they both recovered. When they were able to see company, Mathew and his friend attended them daily, and a close intimacy afterward ensued, as they found them men of probity, and of the best dispositions, except in this Quixotish idea of duelling, whereof they were now perfectly cured.
The dean was often applied to, to redress private grievances, by persons of whom he had no knowledge; and never failed to interpose his good offices, when the case was such as merited his attention. Among these he was particularly struck with that of a young gentleman in the college of the name of Fitzherbert; whose father, though a man of considerable estate, had treated him with great inhumanity, banishing him his house, and not affording him the common necessaries of life. The young man, driven almost to desperation, though he had no other acquaintance with Swift than that of seeing him sometimes at Dr. Sheridan's school, where he was bred, drew up so affecting a narrative of his case, and in such a masterly style, in a letter to the dean, as gave him a high opinion of his talents and genius, and rendered him an object well worthy of his protection. Accordingly he wrote to the father, who was a stranger to him, in very strong terms; highly extolling his son's abilities, and recommending him to his favour[1]. He waited for an answer to this letter from the father, before he could make a satisfactory reply to that of the son; but after some days had elapsed, the young man growing impatient of the dean's silence, resolved to second his first address in prose, by another in poetry, and sent him the following copy of verses:
- ↑ For this letter, see Vol. XIII. p. 172.
