idicule too, as a
man of his humour--above all an Englishman of his humour--certainly would,
he is afraid to use the poetical power which he really possessed; one
often fancies in reading him that he dares not be eloquent when he might;
that he does not speak above his voice, as if were, and the tone of
society.

His initiation into politics, his knowledge of business, his knowledge of
polite life, his acquaintance with literature even, which he could not
have pursued very sedulously during that reckless career at Dublin, Swift
got under the roof of Sir William Temple. He was fond of telling in
after-life what quantities of books he devoured there, and how King
William taught him to cut asparagus in the Dutch fashion. It was at Shene
and at Moor Park, with a salary of twenty pounds and a dinner at the upper
servants' table, that this great and lonely Swift passed a ten years'
apprenticeship--wore a cassock that was only not a livery--bent down a knee
as proud as Lucifer's to supplicate my lady's good graces, or run on his
honour's errands.(37) It was here, as he was writing at Temple's table, or
following his patron's walk, that he saw and heard the men who had
governed the great world--measured himself with them, looking up from his
silent corner, gauged their brains, weighed their wits, turned them, and
tried them, and marked them. Ah, what platitudes he must have heard! what
feeble jokes! what pompous commonplaces! what small men they must have
seemed under those enormous periwigs, to the swarthy, uncouth, silent
Irish secretary. I wonder whether it ever struck Temple that that Irishman
was his master? I suppose that dismal conviction did not present itself
under the ambrosial wig, or Temple could never have lived with Swift.
Swift sickened, rebelled, left the service--ate humble pie and came back
again; and so for ten years went on, gathering learning, swallowing scorn,
and submitting with a stealthy rage to his fortune.

Temple's style is the perfection of practised and easy good-breeding. If
he does not penetrate very deeply into a subject, he professes a very
gentlemanly acquaintance with it; if he makes rather a parade of Latin, it
was the custom of his day, as it was the custom for a gentleman to envelop
his head in a periwig and his hands in lace ruffles. If he wears buckles
and square-toed shoes, he steps in them with a consummate grace, and you
never hear their creak, or find them treading upon any lady's tr