Before going to London, Berkeley had been made a Fellow of Trinity, had been appointed to various college offices, and had taken orders.  He remained away from Dublin for about eight years, on leave frequently extended, writing in London, and traveling, teaching, and writing on the Continent.  On his return from his foreign travels in 1720 or 1721, he found society completely demoralized by the collapse of the South Sea bubble.  He was much depressed by the conditions around him, and sought to awaken the moral sense of the people by ’An Essay toward Preventing the Ruin of Great Britain.’  Returning to Dublin and resuming college duties, he was shortly made Dean of Dromore, and then Dean of Derry.  Hardly had he received these dignified appointments when he began planning to rid himself of them, being completely absorbed in a scheme for a University in the Bermudas, which should educate scholars, teachers, and ministers for the New World, to which his hope turned.  To this scheme he devoted himself for many years.  A singular occurrence, which released him from pecuniary cares, enabled him to give his time as well as his heart to the work.  Miss Vanhomrigh, the ‘Vanessa’ of Swift, upon her mother’s death, left London, and went to live in Ireland, to be near her beloved Dean; and there she was informed of Swift’s marriage to ‘Stella.’  The news killed her, but she revoked the will by which her fortune was bequeathed to Swift, and left one-half of it, or about L4,000, to Berkeley, whom she had met but once.  He must have “kept an atmosphere,” as Bagehot says of Francis Horner.

Going to London on fire with his great scheme, prepared to resign his deanery and cast in his lot with that of the proposed University, Berkeley wasted years in the effort to secure a charter and grant from the administration.  His enthusiasm and his fascinating manners effected much, and over and over again only the simplest formalities seemed necessary to success.  Only the will of Sir Robert Walpole stood in the way, but Walpole’s will sufficed.  At last, in September, 1728, tired of waiting at court, Berkeley, who had just married, sailed with three or four friends, including the artist Smibert, for Rhode Island, intending to await there the completion of his grant, and then proceed to Bermuda.  He bought a farm near Newport, and built a house which he called Whitehall, in which he lived for about three years, leaving a tradition of a benignant but retired and scholastic life.  Among the friends who were here drawn to him was the Rev. Samuel Johnson of Stratford, afterward the first President of King’s (now Columbia) College, with whom he corresponded during the remainder of his life, and through whom he was able to aid greatly the cause of education in America.

The Newport life was idyllic.  Berkeley wrote home that the winters were cooler than those of the South of Ireland, but not worse than he had known in Italy.  He brought over a good library, and read and wrote.  The principal work of this period, written in a romantic cleft in the rocks, was ‘Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher,’ in seven dialogues, directed especially against atheism.