d grew first ridiculous, and at last detestable. But
his avarice, though it might exclude pleasure, was never suffered to
encroach upon his virtue. He was frugal by inclination, but liberal
by principle: and if the purpose to which he destined his little
accumulations be remembered, with his distribution of occasional
charity, it will perhaps appear that he only liked one mode of expense
better than another, and saved merely that he might have something to
give. He did not grow rich by injuring his successors, but left both
Laracor and the Deanery more valuable than he found them. With all this
talk of his covetousness and generosity, it should be remembered that he
was never rich. The revenue of his Deanery was not much more than
seven hundred a year. His beneficence was not graced with tenderness or
civility; he relieved without pity, and assisted without kindness; so
that those who were fed by him could hardly love him. He made a rule to
himself to give but one piece at a time, and therefore always stored his
pocket with coins of different value. Whatever he did he seemed willing
to do in a manner peculiar to himself, without sufficiently considering
that singularity, as it implies a contempt of the general practice, is
a kind of defiance which justly provokes the hostility of ridicule; he,
therefore, who indulges peculiar habits, is worse than others, if he be
not better.

Of his humour, a story told by Pope may afford a specimen.

"Dr. Swift has an odd, blunt way, that is mistaken by strangers for ill
nature.--'Tis so odd, that there's no describing it but by facts. I'll
tell you one that first comes into my head. One evening Gay and I went
to see him: you know how intimately we were all acquainted. On our
coming in, 'Heyday, gentlemen' (says the doctor), 'what's the meaning of
this visit? How came you to leave the great Lords that you are so fond
of, to come hither to see a poor Dean?'--'Because we would rather see
you than any of them.'--'Ay, anyone that did not know so well as I do
might believe you. But since you are come, I must get some supper
for you, I suppose.'--'No, Doctor, we have supped already.'--'Supped
already? that's impossible! why, 'tis not eight o'clock yet: that's very
strange; but if you had not supped, I must have got something for you.
Let me see, what should I have had? A couple of lobsters; ay, that would
have done very well; two shillings--tarts, a shilling; but you will
drink a glass of