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Grace After Dinner
A Dog's Religion
His Duel With Captain D'esterre
The Upstart
His Birth
A Certificate Of Marriage
Wisdom
A Mistaken Frenchman
A Courtier's Retort
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His Birth
His Reception At The Rotundo By The Volunteers
His Interview With Daniel Danser
An Insolent Judge
His Defence Of Archibald Hamilton Rowan
His Person And Mode Of Argument
Preaching Patriotism
His Saturnalia
Verses By Swift On The Occasion
His Habits Of Study--his Influence


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The Prince Of Wales
A Beggar's Wedding
To The Landlord
On The Same Upright Chief Justice Whitshed
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O'leary And Captain Rock
His Duel With St Leger




The Upstart

Irish Humour Home






There was one character which, through life, always kindled Swift's
indignation, the haughty, presuming, tyrannizing upstart! A person of
this description chanced to reside in the parish of Laracor. Swift
omitted no opportunity of humbling his pride; but, as he was as ignorant
as insolent, he was obliged to accommodate the coarseness of the lash to
the callosity of the back. The following lines have been found written
by Swift upon this man:--

The rascal! that's too mild a name;
Does he forget from whence he came;
Has he forgot from whence he sprung;
A mushroom in a bed of dung;
A maggot in a cake of fat,
The offspring of a beggar's brat.
As eels delight to creep in mud,
To eels we may compare his blood;
His blood in mud delights to run;
Witness his lazy, lousy son!
Puff'd up with pride and insolence,
Without a grain of common sense,
See with what consequence he stalks,
With what pomposity he talks;
See how the gaping crowd admire
The stupid blockhead and the liar.
How long shall vice triumphant reign?
How long shall mortals bend to gain?
How long shall virtue hide her face,
And leave her votaries in disgrace?
----Let indignation fire my strains,
Another villain yet remains--
Let purse-proud C----n next approach,
With what an air he mounts his coach!
A cart would best become the knave,
A dirty parasite and slave;
His heart in poison deeply dipt,
His tongue with oily accents tipt,
A smile still ready at command,
The pliant bow, the forehead bland----





Next: Meditation Upon A Broomstick

Previous: The Scriblerus Club



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