Yet while indulging in these follies, Swift learned to write well and became noted for a peculiar satirical style that afterward made him much feared by the government.

When the uncle who had first supported Swift had died, a second uncle and his son took up the burden.  At one time this cousin sent Swift quite a large sum of money, a fact which seemed to change the nature of the wild young spendthrift, who thereafter remained economical; in fact, he became niggardly in his saving.

Swift’s second degree from the University was earned creditably, and he was much pleased with the praise and respect with which he was received.  This was owing to two years of diligent study which he spent at the home of Sir William Temple, a leading statesman of the time and a distant relative by marriage of Swift’s mother.

Discouraged by his fruitless attempt to enter public life, he began to study for the ministry, and, ultimately, he received a church appointment, of which he wearied after a short experience.

Until 1710, he led a varied life, sometimes dependent upon his relatives, and at others making his way in various political positions.  From the date above he was embroiled in heated political controversies in which his bitter writings made him feared even by his friends and fiercely hated by his enemies.  But he steadily rose in power and influence, and when his party triumphed he was rewarded for his political services by being appointed dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in Ireland.

His appointment was exceedingly unpopular, even in Ireland, for few believed him at all suited for a position in the church, much less for one so high and important.  On the day he was installed, some bitter verses, of which the following are three, were found posted on the door of the cathedral: 

  To-day this temple gets a dean,
    Of parts and fame uncommon;
  Used both to pray and to profane,
    To serve both God and Mammon.

* * * * *

  This place he got by wit and rhyme,
    And many ways most odd;
  And might a bishop be in time,
    Did he believe in God.

* * * * *

  And now when’er his deanship dies,
    Upon his tomb be graven—­
  A man of God here buried lies,
    Who never thought of heaven.

Unfortunately there was too much truth in the charges against Swift’s character, and his career, in spite of his genius, is a pitiful one.  He was admired for his wit and brilliancy, and courted by the noble and powerful, but he was never able to gratify his ambitions, though he did secure many devoted friends.  From his disappointments he became moody, bitter and discontented.  This state of mind, together with other causes, finally broke his health, destroyed his mind and left him but the sad wreck of a brilliant manhood, and an old age of helpless imbecility.  Such a life has little that is attractive for anyone, but it does show us that even a brilliant intellect cannot save a man who persistently neglects to guard his character, and that fame does not always bring happiness.