one, which was attended with more immediate danger than all the rest; I mean, that of keeping the ministry from quarrelling among themselves, which he foresaw must end in their total destruction[5]. The treasurer and secretary were of such different dispositions, and so little agreed about the means to be pursued toward the attainment of the common end they had in view, that it required the utmost address to prevent their coming to an open rupture; which would probably have happened, even at that critical time, had it not been for Swift's interposition. Perhaps there was no man living so well qualified for the office of a mediator between them, as Swift. The case required the constant interposition of some common friend to both, who should not be suspected of any partiality to either, or of any interested views in the advice he should give; at the same time of one, who would speak his mind with unlimited freedom to each separately, or both together, without fear of disobliging. He must therefore be a man, whose assistance was of so much moment to each, in the prosecution of their several designs, that neither would dare to break with the other unreasonably, lest his whole weight should be thrown into the opposite scale. And perhaps there was no man living, at that juncture, who could perfectly answer this description, but Swift. Accordingly we find, that for the space of more than two years afterward, though there was much ill blood, and many bickerings between them, he kept them from coming to an open rupture; and the incurable breach, which afterward ensued, was made during his absence in Ireland, when he went to take possession of his deanery.

In this critical situation of affairs, and in the midst of that load of business which was thrown upon Swift's shoulders, let us stop a while, to admire the vigour and activity of his mind, which, at such a juncture, could find leisure to throw out, as if it were a holiday task, his favourite design, of establishing the English language on some solid foundation.

In a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, dated July 12, 1711, there is this passage. "I have been engaging my lord treasurer, and the other great men, in a project of my own, which they tell me they will embrace, especially his lordship. He is to erect some kind of society, or academy, under the patronage of the ministers, and protection of the queen, for correcting, enlarging, polishing, and fixing our language. The methods must be left to the society; only I am writing a letter to my lord treasurer, by way of proposals, and some general hints, which I design to publish, and he expects from me. All this may come to nothing, although I find the ingenious and learned men of all my aquaintance fall readily in with it; and so I hope will your grace, if the design can be well executed. I would desire at leisure some of your grace's thoughts on this matter."

As the time of the parliament's meeting approached, which was to decide the fate of the parties, Swift applied himself closely to the finishing of a work, from which great matters were expected, toward inclining people to the main object of the ministry, a peace.

His first mention of it to Stella, is in his Journal, October 26, 1711. "We have no quiet with the whigs, they are so violent against a peace, but I will cool them, with a vengeance, very soon. I have written a paper, which the ministers reckon will do abundance of good, and open the eyes of the nation, who are half bewitched against a peace. Few of this generation can remember any thing but war and taxes, and they think it is as it should be; whereas it is certain, we are the most undone people in Europe, as I am afraid I shall make appear beyond all contradiction."

Upon the meeting of parliament, on the 7th of December 1711, Swift's apprehensions and prognosticks proved to be but too well founded. He saw clearly, that if the queen did not stand firm in support of the ministry, they were undone; and from a knowledge of her temper, he dreaded some change in her, from the influence which the [6] duchess of Somerset had over her; who had succeeded the duchess of Marlborough in her favour, and whose husband was avowedly bent on the destruction of the ministry. His fears proved indeed to have been too well founded. What passed on this occasion, is thus related in his Journal, December 7, 1711. "The earl of Nottingham began, and spoke against a peace, and desired, that in their address they might put in a clause, to advise the queen not to make a peace without Spain; which was debated, and carried by the whigs, by about six voices, in a committee of the whole house." The question's being then carried against the ministry, was no small surprise to them, as they did not expect it, though Swift had often warned them of it, and pointed out the means by which it would be effected. But the behaviour of the queen, upon that occasion, was such a thunderclap, as perfectly astounded them, and made them give over all as lost. This circumstance is thus related by Swift in his Journal, December 8, 1711. "When the queen was going from the house of lords, where she sate to hear the debate, on the 7th of December, 1711, the duke of Shrewsbury, lord chamberlain, asked her majesty, whether he, or the great chamberlain Lindsay, ought to lead her out; she answered short, 'Neither of you,' and gave her hand to the duke of Somerset, who was louder than any in the house against a peace." This behaviour of the queen could be construed in no other light than a desertion of the ministry, and accordingly it produced such an effect, that Swift tells us, "the clause was carried the next day, in the house of lords, almost two to one." The consequences of this, are thus described by Swift, in his History of the Peace of Utrecht. "When this address, against any peace without Spain, &c. was carried in the house of lords, it is not easy to describe the effect it had upon most men's passions. The partisans of the old ministry triumphed loudly, and without any reserve, as if the game were their own. The earl of Wharton was observed in the house to smile, and to put his hands to his neck, when any of the ministry was speaking; by which he would have it understood, that some heads were in danger. Parker, the chief justice, began already, with great zeal and officiousness, to prosecute authors and printers of weekly and other papers, and written in defence of the administration: in short, joy and vengeance sat visible in every countenance of that party.

"On the other side, all well wishers to the church, the queen, or the peace, were equally dejected; and the treasurer stood the foremost mark, both of his enemies fury, and the censure of his friends. Among the latter, some imputed this fatal miscarriage to his procrastinating nature; others, to his immeasurable publick thrift! Both parties agreed, that a first minister, with very moderate skill in affairs, might easily have governed the events; and some began to doubt, whether the great fame of his abilities, acquired in other stations, were what he justly deserved." Swift gives the following account of his first interview with the lord treasurer on this occasion, in his Journal, December 8, 1711. "Mr. Masham begged us to stay, because lord treasurer would call, and we were resolved to fall on him about his negligence in securing a majority. He came, and appeared in good humour, as usual, but I thought his countenance was much cast down. I rallied him, and desired him to give me his staff, which he did; I told him, if he would secure it me a week, I would set all right: he asked, how? I said, I would immediately turn lord Marlborough, his two daughters, the duke and duchess of Somerset, and lord Cholmondeley, out of all their employments; and I believe he had not a friend but was of my opinion. Arbuthnot asked, How he came not to secure a majority? He could answer nothing, but that he could not help it, if people would lie and forswear. A poor answer for a great minister. There fell from him a scripture expression, that the hearts of kings are unsearchable. I told him, it was what I feared, and was from him the worst news he could tell me. I begged him to know what we had to trust to: he stuck a little, but at last bid me not fear, for all would be well yet."

Swift's private sentiments on the occasion, are thus expressed in his [[Author:Jonathan Swift/Journal to Stella|Journal], December 8, 1711. "This is a long Journal, and of a day, that may produce great alterations, and hazard the ruin of England. The whigs are all in triumph. They foretold how all this would be, but we thought it boasting. Nay, they say the parliament should be dissolved before Christmas, and perhaps it may. This is all your d————d d— of S————'s doing: I warned the ministers of it nine months ago, and a hundred times since. The secretary always dreaded it. I told lord treasurer I should have the advantage of him, for he would lose his head, and I should only be hanged, and so carry my body entire to the grave."

December 15, 1711. "Here are the first steps toward the ruin of an excellent ministry, for I look upon them as certainly ruined. Some are of opinion the whole ministry will give up their places next week; others imagine, when the session is over. I do resolve, if they give up, or are turned out soon, to retire for some months, and I have pitched upon the place already; I would be out of the way, upon the first of the ferment; for they lay all things upon me, even some I have never read."

Lord Oxford now perceived the ill effects of his too great security; but, as he was a man of great firmness of mind, instead of being daunted at the dangerous situation of affairs, he applied himself vigorously to retrieve what had been lost. Swift speaks of him as a man fruitful in expedients, and says, "He never wanted a reserve upon any emergency, which would appear desperate to others:" and never did any occasion call more for the exertion of such talents. The first necessary step was to get the queen back out of the hands into which she had fallen, and then to fix her steadily in the pursuit of his measures. He had the address very soon to regain the queen's favour and confidence; and the first use he made of it was to restore the majority he had lost in the house of lords, by engaging her to create twelve new peers at once. This, it must be allowed, was a desperate step, but the desperate state of their affairs required it. Swift, in speaking of this point, says, "Yet, after all, it is a strange, unhappy necessity, of making so many peers together; but the queen has drawn it upon herself, by her trimming and moderation." This could not fail, however, of raising great clamours and jealousies in the people. "The adverse party," (says Swift in his history) "being thus driven down by open force, had nothing left but to complain, which they loudly did: that it was a pernicious example set for ill princes to follow, who, by the same rule, might make at any time a hundred as well as twelve; and by these means become masters of the house of lords, whenever they pleased, which would be dangerous to our liberties."

This unpopular measure was quickly followed by another, which raised a universal clamour both at home and abroad; and that was, the dismissing of the duke of Marlborough from all his employments. This act, whatever danger might attend it, was, to the ministry, an act of necessity; for matters were then carried to such a height, that there was no alternative, but either the duke, or the ministry, must fall. However, though it kept them in for the time, it rendered their situation exceedingly precarious. The people, alarmed at the dismissal of so great and fortunate a general, in the midst of a war, expected nothing to follow, but a shameful peace. The clamour for the continuance of the war, became louder than ever, which was helped on by the presence of prince Eugene, who had lately arrived in England, with the largest proposals from the emperor for that purpose. All the envoys from the allies bestirred themselves every where to raise a spirit for war; and the whigs, enraged to the last degree, at the total loss of their power, by the fall of their chief, left no stone unturned to rouse the people. In a short time, the nation seemed to have but one voice, which was, for the continuance of the war; and it was certain, that if the ministry could not carry a peace, it was impossible they should stand. In this critical situation of affairs it was, that Swift's talents shone forth in their highest lustre. It was at this juncture, that his celebrated political tract, called, The Conduct of the Allies, produced such marvellous effects. Never did any thing of that nature cause so sudden a change in the minds of the people. It immediately passed through seven editions, and eleven thousand of them were sold in less than a month. The members, during the recess, had full time to read and consider it well; and Swift, in his Journal, gives the following account of the effects which it produced, February 4, 1711. "The house of commons have this day made many severe votes about our being abused by our allies. Those who spoke, drew all their arguments from my book, and their votes confirm all I wrote. The court had a majority of 150. All agree, that it was my book that spirited them to these resolutions." And shortly afterward, speaking on the same subject, he says, February 8, "The resolutions, printed the other day in the votes, are almost quotations from it, and would never have passed, if that book had not been written." That Swift had taken uncommon pains about this tract, appears from another passage, where he says, "It is fit it should answer the pains I have been at about it." Thus did the doctor amply fulfil his prediction with regard to this book, in a passage before cited, where he says, "We have no quiet with the whigs, they are so violent against a peace; but I will cool them, with a vengeance, very soon." The voice of the commons was immediately backed by a great majority without doors, who were made converts by the same arguments. Thus was the ministry indebted to Swift, not only for their immediate preservation, from a destruction which seemed inevitable; but for such a solid establishment in future, as could neither be undermined nor shaken by the arts or violence of their enemies; and they had nothing to fear, but from their own dissensions among themselves. After so signal a service, it is no wonder that he grew into the deepest confidence with them, and that they ever after cherished him in their bosoms.

As the ministry were now at full liberty to pursue their political plan with security, and to take all proper measures toward bringing about a peace; Swift, whose active spirit seems to have known no rest at that juncture, and who was eager to make use of the ifluence he had obtained, toward doing some great publick good, laid hold of this opportunity to press his plan of an academy. In a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, March 29, 1712, he says, "I lately wrote a letter of about thirty pages to lord treasurer, by way of proposal for an academy, to correct, enlarge, and ascertain the English language: and he and I have named above twenty persons of both parties to be members. I will shortly print the letter, and I hope something of it. Your grace sees I am a projector too." In a subsequent one, he says, upon the same subject, "My lord treasurer has often promised he will advance my design of an academy, so have my lord keeper, and all the ministers; but they are now too busy to think of any thing beside what they have upon the anvil. My lord treasurer and I have already pitched upon twenty members of both parties; but perhaps it may all come to nothing."

And afterward, in another letter, he says, "As for any academy to correct and settle our language, lord treasurer talked of it often very warmly; but I doubt is yet too busy until the peace be over."

Swift indeed soon found, that his eagerness to accomplish a point, which he had so much at heart, had made him push it at an improper season; not only as the hands of the ministry were full, but as he himself had work enough cut out for him of another kind. A numerous body of the whig writers were continually assaulting the ministry, with the utmost violence; and they relied, for their defence, on the single arm of their doughty champion, Swift.

On the other side, the two champions, on whom the whigs most depended, were bishop Burnet and Mr. Steele, (afterward sir Richard) well known to the world as writer of the greatest number of those ingenious essays, which appeared under the titles of the Tatlers, Spectators, and Guardians. They placed great hopes in two pamphlets, published about this time; one by bishop Burnet, under the title of An Introduction to the third Volume of his History of the Reformation: the other by Mr. Steele, called, The Crisis. These two were immediately answered by Swift, with such infinite humour, wit, ridicule, and strength of argument, as not only blunted the edge of those pieces, but lowered the consequence of the authors themselves so much, by raising the laugh strongly against them, as to deprive them of the power of doing future mischief. We may judge of the effect which those two pamphlets must have produced at that critical time, when we consider with what delight they are read at this day, on account of their intrinsick merit, though we are little interested with regard to the events which gave them birth. This indeed distinguishes Swift's political tracts from all others; that these were written for a day; his, for perpetuity: they borrowed their chief merit from circumstances and times; his, from the immensity of his genius; their chief value arose from fashion, his, from weight. And he seems to have had the same advantage over his antagonists, as Homer has given to Achilles, by clothing him in celestial armour, and furnishing him with weapons of ethereal temper.

It may perhaps seem surprising, that after so many and such important services, Swift should have remained so long without preferment, or reward of any kind; and the ministry have on that account, been charged with ingratitude toward him. But they were far from being unmindful of his merits, and had recommended him to the queen to fill a vacant bishoprick. But the duchess of Somerset, who entertained an implacable hatred against him, determined to move Heaven and earth to prevent his promotion taking place. She first prevailed on the archbishop of York to oppose it, whose remarkable expression to the queen was, That her majesty should be sure that the man whom she was going to make a bishop, was a Christian. But as he could give no better colour for this surmise, than that Swift was supposed to be the author of the Tale of a Tub, the bishop was considered as acting officiously, out of too indiscreet a zeal, and his interposition was of no avail. The duchess then went in person to the queen, and, throwing herself on her knees, entreated, with tears in her eyes, that she would not give the bishoprick to Swift; at the same time presenting to her that excessively bitter copy of verses, which Swift had written against her, called, The Windsor Prophecy. The queen, upon reading them, was stung with resentment at the very severe treatment which he had given to a lady, who was known to stand highly in her favour, and as a mark of her displeasure, passed Swift by, and bestowed the bishoprick on another.

As soon as it was known that Swift was in disgrace with the queen, his enemies began to attack him from all quarters; and, as is usual in such cases, his court friends in general either deserted him, or looked coldly on him. There were several speeches made against him, both in the house of lords and commons; particularly by the earl of Nottingham in the former, and Mr. Walpole (afterward sir Robert) and Mr. Aislabie, who had before professed much friendship for him, in the latter. The Scotch lords went in a body to the queen, to complain of the author of a pamphlet, called, The public Spirit of the Whigs, in which were many passages highly injurious to the honour of their nation, and desiring that the author might be brought to condign punishment. Accordingly, a reward was offered by proclamation, of three hundred pounds, for the discovery of the author of that piece. But Swift was a man of too much courage, and knew his own strength too well, to be much alarmed at all these threatening appearances. Instead of retiring, he stood boldly on his defence. His friend lord Oxford too, and the rest of the ministry, espoused his cause so warmly, and exerted their influence so strongly in his behalf, that he soon appeared again at court in higher favour than ever.

In April 1713, soon after the conclusion of the peace, he was appointed dean of St. Patrick's in Dublin; and in the beginning of June following he set out for Ireland, in order to be installed. His intention was, to take up his residence there for some time; but the ministry, to whom his presence was become necessary, would not suffer it; and were so importunate for his return, that, after he had passed through the necessary forms, and recovered from an indisposition, which had confined him some time at his living in the country, he returned to London, though very unwillingly[7]. Upon his arrival, he found his presence necessary on two very material accounts. One was, to prevent if possible a rupture between the ministers, which was daily threatened, as they had no longer the tie of common danger to cement them, since the conclusion of the peace: the other was, to defend the articles of that peace; which were now violently attacked. In the former of these points, he succeeded for some time so far as to make them keep fair appearances toward each other, whatever ill will might be rankling in their hearts. And with regard to the latter, he applied himself to the finishing of the History of the Peace of Utrecht, in which he had made a considerable progress, before he had gone to take possession of his deanery. He was likewise particularly employed at this juncture with relation to the affairs of Ireland, where party rage had at that time broken out into several violent and dangerous acts. When he had finished the history, he put it into the hands of lord Oxford and lord Bolingbroke, in order that it might be published; and soon after returned to his deanery. But he had scarcely arrived there, when there were a [8] hundred letters sent after him to recall him with all speed, in order to use his endeavours to reconcile the ministers; who, soon after he had turned his back, had come to an open rupture. Upon this intelligence, Swift returned immediately, though he had scarce been a fortnight in Dublin. Upon his arrival, he contrived to bring lord Oxford and lord Bolingbroke together at lord Masham's, where he was left alone with them, and expostulated freely with both, but to little effect. However, they agreed to go to Windsor together the next day. Swift, hoping they might come to a more free explanation in a téte a téte, than in the presence of a third person, pretended business the next morning, and sent them together to Windsor. He followed soon after, but found his scheme had not produced the desired effect. He had one meeting more with them, and finding the breach irreconcilable, he told them he resolved to retire, saying, that, as he was a common friend to both, he would not, upon a breach, take part with either. And as he foresaw nothing from their disunion, but what would be fatal to the general interest, he was determined to have no farther concern with publick affairs. Swift on this occasion acted the part of a zealous and disinterested friend, but he found no one to second him; which he laments in several places, as he imagined, if others had done their duty a reconcilement might have been effected. In a letter to Mr. Pope, he says, "I only wish my endeavours had succeeded better, in the great point I had at heart, which was that of reconciling the ministers to each other. This might have been done, if others, who had more concern, and more influence, would have acted their parts; and if this had succeeded, the publick interest, both of church and state, would not have been the worse, nor the protestant succession endangered." But Swift was probably the only man among them, who had either the interest of the publick, or of the ministers at heart; the rest seem rather to have been wholly intent upon considering how their own private advantage might be promoted by this breach, and listed themselves under the several leaders with this view. Had Swift been a selfish man, he might certainly have made what terms he pleased; as his weight, thrown into either scale, would have been of great moment. But he was actuated upon this occasion by that high principle of honour, from which he never swerved in the whole course of his life.

By faction tir'd, with grief he waits awhile,
His great contending friends to reconcile,
Performs what friendship, justice, truth require:
What could he more, but decently retire?[9]

After his last fruitless conference with the ministers, Swift immediately retired, as he said he would, to a friend's house in Berkshire. But this retirement was not owing to a timid disposition, which might prompt him to be out of harm's way at this dangerous juncture; nor to a principle of trimming, which might induce him to lie upon the lurch till he saw which party in the ministry should gain the ascendant; no, it was from a motive consonant to the nobleness of his mind. He had already acquitted himself to the utmost in point of friendship to the ministers; and by endeavouring to unite them, had taken the shortest and surest way to serve the common cause. When this was found impracticable, he thought his duty to the publick, at so critical a conjuncture, paramount to all other considerations whatsoever; he therefore retired, in order to have leisure to lay open to the world the true causes of the violent disorders of the state, let it offend whom it would; and to point out the only remedies that could effect a cure, however unpalatable they might prove to some of his best friends. It was on this occasion that he wrote that spirited pamphlet, called, Some free Thoughts upon the present State of Affairs; in which, with great boldness, he charges the ministers as the chief causes of the reigning disorders, from their misconduct; and lays the greatest load of blame on the man whom he loved best in the world, lord Oxford. Acting in this, like a friendly and skilful surgeon, who lays open the sore to the bottom, however painful the operation may prove to the patient, when he sees no other way of preventing a gangrene. The general blame which he throws out upon the ministry, is prefaced in this manner: "It may be matter of no little admiration, to consider, in some lights, the state of affairs among us for four years past. The queen, finding herself and the majority of her kingdom grown weary of the avarice and the insolence, the mistaken politicks and destructive principles of her former ministers; calls to the service of the publick another set of men, who, by confession of their enemies, had equal abilities, at least, with their predecessors; whose interest made it necessary for them (although their inclinations had been otherwise) to act upon those maxims which were most agreeable to the constitution in church and state; whose birth and patrimonies gave them weight in the nation, and who (I speak of those who were to have the chief part in affairs) had long lived under the strictest bonds of friendship. With all these advantages, supported by a vast majority of the landed interest, and the inferiour clergy to a man, we have several times seen the present administration in the greatest distress, and very near the brink of ruin, together with the cause of the church and monarchy committed to their charge: neither does it appear to me, at the minute I am now writing, that their power or duration is upon any tolerable foot of security; which I do not so much impute to the address and industry of their enemies, as to some failures among themselves, which I think have been full as visible in their causes, as their effects."

He then proceeds to enumerate several of those failings, among which, that which is mentioned in the following paragraph is particularly levelled at lord Oxford. "I must therefore take the boldness to assert, that all these discontents, how ruinous soever they may prove in their consequences, have most unnecessarily arisen from the want of a due communication and concert. Every man must have a light sufficient for the length of the way he is appointed to go: there is a degree of confidence due to all stations; and a petty constable will neither act cheerfully, or wisely, without that share of it, which properly belongs to him: although the main spring of a watch be out of sight, there is an intermediate communication between it and the smallest wheel, or else no useful motion could be performed. This reserved, mysterious way of acting, upon points where there appeared not the least occasion for it, and toward persons, who, at least in right of their posts, expected a more open treatment, was imputed to some hidden design, which every man conjectured to be the very thing he was most afraid of.

"But the effects of this mystical manner of proceeding did not end here: for the late dissensions between the great men at court (which have been for some time past the publick entertainment of every coffeehouse) are said to have arisen from the same fountain; while, on one side, very great reserve, and certainly very great resentment on the other, have inflamed animosities to such a height, as to make all reconcilement impracticable. Supposing this to be true, it may serve for a great lesson of humiliation to mankind, to behold the habits and passions of men, otherwise highly accomplished, triumphing over interest, friendship, honour, and their own personal safety, as well as that of their country; and probably of a most gracious princess, who had entrusted it to them. A ship's crew quarrelling in a storm, or while their enemies are within gunshot, is but a faint idea of this fatal infatuation; of which, although it be hard to say enough, some people may think perhaps I have already said too much."

From the above passages, it is clear that Swift was determined not to spare the incision knife on this occasion. And from the whole drift of the pamphlet, it is highly probable, he had discovered that both lord Oxford and lord Bolingbroke, had long since lost sight of the publick interest, which had at first cemented them, and had each no other object in view, but that of gratifying his ambition. It could not escape a man of his penetration, that they were in the condition of Pompey and Cæsar; whereof the one could not bear an equal, nor the other a superiour. He resolved therefore to separate himself from them both, and try what he could do apart for the publick interest. As he found private admonition ineffectual to persuade, he determined to try whether publick shame, and the fear of the total desertion of their party, might not compel them to a discharge of their duty. He pointed out the only means which could effectually put things once more on a proper footing; and as he well knew lord Oxford's unwillingness to pursue those means, he was resolved to drive him to it, through the fear of his being deserted otherwise both by his party, and the queen; which is evidently the tendency of the last paragraph in this piece. "To conclude: the only way of securing the constitution in church and state, and consequently this very protestant succession itself, will be the lessening the power of our domestick adversaries as much as can possibly consist with the lenity of our government; and if this be not speedily done, it will be easy to point where the nation is to fix the blame: for we are very well assured, that since the account her majesty received of the cabals, the triumphs, the insolent behaviour of the whole faction during her late illness at Windsor, she has been as willing to see them deprived of all power to do mischief, as any of her most zealous and loyal subjects can desire."

There was no opportunity however of trying what effect this piece would have had, as the death of the queen, soon after it went to press, put a stop to the publication. This event also put an end to all Swift's noble designs for the publick benefit, and cut off at once all his own future prospects. This was a terrible blow to the whole party; but, though it was felt by no one more severely than by Swift, he had too much fortitude to sink under it. There is an admirable picture given of him upon this occasion, by a few strokes of the masterly hand of an Arbuthnot[10]. "I have seen a letter from dean Swift; he keeps up his noble spirit, and though like a man knocked down, you may behold him still with a stern countenance, and aiming a blow at his adversaries."

In a few weeks after this event, Swift returned to his deanery in Ireland, where he continued many years without visiting England.

Before we accompany him into exile, for as such he always considered it, let us take a review of his conduct during the most distinguished era of his life, when he had an opportunity of displaying all the great talents of his mind, and the excellent qualities of his heart, in a most conspicuous light. His engaging with the new ministry was not either the effect of a sudden resolution, or of accident. He had long foreseen the change, and determined what part he should take, whenever it should be brought about; although he prudently concealed his thoughts till the event happened. It was before mentioned, that Mr. Harley had very nearly succeeded in supplanting the whig ministry in the year 1708, two years before he actually effected it. While this was in agitation, we find that Swift insinuates his own intentions to his friend the archbishop of Dublin, in a letter, dated November 9, 1708. "Although I care not to mingle publick affairs with the interest of so private a person as myself, yet, upon such a revolution, not knowing how far my friends may endeavour to engage me in the service of a new government, I would beg your grace to have favourable thoughts of me on such an occasion; and to assure you, that no prospect of making my fortune, shall ever prevail upon me to go against what becomes a man of conscience and truth, and an entire friend to the established church."

However, as the design failed at that time, Swift made no advances to the tories, but kept himself at large, waiting for the event; which he foresaw would certainly be brought about in time. He had leisure mean while to lay down to himself the maxims by which his conduct should be regulated, whenever such a revolution should take place.

As there was much obloquy thrown on the character of Swift, on account of his supposed desertion of the whigs, and going over to the tories as soon as they got into power, it will be proper to examine what foundation the whigs had for such a charge against him.

Swift, in his Memoirs relative to the change in the queen's ministry, gives the following account of his first introduction to the leaders of the whig party. Speaking of his pamphlet, entitled The Contests and Dissensions of the Nobles and Commons in Athens and Rome, &c, he says: "This discourse I sent very privately to the press, with the strictest injunctions to conceal the author, and returned immediately to my residence in Ireland. The book was greedily bought and read; and charged, sometimes upon lord Somers, and sometimes upon the bishop of Salisbury; the latter of whom told me afterward, that he was forced to disown it in a very publick manner, for fear of an impeachment, wherewith he was threatened.

"Returning next year for England, and hearing of the great approbation this piece had received, which was the first I ever printed, I must confess the vanity of a young man prevailed with me, to let myself be known for the author: upon which my lords Somers and Halifax, as well as the bishop abovementioned, desired my acquaintance, with great marks of esteem and professions of kindness: not to mention the earl of Sunderland, who had been of my old acquaintance. They lamented that they were not able to serve me since the death of the king, and were very liberal in promising me the greatest preferments I could hope for, if ever it came in their power. I soon grew domestick with lord Halifax, and was as often with lord Somers, as the formality of his nature (the only unconversable fault he had) made it agreeable to me.

"It was then I began to trouble myself with the difference between the principles of whig and tory; having formerly employed myself in other, and I think, much better speculations: I talked often with lord Somers upon this subject; told him, that having been long conversant with the Greek and Roman authors, and therefore a lover of liberty, I found myself much inclined to be what they called a whig in politicks; and that besides, I thought it impossible, upon any other principles, to defend the revolution: but as to religion, I confessed myself to be a high churchman, and that I did not conceive how any one, who wore the habit of a clergyman, could be otherwise. That I had observed very well with what insolence and haughtiness some lords of the high church party treated not only their own chaplains, but all other clergymen whatsoever; and thought this sufficiently recompensed, by their professions of zeal to the church. That I had observed the whig lords took a direct contrary measure; treated the persons of particular clergymen with great courtesy, but showed much ill will and contempt for the order in general. That I knew it was necessary for their party to make their bottom as wide as they could, by taking all denominations of protestants to be members of their body. That I would not enter into the mutual reproaches made by the violent men on either side; but that the connivance or encouragement given by the whigs, to those writers of pamphlets who reflected on the whole body of the clergy, without any exception, would unite the church, as one man, to oppose them; and that I doubted his lordship's friends did not consider the consequence of this. My lord Somers, in appearance, entered very warmly into the same opinion, and said very much of the endeavours he had often used, to redress the evil I complained of. This his lordship, as well as my lord Halifax, to whom I have talked in the same manner, can very well remember, and I have indeed been told, by an honourable gentleman of the same party, that both their lordships, about the time of lord Godolphin's removal, did, upon occasion, call to mind what I had said to them five years before."

Hence it appears evidently, that though Swift agreed with the whigs in his political principles, he differed totally from them in those which regarded the church, and therefore was considered by them only as a half-brother; on which account they were not very solicitous to give him any preferment, though they wished to keep upon good terms with him, by making many fair promises, which it seems they had no intention to perform. Of this we have already seen instances in the affair of his secretaryship to Vienna, and the bishoprick of Virginia. Stung with this treatment, he broke off all connexion with them long before he had access to any of the leaders of the tory party, and while the whigs were yet in the plenitude of power. Nay, he went farther, and published several pieces in opposition to their measures. Of which take the following account, given by himself in his Memoirs, &c. "I mentioned these insignificant particulars, as it will be easily judged, for some reasons that are purely personal to myself; it having been objected by several of those poor pamphleteers, who have blotted so much paper to show their malice against me, that I was a favourer of the low party. Whereas it has been manifest to all men, that during the highest dominion of that faction, I had published several tracts in opposition to the measures then taken. For instance, A Project for the Reformation of Manners, in a Letter to the Countess of Berkeley; The Sentiments of a Church of England Man; An Argument against abolishing Christianity; and, lastly, A Letter to a Member of Parliament, against taking off the Test in Ireland, which I have already mentioned to have been published at the time the earl of Wharton was setting out to his government of that kingdom."

The same cry about quitting the whigs was raised against him in Ireland, of which he takes the following notice, in his Journal to Stella. "Why should the whigs think I came to England to leave them? sure my journey was no secret. I protest sincerely I did all I could to hinder it, as the dean can tell you, although now I do not repent it. But who the devil cares what they think? Am I under obligations in the least to any of them all? Rot them, for ungrateful dogs, I'll make them repent their usage before I leave this place. They say here the same thing of my leaving the whigs; but they own they cannot blame me, considering the treatment I have had."

On his arrival in London, he says, "The whigs are ravished to see me, and would lay hold on me as a twig, while they are drowning, and the great men are making me their clumsy apologies, &c. But my lord treasurer (Godolphin) received me with a great deal of coldness, which has enraged me so, I am almost vowing revenge." Soon after he says, "At ten I went to the coffeehouse, hoping to find lord Radnor, whom I had not seen. He was there; and for an hour and a half we talked treason heartily against the whigs, their baseness and ingratitude. And I am come home rolling resentments in my mind, and framing schemes of revenge; full of which, having written down some hints, I go to bed." In another place, "'Tis good to see what a lamentable confession the whigs all make me of my ill usage, but I mind them not. I am already represented to Harley as a discontented person, that was used ill for not being whig enough; and I hope for good usage from him." In a letter to archbishop King, September 9, 1710, he speaks more fully to the same effect. "Upon my arrival here, I found myself equally caressed by both parties; by one, as a sort of bough, for drowning men to lay hold of; and by the other, as one discontented with the late men in power, for not being thorough in their designs, and therefore ready to approve present things. I was to visit my lord Godolphin, who gave me a reception very unexpected, and altogether different from what I ever received from any great man in my life; altogether short, dry, and morose; not worth repeating to your grace, until I have the honour to see you."

In his journal, October 2, 1710, he says, "Lord Halifax began a health to me to day; it was the resurrection of the whigs, which I refused, unless he would add their reformation too: and I told him he was the only whig in England I loved, or had any good opinion of[11]."

One may form a just idea of the greatness of Swift's resentment, at the treatment he had met with from the whigs, from a passage in his Journal of the following year, after the wonderful success which his writings against them had met with; where he says, "I have been gaining enemies by scores, and friends by couples, which is against the rules of wisdom; because they say, one enemy can do more hurt, than ten friends can do good. But I have had my revenge at least, if I get nothing else. And so let fate govern."

I have been the longer upon this article, because, however Swift might have been acquitted of this charge in England, where the real state of the case was known, I always found the imputation keep its ground in Ireland, and his character stigmatized, as that of a turncoat for preferment, under the tory administration.

We have already seen with what eagerness lord Oxford embraced the first overtures made to him by Swift, and what pains he took to engage him in his party. As Swift well knew his own consequence, and the great necessity the new ministry had for his service, it is certain he might have indulged himself at such a juncture, in the most flattering expectations, of rising soon to the highest dignities in his profession; and could have made what terms he pleased with regard to his own interest, if that had been the chief point he had in view. But he had long formed in his head some great plans for promoting the publick welfare, in regard to which all considerations of self, weighed with him but as the dust upon the balance. He therefore determined, upon his engaging with the new ministry, to make use of all the weight and credit to which his services might entitle him, in carrying on those publick plans, and to leave the care of his own fortune wholly to chance. How little solicitous he was about that article, may be fully seen in a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, dated October 1, 1711, where he has been very explicit, both as to his sentiments upon that head, and the conduct he was determined to observe. "I humbly thank your grace for the good opinion you are pleased to have of me, and for your advice, which seems to be wholly grounded on it. As to the first, which relates to my fortune, I shall never be able to make myself believed how indifferent I am about it. I sometimes have the pleasure of making that of others; and I fear it is too great a pleasure to be a virtue, at least in me. Perhaps, in Ireland, I may not be able to prevent contempt, any other way than by making my fortune; but then it is my comfort, that contempt in Ireland will be no sort of mortification to me. When I was last in Ireland, I was above half the time retired to one scurvy acre of ground, and I always left it with regret. I am as well received and known at court, as perhaps any man ever was of my level; I have formerly been the like. I left it then, and perhaps will leave it now, (when they please to let me) without any concern but what a few months will remove. It is my maxim to leave great ministers to do as they please; and if I cannot enough distinguish myself by being useful in such a way, as becomes a man of conscience and honour, I can do no more; for I never will solicit for myself, although I often do for others." And in another letter to the same, dated in the following year, he says, "I know nothing of promises of any thing intended for myself; but I thank God I am not very warm in my expectations, and know courts too well to be surprised at disappointments; which, however, I shall have no great reason to fear, if I gave my thoughts any great trouble that way, which, without affectation, I do not, although I cannot expect to be believed when I say so."

In his Journal to Stella, where the inmost recesses of his heart are opened, he makes frequent mention of his little solicitude, and small expectation on that score. In one, dated January 1711, he says, "My new friends are very kind, and I have promises enough, but I do not count upon them. However, we will see what may be done, and, if nothing at all, I shall not be disappointed." And in that of the June following, "Remember, if I am ill used, and ungratefully, as I have formerly been, 'tis what I am prepared for, and shall not wonder at. Yet I am now envied, and thought in high favour, and have every day numbers of considerable men teasing me to solicit for them. And the ministry all use me perfectly well, and all that know them, say, they love me. Yet I can count upon nothing, &c. They think me useful, they pretend they were afraid of none but me, and that they resolved to have me; they have often confessed this, yet all makes little impression on me." In that of March 1712, he says, "I had been with the secretary before, to recommend a friend, one Dr. Freind, to be physician general, and the secretary promised to mention it to the queen. I can serve every body but myself." There are many passages to the same effect throughout this Journal, so that we may conclude with certainty, that the desire of serving himself was one of the last motives which engaged him to enter so deeply into the political system at that time. No, he was actuated by a nobler principle, a true spirit of patriotism. He saw now a fair opening for the exertion of his extraordinary talents, in support of our excellent constitution, both in church and state; an occasion which he had long waited for with impatience, and which he embraced with ardour. He had, as he mentions in his Journal to Stella, great things in view, to the accomplishment of which he postponed all considerations of self. Beside his political plan, he had formed the design of bringing about a general reformation in manners, and taste, which had been much corrupted under the whig administration. He was firmly persuaded, that the only way to accomplish these points, was to keep them from ever returning again into power. He had a good opinion of the intentions of the new ministry; or, whether they were sincere or not, the professed principles, upon which they acted, were consonant to his. He says, in a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, "Wanting wisdom to judge better, I follow those, who, I think, are most for preserving the constitution in church and state, without examining whether they do so from a principle of virtue, or of interest." And indeed they were the only persons that could possibly have overturned the whig administration, or, when overturned, have kept them out; consequently, he could have no hope, but in their continuance in power. He early saw, and told the ministry, composed of lord Oxford, lord Bolingbroke, and the lord keeper, that all things depended on their union, and this he often repeated to them, when they were together, and separately to each. But he soon had occasion to observe, that two of them were formed of such discordant tempers, and had views so opposite, as to threaten a speedy breach. To prevent so great an evil, which would at once ruin their cause, and put an end to all his noble designs, he determined to keep himself in a situation, that would at all times qualify him for the office of a mediator between them, and at the same time give due weight to his interposition, by his remaining in a state of utter independence, and receiving no obligation in return, while he was daily conferring the greatest upon them. It was on this account that he refused to be chaplain to lord Oxford, who made an offer of it to him, the very day after his being created lord Oxford, and appointed lord treasurer. In his Journal to Stella, of the 24th of May 1711, there is this passage: "My lord Oxford cannot yet abide to be called my lord; and when I called him my lord, he called me Dr. Thomas Swift[12], which he always does when he has a mind to tease me. By a second hand, he proposed my being his chaplain, which I by a second hand excused; but we had no talk of it to day; but I will be no man's chaplain alive." And in his Preface to the History of the Four last Years of Queen Anne, he says, "I absolutely refused to be chaplain to the lord treasurer, because I thought it would but ill become me to be in a state of dependence." For the same reason, very early after his connection with the ministry, he refused to accept of a living from the lord keeper, which he thus mentions in his Journal: "Lord keeper told me, some months ago, he would give me a living when I pleased; but I told him I would not take any from him." There have been several instances before given of his early conduct toward the ministry, showing, that he expected to be treated by them on a footing of perfect equality; of which he never slipped any opportunity of reminding them. In a letter to the lord treasurer, he says, "When I was with you, I have said more than once, that I would never allow that quality, or station, made any real difference between men. From these sentiments, I will never write to you, if I can help it, otherwise than as to a private person, or allow myself to have been obliged by you in any other capacity." In a letter to lord Bolingbroke, he says, "I would have you know, sir, that if the queen gave you a dukedom and the garter to morrow, with the treasury staff at the end of them, I would regard you no more than if you were not worth a groat." To preserve this equality, which he then thought essential to the great points he had in view, it was necessary he should keep himself free from any particular obligation; by which means he was considered as a common disinterested friend by all the ministers. And it was in this capacity that he was able to heal many breaches between them, which would have been otherwise incurable. Of this he makes frequent mention in his Journal. In that of August, 1711, he says, "Do you know that I have ventured all my credit with these great ministers, to clear some misunderstanding between them; and if there be no breach, I ought to have the merit of it? 'Tis a plaguy ticklish piece of work, and a man hazards losing both sides." In that of October following, is this passage: "The secretary told me last night he had found the reason why the queen was so cold to him for some months past; that a friend had told it to him yesterday; and it was, that they suspected he was at the bottom with the duke of Marlborough. Then he said, he had reflected upon all I had spoken to him long ago; but he thought it had been only my suspicion, and my zeal and kindness for him. I said I had reason to take that very ill, to imagine I knew so little of the world, as to talk at a venture to a great minister; that I had gone between him and lord treasurer often, and told each of them what I had said to the other; and that I had informed him so before. He said all, you may imagine, to excuse himself, and approve my conduct. I told him I knew all along, that this proceeding of mine was the surest way to send me back to my willows in Ireland, but that I regarded it not, provided I could do the kingdom service in keeping them well together. I minded him how often I had told lord treasurer, lord keeper, and him together, that all things depended on their union, and that my comfort was, to see them love one another, and I told them all singly, that I had not said this by chance," &c. In September 1712, he says, "I am again endeavouring, as I was last year, to keep people from breaking to pieces upon a hundred misunderstandings. One cannot withhold them from drawing different ways, while the enemy is watching to destroy both." And in the October following, he says, I have helped to patch up these people together once more. God knows how long it may last." In many other places, he mentions the disagreeable necessity he was under of continuing his endeavours in this way, and laments that he could get no one to second him. In his Inquiry into the Behaviour of the Queen's last Ministry, &c. he says, "Neither perhaps would a reconcilement have been an affair of much difficulty, if their friends on both sides had not too much observed the common prudential forms of not caring to intermeddle; which, together with the addition of a shrug, was the constant answer I received from most of them, whenever I pressed them upon the subject. And, to say the truth, most persons had so avowedly declared themselves on one side, or the other, that these two great men had hardly a common friend left, except myself. I had ever been treated with great kindness by them both; and I conceived what I wanted in weight and credit, might be made up with sincerity and freedom. The former they never doubted, and the latter they had constant experience of. I had managed between them for almost two years, and their candour was so great, that they had not the least jealousy or suspicion of me." The truth of this account is confirmed in a letter written to lord Bolingbroke, soon after the queen's death, where, speaking of the lord treasurer, he says, "I am only sorry it was not a resignation, rather than a removal; because the personal kindness and distinction I always received from his lordship and you, gave me such a love for you both (if you great men will allow that expression in a little one) that I resolved to preserve it entire, however you differed between yourselves; and in this I did for sometime follow your commands and example. I impute it more to the candour of each of you, than to my own conduct, that having been for two years almost the only man who went between you, I never observed the least alteration in either of your countenances toward me." Nothing can show the character of Swift in a higher point of light, than his conduct on this occasion; and nothing could possibly have preserved to him the unabated love of these two great rivals for power, who hated each other mortally, in the discharge of so delicate an office, but the high opinion which each entertained of his integrity, and perfect disinterestedness. However, it is certain, that had it not been for his generous and unwearied endeavours, their whole plan must have been destroyed long before, and the ministry, and the party, involved in the same ruin. So that as they were indebted to him at first, for saving them from the attacks of their enemies, and establishing them in power, they were daily afterward obliged to him for preserving them in it, by guarding them against their worst enemies, their own passions. Having thus suspended all regard to his own interest, after such important services he had an undoubted claim upon the ministers to promote every plan for the good of the publick, and could with a better grace push the fortune of others. Accordingly, we find him bold and frequent in his recommendations, whenever merit or compassion called for his assistance. His first object was to procure marks of distinction and reward, to all men of parts and genius. The claim which he put in on that score to the ministry, was not selfishly confined to his own person, but exacted equally for all others, according to their several pretensions. He insisted, that no distinction of party should be made with regard to them; and that all of that class, who had listed under the banner of the whigs, should still be kept in their employments. In his Journal, he says, "Do you know I have taken more pains to recommend the whig wits to the favour and mercy of the ministers, than any other people. Steele I have kept in his place. Congreve I have got to be used kindly and secured. Rowe I have recommended, and got a promise of a place. Philips I should certainly have provided for, if he had not run party mad, and made me withdraw my recommendations. I set Addison so right at first, that he might have been employed, and have partly secured him the place he has; yet I am worse used by that faction than any man." In another place he is particular in his relation of what he had done with regard to Congreve. "I went late to day to town, and dined with my friend Lewis. I saw Will Congreve attending at the treasury, by order, with his brethren, the commissioners of the wine licences. I had often mentioned him with kindness to lord treasurer; and Congreve told me, that after they had answered to what they were sent for, my lord called him privately, and spoke to him with great kindness, promising his protection, &c. The poor man said, he had been used so ill of late years, that he was quite astonished at my lord's goodness, &c. and desired me to tell my lord so; which I did this evening, and recommended him heartily. My lord assured me he esteemed him very much, and would be always kind to him; that what he said was to make Congreve easy, because he knew people talked as if his lordship designed to turn every body out, and particularly Congreve; which indeed was true, for the poor man told me he apprehended it. As I left my lord treasurer, I called on Congreve (knowing where he dined) and told him what had passed between my lord and me: so I have made a worthy man easy, and that's a good day's work."

But of all the men of parts in the opposition, Swift seems to be most concerned about his friend Addison, and on his account about Steele; of which he makes frequent mention in his Journal. In that of October 19, 1710, soon after his first introduction to lord Oxford, then Mr. Harley, there is the following passage: "I was this morning with Mr. Lewis, the under secretary to lord Dartmouth, two hours, talking politicks, and contriving to keep Steele in his office of stamp paper. He has lost his place of gazetteer, three hundred pounds a year, for writing a Tatler some months ago, against Mr. Harley, who gave it to him at first, and raised the salary from sixty to three hundred pounds. This was devilish ungrateful, and Lewis was telling me the particulars; but I had a hint given me that I might save him in his other employment; and leave was given me to clear matters with Steele. Well, I dined with sir Matthew Dudley, and in the evening went to sit with Mr. Addison, and offer the matter at distance to him, as the discreeter person; but found party had so possessed him, that he talked as if he suspected me, and would not fall in with any thing I said. So I stopped short in my overture, and we parted very dryly; and I shall say nothing to Steele, and let them do as they will; but if things stand as they are, he will certainly lose it, unless I save him; and therefore I will not speak to him, that I may not report to his disadvantage. Is not this vexatious, and is there so much in the proverb of proffered service? When shall I grow wise? I endeavour to act in the most exact points of honour and conscience, and my nearest friends will not understand it so. What must a man expect from his enemies? This would vex me, but it shall not."

In that of December following, he says, "Mr. Addison and I are different as black and white, and I believe our friendship will go off by this damned business of party. He cannot bear seeing me fall in so with this ministry; but I love him still as much as ever, though we seldom meet."

In the same Journal he gives the following account: "Lewis told me a pure thing. I had been hankering with Mr. Harley, to save Steele his other employment, and have a little mercy on him; and I had been saying the same thing to Lewis, who is Mr. Harley's chief favourite. Lewis tells Mr. Harley how kindly I should take it, if he would be reconciled to Steele, &c. Mr. Harley, on my account, falls in with it: and appoints Steele a time to let him attend him, which Steele accepts with great submission, but never comes, nor sends any excuse. Whether it was blundering, sullenness, insolence, or rancour of party, I cannot tell; but I shall trouble myself no more about him. I believe Addison hindered him out of mere spite, being grated to the soul to think he should ever want my help to save his friend; yet now he is soliciting me to make another of his friends queen's secretary at Geneva, and I'll do it if I can; it is poor pastoral Philips."

In another place he says, "I called at the coffeehouse, where I had not been in a week, and talked coldly awhile with Mr. Addison; all our friendship and dearness are off: we are civil acquaintance, talk words of course, of when we shall meet, and that's all. Is it not odd? but I think he has used me ill, and I have used him too well, at least his friend Steele."

In a few weeks after, he writes thus: "I went to Mr. Addison, and dined with him at his lodgings; I had not seen him these three weeks. We are grown common acquaintance, yet what have I not done for his friend Steele? Mr. Harley reproached me the last time I saw him, that to please me he would be reconciled to Steele, and had promised and appointed to see him, and that Steele never came. Harrison, whom Mr. Addison recommended to me, I have introduced to the secretary of state, who has promised me to take care of him. And I have represented Addison himself so to the ministry, that they think and talk in his favour, though they hated him before. Well, he is now in my debt, and there's an end; and I had never the least obligation to him, and there's another end."

In the following year, May, 1711, he says, "Steele has had the assurance to write to me, that I would engage my lord treasurer to keep a friend of his in employment." And in his Journal of July following, he says, "Mr. Addison and I have at last met again. I dined with him and Steele to day at young Jacob Tonson's. Mr. Addison and I talked as usual, and as if we had seen one another yesterday; and Steele and I were very easy, although I wrote him a biting letter, in answer to one of his, where he desired me to recommend a friend of his to lord treasurer." In the year 1712, we find he had brought Addison so far about as to dine with lord Bolingbroke. In his Journal of that year, he says, "Addison and I, and some others, dined with lord Bolingbroke, and sate with him till twelve. We were very civil, but yet, when we grew warm, we talked in a friendly manner of party: Addison raised his objections, and lord Bolingbroke answered them with great complaisance."

From all these accounts, we may see what an amazing difference there was been the minds of Swift and Addison. What a grandeur in the one, what a littleness in the other! Swift, though deeply engaged with the successful party, using all his endeavours to prevent a difference in politicks, from creating a disunion among men of genius: Addison, from a narrowness of mind, growing cool to a man for whose talents he had professed the highest admiration, and for whose person the warmest regard, merely because they were of different parties. Swift, in the plenitude of power, when another would have been glad of so fair a pretence for breaking off all commerce with him, perseveres in his good offices toward him, as if their friendship were still mutual and inviolate; sets him on a good footing with the ministry, and preserves him and his friends, notwithstanding the ill behaviour of the latter in their employments. Addison, notwithstanding he had forfeited all pretensions to Swift's friendship by his unmanly behaviour, and during the continuance of his coldness, is mean enough to solicit Swift's interest in favour of some of his friends. Swift, though never under the least obligation to Addison when he was in power, exerts his interest as if he had been under the highest; and among others, procures for Harrison, one of Mr. Addison's recommending, an employment of no less than twelve hundred pounds a year. When indeed Steele had the assurance, as Swift justly expresses it, of desiring the same favour, he shows what a difference he made between the men, by sending him, as he calls it, a biting answer. Whether it was this which exasperated Steele, or from whatever other cause it were, he some time after wrote a virulent paper in the Guardian against Swift, which produced some severe expostulations on his part, to be seen in the letters that passed between them on that occasion. Where, on Steele's part, we find the highest insolence, added to the basest ingratitude; as will immediately appear on a view of those letters. Swift, in one to Addison upon this subject, had said, "have I deserved this usage from Mr. Steele, who knows very well, that my lord treasurer has kept him in his employment, upon my entreaty and intercession?" This charge Steele answers in the most insulting manner, thus, "They laugh at you, if they make you believe your interposition has kept me thus long in office." To this Swift in his reply, says, "The case was thus: I did with the utmost application, and desiring to lay all my credit upon it, desire Mr. Harley (as he was then called) to show you mercy. He said he would, and wholly upon my account: that he would appoint you a day to see him; that he would not expect you should quit any friend or principle. Some days after, he told me he had appointed you a day, and you had not kept it; upon which he reproached me, as engaging for more than I could answer; and advised me to be more cautious another time. I told him, and desired my lord chancellor and lord Bolingbroke to be witnesses, that I never would speak for or against you, as long as I lived; only I would desire, and that it was still my opinion, you should have mercy, till you gave farther provocations. This is the history of what you think fit to call, in the spirit of insulting, their laughing at me. And you may do it securely; for, by the most inhuman dealings, you have wholly put it out of my power, as a christian, to do you the least ill office."

After having read the several passages relative to Steele, before quoted in the Journal, no one can doubt but that Swift has here fairly stated the case, and that he might even have put it in a stronger light. It is hard to say whether Steele's weakness of head, or badness of heart, were most conspicuous in this transaction. Causelessly to attack and insult a man, to whom he lay under such obligations, argued great baseness; and his defence of himself, by denying an obligation so notoriously conferred, still more so. And to provoke a man to prove the reality of his charge, that it was he alone who had hitherto kept him in his employment, by getting him immediately discharged from it, which Swift could have done by speaking a word, was surely weak. But in that point he was secure, he knew his man too well: he knew Swift was incapable of a mean revenge. He might, as Swift nobly says to him, "do it securely;" "for (as he adds) by the most inhuman dealings, you have wholly put it out of my power, as a christian, to do you the least ill office." Yet, though Swift was above a revenge of this sort, he thought himself called upon to answer his challenge, as a writer, and chastise his insolence in his own way. Which he afterward did so effectually, in his famous pamphlet, called The Public Spirit of the Whigs, and in several subsequent pieces, that, from being an author of some eminence, Steele became for some time an object of ridicule and contempt. How weak, or how vain must the man have been, to have defied such a champion to so unequal a combat! I have been the longer in the detail of this transaction, because it is, perhaps, the only instance to be found of Swift's ever having broke entirely with any man with whom he had lived on terms of friendship; and to justify the extreme severity which appeared in his writings against Steele, after so great a provocation.


Having seen the care which Swift took of men of genius, so that even their opposition in party should be of no prejudice to them, we may suppose he was not less solicitous in promoting the interests of others, who were under no demerit of that sort. Accordingly we find, there were not any at that time, of the least pretensions in that way, who were not obliged to him for essential services. The famous Dr. Berkeley, afterward bishop of Cloyne in Ireland, owed his fortune wholly to him, as he placed him in the road which led to his promotion. In his Journal of April 7, 1713, he says, "I went to court to day, on purpose to present Mr. Berkeley, one of your fellows of Dublin college, to lord Berkeley of Stratton. That Mr. Berkeley is a very ingenious man, and a great philosopher; and I have mentioned him to all the ministers, and have given them some of his writings, and I will favour him as much as I can. This I think I am bound to in honour and conscience, to use all my little credit toward helping forward men of worth in the world." He afterward got him appointed chaplain to lord Peterborow's embassy, who procured for him the rich deanery of Derry. Pope, in his preface to the translation of Homer, expresses the highest obligations to him for his zeal in promoting the subscription to that work. Gay, by his interest, was appointed secretary to the embassy to Hanover. Harrison, a young man of promising genius, recommended to him by Mr. Addison, was made by him queen's secretary at the Hague, a place of one thousand two hundred pounds a year, though he lived but a short time to enjoy it. We have already seen in what manner he introduced, and recommended Parnell to the ministry. Nor was he unmindful of such as had but a moderate share of merit in that way. He made Dr. King gazetteer; he made Trap chaplain to lord Bolingbroke. He discovered some marks of original genius in some Sea Eclogues, written by an obscure man, one Diaper, and immediately sought the author out, and brought him into light: of this he gives the following account in his Journal, December 1712: "This morning I presented one Diaper, a poet, to lord Bolingbroke, with a new poem, which is a very good one; and I am to give a sum of money from my lord. I have contrived to make a parson of him, for he is half one already, being in deacon's orders, and a small cure in the country; but has a sword at his tail here in town. 'Tis a poor, little, short wretch, but will do best in a gown, and we will make lord keeper give him a living."

Nor were his good offices confined to men of genius only, but merit of every kind was sure to find in him a warm advocate, and oppressed innocence, a protector. He says, in a letter to lady Betty Germain, "when I had credit for some years at court, I provided for above fifty people in both kingdoms, of which not one was a relation." And we find, in his Journal and letters, that he did numberless good offices for others. He says, in more places than one, that lord Oxford never once refused him any request of that sort. His character was so well known in this respect, that we see, in the collection of letters, several addresses to him from persons, either little known to him, or utterly unacquainted with him, requesting his assistance, in cases of compassion; or protection, in those of oppression. Nor did he ever fail to interfere, in either cases, when any such came to his knowledge by accident, though it were with regard to perfect strangers. There was one remarkable occasion, on which he interposed in favour of a man, though he held him in no degree of estimation, merely from a principle of justice; which was, in the case of the famous Dr. Sacheverell: who, though he had been of infinite use to the tory ministry, nay, was in reality the occasion of their getting into power, yet, when the work was done, was laid by, as the tools of statesmen too often are, when they can be of no farther use, and utterly neglected. That Swift was of this opinion, is clear from the following passage in his Journal: "So Sacheverell will be the next bishop! He would be glad of an addition of two hundred pounds a year to what he has, and that is more than they will give him, for aught I see. He hates the new ministry mortally, and they hate him, and pretend to despise him too. They will not allow him to have been the occasion of the late change, at least some of them will not: but my lord keeper owned it to me the other day." Swift therefore thought it but common justice in the ministry to do something for him; and, without any application from the doctor, or even any personal acquaintance with him, in the year 1711 he procured a place for his brother; who, by a failure in trade, had for some years, together with his whole family, been entirely supported by the doctor. This affair is thus related by Swift in his Journal. "Did I tell you that Sacheverell has desired mightily to come and see me? but I have put it off. He has heard that I have spoken to the secretary in behalf of a brother whom he maintains, and who desires an employment. T'other day, at the court of requests, Dr. Yalden saluted me by name; Sacheverell, who was just by, came up to me, and made many acknowledgments and compliments. Last night I desired lord treasurer to do something for that brother of Sacheverell. He said he never knew he had a brother; but thanked me for telling him, and immediately put his name in his tablebook. I will let Sacheverell know this, that he may take his measures accordingly; but he shall be none of my acquaintance." A letter from the doctor to Swift, dated January 31, 1711-12, begins thus: "Since you have been pleased to undertake the generous office of soliciting my good lord treasurer's favour in my behalf, I should be very ungrateful, if I did not return you my most hearty thanks for it, and my humblest acknowledgments to his lordship for the success it has met with." And in the conclusion, he says, "But for yourself, good doctor, who were the first spring to move it, I can never sufficiently acknowledge the obligation." Afterward, in the year 1713, soon after the three years silence imposed upon the doctor by the house of lords, in consequence of his impeachment, had expired; Swift procured for him the rectory of St. Andrew's, Holborn, in the following whimsical manner. Upon that living's becoming vacant, he applied for it in behalf of Sacheverell, to lord Bolingbroke; who seemed not at all disposed in his favour, calling him a busy, meddling, factious fellow, one who had set the kingdom in a flame. To which Swift replied, it is all true, my lord; but let me tell you a story. "In a sea-fight, in the reign of Charles II, there was a very bloody engagement between the English and Dutch fleets; in the heat of which, a Scotch seaman was very severely bit by a louse on his neck, which he caught, and stooping down to crack it, just as he had put himself in that posture, a chain-shot came and took off the heads of several sailors that were about him; on which he had compassion on the poor louse, returned him to his place, and bid him live there at discretion; for, said he, as thou hast been the means of saving my life, it is but just I should save yours." Lord Bolingbroke laughed heartily, and said, "Well then, the louse shall have the living for your story." And accordingly he was soon after presented to it. In all solicitations of this nature, conscious of the goodness of his motives, which were either those of merit, compassion, or justice, he was bold in his recommendations, and made them rather as demands, than requests. Of this we have an instance in the following passage of his Journal, January 1711-12. "This morning I presented my printer and bookseller to lord Rivers, to be stationer to the ordnance. I believe it will be worth three hundred pounds a year to them. This is the third employment I have got for them. Rivers told them the doctor commanded him, and he durst not refuse." And in the next page, he says, "I was this morning again with lord Rivers, and have made him give the other employment to my printer and bookseller; 'tis worth a great deal." His bookseller was Tooke, and his printer, Barber, afterward lord mayor of London. As they were both very honest men, and ran great risks in publishing some of his bolder pieces, for which Barber was also taken into custody, he thought he could not reward their services and fidelity too highly; and we find, upon the whole, he procured employments for them, to the amount of nearly two thousand pounds a year. This was the foundation of Barber's fortune, which he always acknowledged, with the highest gratitude, and to the last made every return in his power to his great patron. The expression of lord Rivers, "that the doctor commanded him, and he durst not refuse," was literally true; not only with regard to him, but to all the ministry, who seemed to look up to him as to one of a superiour class of mortals, both on account of his amazing talents, and that noble quality of perfect disinterestedness, perhaps not to be parallelled in his time, and rarely to be found in the annals of history. This gave such a dignity to his character, and such a weight to his recommendations, that it does not appear he ever failed in any. And indeed it would have been strange, that the men in power should have refused any requests of that sort, which tended highly to their own honour, by promoting men of talents and worth, to a man who was daily employed in doing them the most important services, without once hinting at any return for them to himself. In this state did this extraordinary man continue for near three years, without the smallest reward, or the least addition to his fortune, which consisted only of a living of about two hundred and fifty pounds a year, and not quite five hundred pounds in cash; at the same time that he was in such a degree of power, that he was making the fortune of multitudes. Thus did he verify his early declaration to the archbishop of Dublin, before quoted. Nothing astonished the people of those times more, than that so distinguished a man, and apparently in such high favour, should have remained, for such a length of time, without any promotion: and that he should at last be rewarded only with a paltry deanery, in another kingdom, to which he went with the utmost reluctance, and which was looked upon by himself, as well as by the world, only as a species of banishment, has ever since been considered in so extraordinary a light, that various have been the conjectures of the world to account for it. Some, who knew Swift's real merits toward the ministry, have not been backward in charging them with the basest ingratitude on the occasion. Others, not so well acquainted with the history of those times, thought it was impossible Swift could have been a man of such importance as he was represented, otherwise he must certainly have made his way to the highest station in the church; and considering him only as a writer of some political papers and pamphlets, were not surprised that his reward should be no greater. But, since the publication of the private memoirs of those times, in Swift's last volumes, there is no farther room for conjecture, as this whole affair may be set in its true light, upon undoubted proofs. I have already given many striking instances of the little solicitude Swift had about pushing his own fortune. I shall now remind the reader of the principle upon which he acted, mentioned in a passage before quoted, from a letter of his to the archbishop of Dublin, dated October 1, 1711. "It is my maxim to leave great ministers to do as they please; and if I cannot distinguish myself enough, by being useful in such a way, as becomes a man of conscience and honour, I can do no more; for I never will solicit for myself, although I often do for others." This resolution we find, by many other passages, he strictly adhered to; and when we consider the procrastinating disposition of lord Oxford, we shall not be surprised at his not being in any haste to provide for a man who never solicited him. Nothing is more common than the deferring of any thing, however strongly in our intention it be to do it some time or other, which we consider as always in our power to do, unless we are particularly called upon to carry it into execution at some certain time: and this was more likely to be the case in one of his turn. Besides, as he was daily gratifying Swift in his requests for others, he thought he might with reason expect that he should wait the most convenient season for his own promotion. And with regard to Swift himself, I have already assigned some very powerful motives, which made him in no haste with respect to preferment. But above all, there were many things, while he remained in that situation, which gratified his peculiar disposition and turn of mind to the height. His proud spirit was much fonder of conferring, than receiving obligations. In his Journal to Stella of March 1711-12, where he says, he can do nothing for himself, he adds, "I don't care, I shall have ministers, and other people obliged to me." And he did not wish to receive any return for his services, till they were swelled to such a height, as to make any reward, how great so ever, fall short of their value, and so free him from any debt on the score of obligation. He had all this time an opportunity of displaying the pride of independence, and of showing that by his own talents and intrinsick worth, without any of the usual aids in life, he could raise himself to a higher degree of consequence and power, than others could do by noble birth, high station, or enormous wealth. It must have been no small gratification to him, to think that it was to this little vicar of Laracor, that the ministry were indebted for remaining in their posts; that he was their protector and preserver in these posts, in spite of their enemies, and of themselves. That by degrees he grew into such confidence with them, that there was nothing done in publick affairs without consulting him; and that the world in general considered him as the primum mobile of all their conduct, insomuch, that there were many speeches made against him by name, on that account, both in the house of lords and commons. That he should have the greatest men) foreign ambassadors, &c. soliciting the ministry, through him, for favours. That his acquaintance should be courted by persons of the highest rank, and obtained only by a few, not on the score of their quality, or fortune, but merit. Was there not a secret pride in receiving these, in a lodging of eight shillings a week, and walking to the doors of all the greatest men of the age, which flew open at his approach? Never sure was a greater triumph of parts and virtue, over the usual idols of the world. To the immortal honour of Swift be it recorded, that he was the first man of letters and genius that we read of, who asserted the superiority of talents over titles, of virtue over wealth, in the face of the great and the rich; and not content with vain speculations, and idly declaiming on the subject, as all others had done, boldly demanded and received the homage due to such superiority, both for himself and others. This he could never have done, had he not convinced the great, that however they might stand in need of his assistance, he wanted not theirs. That he could be perfectly content with his present fortune, small as it was, and return to his willows at a day's notice, on any ill treatment, without the least reluctance. That they could have no hold on him either on the score of avarice, or ambition. As to the former, the noble resentment which he showed to the first attempt of lord Oxford, to lay him under a pecuniary obligation; the indignation which he expressed on two or three occasions, on bribes being offered to him for his interest; and, above all, his scorning to make any advantage of his works[13], so contrary to the established practice of all other authors, showed that he was unassailable in that way. And as to ambition, his whole conduct proved that he was determined to owe his rise wholly to his own merits, and not to any solicitation or interest on his behalf. In short, from his many declarations to others, in his letters before quoted, as well as those made to his bosom friend in his Journal, and from the whole tenour of his actions, consonant to those declarations, we may see that Swift, upon joining with the new ministry, had laid down this rule for his conduct; that he would serve the publick interests, and the common cause, to the utmost of his power; that he would exert all his influence in promoting men of talents and worth; and with regard to his own fortune, leave it wholly to chance, and court gratitude; of which, however, he had so mean an opinion from former experience, that he relied little on it, and was perfectly prepared against any disappointment. In his Journal of January 1710-11, he says, "My new friends are very kind, and I have promises enough, but I do not count upon them; and besides, my pretences are very young to them. However, we shall see what may be done, and if nothing at all, I shall not be disappointed, although perhaps poor M. D.[14] may, and then I shall be sorrier for their sakes than my own." And in that of June following, he says, "Remember, if I am used ill and ungratefully, as I have formerly been, 'tis what I am prepared for, and shall not wonder at it.' And in that of October following, he says to Stella, "I have no shuddering at all to think of retiring to my old circumstances, if you can be easy."

But while Swift was thus letting occasions slip, and the ministers deferring the reward of his services, there was a cabal forming at court, which put a stop to his promotion for a while, and had nearly prevented a possibility of it during that reign. It is to be observed, that however high he was in favour with the ministry, it does not appear that he ever stood well with the queen, or that she once gave him the least mark of her countenance or favour. Swift had mentioned to Stella, early in his Journal, that Mr. Harley had said, he would present him to the queen; but in his subsequent one of January 1710-11, he says, "Mr. Harley, of late, has said nothing of presenting me to the queen. — I was overseen when I mentioned it to you. He has such a weight of affairs on him, that he cannot mind all; but he talked of it three or four times to me, long before I dropt it to you." Nor does it appear afterward, through the course of the Journal, that this was ever done, or that the queen took the least notice of him. On the contrary, it is to be seen in many places of Swift's works, that she had imbibed strong prejudices against him; first, from Dr. Sharpe, archbishop of York, who represented him as a freethinker, or infidel; a character which that religious queen must, above all others, detest in a clergyman: and next, from the duchess of Somerset, her favourite, who hated Swift mortally, and took every opportunity of representing him in the worst colours to her royal mistress. But, above all, the queen had a reason of her own for disliking Swift, as he was constantly employed in endeavouring to counteract her favourite plan. What that was, will sufficiently appear from the following extracts. In his Journal to Stella, so early as February 1710-11, he says, "I'll tell you one great state secret: the queen, sensible how much she was governed by the late ministry, runs a little into t'other extreme, and is jealous in that point, even of those who got her out of the other's hands." He hints the same in other passages of his Journal. But in some of his tracts, published since his death, he is quite explicit on this article, and has laid open a secret spring of government, which was constantly operating during the last four years of that queen; and which being concealed, except from a very few, rendered the proceedings of the first minister wholly unaccountable to his friends at that time, and to all since who have entered into an examination of his conduct; but which being now disclosed, at once solves a riddle, hitherto thought inexplicable. In his tract, entitled, Memoirs relating to the Change in the Queen's Ministry in 1710, there is the following passage: "She (the queen) grew so jealous upon the change of her servants, that often, out of fear of being imposed on, by an overcaution, she would impose upon herself. She took a delight in refusing those who were thought to have greatest power with her, even in the most reasonable things, and such as were necessary for her service, nor would let them be done, until she fell into the humour of it herself." In another tract, entitled, An Inquiry into the Behaviour of the Queen's last Ministry, there is a passage to the same effect. "But in dispensing her favours, she was extremely cautious and slow; and after the usual mistake of those who think they have been often imposed on, became so very suspicious, that she overshot the mark, and erred on the other extreme. When a person happened to be recommended as useful for her service, or proper to be obliged, perhaps, after a long delay, she would consent; but if the treasurer offered at the same time a warrant, or other instrument to her, already prepared, in order to be signed, because he presumed to reckon on her consent beforehand, she would not; and thus the affair would sometimes lie for several months together, although the thing were ever so reasonable, or that even the publick suffered by the delay. So that this minister had no other remedy, but to let her majesty take her own time, which never failed to be the very longest, that the nature of the thing could suffer her to defer it." Hence it is evident, that the queen, who had long been weary of the bondage in which she was held by the whig ministry, was determined, upon a change, that she would not bring herself into the same predicament again, but was resolved to show that she had a will of her own, and that she would exert it; and, in order to be able to do this effectually, her plan was, not to suffer the tory interest to grow too strong, but to keep such a number of whigs still in office, as should be a constant check upon her ministers, against any encroachments of that sort. In the abovementioned tract, there are several passages that prove this point. In one it is said, "It is most certain, when the queen first began to change her servants, it was not from a dislike of things, but of persons; and those persons were a very small number. And afterward, when, upon some events, things were pushed farther than she at first intended, it was with great regret she saw some of the principal great officers among the whigs resign their employments." For, says the author, "She had entertained the notion of forming a moderate or comprehensive scheme, which she maintained with great firmness, nor would ever depart from, until about half a year before her death." This conduct, no doubt, was good policy in the queen, in order to preserve a due share of authority to herself; but at the same time her minister suffered extremely by it, who bore the brunt of all this trimming and moderation, which were imputed to some secret designs of his own, and caused incurable jealousies and suspicions in his friends, as well as the whole tory party. Of this Swift gives the following account in the same tract. "I remember it was then commonly understood and expected, that when the session ended, a general removal would be made: but it happened otherwise: for not only few or none were turned out, but much deliberation was used in supplying common vacancies by death. This manner of proceeding, in a prime minister, I confess, appeared to me wholly unaccountable, and without example; and I was little satisfied with the solution I had heard, and partly knew, that he acted thus to keep men at his devotion, by letting expectation lie in common; for I found the effect did not answer; and that in the mean time he led so uneasy a life, by solicitations and pursuits, as no man would endure, who had a remedy at hand. About the beginning of his ministry, I did, at the request of several considerable persons, take the liberty of representing this matter to him. His answer was short and cold; that he hoped his friends would trust him; that he heartily wished that none, but those who loved the church and queen, were employed, but that all could not be done on a sudden. I have reason to believe, that his nearest acquaintance were then wholly at a loss what to think of his conduct. He was forced to preserve the opinion of power, without which he could not act; while, in reality, he had little or none; and besides, he thought it became him to take the burden of reproach upon himself, rather than lay it upon the queen, his mistress, who was grown very positive, slow, and suspicious; and from the opinion of having been formerly too much directed, fell into the other extreme, and became difficult to be advised. So that few ministers had ever perhaps a harder game to play, between the jealousy and discontents of his friends on one side, and the management of the queen's temper on the other." In another part of the same tract, there is a passage to the same effect. "Upon Mr. Harley's recovery, which was soon followed by his promotion to an earldom, and the treasurer's staff, he was earnestly pressed to go on with the change of employments, for which his friends and the kingdom were very impatient; wherein I am confident he was not unwilling to comply, if a new incident had not put farther difficulties in his way. The queen, having thought fit to take the key from the duchess of Marlborough, it was, after some time, given to another great lady (the duchess of Somerset) wholly in the interests of the opposite party; who, by a most obsequious behaviour, of which she is a perfect mistress, and the privilege of her place, which gave her continual access, quickly won so far upon the affections of her majesty, that she had more personal credit than all the queen's servants put together. Of this lady's character and story, having spoken so much in other papers, which may one day see the light, I shall only observe, that as soon as she was fixed in her station, the queen, following the course of her own nature, grew daily more difficult, and uncomplying. Some weak endeavours were indeed used to divert her majesty from this choice; but she continued steady, and pleaded, that if she might not have the liberty of choosing her own servants, she could not see what advantage she had gotten by the change of her ministry: and so little was her heart set upon what they call a high church, or tory administration, that several employments in court and country, and a great majority in all commissions, remained in the hands of those who most opposed the present proceedings." And, as a farther confirmation of the queen's disposition in this respect, he says, in the second part of the above tract, "Her only objection against several clergymen, recommended to her for promotions in the church, was their being too violent in party. And a lady[15] in high favour with her, has frequently assured me, that ever she moved the queen to discard some persons, who, upon all occasions, with great virulence, opposed the court, her majesty would constantly refuse, and at the same time condemn her for too much party-zeal." Such being the queen's system of conduct, it is evident that Swift must have been more obnoxious to her than any man living, as he was the most unwearied in his endeavours to counteract her views, by rooting out the whigs entirely, and therefore she must constantly have looked upon him with an evil eye. But when at last he made a direct artempt to get her to discharge her favourite, the duchess of Somerset, in a copy of verses addressed to the queen, the most bitter, with regard to the duchess, perhaps, that ever was penned, called The Windsor Prophecy; the queen gave evident marks of her displeasure, and took afterward an opportunity of showing her resentment to the author, by proclaiming a reward of three hundred pounds for discovering the author of a pamphlet, called The Public Spirit of the Whigs, which she knew to have been written by Swift, in support of the ministry. This fact he has commemorated, in a copy of verses on himself, where, speaking of the duchess of Somerset, he says,


From her red locks her mouth with venom fills,
And thence into the royal ear instils.
The queen incens'd, his services forgot,
Leaves him a victim to the vengeful Scot:
Now thro' the realm a proclamation spread.
To fix a price on his devoted head:
While innocent, he scorns ignoble flight.
His watchful friends preserve him by a sleight.

And in the Preface to his History of the Four last Years of Queen Anne, he says, "I was so far from having any obligation to the crown, that, on the contrary, her majesty issued a proclamation, offering three hundred pounds to any person who would discover the author of a certain short treatise, which the queen well knew to have been written by me."

From all that has been offered upon this head, we may clearly deduce the reason why Swift remained such a length of time without any promotion, and may fairly exonerate lord Oxford from the charges made against him on that score. It is now evident, though before it was a secret to the world, that he had by no means that degree of power which he was supposed to enjoy, in any matter whatever; but in any point that did not fall in with her majesty's pleasure, he had none at all, much less therefore in such as she was set against. Among which number, that of the promotion of Dr. Swift, for the reasons abovementioned, seems to have been one. If, as he has related, "Her only objection against several clergymen, recommended to her for promotions in the church, was their being too violent in party;" how much more strongly must this have operated with regard to him, whose zeal in the cause he had espoused, transported him so beyond all bounds of moderation, as to keep no measures even with her, though he well knew her disposition. Of this he gave a strong proof in the Windsor Prophecy; the tendency of which was, to prevail on her majesty to remove the duchess of Somerset, the patroness of the whig cause, by the most bitter invectives on her character, from her post; and to receive Mrs. Masham, who was equally attached to the tory interest, in her place. He was so indiscreet as to give orders for the publication of that piece, which would have been done, had not Mrs. Masham prevented it. Of this he gives the following account, in his Journal of December 1711. "I called at noon at Mrs. Masham's, who desired me not to let the Prophecy be published, for fear of angering the queen about the duchess of Somerset; so I wrote to the printer to stop them. They have been printed, and given about, but not sold." And a little lower, he says, "I entertained our society at the Thatch'd House tavern to day at dinner; but brother Bathurst sent for wine, the house affording none. The printer had not received my letter, and so he brought us a dozen apiece of the Prophecy; but I ordered him to part with no more. 'Tis an admirable good one, and people are mad for it." As this society consisted of sixteen, we here see there was a sufficient number got abroad, to have it generally spread; so that it was no difficult matter for the duchess to procure a copy, which she kept by her in petto, till she should find a convenient season for wreaking her revenge. This soon offered itself, when he was recommended to the queen for a vacant bishoprick, from which he was precluded by the duchess, in the manner before related. Whoever reads that Prophecy, is acquainted with the queen's disposition, and knows the ascendency which the duchess maintained over her to the last, will not wonder that Swift remained so long without any promotion. That lord Oxford was solicitous for his friend's preferment, appears from his recommending him so early to a bishoprick, which was a fact of general notoriety at that time, and since confirmed to me by good authority. And the reasons are now equally obvious, why it was not in the lord treasurer's power to promote him afterward; though it is probable that he studiously concealed this from Swift, as he might think the discovery of his inability to serve him might have sent him back to his willows, at a time when he most needed his assistance. But to make him amends, he showed him every personal kindness in his power, provided for all whom he recommended, and never, as Swift himself declares, refused him any thing that he asked.

In this situation Swift remained during the space of two years and a half, from his first acquaintance with the ministry; often declaring to Stella, that he was weary of the scene in which he was engaged, and of the part which he took in it; frequently expressing an earnest desire of returning to his former situation, and declaring as often, that nothing restrained him from doing it, but that he thought himself obliged, both in honour and duty, not to desert the cause in which he was engaged, and of which he was the great champion, till he had done every thing in his power toward the establishment and support of it. When therefore he had nearly finished his History of the Peace of Utrecht, which was the last work he proposed on the subject, he determined to stay no longer, unless something honourable were done for him. At this juncture, there happened to be vacant three deaneries in Ireland, and a canonry of Windsor, with some other church preferments in England. Swift therefore silently resolved, if there were no notice taken of him on this occasion, to return to Laracor, and have done with courts for ever. The account we have of this in his Journal, written to the hour, will best represent to us his state of mind at that time. Journal, April 13, 1713. "This morning my friend Mr. Lewis came to me, and showed me an order for a warrant for the three vacant deaneries, but none of them to me. This was what I always foresaw, and received the notice of it better, I believe, than he expected. I bid Mr. Lewis tell my lord treasurer, that I take nothing ill of him, but his not giving me timely notice, as he promised to do, if he found the queen would do nothing for me. At noon, lord treasurer hearing I was in Mr. Lewis's office, came to me, and said many things too long to repeat. I told him, I had nothing to do but go to Ireland immediately, for I could not, with any reputation, stay longer here, unless I had something honourable immediately given to me. We dined together at the duke of Ormond's. He there told me he had stopped the warrants for the deans, that what was done for me might be at the same time, and he hoped to compass it to-night; but I believe him not. I told the duke of Ormond my intentions. He is content Sterne should be a bishop, and I have St. Patrick's, but I believe nothing will come of it, for stay I will not; and so I believe you will see me in Dublin before April ends. I am less out of humour than you would imagine; and if it were not that impertinent people would condole with me, as they used to give me joy, I would value it less. But I still avoid company, and muster up my baggage, and send them next Monday by the carrier to Chester, and go see my willows, against the expectation of all the world.

"14th. I dined in the city to day, and ordered a lodging to be got ready for me, against I came to pack up my things; for I will leave this end of the town as soon as ever the warrants for the deaneries are out, which are yet stopped. Lord treasurer told Lewis that it should be determined to night; and so he will say a hundred nights; so he said yesterday, but I value it not. My daily journals shall be but short, till I get into the city, and then I will send away this, and follow it myself; I design to walk it all the way to Chester, my man and I, by ten miles a day. It will do my health a great deal of good. I shall do it in fourteen days.

"15th. Lord Bolingbrokemade me dine with him to day (I was as good company as ever) and told me the queen would determine something for me to night. The dispute is Windsor, or St. Patrick's. I told him I would not stay for their disputes, and he thought I was in the right. Lord Masham told me, that lady Masham is angry I have not been to see her since this business, and desires I will come to morrow.

"16th. I was this noon at lady Masham's, who was just come from Kensington, where her eldest son is sick. She said much to me of what she had talked to the queen, and lord treasurer. The poor lady fell a shedding of tears openly. She could not bear to think of my having St. Patrick's, &c. I was never more moved than to see so much friendship. I would not stay with her, but went and dined with Dr. Arbuthnot, with Mr. Berkeley, one of your fellows, whom I have recommended to the doctor, &c. Mr. Lewis tells me, that the duke of Ormond has been to day with the queen, and she was content that Dr. Sterne should be bishop of Dromore, and I dean of St. Patrick's; but then out came lord treasurer, and said, that he would not be satisfied, but that I must be a prebendary of Windsor. Thus he perlexes things. I expect neither; but I confess, as much as I love England, I am so angry at this treatment, that if I had my choice, I would rather have St. Patrick's. Lady Masham says, she will speak to the purpose to the queen to morrow.

"17th. I went to dine at lady Masham's to day, and she was taken ill of a sore throat, and is aguish. She spoke to the queen last night, but had not much time. The queen says, she will determine to morrow with lord treasurer. The warrants for the deaneries are still stopped, for fear I should be gone. Do you think any thing will be done? I don't care whether there is or no. In the mean time, I prepare for my journey, and see no great people, nor will see lord treasurer any more, if I go. Lord treasurer told Mr. Lewis it should be done to night, so he said five nights ago.

"18th. This morning Mr. Lewis sent me word, that lord treasurer told him the queen would determine at noon. At three, lord treasurer sent to me to come to his lodgings at St. James's, and told me, the queen was at last resolved that Dr. Sterne should be bishop of Dromore, and I, dean of St. Patrick's, and that Sterne's warrant should be drawn immediately. You know the deanery is in the duke of Ormond's gift; but this is concerted between the queen, lord treasurer, and duke of Ormond, to make room for me. I do not know whether it will yet be done; some unlucky accident may yet come. Neither can I feel joy at passing my days in Ireland; and I confess I thought the ministry would not let me go; but perhaps they cannot help it.

"19th. I forgot to tell you, that lord treasurer forced me to dine with him yesterday, as usual, with his Saturday company, which I did, after frequent refusals. To day I dined with a private friend, and was not at court. After dinner, Mr. Lewis sent me word, that the queen stayed till she knew whether the duke of Ormond approved of Sterne for a bishop. I went this evening, and found the duke of Ormond at the Cockpit, and told him, and desired he would go to the queen, and approve of Sterne. He made objections, and desired I would name any other deanery, for he did not like Sterne; that Sterne never went to see him; that he was influenced by the archbishop of Dublin, &c. so all is now broken again, I sent out for lord treasurer, and told him this. He says, all will do well; but I value not what he says. This suspense vexes me worse than any thing else.

"20th. I went to day, by appointment, to the Cockpit, to talk with the duke of Ormond. He repeated the same proposals of any other deanery, &c. I desired he would put me out of the case, and do as he pleased. Then, with great kindness, he said he would consent; but would do it for no man else but me, &c. And so perhaps something will come of it. I can't tell.

"21st. The duke of Ormond has told the queen, he is satisfied Sterne should be bishop, and she consents I shall be dean; and I suppose warrants will be drawn in a day or two. I dined at an alehouse with Parnell and Berkeley; for I am not in a humour to go among the ministers, though lord Dartmouth invited me to dine with him to day, and lord treasurer was to be there. I said I would, if I were out of suspense.

"22d. The queen says, the warrants shall be drawn, but she will dispose of all in England and Ireland at once, to be teased no more. This will delay it some time, and while it is delayed, I am not sure of the queen, my enemies being busy. I hate this suspense.

"23d. I dined yesterday with general Hamilton: I forgot to tell you. I write short Journals now. I have eggs on the spit. This night the queen has signed all the warrants, among which, Sterne is bishop of Dromore; (and the duke of Ormond is to send over an order for making me dean of St. Patrick's. I have no doubt of him at all. I think tis now past. But you see what a condition I am in. I thought I was to pay but six hundred pounds for the house, but the bishop of Clogher says eight hundred pounds; first fruits, about one hundred and fifty pounds Irish; and so with a patent, &c. a thousand pounds in all; so that I shall not be the better for the deanery these three years. I hope, in some time, they will be persuaded here to give me some money to pay off these debts. I must finish the book I am writing, before I can go over; and they expect I shall pass next winter here, and then I will drive them to give me a sum of money. However, I hope to pass four or five months with you. I received your's to night; just ten weeks since I had your last. I shall write next post to bishop Sterne. Never man had so many enemies of Ireland as he. I carried it with the strongest hand possible. If he does not use me well, and gently, in what dealings I shall have with him, he will be the most ungrateful of mankind. The archbishop of York, my mortal enemy, has sent, by a third hand, that he would be glad to see me. Shall I see him or not? I hope to be over in a month. I shall answer your rattle soon; but no more Journals. I shall be very busy. Short letters from henceforward. I shall not part with Laracor; that is all I have to live on, except the deanery be worth more than four hundred pounds a year[16]. Is it? Pray write me a good humour'd letter immediately, let it be ever so short. This affair was carried with great difficulty, which vexes me. But they say here, it is much to my reputation, that I have made a bishop, in spite of all the world, and to get the best deanery in Ireland[17].

"26th. I was at court to day, and a thousand people gave me joy; so I ran out. I dined with lady Orkney. Yesterday I dined with lord treasurer, and his Saturday people, as usual; and was so be-dean'd, &c. The archbishop of York says he will never more speak against me."

From an examination of this extract, we shall clearly see, that the great obstacle to Swift's preferment, was the prejudice conceived against him by the queen, and not any neglect or want of friendship in the ministry. He seems to have been himself of this opinion, where he says, upon finding that none of the deaneries were given to him, "I bid Mr. Lewis tell my lord treasurer, that I take nothing ill of him, but his not giving me timely notice, as he promised to do, if he found the queen would do nothing for me."

And afterward, in the progress of this affair, he expresses his suspicion more strongly in that point, where he says, "This will delay it some time, and while it is delayed, I am not sure of the queen, my enemies being busy. I hate this suspense." It is evident also, that the lord treasurer, upon hearing Swift's declaration to Mr. Lewis, was greatly alarmed, and began to bestir himself with all his might. The warrants for the deans were immediately stopped, to prevent Swift's departing, as he threatened he would. And though the affair was not carried on with that dispatch, which Swift's impatience required, yet it is evident, the treasurer was exerting his utmost endeavours to accomplish the point for him in his own way. He was by no means satisfied that his friend should be sent to Ireland, and was therefore using all his influence to get him a canonry of Windsor, which he knew also would be much more agreeable to him. The affair of the deanery was easily settled, as we see from the following passage in the Journal: "Mr. Lewis tells me, that the duke of Ormond has been to day with the queen, and she was content that Dr. Sterne should be bishop of Dromore, and I, dean of St. Patrick's; but then out came lord treasurer, and said, he would not be satisfied, but that I must be a prebendary of Windsor. Thus he perplexes things," &c. In the whole progress of this affair, Swift speaks peevishly of the lord treasurer, and, with all the captiousness of a jealous lover, who will not come to an explanation. The treasurer was really exerting all his endeavours to serve his friend, in the way which he knew would be most agreeable to him; though, according to his usual reserve, he did not care to inform him of the difficulties in his way. And Swift, who was too proud to inquire into this, suspected him either of want of zeal, or indulging his usual procrastination, which is obvious, from all the expressions relative to him in the above quotations. But the truth of the whole matter appears to be this: The queen was willing enough that Swift should have a moderate provision made for him in Ireland, in order to send him into banishment, in a decent, though not very honourable manner. And the minister, on the other hand, wanted to keep him with him at all events. We find, with regard to the Windsor promotion, the queen continued inflexible, not only against the solicitations of the treasurer, but of lady Masham, who was her nearest favourite, after the duchess of Somerset. How zealous that lady was in his cause, may be seen in a passage of the above quotation, where, speaking of her, he says, "She said much to me of what she had talked to the queen, and lord treasurer. The poor lady fell a shedding of tears openly. She could not bear to think of my having St. Patrick's;" &c.

We find afterward, when the lord treasurer saw that the queen was obstinate with regard to this point, there was another bar thrown in the way of Swift's promotion in Ireland, probably contrived between him and the duke of Ormond; which was, that the duke should demur against Sterne's being made a bishop; nor can this change in the duke of Ormond, when he had before consented to Sterne's promotion, be rationally accounted for in any other way. This probably was the treasurer's last effort, to oblige the queen to do something for Swift in England; but when Swift himself continued resolute in the other point, probably on a suspicion, that the queen could not be wrought upon to prefer him in England, and urged the duke of Ormond to the accomplishment of it, and upon his demurring, expressed himself resentfully; the duke, who loved Swift sincerely, could stand it no longer, but as Swift mentions in the Journal, "with great kindness, he said he would consent, but would do it for no man else but me," &c.

But there is one circumstance in this transaction, that seems very unaccountable; which is, that Swift was not immediately made bishop of Clogher, instead of dean of St. Patrick's. We do not find, that Dr. Sterne had one friend in the world to recommend him, but Swift himself. On the contrary, we see he was obnoxious to the ministry, but particularly so to the duke of Ormond, then lord lieutenant of Ireland, who was chiefly to be consulted in the disposal of preferments there. When it comes to the push, the only objection the duke offers to Swift's getting St. Patrick's, is his dislike of Sterne, and the reluctance he shows at his being promoted to a bishoprick. Now, was not this difficulty easily smoothed away, by making Swift at once bishop of Clogher? And would not the ministry have been all much better pleased to place him in that see, than a man who was at best indifferent to them, but certainly obnoxious to some, and those the principal among them? It may therefore be surmised, that this was a point not attempted, because they were sure the queen would never consent to make him a bishop, while her displeasure continued so high against him, though she was willing to send him into exile, in so moderate a station, as that of dean, even at the expense of promoting a man of no weight or consideration, to a higher station, to make room for him. And the ministry certainly showed the greatest readiness to gratify him in any thing which he should desire, when they consented to the promotion of a man, whom they disliked, to make room for his preferment, in a way also which they did not approve of, merely because he made a point of it. So that, however small a recompense the deanery itself might have been considered for Swift's services, yet as there was a bishoprick bestowed at the same time, purely to make way for this, and to be charged wholly to his account, the ministry certainly cannot be taxed with a want of a due sense of his merits, and a suitable desire of rewarding them. And however out of humour he might be, where he says, "This affair was carried with great difficulty, which vexes me." Yet he very justly adds, "But they say here, it is much to my reputation, that I have made a bishop in spite of all the world, and to get the best deanery in Ireland." He afterward shows how entirely this was his work, against all opposition, where he says, "I shall write next post to bishop Sterne. Never man had so many mies of Ireland as he; I carried it with the strongest hand possible. If he does not use me well, and gently, in what dealings I shall have with him, he will be the most ungrateful of mankind."

In his whole account of this transaction, which exhibits a lively picture of his state of mind to the moment, he seems to have been much under the influence of humour. Though he was conscious that the queen herself was the chief bar to his promotion, yet he speaks as peevishly of the treasurer, as if the sole blame lay with him. At one time he seems earnest about obtaining St. Patrick's, and is angry with the treasurer for putting any rub in the way, though in favour of another measure, which would certainly have pleased him more. When he mentions the queen's having consented to Swift's arrangement of the bishoprick and deanery, he adds, much out of humour, "but then out came lord treasurer, and said he would not be satisfied, but that I must be a prebendary of Windsor. Thus he perplexes things. I expect neither; but I confess, as much as I love England, I am so angry at this treatment, that if I had my choice, I would rather have St. Patrick's." And yet in his Journal of the 18th, the day but one after this, when he learns from the treasurer, that the queen was at last resolved upon the arrangement proposed, he says, "Neither can I feel joy at passing my days in Ireland, and I confess I thought the ministry would not let me go; but perhaps they cannot help it. How contrary is this to his former declaration! But in the whole of this affair, Swift seems to have been deserted by his usual firmness of mind, and to have acted with the frowardness of an humoursome child, who either does not know his own mind, or will not tell it; and yet expects that others should find it out, and do what he wants.

Another reason for his not desiring to procure the bishoprick for himself, might perhaps arise from his supposing, that this might be considered as a full equivalent for his services, and the ne plus ultra of his preferment, to the exclusion of all future prospects in England, where all his wishes centred. But I am persuaded, that the chief motive to his extraordinary conduct on this occasion, and his so pertinaciously adhering to that particular mode, and no other, of providing for him, in opposition to the desire of his best friends, and particularly of the duke of Ormond, was, that he had promised to make Sterne a bishop the first opportunity. As he was remarkably tenacious of his word, he was determined to keep it on this occasion, though he seems, by some expressions, not to have looked upon Sterne as his friend, but rather to have resentment against him, on account of some ill treatment received at his hands[18]. In his Journal to Stella, October 28, 1712, he says, "I had a letter to day from Dr. Coghill, desiring me to get Raphoe for dean Sterne, and the deanery for myself. I shall indeed, I have such obligations to Sterne. But, however, if I am asked who will make a good bishop, I shall name him before any body."

In the February following, he says, in the same Journal, "I did not write to Dr. Coghill, that I would have nothing in Ireland, but that I was soliciting nothing any where, and this is true. I have named Dr. Sterne to lord treasurer, lord Bolingbroke, and the duke of Ormond, for a bishoprick, and I did it heartily. I know not what will come of it; but I tell you, as a great secret, that I have made the duke of Ormond promise me to recommend no body till he tells me, and this for some reasons, too long to mention."

While the matter was in agitation, he thus writes to Stella, on the 7th of the March following: "I write by this post to the dean, but it is not above two lines; and one enclosed to you is not above three lines; and in that one enclosed to the dean, which he must not have, but on condition of burning it immediately after reading, and that before your eyes; for there are some things in it I would not have liable to accidents. You shall only know in general, that it is an account of what I have done to serve him, in his pretensions on these vacancies, &c. but he must not know, that you know so much."

It is evident, from some of the above quotations, that Swift was far from having any cordial regard for Sterne, and that he had thought himself, on some occasions, to have been ill treated by him. Nothing therefore can, in my opinion, account for his obstinate perseverance in making him a bishop, in spite of all the world, as he himself expresses it, but the sacredness of an engagement.

Whatever ill opinion Swift had formed of Sterne before, was thoroughly confirmed by his very ungrateful behaviour to him, immediately after he had made him a bishop. In his Journal of May 16, he writes thus: "Your new bishop acts very ungratefully. I cannot say so bad of him as he deserves. I begged, by the same post his warrant and mine went over, that he would leave those livings to my disposal. I shall write this post to him, to let him know how ill I take it[19]."

  1. At this time, and during his connexion with the ministry afterward, Swift kept a regular journal of all the most remarkable events, as well as little anecdotes, which he transmitted every fortnight to Stella, for her private perusal, and that of Mrs. Dingley, but upon condition that it should be communicated to no other person whatsoever. This journal was luckily preserved, and sometime since given to the world. As nothing could better show Swift's own sentiments with regard to affairs at that time, and the motives which induced him to take the part he did in them, than such a journal, written as it were to the hour, and transmitted to that person in the world to whom his heart was most open; the account of his conduct, during that busy time, will, wherever there is an opportunity, be corroborated by extracts from it.
  2. Stella.
  3. This is a sort of cipher, in which, to disguise the words, superflous letters are introduced; and the way to read it is to pass over those letters, and retain only such as will make out words and sense, in the following manner, where the letters to be retained are capitals. Al BsAdNnK lBoInLpt dFaOnR uFaInFbToY dPeOnUrNaD. That is, A Bank Bill for fifty pound.
  4. In a subsequent part of the Journal to Stella, he says, "Don't you remember how I used to be in pain, when sir William Temple would look cold and out of humour for three or four days, and I used to suspect a hundred reasons? I have plucked up my spirit since then, faith; he spoiled a fine gentleman."
  5. Swift, in a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, says, "I take the safety of the present ministry to consist in the agreement of three great men, lord keeper, lord treasurer, and Mr. secretary; and so I have told them together, between jest and earnest, and two of them separately, with more earnestness."
  6. In a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, Swift says, "You know the duchess of Somerset is a great favourite, and has got the duchess of Marlborough's key. She is insinuating, and a woman of intrigue; and will, I believe, do what ill offices she can to the secretary."
  7. In a letter to the archbishop of Dublin, dated from Ireland, he says, "If your grace goeth to London from the Bath, I believe I may have the honour of waiting on you, although I shall do all in my power to save the trouble of such a journey, which neither my fortune nor my health will very well bear."
  8. Vid., Swift's letter to the late earl of Oxford.
  9. Swift's verses on himself.
  10. Letter to Pope.
  11. What obligation Swift had to that lord, and his party, may be seen by his indorsement on the following letter, received from lord Halifax.

    SIR,
    October 6, 1709.

    My friend, Mr. Addison, telling me that he was to write to you tonight, I could not let his packet go away, without telling you how much I am concerned to find them return without you. I am quite ashamed for myself and my friends, to see you left in a place so incapable of tasting you; and to see so much merit, and so great qualities, unrewarded by those who are sensible of them. Mr. Addison and I are entered into a new confederacy, never to give over the pursuit, nor to cease reminding those who can serve you, till your worth is placed in that light it ought to shine: Dr. South holds out still, but he cannot be immort.... The situation of his prebend would make me doubly concerned in serving you. And upon all occasions that shall offer, I will be your constant solicitor, your sincere admirer, and your unalterable friend. I am your most humble and obedient servant,Halifax.

    Thus indorsed by Swift. I kept this letter as a true original of courtiers, and court promises. And in the first leaf of a small printed book, entitled, "Poesies Chrétiennes de Mons. Jolivet," he wrote these words, "Given me by my lord Halifax, May 3, 1709. "I begged it of him, and desired him to remember, it was the only favour I ever received from him or his party."

  12. A cousin german of Swift, whom he held in the utmost contempt.
  13. As an instance of this, he says, in his Journal of November 1711, "I am sorry I sent you the Examiner, for the printer is going to print them in a small volume. It seems the author is too proud, to have them printed by subscription, though his friends offered, they say, to make it worth five hundred pounds to him."
  14. By M. D. is generally meant Stella, though sometimes it stands for Stella and Mrs. Dingley.
  15. Lady Masham.
  16. This deanery was worth more than seven hundred.
  17. The most considerable in point of rank, but not income.
  18. The cause of his resentment is thus set forth, in a letter to Sterne, then bishop of Clogher, dated July 1733. "When I first came acquainted with you, we were both private clergymen in a neighbourhood: you were afterward chancellor of St. Patrick's, then was chosen dean; in which election, I was the most busy of all your solicitors. When the compromise was made between the government and you, to make you easy, and Dr. Synge chancellor, you absolutely and frequently promised to give me the curacy[*] of St. Nicholas Without: you thought fit, by concert with the archbishop, to hold it yourself, and apply the revenue to build another church. Upon the queen's death, when I had done for ever with courts, I returned to reside at my post, yet with some kind of hopes of getting some credit with you, very unwisely; because upon the affair of St. Nicholas, I had told you frankly, 'That I would always respect you, but never hope for the least friendship from you.'
    *  Though this be called a curacy, yet it is in reality a living of considerable value.
  19. Swift had afterward cause to complain farther of his ingratitude, where he says to him in a letter, dated 1733: "But trying to forget all former treatments, I came, like others, to your house, and since you were a bishop, have once or twice recommended persons to you, who were no relations or friends of mine, but merely for their general good character; which availed so little, that those very persons had the greatest share of your neglect."