solving not to return. For two days she kept her resolution; and in that time had more than a dozen visitors at her door, who inquired with great concern for her health, after the unhappy circumstance that had befallen her. The fact was, the Dean had gone round to his friends, and with a serious face deplored the misfortune that he himself had witnessed, that Mrs Whiteway had suddenly been seized with a fit of madness, and had been taken home in a most distracted state of mind. When he thought the deception had sufficiently worked, he called, and making her a silent bow, sat down. Mr Deane Swift was in the room; being at that time on a visit at Mrs Whiteway's. The Dean conversed with him for about ten minutes, without interchanging a word or a look with Mrs Whiteway. He then got up, looked kindly at Mrs Whiteway, and turning to my father, " Half this visit was to you, Sir." In uttering the word half, he glanced his eye at Mrs Whiteway, bowed to them both, and withdrew. Their cordiality was instantly renewed. The last scene was now rapidly approaching, and the stage darkened ere the curtain fell. From 1736, downward, the Dean's fits of periodical giddiness and deafness had returned with violence; he could neither enjoy conversation,nor amuse himself with writing; and an obstinate resolution which he had formed not to wear glasses, prevented him from reading. The following dismal letter to Mrs Whiteway, in 1740, is almost the last document which we possess of the celebrated Swift, as a rational and reflecting being. It awfully foretells the catastrophe which shortly after took place. "I have been very miserable all night, and to day extremely deaf and full of pain. I am so stupid and confounded, that I cannot express the mortification I am under both in body and mind. All I can say is, that I am not in torture; but I daily and hourly expect it. Pray let me know how your health is, and your family. I hardly understand one word I write. I am sure my days will be very few ; few and miserable they must be. I am, for those few days, Your's entirely, If I do not blunder, it is Saturday, J. SWIFT. His understanding having totally failed soon after these melancholy expressions of grief and affection, his first state was that of violent and furious lunacy. His estate was put under the management of trustees, and his person confided to the care of Dr Lyons, a respectable clergyman, curate to the Rev. Robert King, prebendary of Dunlavin, one of Swift's executors. This gentleman discharged his melancholy task with great fidelity, being much and gratefully attached to the object of his care. From a state of outrage. ous frenzy, aggravated by severe bodily suffering, *The most minute account of this melancholy period is given by Dr Delany. "In the beginning of the year 1741, his understanding was so much impaired, and his passions so greatly increased, that he was utterly incapable of conversation. Strangers were not permitted to approach him, and his friends found it necessary to have guardians appointed of his person and estate. Early in the year 1742, his reason was wholly subverted, and his rage became absolute madness. The last person whom he knew was Mrs Whiteway; * and the sight of her, when he knew her no longer, threw him into fits of rage so violent and dreadful, that she was forced to leave him; and the only act of kindness that remained in her power, was to call once or twice a week at the Deanery, inquire after his health, and see that proper care was taken of him. Sometimes she would steal a look at him when his back was toward her, but did not dare to venture into his sight. He would neither eat nor drink while the servant who brought him his provisions staid in the room. His meat which was served up ready cut, he would sometimes suffer to stand an hour upon the table before he would touch it; and at last he would eat it walking; for during this miserable state of his mind, it was his constant custom to walk ten hours a day. "In October 1742, after this frenzy had continued several months, his left eye swelled to the size of an egg, and the lid appeared to be so much inflamed and discoloured, that the surgeon expected it would mortify; several large boils also broke out on his arms and his body. The extreme pain of this tumour kept him waking near a month, and during one week it His first cousin. See a letter dated Nov. 8, 1735.-N. the illustrious Dean of St Patrick's sunk into the situation of a helpless changeling. In the course was with difficulty that five persons kept him, by mere force, from tearing out his eyes. Just before the tumour perfectly subsided, and the pain left him, he knew Mrs Whiteway, took her by the hand, and spoke to her with his former kindness: that day, and the following, he knew his physician and surgeon, and all his family, and appeared to have so far recovered his understanding and temper, that the surgeon was not without hopes he might once more enjoy society, and be amused with the company of his old friends. This hope, however, was but of short duration; for a few days afterward he sunk into a state of total insensibility, slept much, and could not, without great difficulty, be prevailed on to walk across the room. This was the effect of another bodily disease, his brain being loaded with water. Mr Stevens, an ingenious clergyman of his chapter, pronounced this to be the case during his illness, and upon opening his head it appeared that he was not mistaken; but though he often entreated the Dean's friends and physicians that his scull might be trepanned and the water discharged, no regard was paid to his opinion or advice. After the Dean had continued silent a whole year in this helpless state of idiocy, his housekeeper went into his room *The curiosity of strangers sometimes led them to see this extraordinary man in this state of living death. The father of one of the Editor's most intimate friends, was of the number. He was told that the servants privately took money for gratifying the curiosity of strangers, but declined to have recourse to that mode of gratifying his curiosity. He saw the Dean by means of a clergyman, (Dr Lyons probably); he was at that time totally unconscious of all that passed around him, a living wreck of humanity. of about three years, he is only known to have spoken once or twice. At length, when this aw on the 30th of November in the morning, telling him that it was his birth-day, and that bonefires and illuminations were preparing to celebrate it as usual; to this he immediately replied" It is all folly, they had better let it alone." He would often attempt to speak his mind, but could not recollect words to express his meaning; upon which he would shrug up his shoulders, shake his head, and sigh heartily. Among all kinds of smells, none offended him so much as the snuff of a candle. It happened that a young girl, the daugh ter of his housekeeper's relation, blew out a candle in his chamber; at which he knit his brows, looked angry, and said, "You are a little dirty slut!" He spoke no more of it; but seemed displeased with her the whole evening. Some other instances of short intervals of sensibility and rea. son, after his madness had ended in stupor, seem to prove that his disorder, whatever it was, had not destroyed, but only sus pended the powers of his mind. He was sometimes visited by Mr Deane Swift, a relation, and about Christmas, 1743, he seemed desirous to speak to him. Mr Swift then told him he came to dine with him; and Mrs Ridgeway the housekeeper, immediately said, "Won't you give Mr Swift a glass of wine, Sir?" To this he made no answer, but showed he understood the question, by shrugging up his shoulders, as he had been used to do, when he had a mind a friend should spend the evening with him, and which was as much as to say "you will ruin me in wine." Soon after he again endeavoured, with a good deal of pain, to find words; but at last, after many efforts, not being able, he fetched a deep sigh, and was afterwards silent. A few months after this, upon his housekeeper's removing a knife, as he was going to catch at it, he shrugged up his shoulders, and said, "I am what I am;" |