Temple was a statesman and an excellent diplomatist; but he thought himself to be a great writer as well, and he entered into a literary controversy concerning the relative merits of the classics and modern literature.  Swift’s first notable work, The Battle of the Books, written at this time but not published, is a keen satire upon both parties in the controversy.  The first touch of bitterness shows itself here; for Swift was in a galling position for a man of his pride, knowing his intellectual superiority to the man who employed him, and yet being looked upon as a servant and eating at the servants’ table.  Thus he spent ten of the best years of his life in the pretty Moor Park, Surrey, growing more bitter each year and steadily cursing his fate.  Nevertheless he read and studied widely, and, after his position with Temple grew unbearable, quarreled with his patron, took orders, and entered the Church of England.  Some years later we find him settled in the little church of Laracor, Ireland,—­a country which he disliked intensely, but whither he went because no other “living” was open to him.

In Ireland, faithful to his church duties, Swift labored to better the condition of the unhappy people around him.  Never before had the poor of his parishes been so well cared for; but Swift chafed under his yoke, growing more and more irritated as he saw small men advanced to large positions, while he remained unnoticed in a little country church,—­largely because he was too proud and too blunt with those who might have advanced him.  While at Laracor he finished his Tale of a Tub, a satire on the various churches of the day, which was published in London with the Battle of the Books in 1704.  The work brought him into notice as the most powerful satirist of the age, and he soon gave up his church to enter the strife of party politics.  The cheap pamphlet was then the most powerful political weapon known; and as Swift had no equal at pamphlet writing, he soon became a veritable dictator.  For several years, especially from 1710 to 1713, Swift was one of the most important figures in London.  The Whigs feared the lash of his satire; the Tories feared to lose his support.  He was courted, flattered, cajoled on every side; but the use he made of his new power is sad to contemplate.  An unbearable arrogance took possession of him.  Lords, statesmen, even ladies were compelled to sue for his favor and to apologize for every fancied slight to his egoism.  It is at this time that he writes in his Journal to Stella:

Mr. Secretary told me the Duke of Buckingham had been talking much about me and desired my acquaintance.  I answered it could not be, for he had not yet made sufficient advances; then Shrewsbury said he thought the Duke was not used to make advances.  I said I could not help that, for I always expected advances in proportion to men’s quality, and more from a Duke than any other man.

Writing to the Duchess of Queensberry he says: