k's district embodied themselves in the Dean's
defence. Bettesworth declared in Parliament that Swift had deprived him
of twelve hundred pounds a year.

Swift was popular awhile by another mode of beneficence. He set aside
some hundreds to be lent in small sums to the poor, from five shillings,
I think, to five pounds. He took no interest, and only required that,
at repayment, a small fee should be given to the accountant, but he
required that the day of promised payment should be exactly kept. A
severe and punctilious temper is ill qualified for transactions with the
poor: the day was often broken, and the loan was not repaid. This might
have been easily foreseen; but for this Swift had made no provision of
patience or pity. He ordered his debtors to be sued. A severe creditor
has no popular character; what then was likely to be said of him who
employs the catchpoll under the appearance of charity? The clamour
against him was loud, and the resentment of the populace outrageous; he
was therefore forced to drop his scheme, and own the folly of expecting
punctuality from the poor.

His asperity continually increasing, condemned him to solitude; and
his resentment of solitude sharpened his asperity. He was not, however,
totally deserted; some men of learning, and some women of elegance,
often visited him; and he wrote from time to time either verse or prose:
of his verses he willingly gave copies, and is supposed to have felt no
discontent when he saw them printed. His favourite maxim was "Vive la
bagatelle:" he thought trifles a necessary part of life, and perhaps
found them necessary to himself. It seems impossible to him to be idle,
and his disorders made it difficult or dangerous to be long seriously
studious, or laboriously diligent. The love of ease is always gaining
upon age, and he had one temptation to petty amusements peculiar to
himself; whatever he did, he was sure to hear applauded; and such was
his predominance over all that approached, that all their applauses
were probably sincere. He that is much flattered soon learns to flatter
himself; we are commonly taught our duty by fear or shame, and how can
they act upon the man who hears nothing but his own praises? As his
years increased, his fits of giddiness and deafness grew more frequent,
and his deafness made conversation difficult; they grew likewise more
severe, till in 1736, as he was writing a poem called "The Legion Club,"
he was seized with a fit so p