mong whom he had
passed some of the best years of his life, would have considered as a
paradise. His hermitage had been occasionally honoured by the presence
of the King, who had from a boy known and esteemed the author of the
Triple Alliance, and who was well pleased to find, among the heath and
furze of the wilds of Surrey, a spot which seemed to be part of Holland,
a straight canal, a terrace, rows of clipped trees, and rectangular beds
of flowers and potherbs.

Portland now repaired to this secluded abode and consulted the oracle.
Temple was decidedly of opinion that the bill ought to pass. He was
apprehensive that the reasons which led him to form this opinion might
not be fully and correctly reported to the King by Portland, who was
indeed as brave a soldier and as trusty a friend as ever lived, whose
natural abilities were not inconsiderable, and who, in some departments
of business, had great experience, but who was very imperfectly
acquainted with the history and constitution of England. As the state
of Sir William's health made it impossible for him to go himself to
Kensington, he determined to send his secretary thither. The secretary
was a poor scholar of four or five and twenty, under whose plain garb
and ungainly deportment were concealed some of the choicest gifts that
have ever been bestowed on any of the children of men; rare powers of
observation, brilliant wit, grotesque invention, humour of the most
austere flavour, yet exquisitely delicious, eloquence singularly pure,
manly and perspicuous. This young man was named Jonathan Swift. He was
born in Ireland, but would have thought himself insulted if he had been
called an Irishman. He was of unmixed English blood, and, through life,
regarded the aboriginal population of the island in which he first drew
breath as an alien and a servile caste. He had in the late reign kept
terms at the University of Dublin, but had been distinguished there only
by his irregularities, and had with difficulty obtained his degree. At
the time of the Revolution, he had, with many thousands of his fellow
colonists, taken refuge in the mother country from the violence of
Tyrconnel, and had thought himself fortunate in being able to obtain
shelter at Moor Park. [405] For that shelter, however, he had to pay
a heavy price. He was thought to be sufficiently remunerated for his
services with twenty pounds a year and his board. He dined at the second
table. Sometimes, indeed, when