恰逢壬辰月丙子日，天干地支水火既济，气场流转兼具活力与沉稳，为十二生肖的事业运势铺就了差异化的发展基调。十二生肖作为传统命理文化的核心载体，对应不同地支五行，在当日时空能量的影响下图木舒克泡沫板橡塑板专用胶，事业机遇、挑战与发展向各有征兆。

子鼠对应地支 “子”，五行属水，天机敏灵动、思维活跃，擅长捕捉细节、把握机遇，在事业中多以智慧取胜、灵活应变见长。2026 丙午马年，子水与午火相冲，属鼠人全年事业运势波动较大，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子水当令，形成 “日禄归时” 的吉局，丙火又为子鼠正财，事业与财运迎来双重利好，是当月难得的事业光日。

职场表现上，当日子鼠精力充沛、精头十足，工作率较平日大幅提升，思维清晰且具洞察力，能快速梳理繁杂工作，抓住核心关键，轻松应对各类突发问题。上班族在团队中话语权提升，暗中有同事主动帮衬，此前积压的棘手任务可进收尾，绩表现亮眼，容易获得的关注与认可。对于从事创意、策划、文案、金融、物流等行业的属鼠人，当日灵感迸发，创意想法新颖到，提出的案易被采纳，甚至有机会主小型核心项目，展现个人业能力。

机遇契机面，当日属鼠人贵人运暗藏，职场中易遇低调务实的前辈或点拨，指点工作盲区与发展向，为后续职业晋升埋下伏笔。从事自由职业、自主创业的属鼠人，当日客源稳定，作洽谈顺利，容易对接优质客户，达成作意向，小众业也有小额收益入账。此外，当日适主动沟通对接，跨部门协作、对外业务拓展阻力较小，易取得突破进展。

潜在阻碍上，需警惕水过盛带来的急躁心态，部分属鼠人可能因急于求成，在细节处理上疏忽大意，致小失误频发，影响工作口碑。同时，职场中虽贵人助力多，但也需范小人暗中嫉妒，避随意泄露工作核心信息、谈论他人是非，止被人抓住把柄，引发不要的职场纠纷。

发展建议：当日宜保持机敏优势，主动出击、抓机遇，积汇报工作成果，争取多发展资源。工作中注重细节把控，戒骄戒躁图木舒克泡沫板橡塑板专用胶，避因急躁出错。拓展人脉时保持真诚低调，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业长远发展铺垫基础。

丑牛对应地支 “丑”，五行属土，天勤恳踏实、沉稳坚韧，做事严谨负责、吃苦耐劳，事业中奉行厚积薄发，靠日积月累的努力站稳脚跟。2026 丙午马年，丑午相害，属牛人全年事业运势 “先抑后扬”，易遇小人阻碍与人际摩擦，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子丑六，土厚气稳，丙火为丑牛正印，长辈、助力强劲，事业迎来稳中带升的利好局面。

职场表现上，当日丑牛延续贯的务实作风，工作态度认真严谨，做事有条不紊，能按部就班完成本职工作，质量与率兼具。对于从事行政、建筑、农业、教育、制造等行业的属牛人，当日工作进顺畅，熟悉的业务域易出成果，长期耕的工作内容迎来阶段回报。上班族在团队中是可靠的存在，交办的任务能放心交付，容易获得的信任与器重，有机会接触核心工作，展现扎实的业功底。

机遇契机面，当日属牛人贵人运盛，六之力加持下，易遇长辈、提携，可能迎来意想不到的晋升机会或重要项目委派，这是长期勤恳付出换来的回报。部分属牛人可能接到跨界作邀请或岗位调整通知，虽有挑战，但是突破职业瓶颈的佳契机。同时，当日适参与培训、学习进修，提升业技能，对长远职业发展助力大。

潜在阻碍上，丑牛天偏保守固执，当日可能因固守固有思维，不愿接受新事物、新法，错失创新发展的机遇。此外，虽整体人际和谐，但仍需范职场小人暗中使绊，避因固执己见与同事发生分歧，影响团队协作氛围。重要文件、同需反复核对，避因疏忽出现纰漏，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜放下保守心态，勇敢接受新任务、新挑战，灵活变通工作法，突破职业瓶颈。保持勤恳务实的作风，低调做事、踏实做人，妥善维护职场人际关系，远离是非纷争。主动向请教学习，把握贵人助力，为晋升发展创造有利条件。

寅虎对应地支 “寅”，五行属木，天勇猛果敢、自信张扬，行动力强，敢于突破常规、开拓创新，事业中自带气场，擅长把握风口机遇。2026 丙午马年，寅午三，属虎人全年事业运势顺势上扬，火力加持下才华与行动力爆发，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势余温未散，三之力仍在，事业运势延续盛态势，机遇与发展空间并存。

职场表现上，当日寅虎气场全开，行动力拉满，工作进有序，干劲十足，能快速攻克工作难点，此前积压的复杂任务可完成。上班族在团队中易成为核心人物，力凸显，能有协调团队成员，动项目落地，绩表现突出，金、提成有望足额甚至额到账。对于从事能源、餐饮、教育、销售、管理等行业的属虎人，当日木火相生，行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属虎人事业机遇不断，有外出对接、拓展业务的佳机会，适开拓新市场、发展新客户，跨界作成功率较。创业人士、企业经营者当日运势利好，适布局新项目、拓展新渠道，在火相关行业易实现营收大幅增长。此外，当日有机会接手核心新项目，展现个人能力，为后续薪资提升、职位晋升铺路。贵人运强劲，遇困难时易有贵人出手相助，指点迷津。

潜在阻碍上，当日需范天贼、地兵凶煞带来的阻碍，易出现工作突发状况，如作分歧、案临时变等，需提前做好应对准备。同时，属虎人天强势，当日可能因锋芒过露、过于自我，忽视同事建议，引发人际矛盾，甚至遭小人嫉妒，暗中制造阻碍。此外，核心信息易泄露，需做好保密工作，避因信息外泄造成损失。

发展建议：当日宜充分发挥果敢优势，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进新项目、新计划。做事保持低调谦逊，多倾听同事与前辈的建议，收敛锋芒，妥善处理职场人际关系。强化保密意识，谨慎处理核心工作信息，提前预判风险，从容应对突发状况。

卯兔对应地支 “卯”，五行属木，天温和儒雅、心思细腻，思维敏捷且具耐心，事业中擅长统筹规划、细致执行，追求平稳顺遂，不喜纷争。2026 丙午马年，卯木受午火克制，属兔人全年事业运势起伏不定，易遇瓶颈阻碍，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得玉堂、少微吉护佑，运势顺遂，事业迎来平稳利好期。

职场表现上，当日卯兔思路清晰、心态平和，做事且细致入微，能有条不紊地进各项工作，规避细节失误，工作质量。上班族擅长梳理工作脉络，理规划工作进度，不仅能顺利完成当日本职工作，还能处理额外事务，获得认可。对于从事文化、艺术、设计、行政、文秘、教育等行业的属兔人，当日细腻优势凸显，创意设计、文案撰写、资料整理等工作易出精品，工作成果备受肯定。

机遇契机面，当日属兔人事业稳步发展，虽重大突破，但能在平稳中积累成果，适梳理规划后续工作，为长远发展铺垫基础。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。部分属兔人有机会参与重要会议、项目研讨，展现个人见解，提升职场存在感。

潜在阻碍上，当日属兔人需避过于保守谨慎，因害怕出错而不敢尝试新事物、主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，不宜做重大决策，如跳槽、转行、创业等，当日运势平稳，重大决策易因考虑不周出现失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持细致的工作风格，稳扎稳进工作，积累经验与成果。适当破保守心态，在适时机主动展现个人能力，争取发展机遇。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，妥善维护自身职场权益，避卷入人际纷争。

辰龙对应地支 “辰”，五行属土，天尊贵大气、自信睿智，格局宏大、眼光长远，事业中自带强者气场，追求卓越成就，擅长掌控全局、引向。2026 丙午马年，辰土生午火，属龙人全年事业运势平稳向上，有机会展现才能，但易锋芒过露，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得三、武曲吉助力，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日辰龙气场沉稳，工作中展现出强的责任心与力，做事果断干练，决策，能有统筹各项工作，动项目有序进展。上班族在团队中是核心骨干，受信任，能立承担重要工作，虽重大突破，但稳步前行，工作成果稳步积累。对于从事管理、金融、地产、建筑、端制造等行业的属龙人，当日行业运势平稳，适耕本职、磨业能力，夯实事业基础。

机遇契机面，当日属龙人事业发展阻力较小，能得到同事、前辈的全力支持，进事宜顺风顺水，团队协作，易达成工作目标。适进升、业务优化等长期规划，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。部分属龙人有机会接触行业前沿资源，参与端项目作，拓宽事业格局。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕锋芒过露带来的负面影响，过于张扬强势易引发同事嫉妒，遭小人暗中诋毁，影响职场口碑。同时，属龙人眼光远，易忽视细节问题，在工作执行中可能因细节疏忽致小失误，影响工作成。此外，事业平稳期易产生懈怠心态，缺乏进取动力，致发展停滞不前。

发展建议：当日宜保持沉稳务实的作风，收敛锋芒、低调做事，多倾听他人建议，避过于强势引发人际矛盾。注重细节把控，兼顾全局与细节，提升工作质量。克服懈怠心态，树立长远目标，稳步进事业发展，积累实力等待机遇爆发。

巳蛇对应地支 “巳”，五行属火，天冷静睿智、心思缜密，洞察力强，擅长谋略策划、布局，事业中低调务实、暗藏锋芒，靠智慧与策略取胜。2026 丙午马年，巳午半，属蛇人全年事业运势强劲，贵人暗中相助，机遇源源不断，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火气相辅，运势利好，事业发展顺遂，机遇与挑战并存。

职场表现上，当日巳蛇头脑冷静、思维缜密，工作中具洞察力，能捕捉工作核心问题，提前预判风险，制定完善应对案。做事低调，不事张扬，默默进工作，总能在关键时刻展现惊人实力，工作成果令人刮目相看。对于从事金融、法律、科研、技术、策划、医疗等行业的属蛇人，当日业优势凸显，分析、技术攻关、案策划等工作易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属蛇人贵人运盛，有 “太阳” 星照拂，每当陷入困境时，总会有贵人及时出现提供助力，指点关键思路，化解工作难题。事业上适布局长线规划，开展长期作项目，与靠谱伙伴携手发展，成功率较。此外，当日适提升业技能，学习前沿知识，为职业晋升、事业拓展积蓄力量。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕小人环伺，身边不乏嫉妒者，流言蜚语与暗中压计并存，越是调张扬，越容易暴露自身破绽，给他人可乘之机。同时，属蛇人天多疑，当日可能因过度猜忌同事、作伙伴，影响团队信任，阻碍工作进。此外，工作中易因追求而过度纠结细节，致工作率降低。

发展建议：当日宜保持低调务实，收敛锋芒、谦逊做人，不与人争长短，远离是非纷争，注本职工作。放下多疑心态，学会信任他人，加强团队沟通协作，凝聚力进工作。平衡主义与工作率，聚焦核心目标，进事业发展。

午马对应地支 “午”，五行属火，天热情奔放、活力四射，行动力强，热自由、敢于拼搏，事业中充满激情与干劲，擅长开拓进取、突破创新。2026 丙午马年，属马人值太岁本命年，自刑影响下事业波动较大，阻碍重重，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势稍缓，运势回升，事业阻碍减少、机遇增多。

职场表现上，当日午马摆脱此前的低迷状态，活力回归，工作干劲十足，执行力变强，能快速响应工作任务，进各项事宜。上班族容易得到、前辈的关注，之前提交的案、进的项目，当日容易有积反馈，工作认可度提升。对于从事销售、传媒、体育、餐饮、旅游等行业的属马人，当日活力优势凸显，业务拓展、客户对接、活动策划等工作开展顺利。

机遇契机面，当日属马人贵人缘变好，遇到工作难题时，身边同事、前辈愿意伸手帮忙，指点关键思路，化解工作困境。适主动进工作，对接新客户、洽谈作细节，容易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，此前卡住的作项目有机会突破瓶颈。部分属马人有机会展现个人才华，获得晋升、调岗的契机。

潜在阻碍上，本命年值太岁的影响仍在，当日事业仍有波动，计划易被突发状况乱，需做好灵活应对的准备。属马人子急躁，当日可能因急于求成、缺乏耐心，在工作细节上处理不当，引发失误，或与同事发生口角冲突，影响人际和谐。此外，不宜贸然开展风险项目、盲目跨界转型，易因准备不足遭遇挫折。

发展建议：当日宜保持热情活力，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进工作，展现个人能力。克制急躁心态，做事沉稳耐心，注重细节把控，避因冲动出错。遇事灵活变通，提前制定备选案，从容应对突发状况；远离风险决策，稳守主业、稳步发展。

未羊对应地支 “未”，五行属土，天温和善良、谦逊有礼，心思细腻、富有同理心，事业中待人真诚、踏实肯干，擅长团队协作、稳中求进。2026 丙午马年，午未六，属羊人全年运势佳，是马年职场天选之子，贵人运强劲，事业路升，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，六之力加持，运势持续盛，事业机遇满满。

职场表现上，当日未羊心态平和、工作认真负责，做事细致周到，能完成本职工作，且待人真诚友善，受同事喜与赏识。在团队中是协调者的角，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量，动项目顺利落地。对于从事服务、文化、教育、公关、设计、公益等行业的属羊人，当日人脉优势凸显，靠口碑与人脉动事业发展，成显著。

机遇契机面，当日属羊人贵人主动上门，赏识、同事帮扶，核心资源自动靠拢，不用费力竞争，就能轻松获得晋升、调岗机会。作运爆棚，伙创业、对接项目成功率，适拓展作渠道，开展跨界作，事业发展空间大幅拓宽。此外，当日有机会参与优质项目，展现个人才华，提升职场地位。

潜在阻碍上，当日属羊人运势过，易滋生骄傲自满心态，做事变得松懈马虎，忽视细节问题，致工作质量下降。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇小人占成果、背后诋毁，需提警惕，学会保护自身权益。此外，机遇过多时易陷入选择困境，因犹豫不决错失佳机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持谦逊低调，戒骄戒躁，踏实做事、认真履职，珍惜来之不易的机遇。果断决策、把握核心机遇，避因犹豫不决错失发展良机。强化自我保护意识，范职场小人，妥善维护自身权益，注事业长远发展。

申猴对应地支 “申”，五行属金，天聪慧机敏、活泼灵动，思维敏捷、反应迅速，擅长创新突破、灵活应变，事业中才华横溢、创意十足，靠智慧与创意立足。2026 丙午马年，火克金，属猴人全年事业运势上半年竞争激烈，后期转强，靠业技能取胜，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水火制衡，运势平稳，事业稳步发展。

职场表现上，当日申猴思维活跃、创意满满，工作中具创新意识，能提出新颖特的想法与案，破常规思维，为工作注入新活力。做事灵活，善于应对突发状况，能快速调整工作思路，适应工作变化。对于从事互联网、科技、创意、传媒、销售、自媒体等行业的属猴人，当日创意优势凸显，创新项目、创意产品易获得市场认可，工作成果亮眼。

机遇契机面，当日属猴人事业发展平稳，适耕业技能，磨核心竞争力，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。有机会拓展兴趣业，凭借创意与才华获得额外收入，拓宽收入渠道。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猴人易因聪明过头而浮躁，做事缺乏耐心，浅尝辄止，难以耕细节，致工作成果不够扎实，难以立足。同时，创意过多易分散精力，难以聚焦核心目标，致工作率降低，影响事业发展进度。此外，职场中易因口遮拦、言语随意，得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。

发展建议：当日宜收敛浮躁心态，沉下心来耕本职工作，磨业技能，将创意转化为实实在在的工作成果。聚焦核心目标，理分配精力，避因创意过多分散注意力，提升工作率。谨言慎行，避随意谈论他人是非，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业发展营造良好环境。

酉鸡对应地支 “酉”，五行属金，天精明干练、认真严谨，观察力敏锐、执行力强，做事追求、注重细节，事业中勤奋踏实、责任心强，靠努力与严谨取胜。2026 丙午马年，七星，属鸡人全年事业有表现空间，但伴随是非竞争，需积成长，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，运势平稳，事业稳中求进。

职场表现上，当日酉鸡工作态度严谨认真，做事丝不苟，注重细节与率，能完成各项工作任务，质量。观察力敏锐，能快速发现工作中的问题与漏洞，及时整改完善，避失误扩大。对于从事财务、审计、质检、文秘、行政、技术等行业的属鸡人，当日严谨优势凸显，细致类工作易出成果，受信任。

机遇契机面，当日属鸡人事业稳步发展，适夯实事业基础，积累工作经验与人脉资源，为后续晋升发展铺垫。职场中勤奋踏实的表现易被看在眼里，有机会获得额外工作机会，展现个人能力。此外，当日适学习新技能、提升业素养，增强职场竞争力。

潜在阻碍上，当日属鸡人易因过于追求而对自己和他人过于苛刻，引发同事不满，影响团队协作氛围。同时，七星影响下，职场竞争激烈，易遭小人计、背后诋毁，工作成果易被质疑，需提警惕。此外，做事过于固执，不愿接受他人建议，易致工作思路僵化，错失创新机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持严谨认真的工作作风，踏实做事、认真履职，积累实力与人脉。学会宽容待人，适当降低对他人的要求，灵活变通工作法，加强团队沟通协作。范职场小人，低调做事、远离是非，注提升自身能力，以实力应对竞争。

戌狗对应地支 “戌”，五行属土，天忠诚正直、责任心强，善良勇敢、踏实可靠，事业中任劳任怨、勤恳付出，对工作尽职尽责，对团队忠诚二，靠诚信与担当立足。2026 丙午马年，寅午戌三，属狗人全年贵人扎堆，事业能见度飙升，有掌权、晋升机会，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，三之力加持，运势上升，事业机遇多多。

职场表现上，当日戌狗工作认真负责、勤恳踏实，做事任劳任怨、不斤斤计较，能全身心投入工作，完成交办的各项任务。在团队中是可靠的存在，忠诚正直，受同事信赖与器重，能获得团队成员的支持与认可。对于从事教育、能源、餐饮、公益、行政、安保等行业的属狗人，当日行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得不错成果。

机遇契机面，当日属狗人贵人运强劲，事业上有跨部门作、对外拓展的机会，易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，作项目进顺利。有机会获得晋升、掌权的契机，接手核心工作，展现个人力与责任心。此外，当日适参与行业交流活动，拓展人脉资源，为事业发展创造多机遇。

潜在阻碍上，当日属狗人易因过于忠诚正直、不懂变通，在复杂的职场环境中吃亏，被小人利用，或因直言不讳得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。同时，做事过于保守谨慎，缺乏冒险精，不敢主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。此外，工作中易因过于劳累、不懂劳逸结，致精力不足，影响工作率。

发展建议：当日宜保持忠诚正直的本，踏实做事、诚信待人，用实力与担当赢得认可。适当学会灵活变通，把握职场沟通技巧，避直言不讳得罪他人。破保守心态，主动争取发展机遇，敢于尝试新事物、新挑战；理安排工作与休息，保持充沛精力。

亥猪对应地支 “亥”，五行属水，天温和善良、豁达乐观，待人真诚、与世争，事业中踏实肯干、心态平和，不贪图名利、不喜纷争，靠沉稳与善良立足。2026 丙午马年，运势平稳大波动，适耕主业、磨技能，稳中求进，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水木相生，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。The affair dragged on, irresistible passion matched with immovable affection. Swift was Dean of St. Patrick’s, known to be the friend, and by some gossips thought to be the husband, of Stella, who, though she[Pg 163] did not live at the deanery, was the centre of such life as it had. He refused to give the world the least excuse for regarding Vanessa as his mistress. He smothered her with discretion, hating it yet unable to take a final stand at one extremity or another. When he had snubbed her long enough to put an end to any ordinary suit, he would turn kind, would insist upon his esteem and admiration, and so would once more rouse her. He could or would not learn that her love and his kindness were oil and water.

During the half-dozen dark years after he left the Court for Ireland he perversely relished the secret drama, whatever form it took, and let himself be drawn into various cautious meetings with Vanessa. When, towards the end of that eclipse, he began to be more thoroughly himself, he became less cautious. His whole nature, as if by some rejuvenation, expanded. He took up the cause of Ireland against the Whigs. He wrote verses, tender, intimate, teasing, to Stella. As if he thought the conflict between him and Vanessa was settled, he tried to get back to the old footing.

Instantly her desire flared up. “I here tell you,” she wrote to him, “that I have determined to try all manner of human arts to reclaim you.” He did what he could to laugh off her seriousness, even to praising the art with which she wrote. Nothing would now quiet her. His least kindness intoxicated her. When he told her to use assumed names in her letters, which he was[Pg 164] afraid might be opened, and dashes for “everything that may be said to Cad—— at beginning or conclusion,” she was suddenly in raptures over sharing secrets with him. “—— —— —— —— Cad——, you are good beyond expression, and I will never quarrel again if I can help it.” Swift did not take warning.

“What would you give,” he asked her in August 1720, “to have the history of Cad—— and —— exactly written, through all its steps, from the beginning to this time? I believe it would do well in verse, and be as long as the other. I hope it will be done. It ought to be an exact chronicle of twelve years, from the time of spilling the coffee to drinking of coffee, from Dunstable to Dublin, with every single passage since. There would be the chapter of the blister; the chapter of Madam going to Kensington; the chapter of the Colonel’s going to France; the chapter of the wedding, with the adventure of the lost key; of the strain; of the joyful return; two hundred chapters of madness; the chapter of long walks; the Berkshire surprise; fifty chapters of little times; the chapter of Chelsea; the chapter of swallow and cluster; a hundred whole books of myself and so low; the chapter of hide and whisper; the chapter of Who made it so? My sister’s money.”

Vanessa, answering that “it would be too much once to hope for such a history,” asked him “did those circumstances crowd on you, or did you recollect them to make me happy?” But, though she might suspect[Pg 165] that he had meant to please her, she could not help exulting that he had remembered. She was not sure friendship had such a memory. She knew love had.

Swift had suggested that he might, for the first time, visit her at Celbridge. “Is it possible you will come and see me? I beg for God sake you will.” He did visit her. Back in Dublin he advised her to take more exercise, be cheerful, “read pleasant things that will make you laugh, and not sit moping with your elbows on your knees on a little stool by the fire.”

Vanessa was out of hand. “I ... here declare that ’tis not in the power of art, time, or accident to lessen the unexpressible passion which I have for — — —. Put my passion under the utmost restraint, send me as distant from you as the earth will allow, yet you cannot banish those charming ideas which will ever stick by me whilst I have the use of memory. Nor is the love I bear you only seated in my soul, for there is not a single atom of my frame that is not blended with it.... For heaven’s sake tell me what has caused this prodigious change in you which I have found of late. If you have the least remains of pity for me left, tell me tenderly. No, don’t tell it so that it may cause my present death; and don’t suffer me to lead a life like a languishing death, which is the only life I can lead if you have lost any of your tenderness for me.”

Swift did not reply. The death of Vanessa’s sister revived the correspondence, which went on with the[Pg 166] same disparity. “The worst thing in you and me,” he wrote, “is that we are too hard to please, and whether we have not made ourselves is the question.... We differ prodigiously in one point: I fly from the spleen to the world’s end, you run out of your way to meet it.” He urged her—Swift of all men—to accept what came and be pleased with it. She did her best to be the kind of philosopher he specified, but “I find the more I think the more unhappy I am.”

In his last surviving letter to her he reminded her of the pleasant episodes “of Windsor, Cleveland Row, Ryder Street, St. James’s, Kensington, the Sluttery, the Colonel in France.... Cad thinks often of these, especially on horseback, as I am assured. What a foolish thing is time, and how foolish is man who would be as angry if time stopped as if it passed.” This was in August 1722. Vanessa died in June 1723.

The end of the story is all gossip. It says that Vanessa, unable to endure her jealousy, wrote to Swift, or to Stella, asking if it were true that Stella was Swift’s wife. It says in one account that Stella answered that she was, in another that she sent the letter to Swift to answer. It says that Swift took the letter from Vanessa to Stella, or to him, and with it rode savagely to Celbridge, entered the room where Vanessa was, threw down the letter, gave Vanessa a look which for the last time struck her dumb and, without one of his “killing, killing words,” left the house. It says that[Pg 167] Vanessa thereupon changed her will, leaving her fortune to strangers, not to Swift, and died.

All gossip, any of it true, or none. Vanessa did leave her fortune to strangers and did not mention Swift among the friends to whom she gave small legacies to buy mourning rings. Something had parted Cadenus and Vanessa before she died. The parting was natural, but tragically late. She had loved a man whose thoughts, she said, “no human creature is capable of guessing at, because never any one living thought like you.” She had spent her life trying to win him, and he had let her spend it. Dying, she planned what revenge was left to her, the publication of his poem about Cadenus and Vanessa and of the letters between them.

When the poem, though not the letters, appeared in 1726 to the comfort of his enemies, Swift kept silence. It had been, he told a friend, a “cavalier business,” “a private humoursome thing which by an accident inevitable and the baseness of particular malice” had been made public. “I never saw it since I writ it.” He refused to “use shifts or arts” to justify himself, “let people think of me as they please.... I have borne a great deal more.” He had gone through what was comedy for him and tragedy for Vanessa. Others must make up their own minds, if they had them, about who was to blame, if there must be blame, when a universal Héloïse encountered a special Abélard.

[Pg 168]

3

With whatever remorse, with whatever relief, with whatever concern for scandal, Swift the day after Vanessa’s death left Dublin for the south of Ireland. Stella and Dingley were to spend the summer in the country at a friend’s house. About Vanessa, so far as any record shows, Swift was silent, except to refer in a letter to her “incontinence in keeping secrets.” And Stella was silent, except to remark, when she heard her rival praised, that the Dean could write finely about a broomstick. If there was between Swift and Stella such silence about Vanessa as they kept towards the world it was a silence beyond conjecture. The facts are drama enough. Stella went noiselessly in one direction. Swift went restlessly in another.

By the end of June he had made his way past Cork and had written a Latin poem on the rocks at Carbery where the ocean tore at the cliffs. By the beginning of August he had come up the west to Galway, still a hundred miles from home and “half weary of the four hundred I have rid.” Late in September he was back in Dublin. Stella returned to town. Swift greeted her with his old raillery. She had been spoiled, he said, by the “generous wines and costly cheer” of Wood Park, and tried to ape them on her income.

“Thus for a week the farce went on;

When, all her country savings gone,[Pg 169]

She fell into her former scene,

Small beer, a herring, and the Dean.”

Esther Johnson (Stella)

Painted probably after Vanessa’s death

It happened that during his absence from Dublin both Pope and Bolingbroke, and a little later Arbuthnot, took up the correspondence which they, and Swift more than they, had recently neglected. Fresh memories of England stirred in him. He exchanged affectionate letters with the Duchess of Ormond and Lady Masham. He wrote to Oxford demanding the bribe of a letter and a picture, “for who else knows how to deliver you down to posterity?” Bolingbroke had written: “I have vowed to read no history of our own country till that body of it which you promise to finish appears.” Swift thought often of making himself the real historiographer of those buried, unforgotten years, in spite of the dullard who had the title. But he was not yet ready for history. He was still alive to the events passing under his bitter eyes.

Swift hated Ireland because it was his place of banishment: “the whole kingdom a bare face of nature, without houses or plantations; filthy cabins, miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape; one insolent, ignorant, oppressive squire to be found in twenty miles riding; a parish church to be found only in a summer day’s journey, in comparison with which an English farmer’s barn is a cathedral; a bog of fifteen miles round; every meadow[Pg 170] a slough, and every hill a mixture of rock, heath, and marsh; and every male and female, from the farmer inclusive to the day-labourer, infallibly a thief and consequently a beggar, which in this island are terms convertible.” “The old seats of the nobility and gentry all in ruins, and no new ones in their stead.” “The wretched merchants, instead of being dealers, are dwindled to pedlars and cheats.” As to trade, “nothing worth mentioning except the linen of the north, a trade casual, corrupted, and at mercy, and some butter from Cork.” The ports and harbours were of no more use “than a beautiful prospect to a man shut up in a dungeon.” Travellers never came to Ireland, since they might expect to find there nothing but misery and desolation. Whoever could leave the kingdom left at the first chance and stayed away till the last excuse. Dublin was a “beggarly city,” one-seventh of its houses falling in ruins, its populace hungry, idle, dissolute, dirty, and noisy. Though it was the capital of an ancient kingdom, the government was wholly in the hands of Englishmen who, blind to every interest but their own, lived there as little as they could manage.

No theoretical doctrine of liberty moved Swift to take up the Irish cause. “I do profess without affectation,” he explained to Pope, “that your kind opinion of me as a patriot, since you call it so, is what I do not deserve; because what I do is owing to perfect rage and resentment, and the mortifying sight of slavery, folly,[Pg 171] and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live.”

On the Catholic majority, those “savage old Irish,” he spent little sympathy. They might be above the vermin of the island but they were below the voters. He had no patience with the Dissenters. They were outside the Church and to that extent outside his Ireland. Ireland for him was the English settled there, the noblemen, the landlords, the clergy, the lawyers, the merchants. Their ancestors had come to rule the conquered province. They themselves ought now to rule it. Instead, they were called Irish, which they were not, and in turn were ruled by the newest English, a changing garrison of place-men. Men born in Ireland could not hope for posts at home. They had either to rot on their estates or to go abroad while their tenants were racked to support them in a dingy splendour. The Irish Parliament had no power. The laws, all made in England, condemned Ireland to poverty. Cattle could not be shipped to England, woollen goods could not be shipped anywhere. Without a free hand in agriculture, manufacture, or trade, Ireland from being so long bound was numb or sodden.

Mortified by finding himself in exile among slaves, Swift first despised them and then hated their tyrants. The tyrants were the Whigs who had driven him out of power. He could not become a slave. He could not[Pg 172] endure a tyrant. Everything in his nature urged him to rouse the slaves and resist the tyrants. But he had the advantage, when he turned his fury loose, of a long experience in hating the party to which his enemies belonged.

Where his whole cause was so good Swift did not need to be fastidious about his particular occasion for attack. William Wood, an English ironmonger, in 1722 obtained a patent from the King to coin halfpence and farthings for Ireland for fourteen years. The Irish were not agreed that they needed new copper coins, certainly not to the amount of a hundred thousand pounds. The Irish were not consulted, nor even the Lord Lieutenant. Higher interests were involved. The patent had really been granted to the Duchess of Kendal, the King’s mistress, who sold it to Wood for ten thousand pounds. Walpole, Lord Treasurer, did not object. The Duchess had been loyal. The King was grateful. Through the method of the patent she could be rewarded, not by the King directly but indirectly by his Irish subjects, who already, if they had known it, contributed three thousand annually in pensions to the loyal lady. Since there was some risk, Wood deserved a profit for his trouble. The necessary copper would cost him sixty thousand pounds. When he had satisfied the Duchess he would still have thirty thousand, of which perhaps one-fifth would pay for the coinage and about one-seventh go to fees required[Pg 173] by the patent. As jobs went in the government of Ireland under Walpole, the profit was not unheard of.

But the failure to consult the Irish had angered them. Their Parliament protested to the Treasury. Lord Carteret, a friend of Swift and now Secretary of State, was at odds with Walpole. Walpole, persisting, got Carteret appointed Lord Lieutenant early in 1724, to get rid of him in London. By the time he reached Dublin the whole country was in a passion.

The passion was led and guided by Swift. Walpole’s scheme, shabby, cynical, insulting, brought the satirist with a roar out of his long silence. He was as crafty as he was furious. Pretending to be a small tradesman named Drapier, he addressed, between April and November 1724, a series of letters to the shopkeepers, tradesmen, farmers, and common people, to his printer, to the nobility and gentry, to the whole people of Ireland. He was as furious as he was crafty. Wood was a “single, diminutive, insignificant mechanic.” He and his agents, trying to force upon the Irish the coins which the patent did not oblige them to accept, were “enemies to God and this kingdom.” “I will shoot Mr. Wood and his deputies through the head, like highwaymen or housebreakers, if they dare to force one farthing of their coin upon me in the payment of an hundred pounds. It is no loss of honour to submit to the lion, but who, with the figure of a man, can think with patience of being devoured alive by a[Pg 174] rat.” “I entreat you, my dear countrymen, not to be under the least concern upon these and the like rumours, which are no more than the last howls of a dog dissected alive, as I hope he hath sufficiently been.”

Swift did not dare to accuse the King, and he only hinted at the honorarium to the Duchess. It was the ministers who had planned this contemptuous oppression. It was Wood who was to his own advantage carrying it out at the expense of Ireland. If Wood’s copper became current every Irishman who received a coin, even in the smallest transaction, would get less than he gave, and every Irishman who paid out a coin would give less than he got. While Wood prospered “we should live together as merry and sociable as beggars, only with this one abatement, that we should have neither meat to feed nor manufactures to clothe us, unless we could be content to prance about in coats of mail or eat brass as ostriches do iron.”

Swift must have known that his arguments were false, must have known that the intrinsic value of such small coins did not matter and that they would be as good as any if they were used. He who gave and he who got could not be equally losers. But Swift did not boggle over economic niceties. Here was a principle. To accept the coins would be to surrender to tyrants and become slaves. As soon as he had stirred the public to a fear of losing money and had assured them[Pg 175] they could lawfully refuse the new halfpence and farthings, he moved towards a general position.

“Were not the people of Ireland born as free as those of England? How have they forfeited their freedom? Is not their Parliament as fair a representative of the people as that of England?... Are they not subjects of the same king? Does not the same sun shine upon them? And have they not the same God for their protector? Am I a freeman in England, and do I become a slave in six hours by crossing the channel?” “I have looked over all the English and Irish statutes without finding any law that makes Ireland depend upon England any more than England does upon Ireland. We have indeed obliged ourselves to have the same king with them, and consequently they are obliged to have the same king with us. For the law was made by our own ancestors, and our ancestors then were not such fools (whatever they were in the preceding reign) to bring themselves under I know not what dependence which is now talked of without any ground of law, reason, or common sense.” “All government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.” “The remedy is wholly in your own hands.... By the laws of God, of Nature, of nations, and of your own country you are and ought to be as free a people as your brethren in England.”

No voice like this had ever been raised by an Englishman in Ireland. All the Irish heard it. Never again[Pg 176] were its echoes to be long silent in that country. “Money,” Swift said, “the great divider of the world, hath by a strange revolution been the great uniter of a most divided people.”

On the day Carteret landed in October the fourth and most thorough-going of the Drapier letters was issued. Hawkers crying it through the streets met the Lord Lieutenant when he arrived in Dublin. Much as Carteret admired “that genius which has outshone most of this age and when you will display it again can convince us that its lustre and strength are still the same,” he could not, in his station, overlook the Drapier. He offered a reward of three hundred pounds for information leading to the discovery of the author within six months. All Dublin, including the Lord Lieutenant, knew that Swift had written the dangerous letters. But there was no legal proof, even if there was anywhere an informer. During the six months Swift dined at the Castle and entertained Lady Carteret at a party in his garden. When Carteret heard that Swift had “some thoughts of declaring himself” he advised against it. Their friendship, however, was not tested to the utmost. Walpole, seeing that the case was hopeless in such a tumult, gave it up. The patent was withdrawn in 1725 as an instance of royal favour and condescension. Wood was compensated with a pension of three thousand pounds a year for twelve years. Carteret later summed up his administration: “The[Pg 177] people ask me how I governed Ireland. I say that I pleased Dr. Swift.”

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Swift, writing to Oxford’s son, apologized for his mention of the Irish brawl. “This is just of as much consequence to your Lordship as the news of a skirmish between two petty states in Greece was to Alexander while he was conquering Persia, but even a knot of beggars are of importance among themselves.” Yet Swift was too much a soldier not to enjoy a battle after a stupid peace. Though there were others in the field, he unmistakably commanded. The Grand Jury and the Liberty of St. Patrick’s, that part of Dublin over which he as Dean had civil jurisdiction, formally resolved against the hated coins, as did the butchers, the brewers, the newsboys or “flying stationers,” and the Black Guard. There were broadsheets on every corner, songs in every tavern, some of them written by Swift, all of them in support of the Drapier. While the furor lasted no jury would find anything seditious in any pamphlet or lampoon if Wood were mentioned. After the victory medals were struck in the Drapier’s honour, shops and taverns were named for him, women carried handkerchiefs with his picture woven on them. Something legendary began to enlarge Swift’s fame.

Irishmen who could barely spell out his arguments and knew only by hearsay that he was a man of learning who had been great in London were roused to veneration. They had thought of him as one of their[Pg 178] rulers sent from England, yet he had joined their cause against the English. He was not a tyrant but a patriot. Standing superbly against the dread, incalculable ministers, he had defended men and women to whom halfpence and farthings were important. They stood uncovered when he passed in the streets.

They could not know that he had acted, at least at first, out of hate for their slavery and folly and baseness, out of a fierce unwillingness to be slavish and foolish and base along with them. He who had had a hand in ruling an empire would not submit to being counted among the docile subjects of the province to which he had been banished. Private resentment had stirred him to public rebellion. He could not help it if what he had done for hate was the same as if he had done it for love. Such an outcome was only another proof that the world was wrong. Like Gulliver in Lilliput, wading home with the Blefuscudian fleet at the end of a packthread, Swift decently exulted. But he would not let himself forget that the adventure had taken place among the pigmies. Whatever he accomplished was a small affair. Great affairs were always maddeningly beyond him, or, he remembered his days with Oxford, behind him.

[Pg 179]

VI

TRAVELLER

1

Swift never set a foot outside Ireland or England except when he hurried across Wales on his restless journeys between London, the bright centre of his world, and Dublin, the dreary margin. Though he constantly diverted himself with books of travel, he found in them nothing which convinced him that he would anywhere meet more wisdom or less folly than he everywhere observed. The Scotch were a “poor, fierce northern people,” the Dutch grasping and shifty, the French frivolous and Catholic. If he had some liking for the Swedes it was because he was fascinated by Charles XII, that sudden, terrific king who had burst upon Europe from his cold peninsula and stirred philosophers to admiration by such a career as Swift would have chosen for himself. But dividing mankind into nations was little more than drawing lines on a map. The whole earth was inhabited by the human race.

Once Swift had hopes of going to Austria, once to[Pg 180] Sweden, once to France. Each time prevented, he hardly grumbled. If he thought of other countries it was for their better climate, which might, he said, have kept his wit and humour lively, as Ireland’s had not. “I imagine,” he wrote in 1724, “France would be proper for me now, and Italy ten years hence.” But he could not rouse himself from thinking about the world to travel far to look at it. There was his giddiness, which might at any time make him reel and fall. There was his deafness, which forced him to live “among those whom I can govern and make them comply with my infirmities.” There was the prospect of blindness. “My eyes will not suffer me to read small prints, nor anything by candlelight, and if I grow blind, as well as deaf, I must needs become very grave and wise and insignificant.” He was caged in Ireland, with nothing to do but pace his cage.

In Ireland, however, Swift was not confined to the cramped cottage at Laracor or to the hollow deanery in Dublin. During the twelve unbroken years of his banishment after 1714 he often visited other houses. His hosts could never have enough of him. Near Laracor were the houses of Peter Ludlow, George Rochfort, and Knightley Chetwoode. Near Dublin were the houses of the Grattans and Patrick Delaney and Charles Ford, with whom Stella spent a summer. Forty miles from Dublin was Thomas Sheridan’s ramshackle house which Swift could sometimes have to[Pg 181] himself. He is said to have visited an ancestor of the Earls of Llandaff in Tipperary. He visited the Ashes—St. George Ashe had been Swift’s college tutor—at Clogher in Tyrone, Robert Cope in Armagh, the Bishop of Dromore in Down. And during the summers of 1722 and 1723, when banishment had become almost unendurable, Swift made long, lonely journeys to the north and to the south. “I have shifted scenes,” he told Vanessa in July 1722, “oftener than I ever did in my life, and I believe I have lain in thirty beds since I left the town.”

Six hundred miles in the north, five hundred in the south the year following, all solitary and speculative. But these were not merely random travels in search of change and health. Though Swift was still incorrigibly Swift, he was also Gulliver, now with a purpose studying the despicable ways of men.

Gulliver’s travels were Swift’s travels, disguised with Swift’s wit, loaded with Swift’s hate. He gave years to them, as to nothing else he ever wrote about, five or six years thinking of them as Martin Scriblerus’s travels, nearly as long thinking of them as Gulliver’s or his own. “I am now writing a History of my Travels,” Swift told Ford in April 1721, “which will be a large volume, and gives account of countries hitherto unknown; but they go on slowly for want of health and humour.” By December of that year Bolingbroke knew about them. “I long to see your[Pg 182] Travels; for, take it as you will, I do not retract what I said, and will undertake to find in two pages of your bagatelles more good sense, useful knowledge, and true religion than you can show me in the works of nineteen in twenty of the profound divines and philosophers of the age.” In June 1722 Vanessa had read something about the giants. In January 1724 Swift was near the end. “I have left the Country of Horses,” he wrote to Ford, “and am in the Flying Island, where I shall not stay long, and my two last journeys will soon be over.” In July 1725 Bolingbroke referred to the pigmies and giants of which he had heard. In August, Swift wrote to Ford: “I have finished my Travels, and am now transcribing them. They are admirable things, and will wonderfully mend the world.”

In September, after a summer at Sheridan’s house in the country, Swift wrote to Pope: “I have employed my time, besides ditching, in finishing, correcting, amending, and transcribing my Travels, in four parts complete, newly augmented, and intended for the press when the world shall deserve them, or rather when a printer shall be found brave enough to venture his ears.” Thereafter all Swift’s friends waited to see how he would, as he said, “vex the world rather than divert it.” They could be sure he had written more than a story of imaginary voyages in a book. This would be Swift’s revenge.

In the days of the Scriblerus Club it had been[Pg 183] planned that Martin on his first voyage should be carried “by a prosperous storm to a discovery of the ancient Pygmean empire”; on his second should be “happily shipwrecked on the land of the giants, the most humane people in the world”; on his third should reach a “kingdom of philosophers who govern by the mathematics”; and on his fourth should, among beings not yet named, “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” These plans had broken up with the Club. Returning to this theme, Swift saw that the bungling Martin would no longer serve. If he were to be the traveller, much of the folly of the narrative would have to appear in his misadventures. Better to let the traveller be a plain, reasonable, unimaginative man who would report what he had seen in the language of common sense.

Swift’s nature included such a Gulliver. It included, too, an observer as alien to what went on around him as Gulliver could be on his most distant, most surprising island. “My disaffection to the world ... has never varied from the twenty-first ... year of my life.” Disaffection, singularity, had driven Swift, no less than most men, to think of himself as playing various rôles. At Kilkenny and Trinity he had been a tragic hero, neglected and abused by fortune. At Moor Park he had been a scholar in a garden, despising the rabble of wits and pedants. At Laracor he had been a soldier in a garrison, when there were wars[Pg 184] elsewhere. In London he had been the conscience and voice of ministers, insisting upon order and virtue in the state. In Dublin, exiled, he had turned from governing to resisting and had made himself the hammer of tyrants. Now he was a creature of a different race, thrown among men, full of antipathy for them, but full also of a scornful curiosity.

It was the best rôle he ever found. Without once taking ship to the corners of the earth as Gulliver did, Swift had moved about at home too large for the pigmies, too small for the giants, too sensible for the philosophers, too human for the animals. He had never been able quite to adjust himself to the scale of life as other men lived it. Other men, even when they had the pride of distinction, could submit. Swift could not. As if he were really an alien to the race, he had been obliged, whether he chose or not, to feel and act alien. Only once in more than fifty years had he found an occupation which truly involved him, and that only while a short delusion lasted. He had been unwilling to take a wife, though women desired and loved him. He had compromised so far as to have friends, but he was always conscious of the exceptions he was making. “I have ever hated all nations, professions, and communities, and all my love is towards individuals.... But principally I hate and detest that animal called man, although I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth. This is the system upon[Pg 185] which I have governed myself many years.... Upon this great foundation of misanthropy ... the whole building of my Travels is erected; and I will never have peace of mind till all honest men are of my opinion.”

If he had been fully alien he would not have troubled himself to be a missionary. He was a man to the extent that he was a moralist as well as a misanthrope. He would cure if he could. If not, he would punish. “Drown the world! I am not content with despising it, but I would anger it if I could with safety.” Here was the flaw in his misanthropy. Here was the strain of humanity through which he could be fretted and hurt. Here was the deep source of his fury. But he was alien enough to feel, dramatically, that he was only a traveller in strange lands.

Yet Swift was not a Timon, bawling and railing. Swift’s misanthropy was in his constitution, not in his disposition. His friends spoke always of his sweetness, his charm, his delightful temper, his hearty affections, his honest generosity. He had about him a magic almost like beauty’s magic. Nor did they think of him as morose and surly, whatever he said about himself. “Gulliver is a happy man,” said the experienced Arbuthnot, “that at his age can write such a merry work.” Swift on his travels could no more help the wit on his tongue than he could help the detestation in his heart.

[Pg 186]

He was as ingenious as he was grave. He took pains, with a few slips, to draw his pigmies and giants to scale, the pigmies an inch to a human foot, the giants a foot to a human inch. He deftly commandeered the inventions of earlier writers: Philostratus, Lucian, Rabelais, Cyrano de Bergerac, Perrot d’Ablancourt, Tom Brown. The nautical terms paraded in the voyage to Brobdingnag were copied almost word for word from a mariner’s handbook. Swift did not disdain to parody contemporary travellers. Whereas a mere misanthrope would have clamoured, a mere moralist would have scolded, Swift, being a wit, was satisfied to tell a story, pretending that he was a spectator who had no share in what he told. There were the characters, there were the incidents. They could be understood by anybody who had an understanding.

Consider the insectile people of Lilliput. Swift, in the guise of Gulliver, was at first received with dread, then with wonder, then with hospitality. Though they kept him a prisoner, they let him into the secrets of the Court and of the government, which were preposterously like England’s. The Lilliputian ministers to commend themselves to the king capered before him on a tight-rope. Gulliver, whose mind was part of Swift’s, remembered larger ministers. Flimnap, who could caper an inch higher than any other lord in the empire, seemed remarkably like Walpole. The great[Pg 187] men of Lilliput who sought honours from their king competed, by jumping over a stick held in his hand, for silken threads six inches long, one blue, one red, one green, which reminded Gulliver of the Order of the Garter, of the Bath, and of the Thistle.

Lilliput and the neighbouring Blefuscu had long been at war. A Lilliputian schism was the cause. Formerly all the people had broken their eggs at the larger end. One of their kings, having cut his finger on the larger end of one of his eggs, had by royal edict made the smaller end orthodox. There had been a civil war. Some of the defeated conservatives had fled to Blefuscu and had there found refuge and favour at the court. England, Gulliver reflected, had been entirely Catholic before Henry VIII. The Catholic Pretender had fled to France, and France had long been at war with England.

Grateful for the kindness shown him, Gulliver aided Lilliput in its war by capturing the Blefuscudian fleet and bringing it as a gift to his royal host. But the Lilliputians were no more grateful in return than the English had been to the Oxford ministry for ending the war with France. One party among the pigmies insisted that Blefuscu be subjugated to a province with a viceroy, as some of the Whigs had insisted France might be. The sourest of the tiny ministers became Gulliver’s enemy, as the dismal Nottingham had become Swift’s.

[Pg 188]

Gulliver’s chief offence was that, when a fire broke out in the queen’s apartment at the palace, he extinguished it in a manner more natural to him than agreeable to the queen. Had not Queen Anne implacably resented the spattering ridicule which Swift had let fall upon what he thought was menacing the Church and State? Thereafter the position of Gulliver in Lilliput was hopeless. The cabinet decided he must die. The friendly minister Reldresal, who may have stood for Carteret, thought it would be enough to blind Gulliver and allow him to starve to death.

From that compromise Gulliver escaped to Blefuscu, and back to England, knowing that the smallest people in the world had all the familiar follies and vices of mankind in general.

Next Swift, as Gulliver, was blown to the giants of Brobdingnag, that humane people. It was his turn to be insectile. He was exhibited as a toy freak by the kind, greedy farmer who had found him. Scientists wondered what species he could belong to. The king, being a philosopher, supposed that such creatures as Gulliver “have their titles and distinctions of honour; they contrive little nests and burrows that they call houses and cities; they make a figure in dress and equipage; they love, they fight, they dispute, they cheat, they betray.” And when Gulliver had defended his species by an account of their government and politics, their wars and luxuries, the king, being a[Pg 189] humane philosopher, concluded “your natives to be the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.”

He himself abominated mystery, refinement, and intrigue in governors. He limited government “to common sense and reason, to justice and lenity, to the speedy determination of civil and criminal causes.” He held that “whoever could make two ears of corn or two blades of grass grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before would deserve better of mankind ... than the whole race of politicians put together.” Gulliver, or Swift, sardonically despaired of such a monarch. His people were no better. Their learning was only in morality, history, poetry, and useful mathematics. They were unable to form conceptions of what Gulliver meant by “entities, abstractions, and transcendentals.” They were dull with virtue and peace.

Gulliver found in their habits less to remind him of England than he had found in Lilliput. His story was taken up with the ingenious shifts by which he got along among them. But after the giants he could not so easily return to the old scale of life as he could after the pigmies. His own people seemed contemptible by their smallness. He was twice as far from mankind as he had been before.

Swift’s, Gulliver’s, third voyage seems to have been[Pg 190] to the Country of Horses, but when he told the story he saved that for the venomous conclusion and in the third place put the account of the Flying Island and the continent which was topsy-turvy with philosophers.

Once more, as in Lilliput, he was often reminded of Europe. The name of Laputa was like the Spanish for harlot. The island, when its rulers wished, could hover over stubborn cities and shut out the sun, as England shut out the sun from Ireland. Whether aloft or on land the people were rapt in abstruse speculations or abandoned to fantastic projects. Among the islanders nobody spoke sense except, possibly, the tradesmen, women, and children. The others were so many pedants exaggerated from the breed that Swift had detested in his earliest satires. The Academy of Lagado was a Bedlam of Science, where men wore out their lives trying to extract sunbeams from cucumbers, to build houses downward from the roofs in the fashion of the bees and spiders, to plow fields only with the snouts of hogs, to make silk from spider webs, to cure colic with a pair of bellows, to soften marble for pincushions, to propagate naked sheep, to write books by a mechanical device, to discover painless methods of taxation.

Gulliver grew dizzy. He lacked the head, as Swift did, for this whirling universe. It did not steady him when, on the neighbouring island of Glubbdubdrib, he was allowed to call up the spirits of the famous[Pg 191] dead and found how falsely they had been presented in history. It did not steady him when in Luggnagg he learned of the immortal struldbrugs, for whom immortality was only human life prolonged to an infinity of horrible old age. “I ... thought,” said Gulliver, for Swift, “that no tyrant could invent a death into which I would not run with pleasure from such a life.” When he was out of the mad lands of Laputa, Balnibarbi, Glubbdubdrib, and Luggnagg, he was nearly upside down, giddy, and three times as far from mankind.

Now for the antipodes of misanthropy. Among the Houyhnhnms Gulliver was almost undisguisedly Swift. The day on which Gulliver set sail from Portsmouth was the precise day of September 1710 on which Swift had arrived in London to make his fortune with the new men in power. Gulliver’s discovery of an island where the horses were as much wiser and nobler as they were stronger than the men was such a discovery as Swift may have made as he rode through desolate, beggarly Ireland.

It is easy to guess, though only to guess, that the device came to his mind on that dark expedition to the south in the summer of 1723 after Vanessa’s death. Everywhere he saw the “savage old Irish,” “miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape,” living “in the utmost ignorance, barbarity, and poverty, giving themselves wholly up to idleness, nastiness, and thievery,” “brought up to steal or beg[Pg 192] for want of work,” so that to them “death would be the best thing to be wished for both on account of themselves and the public.” Swift had not yet reached the point where he could take up the cause of these miserable victims. He felt chiefly a sick repulsion. He would not admit that they and he were of the same kind. At least they must belong to a tribe which had degenerated till they were less than beasts.

Less than beasts? Compare them with his horse, healthy, patient, without follies or vices, incapable of pride. Horses, the animals Swift had most to do with and knew best, were more fit to rule than degraded men. Suppose some traveller should find a country where the horses did rule. Suppose Gulliver were to find it. The Scriblerus Club had not decided what race Martin was to visit on his fourth voyage, only that he was to “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” Nothing could disgust a traveller, even wholesome Gulliver, more than to study the horrid antics of a debased human tribe in the company of utopian horses who could see little difference between him and those apish copies. Gulliver had been disgusted among the giants when the maids of honour laid him against their terrible breasts. That had been only a shrinking of his senses. Now his soul itself must shrink with an absolute antipathy from which he could not recover. When he came back he would prefer the horses of England to the men.

[Pg 193]

With something like these gathering plans, though they must be guessed at, in something like this mood, which is certain enough, Swift rode through the south and west. In September he was in Dublin again. By the next January he had “left the Country of Horses.”

On his icy, fiery travels among the Houyhnhnms Swift (why call him Gulliver?) did not bother to observe such stinging likenesses to particular English persons and episodes as he observed among the pigmies and the philosophers. The last of his adventures was the simplest, as it was the most deadly. All actual fantasy, all apparent fact.

He came upon his first Yahoos without realizing that they were inferior men and upon his first Houyhnhnms without realizing that they were superior horses. When he found himself taken for a Yahoo he hurried to tell his Houyhnhnm master about Europe. He told him of wars, their causes, means, and ends; of litigation and the arts of lawyers; of money, and of poverty and riches; of luxury and dissipation; of diseases and their remedies; of ministers of state and noblemen. The reasonable Houyhnhnm said he had noticed the rudiments of all these human ways of life among the Yahoos.

They had their tribal and civil wars. They hoarded shining stones which they could not use, fought over them, and sometimes lost them to bystanders who snatched them away as expertly as any lawyer. They[Pg 194] gorged themselves with food and sucked a root that made them drunk. They had the only diseases in the country, because of their gluttony and filth. They had in most herds a sort of ruling Yahoo, always deformed in body and mischievous in disposition, who continued in office till a worse could be found. They were lewd and promiscuous. They were invariably dirty and sometimes splenetic. They had, it appeared, all the human vices except unnatural appetites, these “politer pleasures” not having occurred to them. They were unteachable because they were perverse and restive, but they had the brains to be cunning, malicious, treacherous, revengeful, insolent, abject, and cruel. It was plain to the Houyhnhnm who talked with Swift that the visitor was a Yahoo after all. That “small pittance of reason” which by some accident had been given to the European Yahoos they used only to multiply their natural corruptions and to acquire new ones not supplied by nature.

To be fully reasonable was to be like the Houyhnhnms. They did not know what lying was. They affirmed or denied only when they were certain. Their two principal virtues were friendship and benevolence, felt towards the whole species without partiality except where there were special virtues to attract them. In marriage they were without jealousy, fondness, quarrelling, or discontent. The young of both sexes were brought up in moderation, industry, exercise, and[Pg 195] cleanliness. Their only government was an annual council of the entire nation. They had no literature except poems composed, not written down, in praise of virtue. They were skilful workmen in the necessary arts, but wasted no time on superfluity or show. Reasonably born and bred, they lived reasonably without passions and died reasonably without sickness or fear.

“At first, indeed, I did not feel that natural awe which the Yahoos and all other animals bear towards them; but it grew upon me by degrees, much sooner than I imagined, and was mingled with a respectful love and gratitude that they would condescend to distinguish me from the rest of my species. When I thought of my family, my friends, my countrymen, or human race in general, I considered them as they really were, Yahoos in shape and disposition.” Swift would have remained with the Houyhnhnms for ever if they had not sent him away. The beasts could not tolerate a man. Nor could a man who had lived among the beasts ever again live among men without disgust.

The fourth voyage marked the peak of Swift’s fury and of his art. Great as that art was, it could not quite conceal that fury. The narrative might seem, however fantastic, to be the very mathematics of misanthropy, never looser than a syllogism. But the cold tread of intellect was repeatedly broken by the rush of nerves. The most reasonable sentence might suddenly throb with words of a shuddering hate. “Imagine twenty[Pg 196] thousand of them breaking into the midst of an European army, confounding the ranks, overturning the carriages, battering the warriors’ faces into mummy by terrible yerks from their hinder hoofs.” Intellect would have been satisfied with beating the European Yahoos down; nerves, furious and yet frightened at their own desperation, must imagine battering the noisome faces into mummy. Nothing less than an agonized antipathy could have made Swift remark that the female Yahoo who embraced Gulliver was not red-haired, “which might have been some excuse for an appetite a little irregular,” but “black as a sloe”—or as Stella. Hate possessed him as love possesses some other men.

If he had been a lover of his kind he might have been hot with praises for the lofty merits which he found in them, and might have seen the world smirk at his tribute. Instead, he was a hater. Was there not as good an excuse for hating as for loving? Was it any less accurate to perceive ugliness, deformity, vice, stupidity, loathsomeness in the human race than to perceive beauty, grace, virtue, wit, charm? Swift would have known that these were absurd questions, asked to no purpose. Mankind would always answer them for its own comfort, which demands that love must be, in moral arguments, preferred to hate. The crowded tribes of the earth lived too precariously to welcome the hate, however instinctive, which might[Pg 197] come among them to separate man from man, tribe from tribe, man from tribe. Only in the warmth of love could they live together. If the Swifts of the world must hate they must live alone, even if what they hated, as with Swift, was hate itself, along with cruelty, avarice, oppression, filth, intemperance, presumption.

All this Swift had learned. But he had no choice. His nature insisted upon taking its revenge as a coiled spring insists upon uncoiling as soon as it is free. He had travelled through the world. He would tell the whole truth about his travels.

2

A man who had been around the world and under it might after twelve years of banishment venture from Ireland to London. Swift’s friends had never ceased urging him to visit them again. He would only now and then allow himself to think of it.

“What can be the design of your letter but malice,” he wrote to Gay in January 1723, “to wake me out of a scurvy sleep, which however is better than none?... I shall not be able to relish my wine, my parsons, my horses, nor my garden for three months, until the spirit you have raised shall be dispossessed. I have sometimes wondered that I have not visited you, but I have been stopped by too many reasons, besides years and laziness, and yet these are very good ones.[Pg 198] Upon my return after half a year amongst you there would be to me desiderio nec pudor nec modus. I was three years reconciling myself to the scene and the business to which fortune has condemned me, and stupidity was what I had recourse to. Besides, what a figure should I make in London, while my friends are in poverty, exile, distress, or imprisonment, and my enemies with rods of iron? Yet I often threaten myself with the journey, and am every summer practising to ride and get health to bear it. The only inconvenience is that I grow old in the experiment.”

But in November 1724, Oxford having died, Oxford’s son invited Swift to come to England to write the biography which he had proposed. “There would be nobody more welcome to me than yourself. You should live in your own way and do just what was most agreeable to you. I have houses enough; you shall take your choice.” By September 1725 Swift had his Travels ready to be printed. With two such reasons for going he had no excuse for staying. His friends urged him with fresh tenderness and wit.

“I have often imagined to myself,” Pope wrote in October, “that if ever all of us met again, after so many varieties and changes, after so much of the old world and of the old man in each of us has been altered, after there has been such a new heaven and a new earth in our minds and bodies that scarce a single thought of the one, any more than a single atom of[Pg 199] the other, remains just the same—I have fancied, I say, that we should meet like the righteous in the millennium, quite in peace, divested of all our former passions, smiling at all our own designs, and content to enjoy the kingdom of the just in tranquillity.”

Arbuthnot, just recovering from a nearly fatal illness, had intended to add a postscript to Pope’s letter. He was so moved by what Swift had said—“Oh! if the world had but a dozen Arbuthnots in it I would burn my Travels”—that he wrote a letter of his own. “For God’s sake do not tantalize your friends any more. I can prove by twenty unanswerable arguments that it is absolutely necessary you should come over to England; that it would be committing the greatest absurdity that ever was not to do it the next approaching winter. I believe, indeed, it is just possible to save your soul without it, and that is all.”

Some feverish disorder kept Swift “sitting like a toad in a corner of his great house” for a part of that winter, but he had set his mind on England for the spring. “If you do not know me when we meet,” he told Pope, “you need only keep one of my letters and compare it with my face, for my face and letters are counterparts of my heart.” About the middle of March he was in London, in the best of health and spirits, Pope said, and “the joy of all here who know him, as he was eleven years ago.”

There were two weeks of joyful, leisurely reunion.[Pg 200] Pope left his villa for Swift’s lodgings. Arbuthnot “led him a course through the town” with such new men of fashion as Lord Chesterfield and William Pulteney (later the Earl of Bath). Harcourt and Peterborough made plans to introduce him to Walpole; Pope, though Arbuthnot got ahead of him, to the household of the Prince of Wales through Mrs. Howard, the Princess’s confidante. Swift visited Bolingbroke and Pope in the country, and by the first of April was ready, with Pope, “to ramble to Lord Oxford’s and Lord Bathurst’s and other places.” Pope found his guest “the best-natured and most indulgent man I know.”

Swift had come into a world as strange to him as the world he had found in 1710. Though the Whigs were in power, they were not the Whigs he had known. Somers, Halifax, Wharton, and Addison were dead. Congreve was alive, but gouty and almost blind. Steele was alive, but in Wales and paralyzed. The Tories Swift had known were scattered. Oxford had died, Ormond had settled in Spain, Bolingbroke, though pardoned and again in England, was excluded from the House of Lords. The Society of Brothers no longer dined together, men of influence with men of wit. Prior was dead.

Only in what had once been the Scriblerus Club was London much the same as Swift had left it, except that Parnell too was dead. Bolingbroke, formerly a kind of honorary member, now gave his time to[Pg 201] philosophizing near Uxbridge about the uses of retirement and scheming how to get back in power. Pope, having made a fortune out of Homer, had retired to his house and grotto at Twickenham and was brewing poison for the dunces. Gay, with a small sinecure and lodgings in the palace at Whitehall, was completing the fables which he wrote for Prince William, son of the Prince of Wales. Arbuthnot, still as always a man of learning, virtue, sense, and wit, called his house in London Martin’s office, though the Scriblerus Club had given up its regular meetings.

Swift, being Swift, could not withhold himself from politics. The authorities in Ireland warned the authorities in England to watch out for him. Walpole, who may have wanted to win Swift over and who may have wanted merely to learn about Irish affairs, invited Swift to dine with him at Chelsea and later to call on him in London. First and last they were at deadlock, however, though scandal buzzed about a treaty between them. Walpole’s opinions concerning Ireland, Swift said, “I could not reconcile to the notions I had of liberty.” “I was neither offered nor would have received” any promotion “except upon conditions which would never be granted.” By the end of April he was “weary of being among ministers whom I cannot govern, who are all rank Tories in government and worse than Whigs in Church, whereas I was the first man who taught and practised the direct contrary[Pg 202] principle.” If he had any hope it was in the opposition being organized by Pulteney and Sir William Wyndham, with the help and advice of Bolingbroke, and with the name of the Patriots. But Swift’s old zest, perhaps his old delusion, had gone.

“This is the first time I was ever weary of England and longed to be in Ireland,” he wrote to Sheridan. “But it is because go I must, for I do not love Ireland better nor England, as England, worse. In short, you all live in a wretched, dirty doghole and prison, but it is a place good enough to die in. I can tell you one thing, that I have had the fairest offer made me of a settlement here that one can imagine, which if I were ten years younger I would gladly accept, within ten miles of London and in the midst of my friends. But I am too old for new schemes, and especially such as would bridle my freedoms and liberalities.”

This was Swift’s way of saying that though some unknown patron had offered him a pleasant living in England, and it tempted him, he actually preferred Ireland, where he could be, as Dean, independent and liberal. He was closer to Ireland than he would admit. He did not during his stay in England even find time to go through the Oxford papers among which he had once thought he wanted to live over the days of his power, writing the history of the minister he had served and loved.

But if public affairs were disappointing, friendship[Pg 203] and wit, for which Swift had his genius, were all he had looked forward to. His friends would not take his politics too seriously. “I hope,” Bolingbroke wrote to “the three Yahoos of Twickenham, Jonathan, Alexander, John,” “Jonathan’s imagination of business will be succeeded by some imagination more becoming a professor of the divine science la bagatelle.” During May and June Swift was as cheerful as he ever urged others to be. He was at Twickenham with Gay and Pope, content to let the world go its way if they could laugh at it. “Mr. Pope ... prescribes all our visits without our knowledge, and Mr. Gay and I find ourselves often engaged for three or four days to come, and we neither of us dare dispute his pleasure.” Bolingbroke and Bathurst were not far away. Congreve came out to dinner. Mrs. Howard had a house at Marble Hill. The Prince of Wales’s court left London for Richmond where Swift made it his habit, as he put it, “to sponge a breakfast once a week.”

The days were as busy, if not as weighty, as they had been for Swift when he spent them with the Ministry, but in the evenings he played backgammon with Pope’s mother. Pope, Gay, and Swift went off for two weeks on horseback, to Lord Cobham’s house at Stowe, to Bathurst’s house at Cirencester, probably to Windsor Forest. Pope and Swift seem to have helped Gay with a ballad which he wrote at the inn at Wokingham. All three of them agreed upon a volume or[Pg 204] volumes of miscellanies in which, as Pope described it, they were to “look like friends, side by side, serious and merry by turns, not in the stiff forms of learned authors, flattering each other and setting the rest of mankind at naught, but in a free, unimportant, natural, easy manner, diverting others just as we diverted ourselves.”

At the same time, Twickenham saw them working upon bigger schemes. Gay had his fables, taking from the behaviour of animals the rules for human conduct which he wittily versified for the little prince. Pope, angry at the spiteful dunces who had envied his success, was paying them off in a satire. Swift at first had thought they hardly deserved it. “Take care the bad poets do not outwit you, as they have served the good ones in every age, whom they have provoked to transmit their names to posterity.” Swift himself almost never mentioned fools by name when he slaughtered them in prose or verse, unless the slaughter were political. But when he read Pope’s satire he changed his mind, as Pope had now changed his. Pope was going to burn the verses. Swift saved them from the fire. When three such wits had come together they might as well all whip the world. Let Gay have his moral animals, and Pope his dunces. Swift would take mankind.

They read and discussed his Travels. Pope and Swift thought of means of publishing the book so[Pg 205] stealthily that there would be no danger of prosecution. The printer, having seen a quarter of it, agreed to pay within six months the two hundred pounds which Pope made Swift demand. Only after Swift had left England the middle of August did the printer receive the manuscript, “he knew not whence, nor from whom, dropped at his house in the dark from a hackney coach” in which it is likely that the mystifying Pope enjoyed his subterfuge.

Secret enough, but not half as secret as Swift was about something dearer to him than any book. From the beginning of his visit he was worried about Stella, who was very sick at home but tried to keep the news from him. “I have these two months seen through Mrs. Dingley’s disguises,” Swift wrote in July. Early in that month he heard that Stella was in danger. Though it destroyed his peace, he said nothing to his friends in England. Bolingbroke knew that Swift had a friend called Stella and gallantly assumed she was his mistress. To Pope and Gay and Arbuthnot she was at most only a vague shape in Ireland. Neither at Twickenham nor at Whitehall, where Swift later lived with Gay, was she more than that. Swift, so long used to discretion where Stella was concerned, showed them a wit’s face, not a lover’s heart. But his letters to his friends in Ireland made plain how his grief had shaken him.

“What you tell me of Mrs. Johnson I have long expected,[Pg 206] with great oppression and heaviness of heart. We have been perfect friends these thirty-five years. Upon my advice they both came to Ireland and have been ever since my constant companions; and the remainder of my life will be a very melancholy scene when one of them is gone whom I most esteemed upon the score of every good quality than can possibly recommend a human creature.... My heart has been so sunk that I have not been the same man, nor ever shall be again, but drag on a wretched life till it shall please God to call me away.... I wish it could be brought about that she might make her will....

“Think how I am disposed while I write this, and forgive the inconsistencies. I would not for the universe be present at such a trial of seeing her depart. She will be among friends that upon her account and great worth will tend her with all possible care, where I should be a trouble to her and the greatest torment to myself. In case the matter should be desperate I would have you advise, if they come to town, that they should be lodged in some airy, healthy part and not in the deanery, which besides, you know, cannot but be a very improper thing for that house to breathe her last in. This I leave to your discretion, and I conjure you to burn this letter immediately, without telling the contents of it to any person alive.

“Pray write me every week, that I may know what steps to take; for I am determined not to go to Ireland[Pg 207] to find her just dead or dying. Nothing but extremity could make me familiar with those terrible words, applied to such a dear friend. Let her know I have bought her a repeating gold watch, for her ease in winter nights. I designed to have surprised her with it, but now I would have her know it, that she may see how my thoughts were always to make her easy. I am of opinion that there is not a greater folly than to contract too great and intimate a friendship, which must always leave the survivor miserable.... When you have read this letter twice, and retain what I desire, pray burn it and let all I have said lie only in your breast.

“Pray write every week.... I would rather have good news from you than Canterbury, though it were given me upon my own terms.”

What other lover who ever lived could, staggering with grief and dread, have talked about the terms of his lover’s will, measured her loss against the gain of an archbishopric, remembered that she must not die in his house, hesitated to go to her, and commanded that his anguish be kept secret?

“One of the two oldest and dearest friends I have in the world is in so desperate a condition of health as makes me expect every post to hear of her death. It is the younger of the two with whom I have lived in the greatest friendship for thirty-three years.... For my part, as I value life very little, so the poor casual remains[Pg 208] of it, after such a loss, would be a burden that I must heartily beg God Almighty to enable me to bear; and I think there is not a greater folly than that of entering into too strict and particular a friendship, with the loss of which a man must be absolutely miserable, but especially at an age when it is too late to engage in a new friendship. Besides, this was a person of my own rearing and instructing, from childhood, who excelled in every good quality that can possibly accomplish a human creature.... Pardon me, I know not what I am saying. But believe me that violent friendship is much more lasting and as much engaging as violent love.”

Towards the end of July, Swift, at Twickenham, was one day answering a letter from Sheridan. “The account you give me is nothing but what I have some time expected with the utmost agonies, and there is one aggravation of constraint, that where I am I am forced to put on an easy countenance. It was at this time the best office your friendship could do, not to deceive me.... I look upon this as the greatest event that can ever happen to me, but all my preparations will not suffice to make me bear it like a philosopher, nor altogether like a Christian. There hath been the most intimate friendship between us from her childhood, and the greatest merit, on her side, that ever was in one human creature towards another. Nay, if I were now near her I would not see her. I could not behave[Pg 209] myself tolerably, and should redouble her sorrow. Judge in what a temper of mind I write this. The very time I am writing I conclude the fairest soul in the world hath left its body.”

Just then Swift was interrupted. “Confusion! that I am this moment called down to a visitor, when I am in the country and not in my power to deny myself.”

He came back to his unfinished letter. “I have passed a very constrained hour, and now return to say I know not what. I have been long weary of the world, and shall for my small remainder of years be weary of life, having for ever lost that conversation which alone could make it tolerable. I fear while you are reading this you will be shedding tears at her funeral.”

In a week Swift knew that, no matter what he faced, he must go to Ireland. Pope, ignorant of the full reason, was so unwilling to lose his friend that he travelled with him to Chester. “I felt the extreme heat of the weather,” Pope said, “the inns, the roads, the confinement and closeness of the uneasy coach, and wished a hundred times I had either a deanery or a horse in my gift” to keep Swift in England or to make his journey more comfortable. But there were no words between them about Stella, as there were no words about her in any of the letters he wrote back to his English friends. Swift, so copious and eloquent about most of his passions, about this one was as quiet as a stone. Pope, who suspected something, risked only[Pg 210] a hint in his wish that “you may find every friend you have there in the state you wish him or her.” Talking about everything else in the world the two great wits rode in the uneasy coach to Chester, where Swift was prepared to find mortal news waiting for him. The only word from him about her is in a letter to an Irish friend two months later. “Mrs. Johnson is much recovered since I saw her first, but still very lean and low.”

3

Pope wished “that your visits to us may have no other effect than the progress of a rich man to a remote estate, which he finds greater than he expected, which knowledge only serves to make him happier where he is, with no disagreeable prospect if ever he should choose to remove.” And Swift, coming home from his rich estate in London, was received, Arbuthnot said, like a Lord Lieutenant. When the ship was sighted in Dublin Bay the bells of the city were set to ringing. The Corporation, with less official citizens, went out in wherries to meet the “Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver.” The docks had bunting, every street a bonfire. The populace cheered their defender as he landed and rode to his gloomy house.

If Swift was human, as well as Swift, he was warmed by this loud affection. But they were the people who had hooted him when he came over to be Dean, before[Pg 211] he had fought for them about their copper farthings. “I have often reflected in how few hours, with a swift horse or a strong gale, a man may come among a people as unknown to him as the antipodes.” Between Swift and the Irish, or between him and any body of men, it was too late for reconciliation. He had been an alien all his life, and he had proved it in his Travels. There the world would soon have a chance to study its disgusting face.

Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World, published 28 October 1726 to vex the world rather than divert it, diverted it. Nobody spoke or apparently even thought of prosecution. “The politicians to a man agree,” Pope and Gay wrote to Swift, “that it is free from particular reflections, but that the satire on general societies of men is too severe.” Politicians were no more disposed than they were obliged to defend the human race against a libel. Mankind, invincibly abstract, invulnerably obtuse to general assaults, laughed. “From the highest to the lowest” the book was read, “from the cabinet council to the nursery.” The Princess of Wales did not care, probably did not know, that she was supposed to have sat for the Queen of Brobdingnag. She was delighted. The Duchess of Marlborough was “in raptures” and willing to forgive her old enemy. Arbuthnot saw that the book was to be a classic, and forecast for it “as great a run as John Bunyan.” The first impression was sold within a week.[Pg 212] There were Dublin editions, and translations into French and Dutch within a year.

The third voyage, with its multiplied ridicule of pedants, pleased the least. That satire was too limited. Readers preferred to see all mankind in the refracting glass. Monkeys before a mirror, Swift might have said. They accepted the likenesses which they recognized, but they did not recognize those which might have vexed them. At least they did not take such likenesses to themselves. Untroubled by the satire, they enjoyed the story, so marvellous yet so circumstantial, so ingenious yet so simple. “Such a merry work,” Arbuthnot called it. Who was there who could fail to be diverted by these adventures among pigmies and giants, on an island that moved through the air, in a land where horses used men as beasts? Who minded that the traveller was a misanthrope? Misanthropy did not hurt its objects, so long as it confined itself to words.

Swift, accusing mankind of every vice and folly, had thought of it as more sensitive or less frivolous than it was. He let drive with all his pitiless force, and the world applauded his witty marksmanship.

Stella having for the time recovered, Swift went again the next April to England, where the Earl of Peterborough thought the Dean ran the risk of becoming a bishop. The second visit was an anticlimax. Swift made no progress with the life of Oxford. He was completely out of favour with Walpole. Twickenham,[Pg 213] happily as Pope welcomed Swift there, was not what it had seemed before. It was pleasant to talk with Pope about his dunces. It was pleasant to read the verses of the opera which Gay, to whom Swift had said that “a Newgate pastoral might make an odd, pretty sort of thing,” was writing about rogues and beggars. It was pleasant to concoct their miscellanies, in which the poems to Stella were to appear. But it was unpleasant for Swift to be so deaf that he could hardly hear Pope’s feeble voice or have a share in the conversation of the friends who came to see them. Swift began to feel that he was a burden. He would go to London.

He would go to France. Voltaire gave him letters of introduction. Swift exchanged opinions with his French translator, telling him, in his French, that if the Travels were calculated only for the British Isles then the traveller was a pitiable writer. The same vices and the same follies, he said, reigned everywhere, at least in all the civilized countries of Europe; and the author who wrote only for one city, one province, one kingdom, or even one age so little deserved to be translated that he did not deserve to be read.

The death of George I and the accession to the throne of the Prince and Princess of Wales, who were the only royal friends Swift ever had, held him in England. Once more, and for the last time, he was disappointed. Walpole, after a fluttering interval, retained[Pg 214] his power. Wit alone could not make a man a bishop.

Stella, it turned out, could not be well without Swift. He had left her settled in the deanery for the summer. In August Sheridan wrote that she was once more in danger. Swift, at the house of a kinsman in London, was helpless with his own malady.

“I walk like a drunken man, and am deafer than ever you knew me. If I had any tolerable health I would go this moment to Ireland. Yet I think I would not, considering the news I daily expect to hear from you.... I kept it [Sheridan’s letter] an hour in my pocket with all the suspense of a man who expected to hear the worst news that fortune could give him, and at the same time was not able to hold up my head.... I know not whether it be an addition to my grief or not, that I am now extremely ill; for it would have been a reproach to me to be in perfect health when such a friend is desperate. I do profess upon my salvation that the distressed and desperate condition of our friend makes life so indifferent to me, who by course of nature have so little left, that I do not think it worth the time to struggle. Yet I should think, according to what hath been formerly, that I may happen to overcome this present disorder. And to what advantage? Why, to see the loss of that person for whose sake only life was worth preserving.... What have I to do in the world? I never was in such agonies as when I received[Pg 215] your letter and had it in my pocket. I am able to hold up my head no longer.”

Still Swift would not tell his English friends about Stella. His secret had been buried in him too long to be dug up now. Too much of his heart would have come with it. Suddenly leaving London in September he lurched across England to Chester. Offered a passage from Parkgate in the official yacht, he refused, thinking he would be in Ireland sooner if he rode through Wales and shipped from Holyhead. There the winds delayed him for a week, spent in the smoky rooms of an inn which had no decent wine to drink, no books to read, no customers who could speak English. q29.bx7.td0l.com| ps.bx7.td0l.com| v1.bx7.td0l.com| 16x.bx7.td0l.com| 2y.bx7.td0l.com| 7m.bx7.td0l.com| x7.ok1i.com| 4v.ok1i.com| 6n.ok1i.com| aa.ok1i.com| ds.ok1i.com| x5.ok1i.com| ov.ok1i.com| y8.ok1i.com| gx.ok1i.com|

Morning and afternoon he walked in the wind on the rocks. “I was so cunning these three last days that whenever I began to rage and storm at the weather I took special care to turn my face towards Ireland, in hopes by my breath to push the wind forward. But now I give up.” Every night he dined alone, and had five dreary hours ahead of him before he went to bed. Sleep was no relief. He had fantastic dreams, such as that Bolingbroke was preaching in St. Patrick’s and quoting Wycherley in his sermon. Morning was no restoration. Swift looked for the wind to change, and it would not change. “I live in suspense, which is the worst circumstance of human nature.” There was nothing to do but “scribble or sit humdrum.” He scribbled prose and verse.

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职场表现上，当日丑牛延续贯的务实作风，工作态度认真严谨，做事有条不紊，能按部就班完成本职工作，质量与率兼具。对于从事行政、建筑、农业、教育、制造等行业的属牛人，当日工作进顺畅，熟悉的业务域易出成果，长期耕的工作内容迎来阶段回报。上班族在团队中是可靠的存在，交办的任务能放心交付，容易获得的信任与器重，有机会接触核心工作，展现扎实的业功底。

机遇契机面，当日属牛人贵人运盛，六之力加持下，易遇长辈、提携，可能迎来意想不到的晋升机会或重要项目委派，这是长期勤恳付出换来的回报。部分属牛人可能接到跨界作邀请或岗位调整通知，虽有挑战，但是突破职业瓶颈的佳契机。同时，当日适参与培训、学习进修，提升业技能，对长远职业发展助力大。

潜在阻碍上，丑牛天偏保守固执，当日可能因固守固有思维，不愿接受新事物、新法，错失创新发展的机遇。此外，虽整体人际和谐，但仍需范职场小人暗中使绊，避因固执己见与同事发生分歧，影响团队协作氛围。重要文件、同需反复核对，避因疏忽出现纰漏，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜放下保守心态，勇敢接受新任务、新挑战，灵活变通工作法，突破职业瓶颈。保持勤恳务实的作风，低调做事、踏实做人，妥善维护职场人际关系，远离是非纷争。主动向请教学习，把握贵人助力，为晋升发展创造有利条件。

寅虎对应地支 “寅”，五行属木，天勇猛果敢、自信张扬，行动力强，敢于突破常规、开拓创新，事业中自带气场，擅长把握风口机遇。2026 丙午马年，寅午三，属虎人全年事业运势顺势上扬，火力加持下才华与行动力爆发，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势余温未散，三之力仍在，事业运势延续盛态势，机遇与发展空间并存。

职场表现上，当日寅虎气场全开，行动力拉满，工作进有序，干劲十足，能快速攻克工作难点，此前积压的复杂任务可完成。上班族在团队中易成为核心人物，力凸显，能有协调团队成员，动项目落地，绩表现突出，金、提成有望足额甚至额到账。对于从事能源、餐饮、教育、销售、管理等行业的属虎人，当日木火相生，行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属虎人事业机遇不断，有外出对接、拓展业务的佳机会，适开拓新市场、发展新客户，跨界作成功率较。创业人士、企业经营者当日运势利好，适布局新项目、拓展新渠道，在火相关行业易实现营收大幅增长。此外，当日有机会接手核心新项目，展现个人能力，为后续薪资提升、职位晋升铺路。贵人运强劲，遇困难时易有贵人出手相助，指点迷津。

潜在阻碍上，当日需范天贼、地兵凶煞带来的阻碍，易出现工作突发状况，如作分歧、案临时变等，需提前做好应对准备。同时，属虎人天强势，当日可能因锋芒过露、过于自我，忽视同事建议，引发人际矛盾，甚至遭小人嫉妒，暗中制造阻碍。此外，核心信息易泄露，需做好保密工作，避因信息外泄造成损失。

发展建议：当日宜充分发挥果敢优势，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进新项目、新计划。做事保持低调谦逊，多倾听同事与前辈的建议，收敛锋芒，妥善处理职场人际关系。强化保密意识，谨慎处理核心工作信息，提前预判风险，从容应对突发状况。

卯兔对应地支 “卯”，五行属木，天温和儒雅、心思细腻，思维敏捷且具耐心，事业中擅长统筹规划、细致执行，追求平稳顺遂，不喜纷争。2026 丙午马年，卯木受午火克制，属兔人全年事业运势起伏不定，易遇瓶颈阻碍，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得玉堂、少微吉护佑，运势顺遂，事业迎来平稳利好期。

职场表现上，当日卯兔思路清晰、心态平和，做事且细致入微，能有条不紊地进各项工作，规避细节失误，工作质量。上班族擅长梳理工作脉络，理规划工作进度，不仅能顺利完成当日本职工作，还能处理额外事务，获得认可。对于从事文化、艺术、设计、行政、文秘、教育等行业的属兔人，当日细腻优势凸显，创意设计、文案撰写、资料整理等工作易出精品，工作成果备受肯定。

机遇契机面，当日属兔人事业稳步发展，虽重大突破，但能在平稳中积累成果，适梳理规划后续工作，为长远发展铺垫基础。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。部分属兔人有机会参与重要会议、项目研讨，展现个人见解，提升职场存在感。

潜在阻碍上，当日属兔人需避过于保守谨慎，因害怕出错而不敢尝试新事物、主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，不宜做重大决策，如跳槽、转行、创业等，当日运势平稳，重大决策易因考虑不周出现失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持细致的工作风格，稳扎稳进工作，积累经验与成果。适当破保守心态，在适时机主动展现个人能力，争取发展机遇。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，妥善维护自身职场权益，避卷入人际纷争。

辰龙对应地支 “辰”，五行属土，天尊贵大气、自信睿智，格局宏大、眼光长远，事业中自带强者气场，追求卓越成就，擅长掌控全局、引向。2026 丙午马年，辰土生午火，属龙人全年事业运势平稳向上，有机会展现才能，但易锋芒过露，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得三、武曲吉助力，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日辰龙气场沉稳，工作中展现出强的责任心与力，做事果断干练，决策，能有统筹各项工作，动项目有序进展。上班族在团队中是核心骨干，受信任，能立承担重要工作，虽重大突破，但稳步前行，工作成果稳步积累。对于从事管理、金融、地产、建筑、端制造等行业的属龙人，当日行业运势平稳，适耕本职、磨业能力，夯实事业基础。

机遇契机面，当日属龙人事业发展阻力较小，能得到同事、前辈的全力支持，进事宜顺风顺水，团队协作，易达成工作目标。适进升、业务优化等长期规划，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。部分属龙人有机会接触行业前沿资源，参与端项目作，拓宽事业格局。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕锋芒过露带来的负面影响，过于张扬强势易引发同事嫉妒，遭小人暗中诋毁，影响职场口碑。同时，属龙人眼光远，易忽视细节问题，在工作执行中可能因细节疏忽致小失误，影响工作成。此外，事业平稳期易产生懈怠心态，缺乏进取动力，致发展停滞不前。

发展建议：当日宜保持沉稳务实的作风，收敛锋芒、低调做事，多倾听他人建议，避过于强势引发人际矛盾。注重细节把控，兼顾全局与细节，提升工作质量。克服懈怠心态，树立长远目标，稳步进事业发展，积累实力等待机遇爆发。

巳蛇对应地支 “巳”，五行属火，天冷静睿智、心思缜密，洞察力强，擅长谋略策划、布局，事业中低调务实、暗藏锋芒，靠智慧与策略取胜。2026 丙午马年，巳午半，属蛇人全年事业运势强劲，贵人暗中相助，机遇源源不断，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火气相辅，运势利好，事业发展顺遂，机遇与挑战并存。

职场表现上，当日巳蛇头脑冷静、思维缜密，工作中具洞察力，能捕捉工作核心问题，提前预判风险，制定完善应对案。做事低调，不事张扬，默默进工作，总能在关键时刻展现惊人实力，工作成果令人刮目相看。对于从事金融、法律、科研、技术、策划、医疗等行业的属蛇人，当日业优势凸显，分析、技术攻关、案策划等工作易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属蛇人贵人运盛，有 “太阳” 星照拂，每当陷入困境时，总会有贵人及时出现提供助力，指点关键思路，化解工作难题。事业上适布局长线规划，开展长期作项目，与靠谱伙伴携手发展，成功率较。此外，当日适提升业技能，学习前沿知识，为职业晋升、事业拓展积蓄力量。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕小人环伺，身边不乏嫉妒者，流言蜚语与暗中压计并存，越是调张扬，越容易暴露自身破绽，给他人可乘之机。同时，属蛇人天多疑，当日可能因过度猜忌同事、作伙伴，影响团队信任，阻碍工作进。此外，工作中易因追求而过度纠结细节，致工作率降低。

发展建议：当日宜保持低调务实，收敛锋芒、谦逊做人，不与人争长短，远离是非纷争，注本职工作。放下多疑心态，学会信任他人，加强团队沟通协作，凝聚力进工作。平衡主义与工作率，聚焦核心目标，进事业发展。

午马对应地支 “午”，五行属火，天热情奔放、活力四射，行动力强，热自由、敢于拼搏，事业中充满激情与干劲，擅长开拓进取、突破创新。2026 丙午马年，属马人值太岁本命年，自刑影响下事业波动较大，阻碍重重，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势稍缓，运势回升，事业阻碍减少、机遇增多。

职场表现上，当日午马摆脱此前的低迷状态，活力回归，工作干劲十足，执行力变强，能快速响应工作任务，进各项事宜。上班族容易得到、前辈的关注，之前提交的案、进的项目，当日容易有积反馈，工作认可度提升。对于从事销售、传媒、体育、餐饮、旅游等行业的属马人，当日活力优势凸显，业务拓展、客户对接、活动策划等工作开展顺利。

机遇契机面，当日属马人贵人缘变好，遇到工作难题时，身边同事、前辈愿意伸手帮忙，指点关键思路，化解工作困境。适主动进工作，对接新客户、洽谈作细节，容易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，此前卡住的作项目有机会突破瓶颈。部分属马人有机会展现个人才华，获得晋升、调岗的契机。

潜在阻碍上，本命年值太岁的影响仍在，当日事业仍有波动，计划易被突发状况乱，需做好灵活应对的准备。属马人子急躁，当日可能因急于求成、缺乏耐心，在工作细节上处理不当，引发失误，或与同事发生口角冲突，影响人际和谐。此外，不宜贸然开展风险项目、盲目跨界转型，易因准备不足遭遇挫折。

发展建议：当日宜保持热情活力，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进工作，展现个人能力。克制急躁心态，做事沉稳耐心，注重细节把控，避因冲动出错。遇事灵活变通，提前制定备选案，从容应对突发状况；远离风险决策，稳守主业、稳步发展。

未羊对应地支 “未”，五行属土，天温和善良、谦逊有礼，心思细腻、富有同理心，事业中待人真诚、踏实肯干，擅长团队协作、稳中求进。2026 丙午马年，午未六，属羊人全年运势佳，是马年职场天选之子，贵人运强劲，事业路升，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，六之力加持，运势持续盛，事业机遇满满。

职场表现上，当日未羊心态平和、工作认真负责，做事细致周到，能完成本职工作，且待人真诚友善，受同事喜与赏识。在团队中是协调者的角，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量，动项目顺利落地。对于从事服务、文化、教育、公关、设计、公益等行业的属羊人，当日人脉优势凸显，靠口碑与人脉动事业发展，成显著。

机遇契机面，当日属羊人贵人主动上门，赏识、同事帮扶，核心资源自动靠拢，不用费力竞争，就能轻松获得晋升、调岗机会。作运爆棚，伙创业、对接项目成功率，适拓展作渠道，开展跨界作，事业发展空间大幅拓宽。此外，当日有机会参与优质项目，展现个人才华，提升职场地位。

潜在阻碍上，当日属羊人运势过，易滋生骄傲自满心态，做事变得松懈马虎，忽视细节问题，致工作质量下降。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇小人占成果、背后诋毁，需提警惕，学会保护自身权益。此外，机遇过多时易陷入选择困境，因犹豫不决错失佳机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持谦逊低调，戒骄戒躁，踏实做事、认真履职，珍惜来之不易的机遇。果断决策、把握核心机遇，避因犹豫不决错失发展良机。强化自我保护意识，范职场小人，妥善维护自身权益，注事业长远发展。

申猴对应地支 “申”，五行属金，天聪慧机敏、活泼灵动，思维敏捷、反应迅速，擅长创新突破、灵活应变，事业中才华横溢、创意十足，靠智慧与创意立足。2026 丙午马年，火克金，属猴人全年事业运势上半年竞争激烈，后期转强，靠业技能取胜，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水火制衡，运势平稳，事业稳步发展。

职场表现上，当日申猴思维活跃、创意满满，工作中具创新意识，能提出新颖特的想法与案，破常规思维，为工作注入新活力。做事灵活，善于应对突发状况，能快速调整工作思路，适应工作变化。对于从事互联网、科技、创意、传媒、销售、自媒体等行业的属猴人，当日创意优势凸显，创新项目、创意产品易获得市场认可，工作成果亮眼。

机遇契机面，当日属猴人事业发展平稳，适耕业技能，磨核心竞争力，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。有机会拓展兴趣业，凭借创意与才华获得额外收入，拓宽收入渠道。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猴人易因聪明过头而浮躁，做事缺乏耐心，浅尝辄止，难以耕细节，致工作成果不够扎实，难以立足。同时，创意过多易分散精力，难以聚焦核心目标，致工作率降低，影响事业发展进度。此外，职场中易因口遮拦、言语随意，得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。

发展建议：当日宜收敛浮躁心态，沉下心来耕本职工作，磨业技能，将创意转化为实实在在的工作成果。聚焦核心目标，理分配精力，避因创意过多分散注意力，提升工作率。谨言慎行，避随意谈论他人是非，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业发展营造良好环境。

酉鸡对应地支 “酉”，五行属金，天精明干练、认真严谨，观察力敏锐、执行力强，做事追求、注重细节，事业中勤奋踏实、责任心强，靠努力与严谨取胜。2026 丙午马年，七星，属鸡人全年事业有表现空间，但伴随是非竞争，需积成长，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，运势平稳，事业稳中求进。

职场表现上，当日酉鸡工作态度严谨认真，做事丝不苟，注重细节与率，能完成各项工作任务，质量。观察力敏锐，能快速发现工作中的问题与漏洞，及时整改完善，避失误扩大。对于从事财务、审计、质检、文秘、行政、技术等行业的属鸡人，当日严谨优势凸显，细致类工作易出成果，受信任。

机遇契机面，当日属鸡人事业稳步发展，适夯实事业基础，积累工作经验与人脉资源，为后续晋升发展铺垫。职场中勤奋踏实的表现易被看在眼里，有机会获得额外工作机会，展现个人能力。此外，当日适学习新技能、提升业素养，增强职场竞争力。

潜在阻碍上，当日属鸡人易因过于追求而对自己和他人过于苛刻，引发同事不满，影响团队协作氛围。同时，七星影响下，职场竞争激烈，易遭小人计、背后诋毁，工作成果易被质疑，需提警惕。此外，做事过于固执，不愿接受他人建议，易致工作思路僵化，错失创新机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持严谨认真的工作作风，踏实做事、认真履职，积累实力与人脉。学会宽容待人，适当降低对他人的要求，灵活变通工作法，加强团队沟通协作。范职场小人，低调做事、远离是非，注提升自身能力，以实力应对竞争。

戌狗对应地支 “戌”，五行属土，天忠诚正直、责任心强，善良勇敢、踏实可靠，事业中任劳任怨、勤恳付出，对工作尽职尽责，对团队忠诚二，靠诚信与担当立足。2026 丙午马年，寅午戌三，属狗人全年贵人扎堆，事业能见度飙升，有掌权、晋升机会，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，三之力加持，运势上升，事业机遇多多。

职场表现上，当日戌狗工作认真负责、勤恳踏实，做事任劳任怨、不斤斤计较，能全身心投入工作，完成交办的各项任务。在团队中是可靠的存在，忠诚正直，受同事信赖与器重，能获得团队成员的支持与认可。对于从事教育、能源、餐饮、公益、行政、安保等行业的属狗人，当日行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得不错成果。

机遇契机面，当日属狗人贵人运强劲，事业上有跨部门作、对外拓展的机会，易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，作项目进顺利。有机会获得晋升、掌权的契机，接手核心工作，展现个人力与责任心。此外，当日适参与行业交流活动，拓展人脉资源，为事业发展创造多机遇。

潜在阻碍上，当日属狗人易因过于忠诚正直、不懂变通，在复杂的职场环境中吃亏，被小人利用，或因直言不讳得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。同时，做事过于保守谨慎，缺乏冒险精，不敢主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。此外，工作中易因过于劳累、不懂劳逸结，致精力不足，影响工作率。

发展建议：当日宜保持忠诚正直的本，踏实做事、诚信待人，用实力与担当赢得认可。适当学会灵活变通，把握职场沟通技巧，避直言不讳得罪他人。破保守心态，主动争取发展机遇，敢于尝试新事物、新挑战；理安排工作与休息，保持充沛精力。

亥猪对应地支 “亥”，五行属水，天温和善良、豁达乐观，待人真诚、与世争，事业中踏实肯干、心态平和，不贪图名利、不喜纷争，靠沉稳与善良立足。2026 丙午马年，运势平稳大波动，适耕主业、磨技能，稳中求进，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水木相生，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日亥猪心态平和、工作踏实认真，做事有条不紊、耐心细致，能按部就班完成本职工作，态度端正、责任心强。待人真诚友善，不与人争执，与同事相处融洽，团队协作氛围和谐，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量。对于从事农业、养殖、食品、物流、酒店、公益等行业的属猪人，当日行业运势平稳，工作开展顺利，易获得稳定成果。

机遇契机面，当日属猪人事业发展平稳，虽重大机遇，但能在平稳中积累成果，适耕本职工作，磨业技能，夯实事业基础。职场中人际关系和谐，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小，心情舒畅。此外，当日适维护客户关系、巩固作资源，为后续事业稳定发展提供保障。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猪人易因过于佛系、缺乏进取心，安于现状、不愿突破，致事业发展停滞不前，难以获得晋升机会。同时，温和善良的格易被人利用，遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，做事缺乏主见，易受他人影响，盲目跟风，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持踏实平和的心态，耕本职工作，积累经验与成果，稳步进事业发展。适当增强进取心，树立长远目标，主动学习提升，突破自我局限。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，维护自身职场权益；培养立思考能力，坚定自身立场，不盲目跟风。

恰逢壬辰月丙子日，天干地支水火既济，气场流转兼具活力与沉稳，为十二生肖的事业运势铺就了差异化的发展基调。十二生肖作为传统命理文化的核心载体，对应不同地支五行，在当日时空能量的影响下，事业机遇、挑战与发展向各有征兆。

子鼠对应地支 “子”，五行属水，天机敏灵动、思维活跃，擅长捕捉细节、把握机遇，在事业中多以智慧取胜、灵活应变见长。2026 丙午马年，子水与午火相冲，属鼠人全年事业运势波动较大，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子水当令，形成 “日禄归时” 的吉局，丙火又为子鼠正财，事业与财运迎来双重利好，是当月难得的事业光日。

职场表现上，当日子鼠精力充沛、精头十足，工作率较平日大幅提升，思维清晰且具洞察力，能快速梳理繁杂工作，抓住核心关键，轻松应对各类突发问题。上班族在团队中话语权提升，暗中有同事主动帮衬，此前积压的棘手任务可进收尾，绩表现亮眼，容易获得的关注与认可。对于从事创意、策划、文案、金融、物流等行业的属鼠人，当日灵感迸发，创意想法新颖到，提出的案易被采纳，甚至有机会主小型核心项目，展现个人业能力。

机遇契机面，当日属鼠人贵人运暗藏，职场中易遇低调务实的前辈或点拨，指点工作盲区与发展向，为后续职业晋升埋下伏笔。从事自由职业、自主创业的属鼠人，当日客源稳定，作洽谈顺利，容易对接优质客户，达成作意向，小众业也有小额收益入账。此外，当日适主动沟通对接，跨部门协作、对外业务拓展阻力较小，易取得突破进展。

潜在阻碍上，需警惕水过盛带来的急躁心态，部分属鼠人可能因急于求成，在细节处理上疏忽大意，致小失误频发，影响工作口碑。同时，职场中虽贵人助力多，但也需范小人暗中嫉妒，避随意泄露工作核心信息、谈论他人是非，止被人抓住把柄，引发不要的职场纠纷。

发展建议：当日宜保持机敏优势，主动出击、抓机遇，积汇报工作成果，争取多发展资源。工作中注重细节把控，戒骄戒躁，避因急躁出错。拓展人脉时保持真诚低调，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业长远发展铺垫基础。

丑牛对应地支 “丑”，五行属土，天勤恳踏实、沉稳坚韧，做事严谨负责、吃苦耐劳，事业中奉行厚积薄发，靠日积月累的努力站稳脚跟。2026 丙午马年，丑午相害，属牛人全年事业运势 “先抑后扬”，易遇小人阻碍与人际摩擦，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子丑六，土厚气稳，丙火为丑牛正印，长辈、助力强劲，事业迎来稳中带升的利好局面。

职场表现上，当日丑牛延续贯的务实作风，工作态度认真严谨，做事有条不紊，能按部就班完成本职工作，质量与率兼具。对于从事行政、建筑、农业、教育、制造等行业的属牛人，当日工作进顺畅，熟悉的业务域易出成果，长期耕的工作内容迎来阶段回报。上班族在团队中是可靠的存在，交办的任务能放心交付，容易获得的信任与器重，有机会接触核心工作，展现扎实的业功底。

机遇契机面，当日属牛人贵人运盛，六之力加持下，易遇长辈、提携，可能迎来意想不到的晋升机会或重要项目委派，这是长期勤恳付出换来的回报。部分属牛人可能接到跨界作邀请或岗位调整通知，虽有挑战，但是突破职业瓶颈的佳契机。同时，当日适参与培训、学习进修，提升业技能，对长远职业发展助力大。

潜在阻碍上，丑牛天偏保守固执，当日可能因固守固有思维，不愿接受新事物、新法，错失创新发展的机遇。此外，虽整体人际和谐，但仍需范职场小人暗中使绊，避因固执己见与同事发生分歧，影响团队协作氛围。重要文件、同需反复核对，避因疏忽出现纰漏，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜放下保守心态，勇敢接受新任务、新挑战，灵活变通工作法，突破职业瓶颈。保持勤恳务实的作风，低调做事、踏实做人，妥善维护职场人际关系，远离是非纷争。主动向请教学习，把握贵人助力，为晋升发展创造有利条件。

寅虎对应地支 “寅”，五行属木，天勇猛果敢、自信张扬，行动力强，敢于突破常规、开拓创新，事业中自带气场，擅长把握风口机遇。2026 丙午马年，寅午三，属虎人全年事业运势顺势上扬，火力加持下才华与行动力爆发，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势余温未散，三之力仍在，事业运势延续盛态势，机遇与发展空间并存。

职场表现上，当日寅虎气场全开，行动力拉满，工作进有序，干劲十足，能快速攻克工作难点，此前积压的复杂任务可完成。上班族在团队中易成为核心人物，力凸显，能有协调团队成员，动项目落地，绩表现突出，金、提成有望足额甚至额到账。对于从事能源、餐饮、教育、销售、管理等行业的属虎人，当日木火相生，行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属虎人事业机遇不断，有外出对接、拓展业务的佳机会，适开拓新市场、发展新客户，跨界作成功率较。创业人士、企业经营者当日运势利好，适布局新项目、拓展新渠道，在火相关行业易实现营收大幅增长。此外，当日有机会接手核心新项目，展现个人能力，为后续薪资提升、职位晋升铺路。贵人运强劲，遇困难时易有贵人出手相助，指点迷津。

潜在阻碍上，当日需范天贼、地兵凶煞带来的阻碍，易出现工作突发状况，如作分歧、案临时变等，需提前做好应对准备。同时，属虎人天强势，当日可能因锋芒过露、过于自我，忽视同事建议，引发人际矛盾，甚至遭小人嫉妒，暗中制造阻碍。此外，核心信息易泄露，需做好保密工作，避因信息外泄造成损失。

发展建议：当日宜充分发挥果敢优势，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进新项目、新计划。做事保持低调谦逊，多倾听同事与前辈的建议，收敛锋芒，妥善处理职场人际关系。强化保密意识，谨慎处理核心工作信息，提前预判风险，从容应对突发状况。

卯兔对应地支 “卯”，五行属木，天温和儒雅、心思细腻，思维敏捷且具耐心，事业中擅长统筹规划、细致执行，追求平稳顺遂，不喜纷争。2026 丙午马年，卯木受午火克制，属兔人全年事业运势起伏不定，易遇瓶颈阻碍，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得玉堂、少微吉护佑，运势顺遂，事业迎来平稳利好期。

职场表现上，当日卯兔思路清晰、心态平和，做事且细致入微，能有条不紊地进各项工作，规避细节失误，工作质量。上班族擅长梳理工作脉络，理规划工作进度，不仅能顺利完成当日本职工作，还能处理额外事务，获得认可。对于从事文化、艺术、设计、行政、文秘、教育等行业的属兔人，当日细腻优势凸显，创意设计、文案撰写、资料整理等工作易出精品，工作成果备受肯定。

机遇契机面，当日属兔人事业稳步发展，虽重大突破，但能在平稳中积累成果，适梳理规划后续工作，为长远发展铺垫基础。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。部分属兔人有机会参与重要会议、项目研讨，展现个人见解，提升职场存在感。

潜在阻碍上，当日属兔人需避过于保守谨慎，因害怕出错而不敢尝试新事物、主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，不宜做重大决策，如跳槽、转行、创业等，当日运势平稳，重大决策易因考虑不周出现失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持细致的工作风格，稳扎稳进工作，积累经验与成果。适当破保守心态，在适时机主动展现个人能力，争取发展机遇。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，妥善维护自身职场权益，避卷入人际纷争。

辰龙对应地支 “辰”，五行属土，天尊贵大气、自信睿智，格局宏大、眼光长远，事业中自带强者气场，追求卓越成就，擅长掌控全局、引向。2026 丙午马年，辰土生午火，属龙人全年事业运势平稳向上，有机会展现才能，但易锋芒过露，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得三、武曲吉助力，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。The affair dragged on, irresistible passion matched with immovable affection. Swift was Dean of St. Patrick’s, known to be the friend, and by some gossips thought to be the husband, of Stella, who, though she[Pg 163] did not live at the deanery, was the centre of such life as it had. He refused to give the world the least excuse for regarding Vanessa as his mistress. He smothered her with discretion, hating it yet unable to take a final stand at one extremity or another. When he had snubbed her long enough to put an end to any ordinary suit, he would turn kind, would insist upon his esteem and admiration, and so would once more rouse her. He could or would not learn that her love and his kindness were oil and water.

During the half-dozen dark years after he left the Court for Ireland he perversely relished the secret drama, whatever form it took, and let himself be drawn into various cautious meetings with Vanessa. When, towards the end of that eclipse, he began to be more thoroughly himself, he became less cautious. His whole nature, as if by some rejuvenation, expanded. He took up the cause of Ireland against the Whigs. He wrote verses, tender, intimate, teasing, to Stella. As if he thought the conflict between him and Vanessa was settled, he tried to get back to the old footing.

Instantly her desire flared up. “I here tell you,” she wrote to him, “that I have determined to try all manner of human arts to reclaim you.” He did what he could to laugh off her seriousness, even to praising the art with which she wrote. Nothing would now quiet her. His least kindness intoxicated her. When he told her to use assumed names in her letters, which he was[Pg 164] afraid might be opened, and dashes for “everything that may be said to Cad—— at beginning or conclusion,” she was suddenly in raptures over sharing secrets with him. “—— —— —— —— Cad——, you are good beyond expression, and I will never quarrel again if I can help it.” Swift did not take warning.

“What would you give,” he asked her in August 1720, “to have the history of Cad—— and —— exactly written, through all its steps, from the beginning to this time? I believe it would do well in verse, and be as long as the other. I hope it will be done. It ought to be an exact chronicle of twelve years, from the time of spilling the coffee to drinking of coffee, from Dunstable to Dublin, with every single passage since. There would be the chapter of the blister; the chapter of Madam going to Kensington; the chapter of the Colonel’s going to France; the chapter of the wedding, with the adventure of the lost key; of the strain; of the joyful return; two hundred chapters of madness; the chapter of long walks; the Berkshire surprise; fifty chapters of little times; the chapter of Chelsea; the chapter of swallow and cluster; a hundred whole books of myself and so low; the chapter of hide and whisper; the chapter of Who made it so? My sister’s money.”

Vanessa, answering that “it would be too much once to hope for such a history,” asked him “did those circumstances crowd on you, or did you recollect them to make me happy?” But, though she might suspect[Pg 165] that he had meant to please her, she could not help exulting that he had remembered. She was not sure friendship had such a memory. She knew love had.

Swift had suggested that he might, for the first time, visit her at Celbridge. “Is it possible you will come and see me? I beg for God sake you will.” He did visit her. Back in Dublin he advised her to take more exercise, be cheerful, “read pleasant things that will make you laugh, and not sit moping with your elbows on your knees on a little stool by the fire.”

Vanessa was out of hand. “I ... here declare that ’tis not in the power of art, time, or accident to lessen the unexpressible passion which I have for — — —. Put my passion under the utmost restraint, send me as distant from you as the earth will allow, yet you cannot banish those charming ideas which will ever stick by me whilst I have the use of memory. Nor is the love I bear you only seated in my soul, for there is not a single atom of my frame that is not blended with it.... For heaven’s sake tell me what has caused this prodigious change in you which I have found of late. If you have the least remains of pity for me left, tell me tenderly. No, don’t tell it so that it may cause my present death; and don’t suffer me to lead a life like a languishing death, which is the only life I can lead if you have lost any of your tenderness for me.”

Swift did not reply. The death of Vanessa’s sister revived the correspondence, which went on with the[Pg 166] same disparity. “The worst thing in you and me,” he wrote, “is that we are too hard to please, and whether we have not made ourselves is the question.... We differ prodigiously in one point: I fly from the spleen to the world’s end, you run out of your way to meet it.” He urged her—Swift of all men—to accept what came and be pleased with it. She did her best to be the kind of philosopher he specified, but “I find the more I think the more unhappy I am.”

In his last surviving letter to her he reminded her of the pleasant episodes “of Windsor, Cleveland Row, Ryder Street, St. James’s, Kensington, the Sluttery, the Colonel in France.... Cad thinks often of these, especially on horseback, as I am assured. What a foolish thing is time, and how foolish is man who would be as angry if time stopped as if it passed.” This was in August 1722. Vanessa died in June 1723.

The end of the story is all gossip. It says that Vanessa, unable to endure her jealousy, wrote to Swift, or to Stella, asking if it were true that Stella was Swift’s wife. It says in one account that Stella answered that she was, in another that she sent the letter to Swift to answer. It says that Swift took the letter from Vanessa to Stella, or to him, and with it rode savagely to Celbridge, entered the room where Vanessa was, threw down the letter, gave Vanessa a look which for the last time struck her dumb and, without one of his “killing, killing words,” left the house. It says that[Pg 167] Vanessa thereupon changed her will, leaving her fortune to strangers, not to Swift, and died.

All gossip, any of it true, or none. Vanessa did leave her fortune to strangers and did not mention Swift among the friends to whom she gave small legacies to buy mourning rings. Something had parted Cadenus and Vanessa before she died. The parting was natural, but tragically late. She had loved a man whose thoughts, she said, “no human creature is capable of guessing at, because never any one living thought like you.” She had spent her life trying to win him, and he had let her spend it. Dying, she planned what revenge was left to her, the publication of his poem about Cadenus and Vanessa and of the letters between them.

When the poem, though not the letters, appeared in 1726 to the comfort of his enemies, Swift kept silence. It had been, he told a friend, a “cavalier business,” “a private humoursome thing which by an accident inevitable and the baseness of particular malice” had been made public. “I never saw it since I writ it.” He refused to “use shifts or arts” to justify himself, “let people think of me as they please.... I have borne a great deal more.” He had gone through what was comedy for him and tragedy for Vanessa. Others must make up their own minds, if they had them, about who was to blame, if there must be blame, when a universal Héloïse encountered a special Abélard.

[Pg 168]

3

With whatever remorse, with whatever relief, with whatever concern for scandal, Swift the day after Vanessa’s death left Dublin for the south of Ireland. Stella and Dingley were to spend the summer in the country at a friend’s house. About Vanessa, so far as any record shows, Swift was silent, except to refer in a letter to her “incontinence in keeping secrets.” And Stella was silent, except to remark, when she heard her rival praised, that the Dean could write finely about a broomstick. If there was between Swift and Stella such silence about Vanessa as they kept towards the world it was a silence beyond conjecture. The facts are drama enough. Stella went noiselessly in one direction. Swift went restlessly in another.

By the end of June he had made his way past Cork and had written a Latin poem on the rocks at Carbery where the ocean tore at the cliffs. By the beginning of August he had come up the west to Galway, still a hundred miles from home and “half weary of the four hundred I have rid.” Late in September he was back in Dublin. Stella returned to town. Swift greeted her with his old raillery. She had been spoiled, he said, by the “generous wines and costly cheer” of Wood Park, and tried to ape them on her income.

“Thus for a week the farce went on;

When, all her country savings gone,[Pg 169]

She fell into her former scene,

Small beer, a herring, and the Dean.”

Esther Johnson (Stella)

Painted probably after Vanessa’s death

It happened that during his absence from Dublin both Pope and Bolingbroke, and a little later Arbuthnot, took up the correspondence which they, and Swift more than they, had recently neglected. Fresh memories of England stirred in him. He exchanged affectionate letters with the Duchess of Ormond and Lady Masham. He wrote to Oxford demanding the bribe of a letter and a picture, “for who else knows how to deliver you down to posterity?” Bolingbroke had written: “I have vowed to read no history of our own country till that body of it which you promise to finish appears.” Swift thought often of making himself the real historiographer of those buried, unforgotten years, in spite of the dullard who had the title. But he was not yet ready for history. He was still alive to the events passing under his bitter eyes.

Swift hated Ireland because it was his place of banishment: “the whole kingdom a bare face of nature, without houses or plantations; filthy cabins, miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape; one insolent, ignorant, oppressive squire to be found in twenty miles riding; a parish church to be found only in a summer day’s journey, in comparison with which an English farmer’s barn is a cathedral; a bog of fifteen miles round; every meadow[Pg 170] a slough, and every hill a mixture of rock, heath, and marsh; and every male and female, from the farmer inclusive to the day-labourer, infallibly a thief and consequently a beggar, which in this island are terms convertible.” “The old seats of the nobility and gentry all in ruins, and no new ones in their stead.” “The wretched merchants, instead of being dealers, are dwindled to pedlars and cheats.” As to trade, “nothing worth mentioning except the linen of the north, a trade casual, corrupted, and at mercy, and some butter from Cork.” The ports and harbours were of no more use “than a beautiful prospect to a man shut up in a dungeon.” Travellers never came to Ireland, since they might expect to find there nothing but misery and desolation. Whoever could leave the kingdom left at the first chance and stayed away till the last excuse. Dublin was a “beggarly city,” one-seventh of its houses falling in ruins, its populace hungry, idle, dissolute, dirty, and noisy. Though it was the capital of an ancient kingdom, the government was wholly in the hands of Englishmen who, blind to every interest but their own, lived there as little as they could manage.

No theoretical doctrine of liberty moved Swift to take up the Irish cause. “I do profess without affectation,” he explained to Pope, “that your kind opinion of me as a patriot, since you call it so, is what I do not deserve; because what I do is owing to perfect rage and resentment, and the mortifying sight of slavery, folly,[Pg 171] and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live.”

On the Catholic majority, those “savage old Irish,” he spent little sympathy. They might be above the vermin of the island but they were below the voters. He had no patience with the Dissenters. They were outside the Church and to that extent outside his Ireland. Ireland for him was the English settled there, the noblemen, the landlords, the clergy, the lawyers, the merchants. Their ancestors had come to rule the conquered province. They themselves ought now to rule it. Instead, they were called Irish, which they were not, and in turn were ruled by the newest English, a changing garrison of place-men. Men born in Ireland could not hope for posts at home. They had either to rot on their estates or to go abroad while their tenants were racked to support them in a dingy splendour. The Irish Parliament had no power. The laws, all made in England, condemned Ireland to poverty. Cattle could not be shipped to England, woollen goods could not be shipped anywhere. Without a free hand in agriculture, manufacture, or trade, Ireland from being so long bound was numb or sodden.

Mortified by finding himself in exile among slaves, Swift first despised them and then hated their tyrants. The tyrants were the Whigs who had driven him out of power. He could not become a slave. He could not[Pg 172] endure a tyrant. Everything in his nature urged him to rouse the slaves and resist the tyrants. But he had the advantage, when he turned his fury loose, of a long experience in hating the party to which his enemies belonged.

Where his whole cause was so good Swift did not need to be fastidious about his particular occasion for attack. William Wood, an English ironmonger, in 1722 obtained a patent from the King to coin halfpence and farthings for Ireland for fourteen years. The Irish were not agreed that they needed new copper coins, certainly not to the amount of a hundred thousand pounds. The Irish were not consulted, nor even the Lord Lieutenant. Higher interests were involved. The patent had really been granted to the Duchess of Kendal, the King’s mistress, who sold it to Wood for ten thousand pounds. Walpole, Lord Treasurer, did not object. The Duchess had been loyal. The King was grateful. Through the method of the patent she could be rewarded, not by the King directly but indirectly by his Irish subjects, who already, if they had known it, contributed three thousand annually in pensions to the loyal lady. Since there was some risk, Wood deserved a profit for his trouble. The necessary copper would cost him sixty thousand pounds. When he had satisfied the Duchess he would still have thirty thousand, of which perhaps one-fifth would pay for the coinage and about one-seventh go to fees required[Pg 173] by the patent. As jobs went in the government of Ireland under Walpole, the profit was not unheard of.

But the failure to consult the Irish had angered them. Their Parliament protested to the Treasury. Lord Carteret, a friend of Swift and now Secretary of State, was at odds with Walpole. Walpole, persisting, got Carteret appointed Lord Lieutenant early in 1724, to get rid of him in London. By the time he reached Dublin the whole country was in a passion.

The passion was led and guided by Swift. Walpole’s scheme, shabby, cynical, insulting, brought the satirist with a roar out of his long silence. He was as crafty as he was furious. Pretending to be a small tradesman named Drapier, he addressed, between April and November 1724, a series of letters to the shopkeepers, tradesmen, farmers, and common people, to his printer, to the nobility and gentry, to the whole people of Ireland. He was as furious as he was crafty. Wood was a “single, diminutive, insignificant mechanic.” He and his agents, trying to force upon the Irish the coins which the patent did not oblige them to accept, were “enemies to God and this kingdom.” “I will shoot Mr. Wood and his deputies through the head, like highwaymen or housebreakers, if they dare to force one farthing of their coin upon me in the payment of an hundred pounds. It is no loss of honour to submit to the lion, but who, with the figure of a man, can think with patience of being devoured alive by a[Pg 174] rat.” “I entreat you, my dear countrymen, not to be under the least concern upon these and the like rumours, which are no more than the last howls of a dog dissected alive, as I hope he hath sufficiently been.”

Swift did not dare to accuse the King, and he only hinted at the honorarium to the Duchess. It was the ministers who had planned this contemptuous oppression. It was Wood who was to his own advantage carrying it out at the expense of Ireland. If Wood’s copper became current every Irishman who received a coin, even in the smallest transaction, would get less than he gave, and every Irishman who paid out a coin would give less than he got. While Wood prospered “we should live together as merry and sociable as beggars, only with this one abatement, that we should have neither meat to feed nor manufactures to clothe us, unless we could be content to prance about in coats of mail or eat brass as ostriches do iron.”

Swift must have known that his arguments were false, must have known that the intrinsic value of such small coins did not matter and that they would be as good as any if they were used. He who gave and he who got could not be equally losers. But Swift did not boggle over economic niceties. Here was a principle. To accept the coins would be to surrender to tyrants and become slaves. As soon as he had stirred the public to a fear of losing money and had assured them[Pg 175] they could lawfully refuse the new halfpence and farthings, he moved towards a general position.

“Were not the people of Ireland born as free as those of England? How have they forfeited their freedom? Is not their Parliament as fair a representative of the people as that of England?... Are they not subjects of the same king? Does not the same sun shine upon them? And have they not the same God for their protector? Am I a freeman in England, and do I become a slave in six hours by crossing the channel?” “I have looked over all the English and Irish statutes without finding any law that makes Ireland depend upon England any more than England does upon Ireland. We have indeed obliged ourselves to have the same king with them, and consequently they are obliged to have the same king with us. For the law was made by our own ancestors, and our ancestors then were not such fools (whatever they were in the preceding reign) to bring themselves under I know not what dependence which is now talked of without any ground of law, reason, or common sense.” “All government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.” “The remedy is wholly in your own hands.... By the laws of God, of Nature, of nations, and of your own country you are and ought to be as free a people as your brethren in England.”

No voice like this had ever been raised by an Englishman in Ireland. All the Irish heard it. Never again[Pg 176] were its echoes to be long silent in that country. “Money,” Swift said, “the great divider of the world, hath by a strange revolution been the great uniter of a most divided people.”

On the day Carteret landed in October the fourth and most thorough-going of the Drapier letters was issued. Hawkers crying it through the streets met the Lord Lieutenant when he arrived in Dublin. Much as Carteret admired “that genius which has outshone most of this age and when you will display it again can convince us that its lustre and strength are still the same,” he could not, in his station, overlook the Drapier. He offered a reward of three hundred pounds for information leading to the discovery of the author within six months. All Dublin, including the Lord Lieutenant, knew that Swift had written the dangerous letters. But there was no legal proof, even if there was anywhere an informer. During the six months Swift dined at the Castle and entertained Lady Carteret at a party in his garden. When Carteret heard that Swift had “some thoughts of declaring himself” he advised against it. Their friendship, however, was not tested to the utmost. Walpole, seeing that the case was hopeless in such a tumult, gave it up. The patent was withdrawn in 1725 as an instance of royal favour and condescension. Wood was compensated with a pension of three thousand pounds a year for twelve years. Carteret later summed up his administration: “The[Pg 177] people ask me how I governed Ireland. I say that I pleased Dr. Swift.”

Swift, writing to Oxford’s son, apologized for his mention of the Irish brawl. “This is just of as much consequence to your Lordship as the news of a skirmish between two petty states in Greece was to Alexander while he was conquering Persia, but even a knot of beggars are of importance among themselves.” Yet Swift was too much a soldier not to enjoy a battle after a stupid peace. Though there were others in the field, he unmistakably commanded. The Grand Jury and the Liberty of St. Patrick’s, that part of Dublin over which he as Dean had civil jurisdiction, formally resolved against the hated coins, as did the butchers, the brewers, the newsboys or “flying stationers,” and the Black Guard. There were broadsheets on every corner, songs in every tavern, some of them written by Swift, all of them in support of the Drapier. While the furor lasted no jury would find anything seditious in any pamphlet or lampoon if Wood were mentioned. After the victory medals were struck in the Drapier’s honour, shops and taverns were named for him, women carried handkerchiefs with his picture woven on them. Something legendary began to enlarge Swift’s fame.

Irishmen who could barely spell out his arguments and knew only by hearsay that he was a man of learning who had been great in London were roused to veneration. They had thought of him as one of their[Pg 178] rulers sent from England, yet he had joined their cause against the English. He was not a tyrant but a patriot. Standing superbly against the dread, incalculable ministers, he had defended men and women to whom halfpence and farthings were important. They stood uncovered when he passed in the streets.

They could not know that he had acted, at least at first, out of hate for their slavery and folly and baseness, out of a fierce unwillingness to be slavish and foolish and base along with them. He who had had a hand in ruling an empire would not submit to being counted among the docile subjects of the province to which he had been banished. Private resentment had stirred him to public rebellion. He could not help it if what he had done for hate was the same as if he had done it for love. Such an outcome was only another proof that the world was wrong. Like Gulliver in Lilliput, wading home with the Blefuscudian fleet at the end of a packthread, Swift decently exulted. But he would not let himself forget that the adventure had taken place among the pigmies. Whatever he accomplished was a small affair. Great affairs were always maddeningly beyond him, or, he remembered his days with Oxford, behind him.

[Pg 179]

VI

TRAVELLER

1

Swift never set a foot outside Ireland or England except when he hurried across Wales on his restless journeys between London, the bright centre of his world, and Dublin, the dreary margin. Though he constantly diverted himself with books of travel, he found in them nothing which convinced him that he would anywhere meet more wisdom or less folly than he everywhere observed. The Scotch were a “poor, fierce northern people,” the Dutch grasping and shifty, the French frivolous and Catholic. If he had some liking for the Swedes it was because he was fascinated by Charles XII, that sudden, terrific king who had burst upon Europe from his cold peninsula and stirred philosophers to admiration by such a career as Swift would have chosen for himself. But dividing mankind into nations was little more than drawing lines on a map. The whole earth was inhabited by the human race.

Once Swift had hopes of going to Austria, once to[Pg 180] Sweden, once to France. Each time prevented, he hardly grumbled. If he thought of other countries it was for their better climate, which might, he said, have kept his wit and humour lively, as Ireland’s had not. “I imagine,” he wrote in 1724, “France would be proper for me now, and Italy ten years hence.” But he could not rouse himself from thinking about the world to travel far to look at it. There was his giddiness, which might at any time make him reel and fall. There was his deafness, which forced him to live “among those whom I can govern and make them comply with my infirmities.” There was the prospect of blindness. “My eyes will not suffer me to read small prints, nor anything by candlelight, and if I grow blind, as well as deaf, I must needs become very grave and wise and insignificant.” He was caged in Ireland, with nothing to do but pace his cage.

In Ireland, however, Swift was not confined to the cramped cottage at Laracor or to the hollow deanery in Dublin. During the twelve unbroken years of his banishment after 1714 he often visited other houses. His hosts could never have enough of him. Near Laracor were the houses of Peter Ludlow, George Rochfort, and Knightley Chetwoode. Near Dublin were the houses of the Grattans and Patrick Delaney and Charles Ford, with whom Stella spent a summer. Forty miles from Dublin was Thomas Sheridan’s ramshackle house which Swift could sometimes have to[Pg 181] himself. He is said to have visited an ancestor of the Earls of Llandaff in Tipperary. He visited the Ashes—St. George Ashe had been Swift’s college tutor—at Clogher in Tyrone, Robert Cope in Armagh, the Bishop of Dromore in Down. And during the summers of 1722 and 1723, when banishment had become almost unendurable, Swift made long, lonely journeys to the north and to the south. “I have shifted scenes,” he told Vanessa in July 1722, “oftener than I ever did in my life, and I believe I have lain in thirty beds since I left the town.”

Six hundred miles in the north, five hundred in the south the year following, all solitary and speculative. But these were not merely random travels in search of change and health. Though Swift was still incorrigibly Swift, he was also Gulliver, now with a purpose studying the despicable ways of men.

Gulliver’s travels were Swift’s travels, disguised with Swift’s wit, loaded with Swift’s hate. He gave years to them, as to nothing else he ever wrote about, five or six years thinking of them as Martin Scriblerus’s travels, nearly as long thinking of them as Gulliver’s or his own. “I am now writing a History of my Travels,” Swift told Ford in April 1721, “which will be a large volume, and gives account of countries hitherto unknown; but they go on slowly for want of health and humour.” By December of that year Bolingbroke knew about them. “I long to see your[Pg 182] Travels; for, take it as you will, I do not retract what I said, and will undertake to find in two pages of your bagatelles more good sense, useful knowledge, and true religion than you can show me in the works of nineteen in twenty of the profound divines and philosophers of the age.” In June 1722 Vanessa had read something about the giants. In January 1724 Swift was near the end. “I have left the Country of Horses,” he wrote to Ford, “and am in the Flying Island, where I shall not stay long, and my two last journeys will soon be over.” In July 1725 Bolingbroke referred to the pigmies and giants of which he had heard. In August, Swift wrote to Ford: “I have finished my Travels, and am now transcribing them. They are admirable things, and will wonderfully mend the world.”

In September, after a summer at Sheridan’s house in the country, Swift wrote to Pope: “I have employed my time, besides ditching, in finishing, correcting, amending, and transcribing my Travels, in four parts complete, newly augmented, and intended for the press when the world shall deserve them, or rather when a printer shall be found brave enough to venture his ears.” Thereafter all Swift’s friends waited to see how he would, as he said, “vex the world rather than divert it.” They could be sure he had written more than a story of imaginary voyages in a book. This would be Swift’s revenge.

In the days of the Scriblerus Club it had been[Pg 183] planned that Martin on his first voyage should be carried “by a prosperous storm to a discovery of the ancient Pygmean empire”; on his second should be “happily shipwrecked on the land of the giants, the most humane people in the world”; on his third should reach a “kingdom of philosophers who govern by the mathematics”; and on his fourth should, among beings not yet named, “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” These plans had broken up with the Club. Returning to this theme, Swift saw that the bungling Martin would no longer serve. If he were to be the traveller, much of the folly of the narrative would have to appear in his misadventures. Better to let the traveller be a plain, reasonable, unimaginative man who would report what he had seen in the language of common sense.

Swift’s nature included such a Gulliver. It included, too, an observer as alien to what went on around him as Gulliver could be on his most distant, most surprising island. “My disaffection to the world ... has never varied from the twenty-first ... year of my life.” Disaffection, singularity, had driven Swift, no less than most men, to think of himself as playing various rôles. At Kilkenny and Trinity he had been a tragic hero, neglected and abused by fortune. At Moor Park he had been a scholar in a garden, despising the rabble of wits and pedants. At Laracor he had been a soldier in a garrison, when there were wars[Pg 184] elsewhere. In London he had been the conscience and voice of ministers, insisting upon order and virtue in the state. In Dublin, exiled, he had turned from governing to resisting and had made himself the hammer of tyrants. Now he was a creature of a different race, thrown among men, full of antipathy for them, but full also of a scornful curiosity.

It was the best rôle he ever found. Without once taking ship to the corners of the earth as Gulliver did, Swift had moved about at home too large for the pigmies, too small for the giants, too sensible for the philosophers, too human for the animals. He had never been able quite to adjust himself to the scale of life as other men lived it. Other men, even when they had the pride of distinction, could submit. Swift could not. As if he were really an alien to the race, he had been obliged, whether he chose or not, to feel and act alien. Only once in more than fifty years had he found an occupation which truly involved him, and that only while a short delusion lasted. He had been unwilling to take a wife, though women desired and loved him. He had compromised so far as to have friends, but he was always conscious of the exceptions he was making. “I have ever hated all nations, professions, and communities, and all my love is towards individuals.... But principally I hate and detest that animal called man, although I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth. This is the system upon[Pg 185] which I have governed myself many years.... Upon this great foundation of misanthropy ... the whole building of my Travels is erected; and I will never have peace of mind till all honest men are of my opinion.”

If he had been fully alien he would not have troubled himself to be a missionary. He was a man to the extent that he was a moralist as well as a misanthrope. He would cure if he could. If not, he would punish. “Drown the world! I am not content with despising it, but I would anger it if I could with safety.” Here was the flaw in his misanthropy. Here was the strain of humanity through which he could be fretted and hurt. Here was the deep source of his fury. But he was alien enough to feel, dramatically, that he was only a traveller in strange lands.

Yet Swift was not a Timon, bawling and railing. Swift’s misanthropy was in his constitution, not in his disposition. His friends spoke always of his sweetness, his charm, his delightful temper, his hearty affections, his honest generosity. He had about him a magic almost like beauty’s magic. Nor did they think of him as morose and surly, whatever he said about himself. “Gulliver is a happy man,” said the experienced Arbuthnot, “that at his age can write such a merry work.” Swift on his travels could no more help the wit on his tongue than he could help the detestation in his heart.

[Pg 186]

He was as ingenious as he was grave. He took pains, with a few slips, to draw his pigmies and giants to scale, the pigmies an inch to a human foot, the giants a foot to a human inch. He deftly commandeered the inventions of earlier writers: Philostratus, Lucian, Rabelais, Cyrano de Bergerac, Perrot d’Ablancourt, Tom Brown. The nautical terms paraded in the voyage to Brobdingnag were copied almost word for word from a mariner’s handbook. Swift did not disdain to parody contemporary travellers. Whereas a mere misanthrope would have clamoured, a mere moralist would have scolded, Swift, being a wit, was satisfied to tell a story, pretending that he was a spectator who had no share in what he told. There were the characters, there were the incidents. They could be understood by anybody who had an understanding.

Consider the insectile people of Lilliput. Swift, in the guise of Gulliver, was at first received with dread, then with wonder, then with hospitality. Though they kept him a prisoner, they let him into the secrets of the Court and of the government, which were preposterously like England’s. The Lilliputian ministers to commend themselves to the king capered before him on a tight-rope. Gulliver, whose mind was part of Swift’s, remembered larger ministers. Flimnap, who could caper an inch higher than any other lord in the empire, seemed remarkably like Walpole. The great[Pg 187] men of Lilliput who sought honours from their king competed, by jumping over a stick held in his hand, for silken threads six inches long, one blue, one red, one green, which reminded Gulliver of the Order of the Garter, of the Bath, and of the Thistle.

Lilliput and the neighbouring Blefuscu had long been at war. A Lilliputian schism was the cause. Formerly all the people had broken their eggs at the larger end. One of their kings, having cut his finger on the larger end of one of his eggs, had by royal edict made the smaller end orthodox. There had been a civil war. Some of the defeated conservatives had fled to Blefuscu and had there found refuge and favour at the court. England, Gulliver reflected, had been entirely Catholic before Henry VIII. The Catholic Pretender had fled to France, and France had long been at war with England.

Grateful for the kindness shown him, Gulliver aided Lilliput in its war by capturing the Blefuscudian fleet and bringing it as a gift to his royal host. But the Lilliputians were no more grateful in return than the English had been to the Oxford ministry for ending the war with France. One party among the pigmies insisted that Blefuscu be subjugated to a province with a viceroy, as some of the Whigs had insisted France might be. The sourest of the tiny ministers became Gulliver’s enemy, as the dismal Nottingham had become Swift’s.

[Pg 188]

Gulliver’s chief offence was that, when a fire broke out in the queen’s apartment at the palace, he extinguished it in a manner more natural to him than agreeable to the queen. Had not Queen Anne implacably resented the spattering ridicule which Swift had let fall upon what he thought was menacing the Church and State? Thereafter the position of Gulliver in Lilliput was hopeless. The cabinet decided he must die. The friendly minister Reldresal, who may have stood for Carteret, thought it would be enough to blind Gulliver and allow him to starve to death.

From that compromise Gulliver escaped to Blefuscu, and back to England, knowing that the smallest people in the world had all the familiar follies and vices of mankind in general.

Next Swift, as Gulliver, was blown to the giants of Brobdingnag, that humane people. It was his turn to be insectile. He was exhibited as a toy freak by the kind, greedy farmer who had found him. Scientists wondered what species he could belong to. The king, being a philosopher, supposed that such creatures as Gulliver “have their titles and distinctions of honour; they contrive little nests and burrows that they call houses and cities; they make a figure in dress and equipage; they love, they fight, they dispute, they cheat, they betray.” And when Gulliver had defended his species by an account of their government and politics, their wars and luxuries, the king, being a[Pg 189] humane philosopher, concluded “your natives to be the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.”

He himself abominated mystery, refinement, and intrigue in governors. He limited government “to common sense and reason, to justice and lenity, to the speedy determination of civil and criminal causes.” He held that “whoever could make two ears of corn or two blades of grass grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before would deserve better of mankind ... than the whole race of politicians put together.” Gulliver, or Swift, sardonically despaired of such a monarch. His people were no better. Their learning was only in morality, history, poetry, and useful mathematics. They were unable to form conceptions of what Gulliver meant by “entities, abstractions, and transcendentals.” They were dull with virtue and peace.

Gulliver found in their habits less to remind him of England than he had found in Lilliput. His story was taken up with the ingenious shifts by which he got along among them. But after the giants he could not so easily return to the old scale of life as he could after the pigmies. His own people seemed contemptible by their smallness. He was twice as far from mankind as he had been before.

Swift’s, Gulliver’s, third voyage seems to have been[Pg 190] to the Country of Horses, but when he told the story he saved that for the venomous conclusion and in the third place put the account of the Flying Island and the continent which was topsy-turvy with philosophers.

Once more, as in Lilliput, he was often reminded of Europe. The name of Laputa was like the Spanish for harlot. The island, when its rulers wished, could hover over stubborn cities and shut out the sun, as England shut out the sun from Ireland. Whether aloft or on land the people were rapt in abstruse speculations or abandoned to fantastic projects. Among the islanders nobody spoke sense except, possibly, the tradesmen, women, and children. The others were so many pedants exaggerated from the breed that Swift had detested in his earliest satires. The Academy of Lagado was a Bedlam of Science, where men wore out their lives trying to extract sunbeams from cucumbers, to build houses downward from the roofs in the fashion of the bees and spiders, to plow fields only with the snouts of hogs, to make silk from spider webs, to cure colic with a pair of bellows, to soften marble for pincushions, to propagate naked sheep, to write books by a mechanical device, to discover painless methods of taxation.

Gulliver grew dizzy. He lacked the head, as Swift did, for this whirling universe. It did not steady him when, on the neighbouring island of Glubbdubdrib, he was allowed to call up the spirits of the famous[Pg 191] dead and found how falsely they had been presented in history. It did not steady him when in Luggnagg he learned of the immortal struldbrugs, for whom immortality was only human life prolonged to an infinity of horrible old age. “I ... thought,” said Gulliver, for Swift, “that no tyrant could invent a death into which I would not run with pleasure from such a life.” When he was out of the mad lands of Laputa, Balnibarbi, Glubbdubdrib, and Luggnagg, he was nearly upside down, giddy, and three times as far from mankind.

Now for the antipodes of misanthropy. Among the Houyhnhnms Gulliver was almost undisguisedly Swift. The day on which Gulliver set sail from Portsmouth was the precise day of September 1710 on which Swift had arrived in London to make his fortune with the new men in power. Gulliver’s discovery of an island where the horses were as much wiser and nobler as they were stronger than the men was such a discovery as Swift may have made as he rode through desolate, beggarly Ireland.

It is easy to guess, though only to guess, that the device came to his mind on that dark expedition to the south in the summer of 1723 after Vanessa’s death. Everywhere he saw the “savage old Irish,” “miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape,” living “in the utmost ignorance, barbarity, and poverty, giving themselves wholly up to idleness, nastiness, and thievery,” “brought up to steal or beg[Pg 192] for want of work,” so that to them “death would be the best thing to be wished for both on account of themselves and the public.” Swift had not yet reached the point where he could take up the cause of these miserable victims. He felt chiefly a sick repulsion. He would not admit that they and he were of the same kind. At least they must belong to a tribe which had degenerated till they were less than beasts.

Less than beasts? Compare them with his horse, healthy, patient, without follies or vices, incapable of pride. Horses, the animals Swift had most to do with and knew best, were more fit to rule than degraded men. Suppose some traveller should find a country where the horses did rule. Suppose Gulliver were to find it. The Scriblerus Club had not decided what race Martin was to visit on his fourth voyage, only that he was to “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” Nothing could disgust a traveller, even wholesome Gulliver, more than to study the horrid antics of a debased human tribe in the company of utopian horses who could see little difference between him and those apish copies. Gulliver had been disgusted among the giants when the maids of honour laid him against their terrible breasts. That had been only a shrinking of his senses. Now his soul itself must shrink with an absolute antipathy from which he could not recover. When he came back he would prefer the horses of England to the men.

[Pg 193]

With something like these gathering plans, though they must be guessed at, in something like this mood, which is certain enough, Swift rode through the south and west. In September he was in Dublin again. By the next January he had “left the Country of Horses.”

On his icy, fiery travels among the Houyhnhnms Swift (why call him Gulliver?) did not bother to observe such stinging likenesses to particular English persons and episodes as he observed among the pigmies and the philosophers. The last of his adventures was the simplest, as it was the most deadly. All actual fantasy, all apparent fact.

He came upon his first Yahoos without realizing that they were inferior men and upon his first Houyhnhnms without realizing that they were superior horses. When he found himself taken for a Yahoo he hurried to tell his Houyhnhnm master about Europe. He told him of wars, their causes, means, and ends; of litigation and the arts of lawyers; of money, and of poverty and riches; of luxury and dissipation; of diseases and their remedies; of ministers of state and noblemen. The reasonable Houyhnhnm said he had noticed the rudiments of all these human ways of life among the Yahoos.

They had their tribal and civil wars. They hoarded shining stones which they could not use, fought over them, and sometimes lost them to bystanders who snatched them away as expertly as any lawyer. They[Pg 194] gorged themselves with food and sucked a root that made them drunk. They had the only diseases in the country, because of their gluttony and filth. They had in most herds a sort of ruling Yahoo, always deformed in body and mischievous in disposition, who continued in office till a worse could be found. They were lewd and promiscuous. They were invariably dirty and sometimes splenetic. They had, it appeared, all the human vices except unnatural appetites, these “politer pleasures” not having occurred to them. They were unteachable because they were perverse and restive, but they had the brains to be cunning, malicious, treacherous, revengeful, insolent, abject, and cruel. It was plain to the Houyhnhnm who talked with Swift that the visitor was a Yahoo after all. That “small pittance of reason” which by some accident had been given to the European Yahoos they used only to multiply their natural corruptions and to acquire new ones not supplied by nature.

To be fully reasonable was to be like the Houyhnhnms. They did not know what lying was. They affirmed or denied only when they were certain. Their two principal virtues were friendship and benevolence, felt towards the whole species without partiality except where there were special virtues to attract them. In marriage they were without jealousy, fondness, quarrelling, or discontent. The young of both sexes were brought up in moderation, industry, exercise, and[Pg 195] cleanliness. Their only government was an annual council of the entire nation. They had no literature except poems composed, not written down, in praise of virtue. They were skilful workmen in the necessary arts, but wasted no time on superfluity or show. Reasonably born and bred, they lived reasonably without passions and died reasonably without sickness or fear.

“At first, indeed, I did not feel that natural awe which the Yahoos and all other animals bear towards them; but it grew upon me by degrees, much sooner than I imagined, and was mingled with a respectful love and gratitude that they would condescend to distinguish me from the rest of my species. When I thought of my family, my friends, my countrymen, or human race in general, I considered them as they really were, Yahoos in shape and disposition.” Swift would have remained with the Houyhnhnms for ever if they had not sent him away. The beasts could not tolerate a man. Nor could a man who had lived among the beasts ever again live among men without disgust.

The fourth voyage marked the peak of Swift’s fury and of his art. Great as that art was, it could not quite conceal that fury. The narrative might seem, however fantastic, to be the very mathematics of misanthropy, never looser than a syllogism. But the cold tread of intellect was repeatedly broken by the rush of nerves. The most reasonable sentence might suddenly throb with words of a shuddering hate. “Imagine twenty[Pg 196] thousand of them breaking into the midst of an European army, confounding the ranks, overturning the carriages, battering the warriors’ faces into mummy by terrible yerks from their hinder hoofs.” Intellect would have been satisfied with beating the European Yahoos down; nerves, furious and yet frightened at their own desperation, must imagine battering the noisome faces into mummy. Nothing less than an agonized antipathy could have made Swift remark that the female Yahoo who embraced Gulliver was not red-haired, “which might have been some excuse for an appetite a little irregular,” but “black as a sloe”—or as Stella. Hate possessed him as love possesses some other men.

If he had been a lover of his kind he might have been hot with praises for the lofty merits which he found in them, and might have seen the world smirk at his tribute. Instead, he was a hater. Was there not as good an excuse for hating as for loving? Was it any less accurate to perceive ugliness, deformity, vice, stupidity, loathsomeness in the human race than to perceive beauty, grace, virtue, wit, charm? Swift would have known that these were absurd questions, asked to no purpose. Mankind would always answer them for its own comfort, which demands that love must be, in moral arguments, preferred to hate. The crowded tribes of the earth lived too precariously to welcome the hate, however instinctive, which might[Pg 197] come among them to separate man from man, tribe from tribe, man from tribe. Only in the warmth of love could they live together. If the Swifts of the world must hate they must live alone, even if what they hated, as with Swift, was hate itself, along with cruelty, avarice, oppression, filth, intemperance, presumption.

All this Swift had learned. But he had no choice. His nature insisted upon taking its revenge as a coiled spring insists upon uncoiling as soon as it is free. He had travelled through the world. He would tell the whole truth about his travels.

2

A man who had been around the world and under it might after twelve years of banishment venture from Ireland to London. Swift’s friends had never ceased urging him to visit them again. He would only now and then allow himself to think of it.

“What can be the design of your letter but malice,” he wrote to Gay in January 1723, “to wake me out of a scurvy sleep, which however is better than none?... I shall not be able to relish my wine, my parsons, my horses, nor my garden for three months, until the spirit you have raised shall be dispossessed. I have sometimes wondered that I have not visited you, but I have been stopped by too many reasons, besides years and laziness, and yet these are very good ones.[Pg 198] Upon my return after half a year amongst you there would be to me desiderio nec pudor nec modus. I was three years reconciling myself to the scene and the business to which fortune has condemned me, and stupidity was what I had recourse to. Besides, what a figure should I make in London, while my friends are in poverty, exile, distress, or imprisonment, and my enemies with rods of iron? Yet I often threaten myself with the journey, and am every summer practising to ride and get health to bear it. The only inconvenience is that I grow old in the experiment.”

But in November 1724, Oxford having died, Oxford’s son invited Swift to come to England to write the biography which he had proposed. “There would be nobody more welcome to me than yourself. You should live in your own way and do just what was most agreeable to you. I have houses enough; you shall take your choice.” By September 1725 Swift had his Travels ready to be printed. With two such reasons for going he had no excuse for staying. His friends urged him with fresh tenderness and wit.

“I have often imagined to myself,” Pope wrote in October, “that if ever all of us met again, after so many varieties and changes, after so much of the old world and of the old man in each of us has been altered, after there has been such a new heaven and a new earth in our minds and bodies that scarce a single thought of the one, any more than a single atom of[Pg 199] the other, remains just the same—I have fancied, I say, that we should meet like the righteous in the millennium, quite in peace, divested of all our former passions, smiling at all our own designs, and content to enjoy the kingdom of the just in tranquillity.”

Arbuthnot, just recovering from a nearly fatal illness, had intended to add a postscript to Pope’s letter. He was so moved by what Swift had said—“Oh! if the world had but a dozen Arbuthnots in it I would burn my Travels”—that he wrote a letter of his own. “For God’s sake do not tantalize your friends any more. I can prove by twenty unanswerable arguments that it is absolutely necessary you should come over to England; that it would be committing the greatest absurdity that ever was not to do it the next approaching winter. I believe, indeed, it is just possible to save your soul without it, and that is all.”

Some feverish disorder kept Swift “sitting like a toad in a corner of his great house” for a part of that winter, but he had set his mind on England for the spring. “If you do not know me when we meet,” he told Pope, “you need only keep one of my letters and compare it with my face, for my face and letters are counterparts of my heart.” About the middle of March he was in London, in the best of health and spirits, Pope said, and “the joy of all here who know him, as he was eleven years ago.”

There were two weeks of joyful, leisurely reunion.[Pg 200] Pope left his villa for Swift’s lodgings. Arbuthnot “led him a course through the town” with such new men of fashion as Lord Chesterfield and William Pulteney (later the Earl of Bath). Harcourt and Peterborough made plans to introduce him to Walpole; Pope, though Arbuthnot got ahead of him, to the household of the Prince of Wales through Mrs. Howard, the Princess’s confidante. Swift visited Bolingbroke and Pope in the country, and by the first of April was ready, with Pope, “to ramble to Lord Oxford’s and Lord Bathurst’s and other places.” Pope found his guest “the best-natured and most indulgent man I know.”

Swift had come into a world as strange to him as the world he had found in 1710. Though the Whigs were in power, they were not the Whigs he had known. Somers, Halifax, Wharton, and Addison were dead. Congreve was alive, but gouty and almost blind. Steele was alive, but in Wales and paralyzed. The Tories Swift had known were scattered. Oxford had died, Ormond had settled in Spain, Bolingbroke, though pardoned and again in England, was excluded from the House of Lords. The Society of Brothers no longer dined together, men of influence with men of wit. Prior was dead.

Only in what had once been the Scriblerus Club was London much the same as Swift had left it, except that Parnell too was dead. Bolingbroke, formerly a kind of honorary member, now gave his time to[Pg 201] philosophizing near Uxbridge about the uses of retirement and scheming how to get back in power. Pope, having made a fortune out of Homer, had retired to his house and grotto at Twickenham and was brewing poison for the dunces. Gay, with a small sinecure and lodgings in the palace at Whitehall, was completing the fables which he wrote for Prince William, son of the Prince of Wales. Arbuthnot, still as always a man of learning, virtue, sense, and wit, called his house in London Martin’s office, though the Scriblerus Club had given up its regular meetings.

Swift, being Swift, could not withhold himself from politics. The authorities in Ireland warned the authorities in England to watch out for him. Walpole, who may have wanted to win Swift over and who may have wanted merely to learn about Irish affairs, invited Swift to dine with him at Chelsea and later to call on him in London. First and last they were at deadlock, however, though scandal buzzed about a treaty between them. Walpole’s opinions concerning Ireland, Swift said, “I could not reconcile to the notions I had of liberty.” “I was neither offered nor would have received” any promotion “except upon conditions which would never be granted.” By the end of April he was “weary of being among ministers whom I cannot govern, who are all rank Tories in government and worse than Whigs in Church, whereas I was the first man who taught and practised the direct contrary[Pg 202] principle.” If he had any hope it was in the opposition being organized by Pulteney and Sir William Wyndham, with the help and advice of Bolingbroke, and with the name of the Patriots. But Swift’s old zest, perhaps his old delusion, had gone.

“This is the first time I was ever weary of England and longed to be in Ireland,” he wrote to Sheridan. “But it is because go I must, for I do not love Ireland better nor England, as England, worse. In short, you all live in a wretched, dirty doghole and prison, but it is a place good enough to die in. I can tell you one thing, that I have had the fairest offer made me of a settlement here that one can imagine, which if I were ten years younger I would gladly accept, within ten miles of London and in the midst of my friends. But I am too old for new schemes, and especially such as would bridle my freedoms and liberalities.”

This was Swift’s way of saying that though some unknown patron had offered him a pleasant living in England, and it tempted him, he actually preferred Ireland, where he could be, as Dean, independent and liberal. He was closer to Ireland than he would admit. He did not during his stay in England even find time to go through the Oxford papers among which he had once thought he wanted to live over the days of his power, writing the history of the minister he had served and loved.

But if public affairs were disappointing, friendship[Pg 203] and wit, for which Swift had his genius, were all he had looked forward to. His friends would not take his politics too seriously. “I hope,” Bolingbroke wrote to “the three Yahoos of Twickenham, Jonathan, Alexander, John,” “Jonathan’s imagination of business will be succeeded by some imagination more becoming a professor of the divine science la bagatelle.” During May and June Swift was as cheerful as he ever urged others to be. He was at Twickenham with Gay and Pope, content to let the world go its way if they could laugh at it. “Mr. Pope ... prescribes all our visits without our knowledge, and Mr. Gay and I find ourselves often engaged for three or four days to come, and we neither of us dare dispute his pleasure.” Bolingbroke and Bathurst were not far away. Congreve came out to dinner. Mrs. Howard had a house at Marble Hill. The Prince of Wales’s court left London for Richmond where Swift made it his habit, as he put it, “to sponge a breakfast once a week.”

The days were as busy, if not as weighty, as they had been for Swift when he spent them with the Ministry, but in the evenings he played backgammon with Pope’s mother. Pope, Gay, and Swift went off for two weeks on horseback, to Lord Cobham’s house at Stowe, to Bathurst’s house at Cirencester, probably to Windsor Forest. Pope and Swift seem to have helped Gay with a ballad which he wrote at the inn at Wokingham. All three of them agreed upon a volume or[Pg 204] volumes of miscellanies in which, as Pope described it, they were to “look like friends, side by side, serious and merry by turns, not in the stiff forms of learned authors, flattering each other and setting the rest of mankind at naught, but in a free, unimportant, natural, easy manner, diverting others just as we diverted ourselves.”

At the same time, Twickenham saw them working upon bigger schemes. Gay had his fables, taking from the behaviour of animals the rules for human conduct which he wittily versified for the little prince. Pope, angry at the spiteful dunces who had envied his success, was paying them off in a satire. Swift at first had thought they hardly deserved it. “Take care the bad poets do not outwit you, as they have served the good ones in every age, whom they have provoked to transmit their names to posterity.” Swift himself almost never mentioned fools by name when he slaughtered them in prose or verse, unless the slaughter were political. But when he read Pope’s satire he changed his mind, as Pope had now changed his. Pope was going to burn the verses. Swift saved them from the fire. When three such wits had come together they might as well all whip the world. Let Gay have his moral animals, and Pope his dunces. Swift would take mankind.

They read and discussed his Travels. Pope and Swift thought of means of publishing the book so[Pg 205] stealthily that there would be no danger of prosecution. The printer, having seen a quarter of it, agreed to pay within six months the two hundred pounds which Pope made Swift demand. Only after Swift had left England the middle of August did the printer receive the manuscript, “he knew not whence, nor from whom, dropped at his house in the dark from a hackney coach” in which it is likely that the mystifying Pope enjoyed his subterfuge.

Secret enough, but not half as secret as Swift was about something dearer to him than any book. From the beginning of his visit he was worried about Stella, who was very sick at home but tried to keep the news from him. “I have these two months seen through Mrs. Dingley’s disguises,” Swift wrote in July. Early in that month he heard that Stella was in danger. Though it destroyed his peace, he said nothing to his friends in England. Bolingbroke knew that Swift had a friend called Stella and gallantly assumed she was his mistress. To Pope and Gay and Arbuthnot she was at most only a vague shape in Ireland. Neither at Twickenham nor at Whitehall, where Swift later lived with Gay, was she more than that. Swift, so long used to discretion where Stella was concerned, showed them a wit’s face, not a lover’s heart. But his letters to his friends in Ireland made plain how his grief had shaken him.

“What you tell me of Mrs. Johnson I have long expected,[Pg 206] with great oppression and heaviness of heart. We have been perfect friends these thirty-five years. Upon my advice they both came to Ireland and have been ever since my constant companions; and the remainder of my life will be a very melancholy scene when one of them is gone whom I most esteemed upon the score of every good quality than can possibly recommend a human creature.... My heart has been so sunk that I have not been the same man, nor ever shall be again, but drag on a wretched life till it shall please God to call me away.... I wish it could be brought about that she might make her will....

“Think how I am disposed while I write this, and forgive the inconsistencies. I would not for the universe be present at such a trial of seeing her depart. She will be among friends that upon her account and great worth will tend her with all possible care, where I should be a trouble to her and the greatest torment to myself. In case the matter should be desperate I would have you advise, if they come to town, that they should be lodged in some airy, healthy part and not in the deanery, which besides, you know, cannot but be a very improper thing for that house to breathe her last in. This I leave to your discretion, and I conjure you to burn this letter immediately, without telling the contents of it to any person alive.

“Pray write me every week, that I may know what steps to take; for I am determined not to go to Ireland[Pg 207] to find her just dead or dying. Nothing but extremity could make me familiar with those terrible words, applied to such a dear friend. Let her know I have bought her a repeating gold watch, for her ease in winter nights. I designed to have surprised her with it, but now I would have her know it, that she may see how my thoughts were always to make her easy. I am of opinion that there is not a greater folly than to contract too great and intimate a friendship, which must always leave the survivor miserable.... When you have read this letter twice, and retain what I desire, pray burn it and let all I have said lie only in your breast.

“Pray write every week.... I would rather have good news from you than Canterbury, though it were given me upon my own terms.”

What other lover who ever lived could, staggering with grief and dread, have talked about the terms of his lover’s will, measured her loss against the gain of an archbishopric, remembered that she must not die in his house, hesitated to go to her, and commanded that his anguish be kept secret?

“One of the two oldest and dearest friends I have in the world is in so desperate a condition of health as makes me expect every post to hear of her death. It is the younger of the two with whom I have lived in the greatest friendship for thirty-three years.... For my part, as I value life very little, so the poor casual remains[Pg 208] of it, after such a loss, would be a burden that I must heartily beg God Almighty to enable me to bear; and I think there is not a greater folly than that of entering into too strict and particular a friendship, with the loss of which a man must be absolutely miserable, but especially at an age when it is too late to engage in a new friendship. Besides, this was a person of my own rearing and instructing, from childhood, who excelled in every good quality that can possibly accomplish a human creature.... Pardon me, I know not what I am saying. But believe me that violent friendship is much more lasting and as much engaging as violent love.”

Towards the end of July, Swift, at Twickenham, was one day answering a letter from Sheridan. “The account you give me is nothing but what I have some time expected with the utmost agonies, and there is one aggravation of constraint, that where I am I am forced to put on an easy countenance. It was at this time the best office your friendship could do, not to deceive me.... I look upon this as the greatest event that can ever happen to me, but all my preparations will not suffice to make me bear it like a philosopher, nor altogether like a Christian. There hath been the most intimate friendship between us from her childhood, and the greatest merit, on her side, that ever was in one human creature towards another. Nay, if I were now near her I would not see her. I could not behave[Pg 209] myself tolerably, and should redouble her sorrow. Judge in what a temper of mind I write this. The very time I am writing I conclude the fairest soul in the world hath left its body.”

Just then Swift was interrupted. “Confusion! that I am this moment called down to a visitor, when I am in the country and not in my power to deny myself.”

He came back to his unfinished letter. “I have passed a very constrained hour, and now return to say I know not what. I have been long weary of the world, and shall for my small remainder of years be weary of life, having for ever lost that conversation which alone could make it tolerable. I fear while you are reading this you will be shedding tears at her funeral.”

In a week Swift knew that, no matter what he faced, he must go to Ireland. Pope, ignorant of the full reason, was so unwilling to lose his friend that he travelled with him to Chester. “I felt the extreme heat of the weather,” Pope said, “the inns, the roads, the confinement and closeness of the uneasy coach, and wished a hundred times I had either a deanery or a horse in my gift” to keep Swift in England or to make his journey more comfortable. But there were no words between them about Stella, as there were no words about her in any of the letters he wrote back to his English friends. Swift, so copious and eloquent about most of his passions, about this one was as quiet as a stone. Pope, who suspected something, risked only[Pg 210] a hint in his wish that “you may find every friend you have there in the state you wish him or her.” Talking about everything else in the world the two great wits rode in the uneasy coach to Chester, where Swift was prepared to find mortal news waiting for him. The only word from him about her is in a letter to an Irish friend two months later. “Mrs. Johnson is much recovered since I saw her first, but still very lean and low.”

3

Pope wished “that your visits to us may have no other effect than the progress of a rich man to a remote estate, which he finds greater than he expected, which knowledge only serves to make him happier where he is, with no disagreeable prospect if ever he should choose to remove.” And Swift, coming home from his rich estate in London, was received, Arbuthnot said, like a Lord Lieutenant. When the ship was sighted in Dublin Bay the bells of the city were set to ringing. The Corporation, with less official citizens, went out in wherries to meet the “Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver.” The docks had bunting, every street a bonfire. The populace cheered their defender as he landed and rode to his gloomy house.

If Swift was human, as well as Swift, he was warmed by this loud affection. But they were the people who had hooted him when he came over to be Dean, before[Pg 211] he had fought for them about their copper farthings. “I have often reflected in how few hours, with a swift horse or a strong gale, a man may come among a people as unknown to him as the antipodes.” Between Swift and the Irish, or between him and any body of men, it was too late for reconciliation. He had been an alien all his life, and he had proved it in his Travels. There the world would soon have a chance to study its disgusting face.

Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World, published 28 October 1726 to vex the world rather than divert it, diverted it. Nobody spoke or apparently even thought of prosecution. “The politicians to a man agree,” Pope and Gay wrote to Swift, “that it is free from particular reflections, but that the satire on general societies of men is too severe.” Politicians were no more disposed than they were obliged to defend the human race against a libel. Mankind, invincibly abstract, invulnerably obtuse to general assaults, laughed. “From the highest to the lowest” the book was read, “from the cabinet council to the nursery.” The Princess of Wales did not care, probably did not know, that she was supposed to have sat for the Queen of Brobdingnag. She was delighted. The Duchess of Marlborough was “in raptures” and willing to forgive her old enemy. Arbuthnot saw that the book was to be a classic, and forecast for it “as great a run as John Bunyan.” The first impression was sold within a week.[Pg 212] There were Dublin editions, and translations into French and Dutch within a year.

The third voyage, with its multiplied ridicule of pedants, pleased the least. That satire was too limited. Readers preferred to see all mankind in the refracting glass. Monkeys before a mirror, Swift might have said. They accepted the likenesses which they recognized, but they did not recognize those which might have vexed them. At least they did not take such likenesses to themselves. Untroubled by the satire, they enjoyed the story, so marvellous yet so circumstantial, so ingenious yet so simple. “Such a merry work,” Arbuthnot called it. Who was there who could fail to be diverted by these adventures among pigmies and giants, on an island that moved through the air, in a land where horses used men as beasts? Who minded that the traveller was a misanthrope? Misanthropy did not hurt its objects, so long as it confined itself to words.

Swift, accusing mankind of every vice and folly, had thought of it as more sensitive or less frivolous than it was. He let drive with all his pitiless force, and the world applauded his witty marksmanship.

Stella having for the time recovered, Swift went again the next April to England, where the Earl of Peterborough thought the Dean ran the risk of becoming a bishop. The second visit was an anticlimax. Swift made no progress with the life of Oxford. He was completely out of favour with Walpole. Twickenham,[Pg 213] happily as Pope welcomed Swift there, was not what it had seemed before. It was pleasant to talk with Pope about his dunces. It was pleasant to read the verses of the opera which Gay, to whom Swift had said that “a Newgate pastoral might make an odd, pretty sort of thing,” was writing about rogues and beggars. It was pleasant to concoct their miscellanies, in which the poems to Stella were to appear. But it was unpleasant for Swift to be so deaf that he could hardly hear Pope’s feeble voice or have a share in the conversation of the friends who came to see them. Swift began to feel that he was a burden. He would go to London.

He would go to France. Voltaire gave him letters of introduction. Swift exchanged opinions with his French translator, telling him, in his French, that if the Travels were calculated only for the British Isles then the traveller was a pitiable writer. The same vices and the same follies, he said, reigned everywhere, at least in all the civilized countries of Europe; and the author who wrote only for one city, one province, one kingdom, or even one age so little deserved to be translated that he did not deserve to be read.

The death of George I and the accession to the throne of the Prince and Princess of Wales, who were the only royal friends Swift ever had, held him in England. Once more, and for the last time, he was disappointed. Walpole, after a fluttering interval, retained[Pg 214] his power. Wit alone could not make a man a bishop.

Stella, it turned out, could not be well without Swift. He had left her settled in the deanery for the summer. In August Sheridan wrote that she was once more in danger. Swift, at the house of a kinsman in London, was helpless with his own malady.

“I walk like a drunken man, and am deafer than ever you knew me. If I had any tolerable health I would go this moment to Ireland. Yet I think I would not, considering the news I daily expect to hear from you.... I kept it [Sheridan’s letter] an hour in my pocket with all the suspense of a man who expected to hear the worst news that fortune could give him, and at the same time was not able to hold up my head.... I know not whether it be an addition to my grief or not, that I am now extremely ill; for it would have been a reproach to me to be in perfect health when such a friend is desperate. I do profess upon my salvation that the distressed and desperate condition of our friend makes life so indifferent to me, who by course of nature have so little left, that I do not think it worth the time to struggle. Yet I should think, according to what hath been formerly, that I may happen to overcome this present disorder. And to what advantage? Why, to see the loss of that person for whose sake only life was worth preserving.... What have I to do in the world? I never was in such agonies as when I received[Pg 215] your letter and had it in my pocket. I am able to hold up my head no longer.”

Still Swift would not tell his English friends about Stella. His secret had been buried in him too long to be dug up now. Too much of his heart would have come with it. Suddenly leaving London in September he lurched across England to Chester. Offered a passage from Parkgate in the official yacht, he refused, thinking he would be in Ireland sooner if he rode through Wales and shipped from Holyhead. There the winds delayed him for a week, spent in the smoky rooms of an inn which had no decent wine to drink, no books to read, no customers who could speak English.

Morning and afternoon he walked in the wind on the rocks. “I was so cunning these three last days that whenever I began to rage and storm at the weather I took special care to turn my face towards Ireland, in hopes by my breath to push the wind forward. But now I give up.” Every night he dined alone, and had five dreary hours ahead of him before he went to bed. Sleep was no relief. He had fantastic dreams, such as that Bolingbroke was preaching in St. Patrick’s and quoting Wycherley in his sermon. Morning was no restoration. Swift looked for the wind to change, and it would not change. “I live in suspense, which is the worst circumstance of human nature.” There was nothing to do but “scribble or sit humdrum.” He scribbled prose and verse.

职场表现上，当日辰龙气场沉稳，工作中展现出强的责任心与力，做事果断干练，决策，能有统筹各项工作，动项目有序进展。上班族在团队中是核心骨干，受信任，能立承担重要工作，虽重大突破，但稳步前行，工作成果稳步积累。对于从事管理、金融、地产、建筑、端制造等行业的属龙人，当日行业运势平稳，适耕本职、磨业能力，夯实事业基础。

机遇契机面，当日属龙人事业发展阻力较小，能得到同事、前辈的全力支持，进事宜顺风顺水，团队协作，易达成工作目标。适进升、业务优化等长期规划，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。部分属龙人有机会接触行业前沿资源，参与端项目作，拓宽事业格局。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕锋芒过露带来的负面影响，过于张扬强势易引发同事嫉妒，遭小人暗中诋毁，影响职场口碑。同时，属龙人眼光远，易忽视细节问题，在工作执行中可能因细节疏忽致小失误，影响工作成。此外，事业平稳期易产生懈怠心态，缺乏进取动力，致发展停滞不前。

发展建议：当日宜保持沉稳务实的作风，收敛锋芒、低调做事，多倾听他人建议，避过于强势引发人际矛盾。注重细节把控，兼顾全局与细节，提升工作质量。克服懈怠心态，树立长远目标，稳步进事业发展，积累实力等待机遇爆发。

巳蛇对应地支 “巳”，五行属火，天冷静睿智、心思缜密，洞察力强，擅长谋略策划、布局，事业中低调务实、暗藏锋芒，靠智慧与策略取胜。2026 丙午马年，巳午半，属蛇人全年事业运势强劲，贵人暗中相助，机遇源源不断，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火气相辅，运势利好，事业发展顺遂，机遇与挑战并存。

职场表现上，当日巳蛇头脑冷静、思维缜密，工作中具洞察力，能捕捉工作核心问题，提前预判风险，制定完善应对案。做事低调，不事张扬，默默进工作，总能在关键时刻展现惊人实力，工作成果令人刮目相看。对于从事金融、法律、科研、技术、策划、医疗等行业的属蛇人，当日业优势凸显，分析、技术攻关、案策划等工作易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属蛇人贵人运盛，有 “太阳” 星照拂，每当陷入困境时，总会有贵人及时出现提供助力，指点关键思路，化解工作难题。事业上适布局长线规划，开展长期作项目，与靠谱伙伴携手发展，成功率较。此外，当日适提升业技能，学习前沿知识，为职业晋升、事业拓展积蓄力量。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕小人环伺，身边不乏嫉妒者，流言蜚语与暗中压计并存，越是调张扬，越容易暴露自身破绽，给他人可乘之机。同时，属蛇人天多疑，当日可能因过度猜忌同事、作伙伴，影响团队信任，阻碍工作进。此外，工作中易因追求而过度纠结细节，致工作率降低。

发展建议：当日宜保持低调务实，收敛锋芒、谦逊做人，不与人争长短，远离是非纷争，万能胶生产厂家注本职工作。放下多疑心态，学会信任他人，加强团队沟通协作，凝聚力进工作。平衡主义与工作率，聚焦核心目标，进事业发展。

午马对应地支 “午”，五行属火，天热情奔放、活力四射，行动力强，热自由、敢于拼搏，事业中充满激情与干劲，擅长开拓进取、突破创新。2026 丙午马年，属马人值太岁本命年，自刑影响下事业波动较大，阻碍重重，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势稍缓，运势回升，事业阻碍减少、机遇增多。

职场表现上，当日午马摆脱此前的低迷状态，活力回归，工作干劲十足，执行力变强，能快速响应工作任务，进各项事宜。上班族容易得到、前辈的关注，之前提交的案、进的项目，当日容易有积反馈，工作认可度提升。对于从事销售、传媒、体育、餐饮、旅游等行业的属马人，当日活力优势凸显，业务拓展、客户对接、活动策划等工作开展顺利。

机遇契机面，当日属马人贵人缘变好，遇到工作难题时，身边同事、前辈愿意伸手帮忙，指点关键思路，化解工作困境。适主动进工作，对接新客户、洽谈作细节，容易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，此前卡住的作项目有机会突破瓶颈。部分属马人有机会展现个人才华，获得晋升、调岗的契机。

潜在阻碍上，本命年值太岁的影响仍在，当日事业仍有波动，计划易被突发状况乱，需做好灵活应对的准备。属马人子急躁，当日可能因急于求成、缺乏耐心，在工作细节上处理不当，引发失误，或与同事发生口角冲突，影响人际和谐。此外，不宜贸然开展风险项目、盲目跨界转型，易因准备不足遭遇挫折。

发展建议：当日宜保持热情活力，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进工作，展现个人能力。克制急躁心态，做事沉稳耐心，注重细节把控，避因冲动出错。遇事灵活变通，提前制定备选案，从容应对突发状况；远离风险决策，稳守主业、稳步发展。

未羊对应地支 “未”，五行属土，天温和善良、谦逊有礼，心思细腻、富有同理心，事业中待人真诚、踏实肯干，擅长团队协作、稳中求进。2026 丙午马年，午未六，属羊人全年运势佳，是马年职场天选之子，贵人运强劲，事业路升，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，六之力加持，运势持续盛，事业机遇满满。

职场表现上，当日未羊心态平和、工作认真负责，做事细致周到，能完成本职工作，且待人真诚友善，受同事喜与赏识。在团队中是协调者的角，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量，动项目顺利落地。对于从事服务、文化、教育、公关、设计、公益等行业的属羊人，当日人脉优势凸显，靠口碑与人脉动事业发展，成显著。

机遇契机面，当日属羊人贵人主动上门，赏识、同事帮扶，核心资源自动靠拢，不用费力竞争，就能轻松获得晋升、调岗机会。作运爆棚，伙创业、对接项目成功率，适拓展作渠道，开展跨界作，事业发展空间大幅拓宽。此外，当日有机会参与优质项目，展现个人才华，提升职场地位。

潜在阻碍上，当日属羊人运势过，易滋生骄傲自满心态，做事变得松懈马虎，忽视细节问题，致工作质量下降。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇小人占成果、背后诋毁，需提警惕，学会保护自身权益。此外，机遇过多时易陷入选择困境，因犹豫不决错失佳机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持谦逊低调，戒骄戒躁，踏实做事、认真履职，珍惜来之不易的机遇。果断决策、把握核心机遇，避因犹豫不决错失发展良机。强化自我保护意识，范职场小人，妥善维护自身权益，注事业长远发展。

申猴对应地支 “申”，五行属金，天聪慧机敏、活泼灵动，思维敏捷、反应迅速，擅长创新突破、灵活应变，事业中才华横溢、创意十足，靠智慧与创意立足。2026 丙午马年，火克金，属猴人全年事业运势上半年竞争激烈，后期转强，靠业技能取胜，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水火制衡，运势平稳，事业稳步发展。

职场表现上，当日申猴思维活跃、创意满满，工作中具创新意识，能提出新颖特的想法与案，破常规思维，为工作注入新活力。做事灵活，善于应对突发状况，能快速调整工作思路，适应工作变化。对于从事互联网、科技、创意、传媒、销售、自媒体等行业的属猴人，当日创意优势凸显，创新项目、创意产品易获得市场认可，工作成果亮眼。

机遇契机面，当日属猴人事业发展平稳，适耕业技能，磨核心竞争力，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。有机会拓展兴趣业，凭借创意与才华获得额外收入，拓宽收入渠道。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猴人易因聪明过头而浮躁，做事缺乏耐心，浅尝辄止，难以耕细节，致工作成果不够扎实，难以立足。同时，创意过多易分散精力，难以聚焦核心目标，致工作率降低，影响事业发展进度。此外，职场中易因口遮拦、言语随意，得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。

发展建议：当日宜收敛浮躁心态，沉下心来耕本职工作，磨业技能，将创意转化为实实在在的工作成果。聚焦核心目标，理分配精力，避因创意过多分散注意力，提升工作率。谨言慎行，避随意谈论他人是非，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业发展营造良好环境。

酉鸡对应地支 “酉”，五行属金，天精明干练、认真严谨，观察力敏锐、执行力强，做事追求、注重细节，事业中勤奋踏实、责任心强，靠努力与严谨取胜。2026 丙午马年，七星，属鸡人全年事业有表现空间，但伴随是非竞争，需积成长，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，运势平稳，事业稳中求进。

职场表现上，当日酉鸡工作态度严谨认真，做事丝不苟，注重细节与率，能完成各项工作任务，质量。观察力敏锐，能快速发现工作中的问题与漏洞，及时整改完善，避失误扩大。对于从事财务、审计、质检、文秘、行政、技术等行业的属鸡人，当日严谨优势凸显，细致类工作易出成果，受信任。

机遇契机面，当日属鸡人事业稳步发展，适夯实事业基础，积累工作经验与人脉资源，为后续晋升发展铺垫。职场中勤奋踏实的表现易被看在眼里，有机会获得额外工作机会，展现个人能力。此外，当日适学习新技能、提升业素养，增强职场竞争力。

潜在阻碍上，当日属鸡人易因过于追求而对自己和他人过于苛刻，引发同事不满，影响团队协作氛围。同时，七星影响下，职场竞争激烈，易遭小人计、背后诋毁，工作成果易被质疑，需提警惕。此外，做事过于固执，不愿接受他人建议，易致工作思路僵化，错失创新机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持严谨认真的工作作风，踏实做事、认真履职，积累实力与人脉。学会宽容待人，适当降低对他人的要求，灵活变通工作法，加强团队沟通协作。范职场小人，低调做事、远离是非，注提升自身能力，以实力应对竞争。

戌狗对应地支 “戌”，五行属土，天忠诚正直、责任心强，善良勇敢、踏实可靠，事业中任劳任怨、勤恳付出，对工作尽职尽责，对团队忠诚二，靠诚信与担当立足。2026 丙午马年，寅午戌三，属狗人全年贵人扎堆，事业能见度飙升，有掌权、晋升机会，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，三之力加持，运势上升，事业机遇多多。

职场表现上，当日戌狗工作认真负责、勤恳踏实，做事任劳任怨、不斤斤计较，能全身心投入工作，完成交办的各项任务。在团队中是可靠的存在，忠诚正直，受同事信赖与器重，能获得团队成员的支持与认可。对于从事教育、能源、餐饮、公益、行政、安保等行业的属狗人，当日行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得不错成果。

机遇契机面，当日属狗人贵人运强劲，事业上有跨部门作、对外拓展的机会，易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，作项目进顺利。有机会获得晋升、掌权的契机，接手核心工作，展现个人力与责任心。此外，当日适参与行业交流活动，拓展人脉资源，为事业发展创造多机遇。

潜在阻碍上，当日属狗人易因过于忠诚正直、不懂变通，在复杂的职场环境中吃亏，被小人利用，或因直言不讳得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。同时，做事过于保守谨慎，缺乏冒险精，不敢主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。此外，工作中易因过于劳累、不懂劳逸结，致精力不足，影响工作率。

发展建议：当日宜保持忠诚正直的本，踏实做事、诚信待人，用实力与担当赢得认可。适当学会灵活变通，把握职场沟通技巧，避直言不讳得罪他人。破保守心态，主动争取发展机遇，敢于尝试新事物、新挑战；理安排工作与休息，保持充沛精力。

亥猪对应地支 “亥”，五行属水，天温和善良、豁达乐观，待人真诚、与世争，事业中踏实肯干、心态平和，不贪图名利、不喜纷争，靠沉稳与善良立足。2026 丙午马年，运势平稳大波动，适耕主业、磨技能，稳中求进，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水木相生，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日亥猪心态平和、工作踏实认真，做事有条不紊、耐心细致，能按部就班完成本职工作，态度端正、责任心强。待人真诚友善，不与人争执，与同事相处融洽，团队协作氛围和谐，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量。对于从事农业、养殖、食品、物流、酒店、公益等行业的属猪人，当日行业运势平稳，工作开展顺利，易获得稳定成果。

机遇契机面，当日属猪人事业发展平稳，虽重大机遇，但能在平稳中积累成果，适耕本职工作，磨业技能，夯实事业基础。职场中人际关系和谐，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小，心情舒畅。此外，当日适维护客户关系、巩固作资源，为后续事业稳定发展提供保障。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猪人易因过于佛系、缺乏进取心，安于现状、不愿突破，致事业发展停滞不前，难以获得晋升机会。同时，温和善良的格易被人利用，遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，做事缺乏主见，易受他人影响，盲目跟风，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持踏实平和的心态，耕本职工作，积累经验与成果，稳步进事业发展。适当增强进取心，树立长远目标，主动学习提升，突破自我局限。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，维护自身职场权益；培养立思考能力，坚定自身立场，不盲目跟风。

恰逢壬辰月丙子日，天干地支水火既济，气场流转兼具活力与沉稳，为十二生肖的事业运势铺就了差异化的发展基调。十二生肖作为传统命理文化的核心载体，对应不同地支五行，在当日时空能量的影响下，事业机遇、挑战与发展向各有征兆。

子鼠对应地支 “子”，五行属水，天机敏灵动、思维活跃，擅长捕捉细节、把握机遇，在事业中多以智慧取胜、灵活应变见长。2026 丙午马年，子水与午火相冲，属鼠人全年事业运势波动较大，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子水当令，形成 “日禄归时” 的吉局，丙火又为子鼠正财，事业与财运迎来双重利好，是当月难得的事业光日。

职场表现上，当日子鼠精力充沛、精头十足，工作率较平日大幅提升，思维清晰且具洞察力，能快速梳理繁杂工作，抓住核心关键，轻松应对各类突发问题。上班族在团队中话语权提升，暗中有同事主动帮衬，此前积压的棘手任务可进收尾，绩表现亮眼，容易获得的关注与认可。对于从事创意、策划、文案、金融、物流等行业的属鼠人，当日灵感迸发，创意想法新颖到，提出的案易被采纳，甚至有机会主小型核心项目，展现个人业能力。

机遇契机面，当日属鼠人贵人运暗藏，职场中易遇低调务实的前辈或点拨，指点工作盲区与发展向，为后续职业晋升埋下伏笔。从事自由职业、自主创业的属鼠人，当日客源稳定，作洽谈顺利，容易对接优质客户，达成作意向，小众业也有小额收益入账。此外，当日适主动沟通对接，跨部门协作、对外业务拓展阻力较小，易取得突破进展。

潜在阻碍上，需警惕水过盛带来的急躁心态，部分属鼠人可能因急于求成，在细节处理上疏忽大意，致小失误频发，影响工作口碑。同时，职场中虽贵人助力多，但也需范小人暗中嫉妒，避随意泄露工作核心信息、谈论他人是非，止被人抓住把柄，引发不要的职场纠纷。

发展建议：当日宜保持机敏优势，主动出击、抓机遇，积汇报工作成果，争取多发展资源。工作中注重细节把控，戒骄戒躁，避因急躁出错。拓展人脉时保持真诚低调，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业长远发展铺垫基础。

丑牛对应地支 “丑”，五行属土，天勤恳踏实、沉稳坚韧，做事严谨负责、吃苦耐劳，事业中奉行厚积薄发，靠日积月累的努力站稳脚跟。2026 丙午马年，丑午相害，属牛人全年事业运势 “先抑后扬”，易遇小人阻碍与人际摩擦，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子丑六，土厚气稳，丙火为丑牛正印，长辈、助力强劲，事业迎来稳中带升的利好局面。

职场表现上，当日丑牛延续贯的务实作风，工作态度认真严谨，做事有条不紊，能按部就班完成本职工作，质量与率兼具。对于从事行政、建筑、农业、教育、制造等行业的属牛人，当日工作进顺畅，熟悉的业务域易出成果，长期耕的工作内容迎来阶段回报。上班族在团队中是可靠的存在，交办的任务能放心交付，容易获得的信任与器重，有机会接触核心工作，展现扎实的业功底。

机遇契机面，当日属牛人贵人运盛，六之力加持下，易遇长辈、提携，可能迎来意想不到的晋升机会或重要项目委派，这是长期勤恳付出换来的回报。部分属牛人可能接到跨界作邀请或岗位调整通知，虽有挑战，但是突破职业瓶颈的佳契机。同时，当日适参与培训、学习进修，提升业技能，对长远职业发展助力大。

潜在阻碍上，丑牛天偏保守固执，当日可能因固守固有思维，不愿接受新事物、新法，错失创新发展的机遇。此外，虽整体人际和谐，但仍需范职场小人暗中使绊，避因固执己见与同事发生分歧，影响团队协作氛围。重要文件、同需反复核对，避因疏忽出现纰漏，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜放下保守心态，勇敢接受新任务、新挑战，灵活变通工作法，突破职业瓶颈。保持勤恳务实的作风，低调做事、踏实做人，妥善维护职场人际关系，远离是非纷争。主动向请教学习，把握贵人助力，为晋升发展创造有利条件。

寅虎对应地支 “寅”，五行属木，天勇猛果敢、自信张扬，行动力强，敢于突破常规、开拓创新，事业中自带气场，擅长把握风口机遇。2026 丙午马年，寅午三，属虎人全年事业运势顺势上扬，火力加持下才华与行动力爆发，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势余温未散，三之力仍在，事业运势延续盛态势，机遇与发展空间并存。

职场表现上，当日寅虎气场全开，行动力拉满，工作进有序，干劲十足，能快速攻克工作难点，此前积压的复杂任务可完成。上班族在团队中易成为核心人物，力凸显，能有协调团队成员，动项目落地，绩表现突出，金、提成有望足额甚至额到账。对于从事能源、餐饮、教育、销售、管理等行业的属虎人，当日木火相生，行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属虎人事业机遇不断，有外出对接、拓展业务的佳机会，适开拓新市场、发展新客户，跨界作成功率较。创业人士、企业经营者当日运势利好，适布局新项目、拓展新渠道，在火相关行业易实现营收大幅增长。此外，当日有机会接手核心新项目，展现个人能力，为后续薪资提升、职位晋升铺路。贵人运强劲，遇困难时易有贵人出手相助，指点迷津。

潜在阻碍上，当日需范天贼、地兵凶煞带来的阻碍，易出现工作突发状况，如作分歧、案临时变等，需提前做好应对准备。同时，属虎人天强势，当日可能因锋芒过露、过于自我，忽视同事建议，引发人际矛盾，甚至遭小人嫉妒，暗中制造阻碍。此外，核心信息易泄露，需做好保密工作，避因信息外泄造成损失。

发展建议：当日宜充分发挥果敢优势，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进新项目、新计划。做事保持低调谦逊，多倾听同事与前辈的建议，收敛锋芒，妥善处理职场人际关系。强化保密意识，谨慎处理核心工作信息，提前预判风险，从容应对突发状况。

卯兔对应地支 “卯”，五行属木，天温和儒雅、心思细腻，思维敏捷且具耐心，事业中擅长统筹规划、细致执行，追求平稳顺遂，不喜纷争。2026 丙午马年，卯木受午火克制，属兔人全年事业运势起伏不定，易遇瓶颈阻碍，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得玉堂、少微吉护佑，运势顺遂，事业迎来平稳利好期。

职场表现上，当日卯兔思路清晰、心态平和，做事且细致入微，能有条不紊地进各项工作，规避细节失误，工作质量。上班族擅长梳理工作脉络，理规划工作进度，不仅能顺利完成当日本职工作，还能处理额外事务，获得认可。对于从事文化、艺术、设计、行政、文秘、教育等行业的属兔人，当日细腻优势凸显，创意设计、文案撰写、资料整理等工作易出精品，工作成果备受肯定。

机遇契机面，当日属兔人事业稳步发展，虽重大突破，但能在平稳中积累成果，适梳理规划后续工作，为长远发展铺垫基础。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。部分属兔人有机会参与重要会议、项目研讨，展现个人见解，提升职场存在感。

潜在阻碍上，当日属兔人需避过于保守谨慎，因害怕出错而不敢尝试新事物、主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，不宜做重大决策，如跳槽、转行、创业等，当日运势平稳，重大决策易因考虑不周出现失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持细致的工作风格，稳扎稳进工作，积累经验与成果。适当破保守心态，在适时机主动展现个人能力，争取发展机遇。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，妥善维护自身职场权益，避卷入人际纷争。

辰龙对应地支 “辰”，五行属土，天尊贵大气、自信睿智，格局宏大、眼光长远，事业中自带强者气场，追求卓越成就，擅长掌控全局、引向。2026 丙午马年，辰土生午火，属龙人全年事业运势平稳向上，有机会展现才能，但易锋芒过露，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得三、武曲吉助力，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日辰龙气场沉稳，工作中展现出强的责任心与力，做事果断干练，决策，能有统筹各项工作，动项目有序进展。上班族在团队中是核心骨干，受信任，能立承担重要工作，虽重大突破，但稳步前行，工作成果稳步积累。对于从事管理、金融、地产、建筑、端制造等行业的属龙人，当日行业运势平稳，适耕本职、磨业能力，夯实事业基础。

机遇契机面，当日属龙人事业发展阻力较小，能得到同事、前辈的全力支持，进事宜顺风顺水，团队协作，易达成工作目标。适进升、业务优化等长期规划，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。部分属龙人有机会接触行业前沿资源，参与端项目作，拓宽事业格局。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕锋芒过露带来的负面影响，过于张扬强势易引发同事嫉妒，遭小人暗中诋毁，影响职场口碑。同时，属龙人眼光远，易忽视细节问题，在工作执行中可能因细节疏忽致小失误，影响工作成。此外，事业平稳期易产生懈怠心态，缺乏进取动力，致发展停滞不前。

发展建议：当日宜保持沉稳务实的作风，收敛锋芒、低调做事，多倾听他人建议，避过于强势引发人际矛盾。注重细节把控，兼顾全局与细节，提升工作质量。克服懈怠心态，树立长远目标，稳步进事业发展，积累实力等待机遇爆发。

巳蛇对应地支 “巳”，五行属火，天冷静睿智、心思缜密，洞察力强，擅长谋略策划、布局，事业中低调务实、暗藏锋芒，靠智慧与策略取胜。2026 丙午马年，巳午半，属蛇人全年事业运势强劲，贵人暗中相助，机遇源源不断，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火气相辅，运势利好，事业发展顺遂，机遇与挑战并存。

职场表现上，当日巳蛇头脑冷静、思维缜密，工作中具洞察力，能捕捉工作核心问题，提前预判风险，制定完善应对案。做事低调，不事张扬，默默进工作，总能在关键时刻展现惊人实力，工作成果令人刮目相看。对于从事金融、法律、科研、技术、策划、医疗等行业的属蛇人，当日业优势凸显，分析、技术攻关、案策划等工作易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属蛇人贵人运盛，有 “太阳” 星照拂，每当陷入困境时，总会有贵人及时出现提供助力，指点关键思路，化解工作难题。事业上适布局长线规划，开展长期作项目，与靠谱伙伴携手发展，成功率较。此外，当日适提升业技能，学习前沿知识，为职业晋升、事业拓展积蓄力量。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕小人环伺，身边不乏嫉妒者，流言蜚语与暗中压计并存，越是调张扬，越容易暴露自身破绽，给他人可乘之机。同时，属蛇人天多疑，当日可能因过度猜忌同事、作伙伴，影响团队信任，阻碍工作进。此外，工作中易因追求而过度纠结细节，致工作率降低。

发展建议：当日宜保持低调务实，收敛锋芒、谦逊做人，不与人争长短，远离是非纷争，注本职工作。放下多疑心态，学会信任他人，加强团队沟通协作，凝聚力进工作。平衡主义与工作率，聚焦核心目标，进事业发展。

午马对应地支 “午”，五行属火，天热情奔放、活力四射，行动力强，热自由、敢于拼搏，事业中充满激情与干劲，擅长开拓进取、突破创新。2026 丙午马年，属马人值太岁本命年，自刑影响下事业波动较大，阻碍重重，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势稍缓，运势回升，事业阻碍减少、机遇增多。

职场表现上，当日午马摆脱此前的低迷状态，活力回归，工作干劲十足，执行力变强，能快速响应工作任务，进各项事宜。上班族容易得到、前辈的关注，之前提交的案、进的项目，当日容易有积反馈，工作认可度提升。对于从事销售、传媒、体育、餐饮、旅游等行业的属马人，当日活力优势凸显，业务拓展、客户对接、活动策划等工作开展顺利。

机遇契机面，当日属马人贵人缘变好，遇到工作难题时，身边同事、前辈愿意伸手帮忙，指点关键思路，化解工作困境。适主动进工作，对接新客户、洽谈作细节，容易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，此前卡住的作项目有机会突破瓶颈。部分属马人有机会展现个人才华，获得晋升、调岗的契机。

潜在阻碍上，本命年值太岁的影响仍在，当日事业仍有波动，计划易被突发状况乱，需做好灵活应对的准备。属马人子急躁，当日可能因急于求成、缺乏耐心，在工作细节上处理不当，引发失误，或与同事发生口角冲突，影响人际和谐。此外，不宜贸然开展风险项目、盲目跨界转型，易因准备不足遭遇挫折。

发展建议：当日宜保持热情活力，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进工作，展现个人能力。克制急躁心态，做事沉稳耐心，注重细节把控，避因冲动出错。遇事灵活变通，提前制定备选案，从容应对突发状况；远离风险决策，稳守主业、稳步发展。

未羊对应地支 “未”，五行属土，天温和善良、谦逊有礼，心思细腻、富有同理心，事业中待人真诚、踏实肯干，擅长团队协作、稳中求进。2026 丙午马年，午未六，属羊人全年运势佳，是马年职场天选之子，贵人运强劲，事业路升，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，六之力加持，运势持续盛，事业机遇满满。

职场表现上，当日未羊心态平和、工作认真负责，做事细致周到，能完成本职工作，且待人真诚友善，受同事喜与赏识。在团队中是协调者的角，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量，动项目顺利落地。对于从事服务、文化、教育、公关、设计、公益等行业的属羊人，当日人脉优势凸显，靠口碑与人脉动事业发展，成显著。

机遇契机面，当日属羊人贵人主动上门，赏识、同事帮扶，核心资源自动靠拢，不用费力竞争，就能轻松获得晋升、调岗机会。作运爆棚，伙创业、对接项目成功率，适拓展作渠道，开展跨界作，事业发展空间大幅拓宽。此外，当日有机会参与优质项目，展现个人才华，提升职场地位。

潜在阻碍上，当日属羊人运势过，易滋生骄傲自满心态，做事变得松懈马虎，忽视细节问题，致工作质量下降。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇小人占成果、背后诋毁，需提警惕，学会保护自身权益。此外，机遇过多时易陷入选择困境，因犹豫不决错失佳机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持谦逊低调，戒骄戒躁，踏实做事、认真履职，珍惜来之不易的机遇。果断决策、把握核心机遇，避因犹豫不决错失发展良机。强化自我保护意识，范职场小人，妥善维护自身权益，注事业长远发展。

申猴对应地支 “申”，五行属金，天聪慧机敏、活泼灵动，思维敏捷、反应迅速，擅长创新突破、灵活应变，事业中才华横溢、创意十足，靠智慧与创意立足。2026 丙午马年，火克金，属猴人全年事业运势上半年竞争激烈，后期转强，靠业技能取胜，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水火制衡，运势平稳，事业稳步发展。

职场表现上，当日申猴思维活跃、创意满满，工作中具创新意识，能提出新颖特的想法与案，破常规思维，为工作注入新活力。做事灵活，善于应对突发状况，能快速调整工作思路，适应工作变化。对于从事互联网、科技、创意、传媒、销售、自媒体等行业的属猴人，当日创意优势凸显，创新项目、创意产品易获得市场认可，工作成果亮眼。

机遇契机面，当日属猴人事业发展平稳，适耕业技能，磨核心竞争力，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。有机会拓展兴趣业，凭借创意与才华获得额外收入，拓宽收入渠道。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猴人易因聪明过头而浮躁，做事缺乏耐心，浅尝辄止，难以耕细节，致工作成果不够扎实，难以立足。同时，创意过多易分散精力，难以聚焦核心目标，致工作率降低，影响事业发展进度。此外，职场中易因口遮拦、言语随意，得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。

发展建议：当日宜收敛浮躁心态，沉下心来耕本职工作，磨业技能，将创意转化为实实在在的工作成果。聚焦核心目标，理分配精力，避因创意过多分散注意力，提升工作率。谨言慎行，避随意谈论他人是非，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业发展营造良好环境。

酉鸡对应地支 “酉”，五行属金，天精明干练、认真严谨，观察力敏锐、执行力强，做事追求、注重细节，事业中勤奋踏实、责任心强，靠努力与严谨取胜。2026 丙午马年，七星，属鸡人全年事业有表现空间，但伴随是非竞争，需积成长，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，运势平稳，事业稳中求进。

职场表现上，当日酉鸡工作态度严谨认真，做事丝不苟，注重细节与率，能完成各项工作任务，质量。观察力敏锐，能快速发现工作中的问题与漏洞，及时整改完善，避失误扩大。对于从事财务、审计、质检、文秘、行政、技术等行业的属鸡人，当日严谨优势凸显，细致类工作易出成果，受信任。

机遇契机面，当日属鸡人事业稳步发展，适夯实事业基础，积累工作经验与人脉资源，为后续晋升发展铺垫。职场中勤奋踏实的表现易被看在眼里，有机会获得额外工作机会，展现个人能力。此外，当日适学习新技能、提升业素养，增强职场竞争力。

潜在阻碍上，当日属鸡人易因过于追求而对自己和他人过于苛刻，引发同事不满，影响团队协作氛围。同时，七星影响下，职场竞争激烈，易遭小人计、背后诋毁，工作成果易被质疑，需提警惕。此外，做事过于固执，不愿接受他人建议，易致工作思路僵化，错失创新机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持严谨认真的工作作风，踏实做事、认真履职，积累实力与人脉。学会宽容待人，适当降低对他人的要求，灵活变通工作法，加强团队沟通协作。范职场小人，低调做事、远离是非，注提升自身能力，以实力应对竞争。

戌狗对应地支 “戌”，五行属土，天忠诚正直、责任心强，善良勇敢、踏实可靠，事业中任劳任怨、勤恳付出，对工作尽职尽责，对团队忠诚二，靠诚信与担当立足。2026 丙午马年，寅午戌三，属狗人全年贵人扎堆，事业能见度飙升，有掌权、晋升机会，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，三之力加持，运势上升，事业机遇多多。

职场表现上，当日戌狗工作认真负责、勤恳踏实，做事任劳任怨、不斤斤计较，能全身心投入工作，完成交办的各项任务。在团队中是可靠的存在，忠诚正直，受同事信赖与器重，能获得团队成员的支持与认可。对于从事教育、能源、餐饮、公益、行政、安保等行业的属狗人，当日行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得不错成果。

机遇契机面，当日属狗人贵人运强劲，事业上有跨部门作、对外拓展的机会，易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，作项目进顺利。有机会获得晋升、掌权的契机，接手核心工作，展现个人力与责任心。此外，当日适参与行业交流活动，拓展人脉资源，为事业发展创造多机遇。

潜在阻碍上，当日属狗人易因过于忠诚正直、不懂变通，在复杂的职场环境中吃亏，被小人利用，或因直言不讳得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。同时，做事过于保守谨慎，缺乏冒险精，不敢主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。此外，工作中易因过于劳累、不懂劳逸结，致精力不足，影响工作率。

发展建议：当日宜保持忠诚正直的本，踏实做事、诚信待人，用实力与担当赢得认可。适当学会灵活变通，把握职场沟通技巧，避直言不讳得罪他人。破保守心态，主动争取发展机遇，敢于尝试新事物、新挑战；理安排工作与休息，保持充沛精力。

亥猪对应地支 “亥”，五行属水，天温和善良、豁达乐观，待人真诚、与世争，事业中踏实肯干、心态平和，不贪图名利、不喜纷争，靠沉稳与善良立足。2026 丙午马年，运势平稳大波动，适耕主业、磨技能，稳中求进，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水木相生，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日亥猪心态平和、工作踏实认真，做事有条不紊、耐心细致，能按部就班完成本职工作，态度端正、责任心强。待人真诚友善，不与人争执，与同事相处融洽，团队协作氛围和谐，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量。对于从事农业、养殖、食品、物流、酒店、公益等行业的属猪人，当日行业运势平稳，工作开展顺利，易获得稳定成果。

机遇契机面，当日属猪人事业发展平稳，虽重大机遇，但能在平稳中积累成果，适耕本职工作，磨业技能，夯实事业基础。职场中人际关系和谐，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小，心情舒畅。此外，当日适维护客户关系、巩固作资源，为后续事业稳定发展提供保障。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猪人易因过于佛系、缺乏进取心，安于现状、不愿突破，致事业发展停滞不前，难以获得晋升机会。同时，温和善良的格易被人利用，遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，做事缺乏主见，易受他人影响，盲目跟风，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持踏实平和的心态，耕本职工作，积累经验与成果，稳步进事业发展。适当增强进取心，树立长远目标，主动学习提升，突破自我局限。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，维护自身职场权益；培养立思考能力，坚定自身立场，不盲目跟风。

恰逢壬辰月丙子日，天干地支水火既济，气场流转兼具活力与沉稳，为十二生肖的事业运势铺就了差异化的发展基调。十二生肖作为传统命理文化的核心载体，对应不同地支五行，在当日时空能量的影响下，事业机遇、挑战与发展向各有征兆。

子鼠对应地支 “子”，五行属水，天机敏灵动、思维活跃，擅长捕捉细节、把握机遇，在事业中多以智慧取胜、灵活应变见长。2026 丙午马年，子水与午火相冲，属鼠人全年事业运势波动较大，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子水当令，形成 “日禄归时” 的吉局，丙火又为子鼠正财，事业与财运迎来双重利好，是当月难得的事业光日。

职场表现上，当日子鼠精力充沛、精头十足，工作率较平日大幅提升，思维清晰且具洞察力，能快速梳理繁杂工作，抓住核心关键，轻松应对各类突发问题。上班族在团队中话语权提升，暗中有同事主动帮衬，此前积压的棘手任务可进收尾，绩表现亮眼，容易获得的关注与认可。对于从事创意、策划、文案、金融、物流等行业的属鼠人，当日灵感迸发，创意想法新颖到，提出的案易被采纳，甚至有机会主小型核心项目，展现个人业能力。

机遇契机面，当日属鼠人贵人运暗藏，职场中易遇低调务实的前辈或点拨，指点工作盲区与发展向，为后续职业晋升埋下伏笔。从事自由职业、自主创业的属鼠人，当日客源稳定，作洽谈顺利，容易对接优质客户，达成作意向，小众业也有小额收益入账。此外，当日适主动沟通对接，跨部门协作、对外业务拓展阻力较小，易取得突破进展。

潜在阻碍上，需警惕水过盛带来的急躁心态，部分属鼠人可能因急于求成，在细节处理上疏忽大意，致小失误频发，影响工作口碑。同时，职场中虽贵人助力多，但也需范小人暗中嫉妒，避随意泄露工作核心信息、谈论他人是非，止被人抓住把柄，引发不要的职场纠纷。

发展建议：当日宜保持机敏优势，主动出击、抓机遇，积汇报工作成果，争取多发展资源。工作中注重细节把控，戒骄戒躁，避因急躁出错。拓展人脉时保持真诚低调，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业长远发展铺垫基础。

丑牛对应地支 “丑”，五行属土，天勤恳踏实、沉稳坚韧，做事严谨负责、吃苦耐劳，事业中奉行厚积薄发，靠日积月累的努力站稳脚跟。2026 丙午马年，丑午相害，属牛人全年事业运势 “先抑后扬”，易遇小人阻碍与人际摩擦，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，子丑六，土厚气稳，丙火为丑牛正印，长辈、助力强劲，事业迎来稳中带升的利好局面。

职场表现上，当日丑牛延续贯的务实作风，工作态度认真严谨，做事有条不紊，能按部就班完成本职工作，质量与率兼具。对于从事行政、建筑、农业、教育、制造等行业的属牛人，当日工作进顺畅，熟悉的业务域易出成果，长期耕的工作内容迎来阶段回报。上班族在团队中是可靠的存在，交办的任务能放心交付，容易获得的信任与器重，有机会接触核心工作，展现扎实的业功底。

机遇契机面，当日属牛人贵人运盛，六之力加持下，易遇长辈、提携，可能迎来意想不到的晋升机会或重要项目委派，这是长期勤恳付出换来的回报。部分属牛人可能接到跨界作邀请或岗位调整通知，虽有挑战，但是突破职业瓶颈的佳契机。同时，当日适参与培训、学习进修，提升业技能，对长远职业发展助力大。

潜在阻碍上，丑牛天偏保守固执，当日可能因固守固有思维，不愿接受新事物、新法，错失创新发展的机遇。此外，虽整体人际和谐，但仍需范职场小人暗中使绊，避因固执己见与同事发生分歧，影响团队协作氛围。重要文件、同需反复核对，避因疏忽出现纰漏，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜放下保守心态，勇敢接受新任务、新挑战，灵活变通工作法，突破职业瓶颈。保持勤恳务实的作风，低调做事、踏实做人，妥善维护职场人际关系，远离是非纷争。主动向请教学习，把握贵人助力，为晋升发展创造有利条件。

寅虎对应地支 “寅”，五行属木，天勇猛果敢、自信张扬，行动力强，敢于突破常规、开拓创新，事业中自带气场，擅长把握风口机遇。2026 丙午马年，寅午三，属虎人全年事业运势顺势上扬，火力加持下才华与行动力爆发，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势余温未散，三之力仍在，事业运势延续盛态势，机遇与发展空间并存。

职场表现上，当日寅虎气场全开，行动力拉满，工作进有序，干劲十足，能快速攻克工作难点，此前积压的复杂任务可完成。上班族在团队中易成为核心人物，力凸显，能有协调团队成员，动项目落地，绩表现突出，金、提成有望足额甚至额到账。对于从事能源、餐饮、教育、销售、管理等行业的属虎人，当日木火相生，行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属虎人事业机遇不断，有外出对接、拓展业务的佳机会，适开拓新市场、发展新客户，跨界作成功率较。创业人士、企业经营者当日运势利好，适布局新项目、拓展新渠道，在火相关行业易实现营收大幅增长。此外，当日有机会接手核心新项目，展现个人能力，为后续薪资提升、职位晋升铺路。贵人运强劲，遇困难时易有贵人出手相助，指点迷津。

潜在阻碍上，当日需范天贼、地兵凶煞带来的阻碍，易出现工作突发状况，如作分歧、案临时变等，需提前做好应对准备。同时，属虎人天强势，当日可能因锋芒过露、过于自我，忽视同事建议，引发人际矛盾，甚至遭小人嫉妒，暗中制造阻碍。此外，核心信息易泄露，需做好保密工作，避因信息外泄造成损失。

发展建议：当日宜充分发挥果敢优势，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进新项目、新计划。做事保持低调谦逊，多倾听同事与前辈的建议，收敛锋芒，妥善处理职场人际关系。强化保密意识，谨慎处理核心工作信息，提前预判风险，从容应对突发状况。

卯兔对应地支 “卯”，五行属木，天温和儒雅、心思细腻，思维敏捷且具耐心，事业中擅长统筹规划、细致执行，追求平稳顺遂，不喜纷争。2026 丙午马年，卯木受午火克制，属兔人全年事业运势起伏不定，易遇瓶颈阻碍，而 5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得玉堂、少微吉护佑，运势顺遂，事业迎来平稳利好期。

职场表现上，当日卯兔思路清晰、心态平和，做事且细致入微，能有条不紊地进各项工作，规避细节失误，工作质量。上班族擅长梳理工作脉络，理规划工作进度，不仅能顺利完成当日本职工作，还能处理额外事务，获得认可。对于从事文化、艺术、设计、行政、文秘、教育等行业的属兔人，当日细腻优势凸显，创意设计、文案撰写、资料整理等工作易出精品，工作成果备受肯定。

机遇契机面，当日属兔人事业稳步发展，虽重大突破，但能在平稳中积累成果，适梳理规划后续工作，为长远发展铺垫基础。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。部分属兔人有机会参与重要会议、项目研讨，展现个人见解，提升职场存在感。

潜在阻碍上，当日属兔人需避过于保守谨慎，因害怕出错而不敢尝试新事物、主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，不宜做重大决策，如跳槽、转行、创业等，当日运势平稳，重大决策易因考虑不周出现失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持细致的工作风格，稳扎稳进工作，积累经验与成果。适当破保守心态，在适时机主动展现个人能力，争取发展机遇。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，妥善维护自身职场权益，避卷入人际纷争。

辰龙对应地支 “辰”，五行属土，天尊贵大气、自信睿智，格局宏大、眼光长远，事业中自带强者气场，追求卓越成就，擅长掌控全局、引向。2026 丙午马年，辰土生午火，属龙人全年事业运势平稳向上，有机会展现才能，但易锋芒过露，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，得三、武曲吉助力，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日辰龙气场沉稳，工作中展现出强的责任心与力，做事果断干练，决策，能有统筹各项工作，动项目有序进展。上班族在团队中是核心骨干，受信任，能立承担重要工作，虽重大突破，但稳步前行，工作成果稳步积累。对于从事管理、金融、地产、建筑、端制造等行业的属龙人，当日行业运势平稳，适耕本职、磨业能力，夯实事业基础。

机遇契机面，当日属龙人事业发展阻力较小，能得到同事、前辈的全力支持，进事宜顺风顺水，团队协作，易达成工作目标。适进升、业务优化等长期规划，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。部分属龙人有机会接触行业前沿资源，参与端项目作，拓宽事业格局。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕锋芒过露带来的负面影响，过于张扬强势易引发同事嫉妒，遭小人暗中诋毁，影响职场口碑。同时，属龙人眼光远，易忽视细节问题，在工作执行中可能因细节疏忽致小失误，影响工作成。此外，事业平稳期易产生懈怠心态，缺乏进取动力，致发展停滞不前。

发展建议：当日宜保持沉稳务实的作风，收敛锋芒、低调做事，多倾听他人建议，避过于强势引发人际矛盾。注重细节把控，兼顾全局与细节，提升工作质量。克服懈怠心态，树立长远目标，稳步进事业发展，积累实力等待机遇爆发。

巳蛇对应地支 “巳”，五行属火，天冷静睿智、心思缜密，洞察力强，擅长谋略策划、布局，事业中低调务实、暗藏锋芒，靠智慧与策略取胜。2026 丙午马年，巳午半，属蛇人全年事业运势强劲，贵人暗中相助，机遇源源不断，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火气相辅，运势利好，事业发展顺遂，机遇与挑战并存。

职场表现上，当日巳蛇头脑冷静、思维缜密，工作中具洞察力，能捕捉工作核心问题，提前预判风险，制定完善应对案。做事低调，不事张扬，默默进工作，总能在关键时刻展现惊人实力，工作成果令人刮目相看。对于从事金融、法律、科研、技术、策划、医疗等行业的属蛇人，当日业优势凸显，分析、技术攻关、案策划等工作易取得突破进展。

机遇契机面，当日属蛇人贵人运盛，有 “太阳” 星照拂，每当陷入困境时，总会有贵人及时出现提供助力，指点关键思路，化解工作难题。事业上适布局长线规划，开展长期作项目，与靠谱伙伴携手发展，成功率较。此外，当日适提升业技能，学习前沿知识，为职业晋升、事业拓展积蓄力量。

潜在阻碍上，当日需警惕小人环伺，身边不乏嫉妒者，流言蜚语与暗中压计并存，越是调张扬，越容易暴露自身破绽，给他人可乘之机。同时，属蛇人天多疑，当日可能因过度猜忌同事、作伙伴，影响团队信任，阻碍工作进。此外，工作中易因追求而过度纠结细节，致工作率降低。

发展建议：当日宜保持低调务实，收敛锋芒、谦逊做人，不与人争长短，远离是非纷争，注本职工作。放下多疑心态，学会信任他人，加强团队沟通协作，凝聚力进工作。平衡主义与工作率，聚焦核心目标，进事业发展。

午马对应地支 “午”，五行属火，天热情奔放、活力四射，行动力强，热自由、敢于拼搏，事业中充满激情与干劲，擅长开拓进取、突破创新。2026 丙午马年，属马人值太岁本命年，自刑影响下事业波动较大，阻碍重重，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，火势稍缓，运势回升，事业阻碍减少、机遇增多。

职场表现上，当日午马摆脱此前的低迷状态，活力回归，工作干劲十足，执行力变强，能快速响应工作任务，进各项事宜。上班族容易得到、前辈的关注，之前提交的案、进的项目，当日容易有积反馈，工作认可度提升。对于从事销售、传媒、体育、餐饮、旅游等行业的属马人，当日活力优势凸显，业务拓展、客户对接、活动策划等工作开展顺利。

机遇契机面，当日属马人贵人缘变好，遇到工作难题时，身边同事、前辈愿意伸手帮忙，指点关键思路，化解工作困境。适主动进工作，对接新客户、洽谈作细节，容易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，此前卡住的作项目有机会突破瓶颈。部分属马人有机会展现个人才华，获得晋升、调岗的契机。

潜在阻碍上，本命年值太岁的影响仍在，当日事业仍有波动，计划易被突发状况乱，需做好灵活应对的准备。属马人子急躁，当日可能因急于求成、缺乏耐心，在工作细节上处理不当，引发失误，或与同事发生口角冲突，影响人际和谐。此外，不宜贸然开展风险项目、盲目跨界转型，易因准备不足遭遇挫折。

发展建议：当日宜保持热情活力，主动出击、抓机遇，大胆进工作，展现个人能力。克制急躁心态，做事沉稳耐心，注重细节把控，避因冲动出错。遇事灵活变通，提前制定备选案，从容应对突发状况；远离风险决策，稳守主业、稳步发展。

未羊对应地支 “未”，五行属土，天温和善良、谦逊有礼，心思细腻、富有同理心，事业中待人真诚、踏实肯干，擅长团队协作、稳中求进。2026 丙午马年，午未六，属羊人全年运势佳，是马年职场天选之子，贵人运强劲，事业路升，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，六之力加持，运势持续盛，事业机遇满满。

职场表现上，当日未羊心态平和、工作认真负责，做事细致周到，能完成本职工作，且待人真诚友善，受同事喜与赏识。在团队中是协调者的角，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量，动项目顺利落地。对于从事服务、文化、教育、公关、设计、公益等行业的属羊人，当日人脉优势凸显，靠口碑与人脉动事业发展，成显著。

机遇契机面，当日属羊人贵人主动上门，赏识、同事帮扶，核心资源自动靠拢，不用费力竞争，就能轻松获得晋升、调岗机会。作运爆棚，伙创业、对接项目成功率，适拓展作渠道，开展跨界作，事业发展空间大幅拓宽。此外，当日有机会参与优质项目，展现个人才华，提升职场地位。

潜在阻碍上，当日属羊人运势过，易滋生骄傲自满心态，做事变得松懈马虎，忽视细节问题，致工作质量下降。同时，温和格易被人利用，可能遭遇小人占成果、背后诋毁，需提警惕，学会保护自身权益。此外，机遇过多时易陷入选择困境，因犹豫不决错失佳机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持谦逊低调，戒骄戒躁，踏实做事、认真履职，珍惜来之不易的机遇。果断决策、把握核心机遇，避因犹豫不决错失发展良机。强化自我保护意识，范职场小人，妥善维护自身权益，注事业长远发展。

申猴对应地支 “申”，五行属金，天聪慧机敏、活泼灵动，思维敏捷、反应迅速，擅长创新突破、灵活应变，事业中才华横溢、创意十足，靠智慧与创意立足。2026 丙午马年，火克金，属猴人全年事业运势上半年竞争激烈，后期转强，靠业技能取胜，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水火制衡，运势平稳，事业稳步发展。

职场表现上，当日申猴思维活跃、创意满满，工作中具创新意识，能提出新颖特的想法与案，破常规思维，为工作注入新活力。做事灵活，善于应对突发状况，能快速调整工作思路，适应工作变化。对于从事互联网、科技、创意、传媒、销售、自媒体等行业的属猴人，当日创意优势凸显，创新项目、创意产品易获得市场认可，工作成果亮眼。

机遇契机面，当日属猴人事业发展平稳，适耕业技能，磨核心竞争力，为后续事业突破积蓄力量。有机会拓展兴趣业，凭借创意与才华获得额外收入，拓宽收入渠道。职场中人际关系和谐，与同事相处融洽，团队协作顺畅，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猴人易因聪明过头而浮躁，做事缺乏耐心，浅尝辄止，难以耕细节，致工作成果不够扎实，难以立足。同时，创意过多易分散精力，难以聚焦核心目标，致工作率降低，影响事业发展进度。此外，职场中易因口遮拦、言语随意，得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。

发展建议：当日宜收敛浮躁心态，沉下心来耕本职工作，磨业技能，将创意转化为实实在在的工作成果。聚焦核心目标，理分配精力，避因创意过多分散注意力，提升工作率。谨言慎行，避随意谈论他人是非，妥善维护职场人际关系，为事业发展营造良好环境。

酉鸡对应地支 “酉”，五行属金，天精明干练、认真严谨，观察力敏锐、执行力强，做事追求、注重细节，事业中勤奋踏实、责任心强，靠努力与严谨取胜。2026 丙午马年，七星，属鸡人全年事业有表现空间，但伴随是非竞争，需积成长，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，运势平稳，事业稳中求进。

职场表现上，当日酉鸡工作态度严谨认真，做事丝不苟，注重细节与率，能完成各项工作任务，质量。观察力敏锐，能快速发现工作中的问题与漏洞，及时整改完善，避失误扩大。对于从事财务、审计、质检、文秘、行政、技术等行业的属鸡人，当日严谨优势凸显，细致类工作易出成果，受信任。

机遇契机面，当日属鸡人事业稳步发展，适夯实事业基础，积累工作经验与人脉资源，为后续晋升发展铺垫。职场中勤奋踏实的表现易被看在眼里，有机会获得额外工作机会，展现个人能力。此外，当日适学习新技能、提升业素养，增强职场竞争力。

潜在阻碍上，当日属鸡人易因过于追求而对自己和他人过于苛刻，引发同事不满，影响团队协作氛围。同时，七星影响下，职场竞争激烈，易遭小人计、背后诋毁，工作成果易被质疑，需提警惕。此外，做事过于固执，不愿接受他人建议，易致工作思路僵化，错失创新机遇。

发展建议：当日宜保持严谨认真的工作作风，踏实做事、认真履职，积累实力与人脉。学会宽容待人，适当降低对他人的要求，灵活变通工作法，加强团队沟通协作。范职场小人，低调做事、远离是非，注提升自身能力，以实力应对竞争。

戌狗对应地支 “戌”，五行属土，天忠诚正直、责任心强，善良勇敢、踏实可靠，事业中任劳任怨、勤恳付出，对工作尽职尽责，对团队忠诚二，靠诚信与担当立足。2026 丙午马年，寅午戌三，属狗人全年贵人扎堆，事业能见度飙升，有掌权、晋升机会，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，三之力加持，运势上升，事业机遇多多。

职场表现上，当日戌狗工作认真负责、勤恳踏实，做事任劳任怨、不斤斤计较，能全身心投入工作，完成交办的各项任务。在团队中是可靠的存在，忠诚正直，受同事信赖与器重，能获得团队成员的支持与认可。对于从事教育、能源、餐饮、公益、行政、安保等行业的属狗人，当日行业运势加持，工作开展顺风顺水，易取得不错成果。

机遇契机面，当日属狗人贵人运强劲，事业上有跨部门作、对外拓展的机会，易遇到靠谱的作伙伴，作项目进顺利。有机会获得晋升、掌权的契机，接手核心工作，展现个人力与责任心。此外，当日适参与行业交流活动，拓展人脉资源，为事业发展创造多机遇。

潜在阻碍上，当日属狗人易因过于忠诚正直、不懂变通，在复杂的职场环境中吃亏，被小人利用，或因直言不讳得罪他人，引发人际矛盾。同时，做事过于保守谨慎，缺乏冒险精，不敢主动争取机遇，错失发展良机。此外，工作中易因过于劳累、不懂劳逸结，致精力不足，影响工作率。

发展建议：当日宜保持忠诚正直的本，踏实做事、诚信待人，用实力与担当赢得认可。适当学会灵活变通，把握职场沟通技巧，避直言不讳得罪他人。破保守心态，主动争取发展机遇，敢于尝试新事物、新挑战；理安排工作与休息，保持充沛精力。The affair dragged on, irresistible passion matched with immovable affection. Swift was Dean of St. Patrick’s, known to be the friend, and by some gossips thought to be the husband, of Stella, who, though she[Pg 163] did not live at the deanery, was the centre of such life as it had. He refused to give the world the least excuse for regarding Vanessa as his mistress. He smothered her with discretion, hating it yet unable to take a final stand at one extremity or another. When he had snubbed her long enough to put an end to any ordinary suit, he would turn kind, would insist upon his esteem and admiration, and so would once more rouse her. He could or would not learn that her love and his kindness were oil and water.

During the half-dozen dark years after he left the Court for Ireland he perversely relished the secret drama, whatever form it took, and let himself be drawn into various cautious meetings with Vanessa. When, towards the end of that eclipse, he began to be more thoroughly himself, he became less cautious. His whole nature, as if by some rejuvenation, expanded. He took up the cause of Ireland against the Whigs. He wrote verses, tender, intimate, teasing, to Stella. As if he thought the conflict between him and Vanessa was settled, he tried to get back to the old footing.

Instantly her desire flared up. “I here tell you,” she wrote to him, “that I have determined to try all manner of human arts to reclaim you.” He did what he could to laugh off her seriousness, even to praising the art with which she wrote. Nothing would now quiet her. His least kindness intoxicated her. When he told her to use assumed names in her letters, which he was[Pg 164] afraid might be opened, and dashes for “everything that may be said to Cad—— at beginning or conclusion,” she was suddenly in raptures over sharing secrets with him. “—— —— —— —— Cad——, you are good beyond expression, and I will never quarrel again if I can help it.” Swift did not take warning.

“What would you give,” he asked her in August 1720, “to have the history of Cad—— and —— exactly written, through all its steps, from the beginning to this time? I believe it would do well in verse, and be as long as the other. I hope it will be done. It ought to be an exact chronicle of twelve years, from the time of spilling the coffee to drinking of coffee, from Dunstable to Dublin, with every single passage since. There would be the chapter of the blister; the chapter of Madam going to Kensington; the chapter of the Colonel’s going to France; the chapter of the wedding, with the adventure of the lost key; of the strain; of the joyful return; two hundred chapters of madness; the chapter of long walks; the Berkshire surprise; fifty chapters of little times; the chapter of Chelsea; the chapter of swallow and cluster; a hundred whole books of myself and so low; the chapter of hide and whisper; the chapter of Who made it so? My sister’s money.”

Vanessa, answering that “it would be too much once to hope for such a history,” asked him “did those circumstances crowd on you, or did you recollect them to make me happy?” But, though she might suspect[Pg 165] that he had meant to please her, she could not help exulting that he had remembered. She was not sure friendship had such a memory. She knew love had.

Swift had suggested that he might, for the first time, visit her at Celbridge. “Is it possible you will come and see me? I beg for God sake you will.” He did visit her. Back in Dublin he advised her to take more exercise, be cheerful, “read pleasant things that will make you laugh, and not sit moping with your elbows on your knees on a little stool by the fire.”

Vanessa was out of hand. “I ... here declare that ’tis not in the power of art, time, or accident to lessen the unexpressible passion which I have for — — —. Put my passion under the utmost restraint, send me as distant from you as the earth will allow, yet you cannot banish those charming ideas which will ever stick by me whilst I have the use of memory. Nor is the love I bear you only seated in my soul, for there is not a single atom of my frame that is not blended with it.... For heaven’s sake tell me what has caused this prodigious change in you which I have found of late. If you have the least remains of pity for me left, tell me tenderly. No, don’t tell it so that it may cause my present death; and don’t suffer me to lead a life like a languishing death, which is the only life I can lead if you have lost any of your tenderness for me.”

Swift did not reply. The death of Vanessa’s sister revived the correspondence, which went on with the[Pg 166] same disparity. “The worst thing in you and me,” he wrote, “is that we are too hard to please, and whether we have not made ourselves is the question.... We differ prodigiously in one point: I fly from the spleen to the world’s end, you run out of your way to meet it.” He urged her—Swift of all men—to accept what came and be pleased with it. She did her best to be the kind of philosopher he specified, but “I find the more I think the more unhappy I am.”

In his last surviving letter to her he reminded her of the pleasant episodes “of Windsor, Cleveland Row, Ryder Street, St. James’s, Kensington, the Sluttery, the Colonel in France.... Cad thinks often of these, especially on horseback, as I am assured. What a foolish thing is time, and how foolish is man who would be as angry if time stopped as if it passed.” This was in August 1722. Vanessa died in June 1723.

The end of the story is all gossip. It says that Vanessa, unable to endure her jealousy, wrote to Swift, or to Stella, asking if it were true that Stella was Swift’s wife. It says in one account that Stella answered that she was, in another that she sent the letter to Swift to answer. It says that Swift took the letter from Vanessa to Stella, or to him, and with it rode savagely to Celbridge, entered the room where Vanessa was, threw down the letter, gave Vanessa a look which for the last time struck her dumb and, without one of his “killing, killing words,” left the house. It says that[Pg 167] Vanessa thereupon changed her will, leaving her fortune to strangers, not to Swift, and died.

All gossip, any of it true, or none. Vanessa did leave her fortune to strangers and did not mention Swift among the friends to whom she gave small legacies to buy mourning rings. Something had parted Cadenus and Vanessa before she died. The parting was natural, but tragically late. She had loved a man whose thoughts, she said, “no human creature is capable of guessing at, because never any one living thought like you.” She had spent her life trying to win him, and he had let her spend it. Dying, she planned what revenge was left to her, the publication of his poem about Cadenus and Vanessa and of the letters between them.

When the poem, though not the letters, appeared in 1726 to the comfort of his enemies, Swift kept silence. It had been, he told a friend, a “cavalier business,” “a private humoursome thing which by an accident inevitable and the baseness of particular malice” had been made public. “I never saw it since I writ it.” He refused to “use shifts or arts” to justify himself, “let people think of me as they please.... I have borne a great deal more.” He had gone through what was comedy for him and tragedy for Vanessa. Others must make up their own minds, if they had them, about who was to blame, if there must be blame, when a universal Héloïse encountered a special Abélard.

[Pg 168]

3

With whatever remorse, with whatever relief, with whatever concern for scandal, Swift the day after Vanessa’s death left Dublin for the south of Ireland. Stella and Dingley were to spend the summer in the country at a friend’s house. About Vanessa, so far as any record shows, Swift was silent, except to refer in a letter to her “incontinence in keeping secrets.” And Stella was silent, except to remark, when she heard her rival praised, that the Dean could write finely about a broomstick. If there was between Swift and Stella such silence about Vanessa as they kept towards the world it was a silence beyond conjecture. The facts are drama enough. Stella went noiselessly in one direction. Swift went restlessly in another.

By the end of June he had made his way past Cork and had written a Latin poem on the rocks at Carbery where the ocean tore at the cliffs. By the beginning of August he had come up the west to Galway, still a hundred miles from home and “half weary of the four hundred I have rid.” Late in September he was back in Dublin. Stella returned to town. Swift greeted her with his old raillery. She had been spoiled, he said, by the “generous wines and costly cheer” of Wood Park, and tried to ape them on her income.

“Thus for a week the farce went on;

When, all her country savings gone,[Pg 169]

She fell into her former scene,

Small beer, a herring, and the Dean.”

Esther Johnson (Stella)

Painted probably after Vanessa’s death

It happened that during his absence from Dublin both Pope and Bolingbroke, and a little later Arbuthnot, took up the correspondence which they, and Swift more than they, had recently neglected. Fresh memories of England stirred in him. He exchanged affectionate letters with the Duchess of Ormond and Lady Masham. He wrote to Oxford demanding the bribe of a letter and a picture, “for who else knows how to deliver you down to posterity?” Bolingbroke had written: “I have vowed to read no history of our own country till that body of it which you promise to finish appears.” Swift thought often of making himself the real historiographer of those buried, unforgotten years, in spite of the dullard who had the title. But he was not yet ready for history. He was still alive to the events passing under his bitter eyes.

Swift hated Ireland because it was his place of banishment: “the whole kingdom a bare face of nature, without houses or plantations; filthy cabins, miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape; one insolent, ignorant, oppressive squire to be found in twenty miles riding; a parish church to be found only in a summer day’s journey, in comparison with which an English farmer’s barn is a cathedral; a bog of fifteen miles round; every meadow[Pg 170] a slough, and every hill a mixture of rock, heath, and marsh; and every male and female, from the farmer inclusive to the day-labourer, infallibly a thief and consequently a beggar, which in this island are terms convertible.” “The old seats of the nobility and gentry all in ruins, and no new ones in their stead.” “The wretched merchants, instead of being dealers, are dwindled to pedlars and cheats.” As to trade, “nothing worth mentioning except the linen of the north, a trade casual, corrupted, and at mercy, and some butter from Cork.” The ports and harbours were of no more use “than a beautiful prospect to a man shut up in a dungeon.” Travellers never came to Ireland, since they might expect to find there nothing but misery and desolation. Whoever could leave the kingdom left at the first chance and stayed away till the last excuse. Dublin was a “beggarly city,” one-seventh of its houses falling in ruins, its populace hungry, idle, dissolute, dirty, and noisy. Though it was the capital of an ancient kingdom, the government was wholly in the hands of Englishmen who, blind to every interest but their own, lived there as little as they could manage.

No theoretical doctrine of liberty moved Swift to take up the Irish cause. “I do profess without affectation,” he explained to Pope, “that your kind opinion of me as a patriot, since you call it so, is what I do not deserve; because what I do is owing to perfect rage and resentment, and the mortifying sight of slavery, folly,[Pg 171] and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live.”

On the Catholic majority, those “savage old Irish,” he spent little sympathy. They might be above the vermin of the island but they were below the voters. He had no patience with the Dissenters. They were outside the Church and to that extent outside his Ireland. Ireland for him was the English settled there, the noblemen, the landlords, the clergy, the lawyers, the merchants. Their ancestors had come to rule the conquered province. They themselves ought now to rule it. Instead, they were called Irish, which they were not, and in turn were ruled by the newest English, a changing garrison of place-men. Men born in Ireland could not hope for posts at home. They had either to rot on their estates or to go abroad while their tenants were racked to support them in a dingy splendour. The Irish Parliament had no power. The laws, all made in England, condemned Ireland to poverty. Cattle could not be shipped to England, woollen goods could not be shipped anywhere. Without a free hand in agriculture, manufacture, or trade, Ireland from being so long bound was numb or sodden.

Mortified by finding himself in exile among slaves, Swift first despised them and then hated their tyrants. The tyrants were the Whigs who had driven him out of power. He could not become a slave. He could not[Pg 172] endure a tyrant. Everything in his nature urged him to rouse the slaves and resist the tyrants. But he had the advantage, when he turned his fury loose, of a long experience in hating the party to which his enemies belonged.

Where his whole cause was so good Swift did not need to be fastidious about his particular occasion for attack. William Wood, an English ironmonger, in 1722 obtained a patent from the King to coin halfpence and farthings for Ireland for fourteen years. The Irish were not agreed that they needed new copper coins, certainly not to the amount of a hundred thousand pounds. The Irish were not consulted, nor even the Lord Lieutenant. Higher interests were involved. The patent had really been granted to the Duchess of Kendal, the King’s mistress, who sold it to Wood for ten thousand pounds. Walpole, Lord Treasurer, did not object. The Duchess had been loyal. The King was grateful. Through the method of the patent she could be rewarded, not by the King directly but indirectly by his Irish subjects, who already, if they had known it, contributed three thousand annually in pensions to the loyal lady. Since there was some risk, Wood deserved a profit for his trouble. The necessary copper would cost him sixty thousand pounds. When he had satisfied the Duchess he would still have thirty thousand, of which perhaps one-fifth would pay for the coinage and about one-seventh go to fees required[Pg 173] by the patent. As jobs went in the government of Ireland under Walpole, the profit was not unheard of.

But the failure to consult the Irish had angered them. Their Parliament protested to the Treasury. Lord Carteret, a friend of Swift and now Secretary of State, was at odds with Walpole. Walpole, persisting, got Carteret appointed Lord Lieutenant early in 1724, to get rid of him in London. By the time he reached Dublin the whole country was in a passion.

The passion was led and guided by Swift. Walpole’s scheme, shabby, cynical, insulting, brought the satirist with a roar out of his long silence. He was as crafty as he was furious. Pretending to be a small tradesman named Drapier, he addressed, between April and November 1724, a series of letters to the shopkeepers, tradesmen, farmers, and common people, to his printer, to the nobility and gentry, to the whole people of Ireland. He was as furious as he was crafty. Wood was a “single, diminutive, insignificant mechanic.” He and his agents, trying to force upon the Irish the coins which the patent did not oblige them to accept, were “enemies to God and this kingdom.” “I will shoot Mr. Wood and his deputies through the head, like highwaymen or housebreakers, if they dare to force one farthing of their coin upon me in the payment of an hundred pounds. It is no loss of honour to submit to the lion, but who, with the figure of a man, can think with patience of being devoured alive by a[Pg 174] rat.” “I entreat you, my dear countrymen, not to be under the least concern upon these and the like rumours, which are no more than the last howls of a dog dissected alive, as I hope he hath sufficiently been.”

Swift did not dare to accuse the King, and he only hinted at the honorarium to the Duchess. It was the ministers who had planned this contemptuous oppression. It was Wood who was to his own advantage carrying it out at the expense of Ireland. If Wood’s copper became current every Irishman who received a coin, even in the smallest transaction, would get less than he gave, and every Irishman who paid out a coin would give less than he got. While Wood prospered “we should live together as merry and sociable as beggars, only with this one abatement, that we should have neither meat to feed nor manufactures to clothe us, unless we could be content to prance about in coats of mail or eat brass as ostriches do iron.”

Swift must have known that his arguments were false, must have known that the intrinsic value of such small coins did not matter and that they would be as good as any if they were used. He who gave and he who got could not be equally losers. But Swift did not boggle over economic niceties. Here was a principle. To accept the coins would be to surrender to tyrants and become slaves. As soon as he had stirred the public to a fear of losing money and had assured them[Pg 175] they could lawfully refuse the new halfpence and farthings, he moved towards a general position.

“Were not the people of Ireland born as free as those of England? How have they forfeited their freedom? Is not their Parliament as fair a representative of the people as that of England?... Are they not subjects of the same king? Does not the same sun shine upon them? And have they not the same God for their protector? Am I a freeman in England, and do I become a slave in six hours by crossing the channel?” “I have looked over all the English and Irish statutes without finding any law that makes Ireland depend upon England any more than England does upon Ireland. We have indeed obliged ourselves to have the same king with them, and consequently they are obliged to have the same king with us. For the law was made by our own ancestors, and our ancestors then were not such fools (whatever they were in the preceding reign) to bring themselves under I know not what dependence which is now talked of without any ground of law, reason, or common sense.” “All government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.” “The remedy is wholly in your own hands.... By the laws of God, of Nature, of nations, and of your own country you are and ought to be as free a people as your brethren in England.”

No voice like this had ever been raised by an Englishman in Ireland. All the Irish heard it. Never again[Pg 176] were its echoes to be long silent in that country. “Money,” Swift said, “the great divider of the world, hath by a strange revolution been the great uniter of a most divided people.”

On the day Carteret landed in October the fourth and most thorough-going of the Drapier letters was issued. Hawkers crying it through the streets met the Lord Lieutenant when he arrived in Dublin. Much as Carteret admired “that genius which has outshone most of this age and when you will display it again can convince us that its lustre and strength are still the same,” he could not, in his station, overlook the Drapier. He offered a reward of three hundred pounds for information leading to the discovery of the author within six months. All Dublin, including the Lord Lieutenant, knew that Swift had written the dangerous letters. But there was no legal proof, even if there was anywhere an informer. During the six months Swift dined at the Castle and entertained Lady Carteret at a party in his garden. When Carteret heard that Swift had “some thoughts of declaring himself” he advised against it. Their friendship, however, was not tested to the utmost. Walpole, seeing that the case was hopeless in such a tumult, gave it up. The patent was withdrawn in 1725 as an instance of royal favour and condescension. Wood was compensated with a pension of three thousand pounds a year for twelve years. Carteret later summed up his administration: “The[Pg 177] people ask me how I governed Ireland. I say that I pleased Dr. Swift.”

Swift, writing to Oxford’s son, apologized for his mention of the Irish brawl. “This is just of as much consequence to your Lordship as the news of a skirmish between two petty states in Greece was to Alexander while he was conquering Persia, but even a knot of beggars are of importance among themselves.” Yet Swift was too much a soldier not to enjoy a battle after a stupid peace. Though there were others in the field, he unmistakably commanded. The Grand Jury and the Liberty of St. Patrick’s, that part of Dublin over which he as Dean had civil jurisdiction, formally resolved against the hated coins, as did the butchers, the brewers, the newsboys or “flying stationers,” and the Black Guard. There were broadsheets on every corner, songs in every tavern, some of them written by Swift, all of them in support of the Drapier. While the furor lasted no jury would find anything seditious in any pamphlet or lampoon if Wood were mentioned. After the victory medals were struck in the Drapier’s honour, shops and taverns were named for him, women carried handkerchiefs with his picture woven on them. Something legendary began to enlarge Swift’s fame.

Irishmen who could barely spell out his arguments and knew only by hearsay that he was a man of learning who had been great in London were roused to veneration. They had thought of him as one of their[Pg 178] rulers sent from England, yet he had joined their cause against the English. He was not a tyrant but a patriot. Standing superbly against the dread, incalculable ministers, he had defended men and women to whom halfpence and farthings were important. They stood uncovered when he passed in the streets.

They could not know that he had acted, at least at first, out of hate for their slavery and folly and baseness, out of a fierce unwillingness to be slavish and foolish and base along with them. He who had had a hand in ruling an empire would not submit to being counted among the docile subjects of the province to which he had been banished. Private resentment had stirred him to public rebellion. He could not help it if what he had done for hate was the same as if he had done it for love. Such an outcome was only another proof that the world was wrong. Like Gulliver in Lilliput, wading home with the Blefuscudian fleet at the end of a packthread, Swift decently exulted. But he would not let himself forget that the adventure had taken place among the pigmies. Whatever he accomplished was a small affair. Great affairs were always maddeningly beyond him, or, he remembered his days with Oxford, behind him.

[Pg 179]

VI

TRAVELLER

1

Swift never set a foot outside Ireland or England except when he hurried across Wales on his restless journeys between London, the bright centre of his world, and Dublin, the dreary margin. Though he constantly diverted himself with books of travel, he found in them nothing which convinced him that he would anywhere meet more wisdom or less folly than he everywhere observed. The Scotch were a “poor, fierce northern people,” the Dutch grasping and shifty, the French frivolous and Catholic. If he had some liking for the Swedes it was because he was fascinated by Charles XII, that sudden, terrific king who had burst upon Europe from his cold peninsula and stirred philosophers to admiration by such a career as Swift would have chosen for himself. But dividing mankind into nations was little more than drawing lines on a map. The whole earth was inhabited by the human race.

Once Swift had hopes of going to Austria, once to[Pg 180] Sweden, once to France. Each time prevented, he hardly grumbled. If he thought of other countries it was for their better climate, which might, he said, have kept his wit and humour lively, as Ireland’s had not. “I imagine,” he wrote in 1724, “France would be proper for me now, and Italy ten years hence.” But he could not rouse himself from thinking about the world to travel far to look at it. There was his giddiness, which might at any time make him reel and fall. There was his deafness, which forced him to live “among those whom I can govern and make them comply with my infirmities.” There was the prospect of blindness. “My eyes will not suffer me to read small prints, nor anything by candlelight, and if I grow blind, as well as deaf, I must needs become very grave and wise and insignificant.” He was caged in Ireland, with nothing to do but pace his cage.

In Ireland, however, Swift was not confined to the cramped cottage at Laracor or to the hollow deanery in Dublin. During the twelve unbroken years of his banishment after 1714 he often visited other houses. His hosts could never have enough of him. Near Laracor were the houses of Peter Ludlow, George Rochfort, and Knightley Chetwoode. Near Dublin were the houses of the Grattans and Patrick Delaney and Charles Ford, with whom Stella spent a summer. Forty miles from Dublin was Thomas Sheridan’s ramshackle house which Swift could sometimes have to[Pg 181] himself. He is said to have visited an ancestor of the Earls of Llandaff in Tipperary. He visited the Ashes—St. George Ashe had been Swift’s college tutor—at Clogher in Tyrone, Robert Cope in Armagh, the Bishop of Dromore in Down. And during the summers of 1722 and 1723, when banishment had become almost unendurable, Swift made long, lonely journeys to the north and to the south. “I have shifted scenes,” he told Vanessa in July 1722, “oftener than I ever did in my life, and I believe I have lain in thirty beds since I left the town.”

Six hundred miles in the north, five hundred in the south the year following, all solitary and speculative. But these were not merely random travels in search of change and health. Though Swift was still incorrigibly Swift, he was also Gulliver, now with a purpose studying the despicable ways of men.

Gulliver’s travels were Swift’s travels, disguised with Swift’s wit, loaded with Swift’s hate. He gave years to them, as to nothing else he ever wrote about, five or six years thinking of them as Martin Scriblerus’s travels, nearly as long thinking of them as Gulliver’s or his own. “I am now writing a History of my Travels,” Swift told Ford in April 1721, “which will be a large volume, and gives account of countries hitherto unknown; but they go on slowly for want of health and humour.” By December of that year Bolingbroke knew about them. “I long to see your[Pg 182] Travels; for, take it as you will, I do not retract what I said, and will undertake to find in two pages of your bagatelles more good sense, useful knowledge, and true religion than you can show me in the works of nineteen in twenty of the profound divines and philosophers of the age.” In June 1722 Vanessa had read something about the giants. In January 1724 Swift was near the end. “I have left the Country of Horses,” he wrote to Ford, “and am in the Flying Island, where I shall not stay long, and my two last journeys will soon be over.” In July 1725 Bolingbroke referred to the pigmies and giants of which he had heard. In August, Swift wrote to Ford: “I have finished my Travels, and am now transcribing them. They are admirable things, and will wonderfully mend the world.”

In September, after a summer at Sheridan’s house in the country, Swift wrote to Pope: “I have employed my time, besides ditching, in finishing, correcting, amending, and transcribing my Travels, in four parts complete, newly augmented, and intended for the press when the world shall deserve them, or rather when a printer shall be found brave enough to venture his ears.” Thereafter all Swift’s friends waited to see how he would, as he said, “vex the world rather than divert it.” They could be sure he had written more than a story of imaginary voyages in a book. This would be Swift’s revenge.

In the days of the Scriblerus Club it had been[Pg 183] planned that Martin on his first voyage should be carried “by a prosperous storm to a discovery of the ancient Pygmean empire”; on his second should be “happily shipwrecked on the land of the giants, the most humane people in the world”; on his third should reach a “kingdom of philosophers who govern by the mathematics”; and on his fourth should, among beings not yet named, “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” These plans had broken up with the Club. Returning to this theme, Swift saw that the bungling Martin would no longer serve. If he were to be the traveller, much of the folly of the narrative would have to appear in his misadventures. Better to let the traveller be a plain, reasonable, unimaginative man who would report what he had seen in the language of common sense.

Swift’s nature included such a Gulliver. It included, too, an observer as alien to what went on around him as Gulliver could be on his most distant, most surprising island. “My disaffection to the world ... has never varied from the twenty-first ... year of my life.” Disaffection, singularity, had driven Swift, no less than most men, to think of himself as playing various rôles. At Kilkenny and Trinity he had been a tragic hero, neglected and abused by fortune. At Moor Park he had been a scholar in a garden, despising the rabble of wits and pedants. At Laracor he had been a soldier in a garrison, when there were wars[Pg 184] elsewhere. In London he had been the conscience and voice of ministers, insisting upon order and virtue in the state. In Dublin, exiled, he had turned from governing to resisting and had made himself the hammer of tyrants. Now he was a creature of a different race, thrown among men, full of antipathy for them, but full also of a scornful curiosity.

It was the best rôle he ever found. Without once taking ship to the corners of the earth as Gulliver did, Swift had moved about at home too large for the pigmies, too small for the giants, too sensible for the philosophers, too human for the animals. He had never been able quite to adjust himself to the scale of life as other men lived it. Other men, even when they had the pride of distinction, could submit. Swift could not. As if he were really an alien to the race, he had been obliged, whether he chose or not, to feel and act alien. Only once in more than fifty years had he found an occupation which truly involved him, and that only while a short delusion lasted. He had been unwilling to take a wife, though women desired and loved him. He had compromised so far as to have friends, but he was always conscious of the exceptions he was making. “I have ever hated all nations, professions, and communities, and all my love is towards individuals.... But principally I hate and detest that animal called man, although I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth. This is the system upon[Pg 185] which I have governed myself many years.... Upon this great foundation of misanthropy ... the whole building of my Travels is erected; and I will never have peace of mind till all honest men are of my opinion.”

If he had been fully alien he would not have troubled himself to be a missionary. He was a man to the extent that he was a moralist as well as a misanthrope. He would cure if he could. If not, he would punish. “Drown the world! I am not content with despising it, but I would anger it if I could with safety.” Here was the flaw in his misanthropy. Here was the strain of humanity through which he could be fretted and hurt. Here was the deep source of his fury. But he was alien enough to feel, dramatically, that he was only a traveller in strange lands.

Yet Swift was not a Timon, bawling and railing. Swift’s misanthropy was in his constitution, not in his disposition. His friends spoke always of his sweetness, his charm, his delightful temper, his hearty affections, his honest generosity. He had about him a magic almost like beauty’s magic. Nor did they think of him as morose and surly, whatever he said about himself. “Gulliver is a happy man,” said the experienced Arbuthnot, “that at his age can write such a merry work.” Swift on his travels could no more help the wit on his tongue than he could help the detestation in his heart.

[Pg 186]

He was as ingenious as he was grave. He took pains, with a few slips, to draw his pigmies and giants to scale, the pigmies an inch to a human foot, the giants a foot to a human inch. He deftly commandeered the inventions of earlier writers: Philostratus, Lucian, Rabelais, Cyrano de Bergerac, Perrot d’Ablancourt, Tom Brown. The nautical terms paraded in the voyage to Brobdingnag were copied almost word for word from a mariner’s handbook. Swift did not disdain to parody contemporary travellers. Whereas a mere misanthrope would have clamoured, a mere moralist would have scolded, Swift, being a wit, was satisfied to tell a story, pretending that he was a spectator who had no share in what he told. There were the characters, there were the incidents. They could be understood by anybody who had an understanding.

Consider the insectile people of Lilliput. Swift, in the guise of Gulliver, was at first received with dread, then with wonder, then with hospitality. Though they kept him a prisoner, they let him into the secrets of the Court and of the government, which were preposterously like England’s. The Lilliputian ministers to commend themselves to the king capered before him on a tight-rope. Gulliver, whose mind was part of Swift’s, remembered larger ministers. Flimnap, who could caper an inch higher than any other lord in the empire, seemed remarkably like Walpole. The great[Pg 187] men of Lilliput who sought honours from their king competed, by jumping over a stick held in his hand, for silken threads six inches long, one blue, one red, one green, which reminded Gulliver of the Order of the Garter, of the Bath, and of the Thistle.

Lilliput and the neighbouring Blefuscu had long been at war. A Lilliputian schism was the cause. Formerly all the people had broken their eggs at the larger end. One of their kings, having cut his finger on the larger end of one of his eggs, had by royal edict made the smaller end orthodox. There had been a civil war. Some of the defeated conservatives had fled to Blefuscu and had there found refuge and favour at the court. England, Gulliver reflected, had been entirely Catholic before Henry VIII. The Catholic Pretender had fled to France, and France had long been at war with England.

Grateful for the kindness shown him, Gulliver aided Lilliput in its war by capturing the Blefuscudian fleet and bringing it as a gift to his royal host. But the Lilliputians were no more grateful in return than the English had been to the Oxford ministry for ending the war with France. One party among the pigmies insisted that Blefuscu be subjugated to a province with a viceroy, as some of the Whigs had insisted France might be. The sourest of the tiny ministers became Gulliver’s enemy, as the dismal Nottingham had become Swift’s.

[Pg 188]

Gulliver’s chief offence was that, when a fire broke out in the queen’s apartment at the palace, he extinguished it in a manner more natural to him than agreeable to the queen. Had not Queen Anne implacably resented the spattering ridicule which Swift had let fall upon what he thought was menacing the Church and State? Thereafter the position of Gulliver in Lilliput was hopeless. The cabinet decided he must die. The friendly minister Reldresal, who may have stood for Carteret, thought it would be enough to blind Gulliver and allow him to starve to death.

From that compromise Gulliver escaped to Blefuscu, and back to England, knowing that the smallest people in the world had all the familiar follies and vices of mankind in general.

Next Swift, as Gulliver, was blown to the giants of Brobdingnag, that humane people. It was his turn to be insectile. He was exhibited as a toy freak by the kind, greedy farmer who had found him. Scientists wondered what species he could belong to. The king, being a philosopher, supposed that such creatures as Gulliver “have their titles and distinctions of honour; they contrive little nests and burrows that they call houses and cities; they make a figure in dress and equipage; they love, they fight, they dispute, they cheat, they betray.” And when Gulliver had defended his species by an account of their government and politics, their wars and luxuries, the king, being a[Pg 189] humane philosopher, concluded “your natives to be the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.”

He himself abominated mystery, refinement, and intrigue in governors. He limited government “to common sense and reason, to justice and lenity, to the speedy determination of civil and criminal causes.” He held that “whoever could make two ears of corn or two blades of grass grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before would deserve better of mankind ... than the whole race of politicians put together.” Gulliver, or Swift, sardonically despaired of such a monarch. His people were no better. Their learning was only in morality, history, poetry, and useful mathematics. They were unable to form conceptions of what Gulliver meant by “entities, abstractions, and transcendentals.” They were dull with virtue and peace.

Gulliver found in their habits less to remind him of England than he had found in Lilliput. His story was taken up with the ingenious shifts by which he got along among them. But after the giants he could not so easily return to the old scale of life as he could after the pigmies. His own people seemed contemptible by their smallness. He was twice as far from mankind as he had been before.

Swift’s, Gulliver’s, third voyage seems to have been[Pg 190] to the Country of Horses, but when he told the story he saved that for the venomous conclusion and in the third place put the account of the Flying Island and the continent which was topsy-turvy with philosophers.

Once more, as in Lilliput, he was often reminded of Europe. The name of Laputa was like the Spanish for harlot. The island, when its rulers wished, could hover over stubborn cities and shut out the sun, as England shut out the sun from Ireland. Whether aloft or on land the people were rapt in abstruse speculations or abandoned to fantastic projects. Among the islanders nobody spoke sense except, possibly, the tradesmen, women, and children. The others were so many pedants exaggerated from the breed that Swift had detested in his earliest satires. The Academy of Lagado was a Bedlam of Science, where men wore out their lives trying to extract sunbeams from cucumbers, to build houses downward from the roofs in the fashion of the bees and spiders, to plow fields only with the snouts of hogs, to make silk from spider webs, to cure colic with a pair of bellows, to soften marble for pincushions, to propagate naked sheep, to write books by a mechanical device, to discover painless methods of taxation.

Gulliver grew dizzy. He lacked the head, as Swift did, for this whirling universe. It did not steady him when, on the neighbouring island of Glubbdubdrib, he was allowed to call up the spirits of the famous[Pg 191] dead and found how falsely they had been presented in history. It did not steady him when in Luggnagg he learned of the immortal struldbrugs, for whom immortality was only human life prolonged to an infinity of horrible old age. “I ... thought,” said Gulliver, for Swift, “that no tyrant could invent a death into which I would not run with pleasure from such a life.” When he was out of the mad lands of Laputa, Balnibarbi, Glubbdubdrib, and Luggnagg, he was nearly upside down, giddy, and three times as far from mankind.

Now for the antipodes of misanthropy. Among the Houyhnhnms Gulliver was almost undisguisedly Swift. The day on which Gulliver set sail from Portsmouth was the precise day of September 1710 on which Swift had arrived in London to make his fortune with the new men in power. Gulliver’s discovery of an island where the horses were as much wiser and nobler as they were stronger than the men was such a discovery as Swift may have made as he rode through desolate, beggarly Ireland.

It is easy to guess, though only to guess, that the device came to his mind on that dark expedition to the south in the summer of 1723 after Vanessa’s death. Everywhere he saw the “savage old Irish,” “miserable, tattered, half-starved creatures, scarce in human shape,” living “in the utmost ignorance, barbarity, and poverty, giving themselves wholly up to idleness, nastiness, and thievery,” “brought up to steal or beg[Pg 192] for want of work,” so that to them “death would be the best thing to be wished for both on account of themselves and the public.” Swift had not yet reached the point where he could take up the cause of these miserable victims. He felt chiefly a sick repulsion. He would not admit that they and he were of the same kind. At least they must belong to a tribe which had degenerated till they were less than beasts.

Less than beasts? Compare them with his horse, healthy, patient, without follies or vices, incapable of pride. Horses, the animals Swift had most to do with and knew best, were more fit to rule than degraded men. Suppose some traveller should find a country where the horses did rule. Suppose Gulliver were to find it. The Scriblerus Club had not decided what race Martin was to visit on his fourth voyage, only that he was to “display a vein of melancholy proceeding almost to a disgust of his species.” Nothing could disgust a traveller, even wholesome Gulliver, more than to study the horrid antics of a debased human tribe in the company of utopian horses who could see little difference between him and those apish copies. Gulliver had been disgusted among the giants when the maids of honour laid him against their terrible breasts. That had been only a shrinking of his senses. Now his soul itself must shrink with an absolute antipathy from which he could not recover. When he came back he would prefer the horses of England to the men.

[Pg 193]

With something like these gathering plans, though they must be guessed at, in something like this mood, which is certain enough, Swift rode through the south and west. In September he was in Dublin again. By the next January he had “left the Country of Horses.”

On his icy, fiery travels among the Houyhnhnms Swift (why call him Gulliver?) did not bother to observe such stinging likenesses to particular English persons and episodes as he observed among the pigmies and the philosophers. The last of his adventures was the simplest, as it was the most deadly. All actual fantasy, all apparent fact.

He came upon his first Yahoos without realizing that they were inferior men and upon his first Houyhnhnms without realizing that they were superior horses. When he found himself taken for a Yahoo he hurried to tell his Houyhnhnm master about Europe. He told him of wars, their causes, means, and ends; of litigation and the arts of lawyers; of money, and of poverty and riches; of luxury and dissipation; of diseases and their remedies; of ministers of state and noblemen. The reasonable Houyhnhnm said he had noticed the rudiments of all these human ways of life among the Yahoos.

They had their tribal and civil wars. They hoarded shining stones which they could not use, fought over them, and sometimes lost them to bystanders who snatched them away as expertly as any lawyer. They[Pg 194] gorged themselves with food and sucked a root that made them drunk. They had the only diseases in the country, because of their gluttony and filth. They had in most herds a sort of ruling Yahoo, always deformed in body and mischievous in disposition, who continued in office till a worse could be found. They were lewd and promiscuous. They were invariably dirty and sometimes splenetic. They had, it appeared, all the human vices except unnatural appetites, these “politer pleasures” not having occurred to them. They were unteachable because they were perverse and restive, but they had the brains to be cunning, malicious, treacherous, revengeful, insolent, abject, and cruel. It was plain to the Houyhnhnm who talked with Swift that the visitor was a Yahoo after all. That “small pittance of reason” which by some accident had been given to the European Yahoos they used only to multiply their natural corruptions and to acquire new ones not supplied by nature.

To be fully reasonable was to be like the Houyhnhnms. They did not know what lying was. They affirmed or denied only when they were certain. Their two principal virtues were friendship and benevolence, felt towards the whole species without partiality except where there were special virtues to attract them. In marriage they were without jealousy, fondness, quarrelling, or discontent. The young of both sexes were brought up in moderation, industry, exercise, and[Pg 195] cleanliness. Their only government was an annual council of the entire nation. They had no literature except poems composed, not written down, in praise of virtue. They were skilful workmen in the necessary arts, but wasted no time on superfluity or show. Reasonably born and bred, they lived reasonably without passions and died reasonably without sickness or fear.

“At first, indeed, I did not feel that natural awe which the Yahoos and all other animals bear towards them; but it grew upon me by degrees, much sooner than I imagined, and was mingled with a respectful love and gratitude that they would condescend to distinguish me from the rest of my species. When I thought of my family, my friends, my countrymen, or human race in general, I considered them as they really were, Yahoos in shape and disposition.” Swift would have remained with the Houyhnhnms for ever if they had not sent him away. The beasts could not tolerate a man. Nor could a man who had lived among the beasts ever again live among men without disgust.

The fourth voyage marked the peak of Swift’s fury and of his art. Great as that art was, it could not quite conceal that fury. The narrative might seem, however fantastic, to be the very mathematics of misanthropy, never looser than a syllogism. But the cold tread of intellect was repeatedly broken by the rush of nerves. The most reasonable sentence might suddenly throb with words of a shuddering hate. “Imagine twenty[Pg 196] thousand of them breaking into the midst of an European army, confounding the ranks, overturning the carriages, battering the warriors’ faces into mummy by terrible yerks from their hinder hoofs.” Intellect would have been satisfied with beating the European Yahoos down; nerves, furious and yet frightened at their own desperation, must imagine battering the noisome faces into mummy. Nothing less than an agonized antipathy could have made Swift remark that the female Yahoo who embraced Gulliver was not red-haired, “which might have been some excuse for an appetite a little irregular,” but “black as a sloe”—or as Stella. Hate possessed him as love possesses some other men.

If he had been a lover of his kind he might have been hot with praises for the lofty merits which he found in them, and might have seen the world smirk at his tribute. Instead, he was a hater. Was there not as good an excuse for hating as for loving? Was it any less accurate to perceive ugliness, deformity, vice, stupidity, loathsomeness in the human race than to perceive beauty, grace, virtue, wit, charm? Swift would have known that these were absurd questions, asked to no purpose. Mankind would always answer them for its own comfort, which demands that love must be, in moral arguments, preferred to hate. The crowded tribes of the earth lived too precariously to welcome the hate, however instinctive, which might[Pg 197] come among them to separate man from man, tribe from tribe, man from tribe. Only in the warmth of love could they live together. If the Swifts of the world must hate they must live alone, even if what they hated, as with Swift, was hate itself, along with cruelty, avarice, oppression, filth, intemperance, presumption.

All this Swift had learned. But he had no choice. His nature insisted upon taking its revenge as a coiled spring insists upon uncoiling as soon as it is free. He had travelled through the world. He would tell the whole truth about his travels.

2

A man who had been around the world and under it might after twelve years of banishment venture from Ireland to London. Swift’s friends had never ceased urging him to visit them again. He would only now and then allow himself to think of it.

“What can be the design of your letter but malice,” he wrote to Gay in January 1723, “to wake me out of a scurvy sleep, which however is better than none?... I shall not be able to relish my wine, my parsons, my horses, nor my garden for three months, until the spirit you have raised shall be dispossessed. I have sometimes wondered that I have not visited you, but I have been stopped by too many reasons, besides years and laziness, and yet these are very good ones.[Pg 198] Upon my return after half a year amongst you there would be to me desiderio nec pudor nec modus. I was three years reconciling myself to the scene and the business to which fortune has condemned me, and stupidity was what I had recourse to. Besides, what a figure should I make in London, while my friends are in poverty, exile, distress, or imprisonment, and my enemies with rods of iron? Yet I often threaten myself with the journey, and am every summer practising to ride and get health to bear it. The only inconvenience is that I grow old in the experiment.”

But in November 1724, Oxford having died, Oxford’s son invited Swift to come to England to write the biography which he had proposed. “There would be nobody more welcome to me than yourself. You should live in your own way and do just what was most agreeable to you. I have houses enough; you shall take your choice.” By September 1725 Swift had his Travels ready to be printed. With two such reasons for going he had no excuse for staying. His friends urged him with fresh tenderness and wit.

“I have often imagined to myself,” Pope wrote in October, “that if ever all of us met again, after so many varieties and changes, after so much of the old world and of the old man in each of us has been altered, after there has been such a new heaven and a new earth in our minds and bodies that scarce a single thought of the one, any more than a single atom of[Pg 199] the other, remains just the same—I have fancied, I say, that we should meet like the righteous in the millennium, quite in peace, divested of all our former passions, smiling at all our own designs, and content to enjoy the kingdom of the just in tranquillity.”

Arbuthnot, just recovering from a nearly fatal illness, had intended to add a postscript to Pope’s letter. He was so moved by what Swift had said—“Oh! if the world had but a dozen Arbuthnots in it I would burn my Travels”—that he wrote a letter of his own. “For God’s sake do not tantalize your friends any more. I can prove by twenty unanswerable arguments that it is absolutely necessary you should come over to England; that it would be committing the greatest absurdity that ever was not to do it the next approaching winter. I believe, indeed, it is just possible to save your soul without it, and that is all.”

Some feverish disorder kept Swift “sitting like a toad in a corner of his great house” for a part of that winter, but he had set his mind on England for the spring. “If you do not know me when we meet,” he told Pope, “you need only keep one of my letters and compare it with my face, for my face and letters are counterparts of my heart.” About the middle of March he was in London, in the best of health and spirits, Pope said, and “the joy of all here who know him, as he was eleven years ago.”

There were two weeks of joyful, leisurely reunion.[Pg 200] Pope left his villa for Swift’s lodgings. Arbuthnot “led him a course through the town” with such new men of fashion as Lord Chesterfield and William Pulteney (later the Earl of Bath). Harcourt and Peterborough made plans to introduce him to Walpole; Pope, though Arbuthnot got ahead of him, to the household of the Prince of Wales through Mrs. Howard, the Princess’s confidante. Swift visited Bolingbroke and Pope in the country, and by the first of April was ready, with Pope, “to ramble to Lord Oxford’s and Lord Bathurst’s and other places.” Pope found his guest “the best-natured and most indulgent man I know.”

Swift had come into a world as strange to him as the world he had found in 1710. Though the Whigs were in power, they were not the Whigs he had known. Somers, Halifax, Wharton, and Addison were dead. Congreve was alive, but gouty and almost blind. Steele was alive, but in Wales and paralyzed. The Tories Swift had known were scattered. Oxford had died, Ormond had settled in Spain, Bolingbroke, though pardoned and again in England, was excluded from the House of Lords. The Society of Brothers no longer dined together, men of influence with men of wit. Prior was dead.

Only in what had once been the Scriblerus Club was London much the same as Swift had left it, except that Parnell too was dead. Bolingbroke, formerly a kind of honorary member, now gave his time to[Pg 201] philosophizing near Uxbridge about the uses of retirement and scheming how to get back in power. Pope, having made a fortune out of Homer, had retired to his house and grotto at Twickenham and was brewing poison for the dunces. Gay, with a small sinecure and lodgings in the palace at Whitehall, was completing the fables which he wrote for Prince William, son of the Prince of Wales. Arbuthnot, still as always a man of learning, virtue, sense, and wit, called his house in London Martin’s office, though the Scriblerus Club had given up its regular meetings.

Swift, being Swift, could not withhold himself from politics. The authorities in Ireland warned the authorities in England to watch out for him. Walpole, who may have wanted to win Swift over and who may have wanted merely to learn about Irish affairs, invited Swift to dine with him at Chelsea and later to call on him in London. First and last they were at deadlock, however, though scandal buzzed about a treaty between them. Walpole’s opinions concerning Ireland, Swift said, “I could not reconcile to the notions I had of liberty.” “I was neither offered nor would have received” any promotion “except upon conditions which would never be granted.” By the end of April he was “weary of being among ministers whom I cannot govern, who are all rank Tories in government and worse than Whigs in Church, whereas I was the first man who taught and practised the direct contrary[Pg 202] principle.” If he had any hope it was in the opposition being organized by Pulteney and Sir William Wyndham, with the help and advice of Bolingbroke, and with the name of the Patriots. But Swift’s old zest, perhaps his old delusion, had gone.

“This is the first time I was ever weary of England and longed to be in Ireland,” he wrote to Sheridan. “But it is because go I must, for I do not love Ireland better nor England, as England, worse. In short, you all live in a wretched, dirty doghole and prison, but it is a place good enough to die in. I can tell you one thing, that I have had the fairest offer made me of a settlement here that one can imagine, which if I were ten years younger I would gladly accept, within ten miles of London and in the midst of my friends. But I am too old for new schemes, and especially such as would bridle my freedoms and liberalities.”

This was Swift’s way of saying that though some unknown patron had offered him a pleasant living in England, and it tempted him, he actually preferred Ireland, where he could be, as Dean, independent and liberal. He was closer to Ireland than he would admit. He did not during his stay in England even find time to go through the Oxford papers among which he had once thought he wanted to live over the days of his power, writing the history of the minister he had served and loved.

But if public affairs were disappointing, friendship[Pg 203] and wit, for which Swift had his genius, were all he had looked forward to. His friends would not take his politics too seriously. “I hope,” Bolingbroke wrote to “the three Yahoos of Twickenham, Jonathan, Alexander, John,” “Jonathan’s imagination of business will be succeeded by some imagination more becoming a professor of the divine science la bagatelle.” During May and June Swift was as cheerful as he ever urged others to be. He was at Twickenham with Gay and Pope, content to let the world go its way if they could laugh at it. “Mr. Pope ... prescribes all our visits without our knowledge, and Mr. Gay and I find ourselves often engaged for three or four days to come, and we neither of us dare dispute his pleasure.” Bolingbroke and Bathurst were not far away. Congreve came out to dinner. Mrs. Howard had a house at Marble Hill. The Prince of Wales’s court left London for Richmond where Swift made it his habit, as he put it, “to sponge a breakfast once a week.”

The days were as busy, if not as weighty, as they had been for Swift when he spent them with the Ministry, but in the evenings he played backgammon with Pope’s mother. Pope, Gay, and Swift went off for two weeks on horseback, to Lord Cobham’s house at Stowe, to Bathurst’s house at Cirencester, probably to Windsor Forest. Pope and Swift seem to have helped Gay with a ballad which he wrote at the inn at Wokingham. All three of them agreed upon a volume or[Pg 204] volumes of miscellanies in which, as Pope described it, they were to “look like friends, side by side, serious and merry by turns, not in the stiff forms of learned authors, flattering each other and setting the rest of mankind at naught, but in a free, unimportant, natural, easy manner, diverting others just as we diverted ourselves.”

At the same time, Twickenham saw them working upon bigger schemes. Gay had his fables, taking from the behaviour of animals the rules for human conduct which he wittily versified for the little prince. Pope, angry at the spiteful dunces who had envied his success, was paying them off in a satire. Swift at first had thought they hardly deserved it. “Take care the bad poets do not outwit you, as they have served the good ones in every age, whom they have provoked to transmit their names to posterity.” Swift himself almost never mentioned fools by name when he slaughtered them in prose or verse, unless the slaughter were political. But when he read Pope’s satire he changed his mind, as Pope had now changed his. Pope was going to burn the verses. Swift saved them from the fire. When three such wits had come together they might as well all whip the world. Let Gay have his moral animals, and Pope his dunces. Swift would take mankind.

They read and discussed his Travels. Pope and Swift thought of means of publishing the book so[Pg 205] stealthily that there would be no danger of prosecution. The printer, having seen a quarter of it, agreed to pay within six months the two hundred pounds which Pope made Swift demand. Only after Swift had left England the middle of August did the printer receive the manuscript, “he knew not whence, nor from whom, dropped at his house in the dark from a hackney coach” in which it is likely that the mystifying Pope enjoyed his subterfuge.

Secret enough, but not half as secret as Swift was about something dearer to him than any book. From the beginning of his visit he was worried about Stella, who was very sick at home but tried to keep the news from him. “I have these two months seen through Mrs. Dingley’s disguises,” Swift wrote in July. Early in that month he heard that Stella was in danger. Though it destroyed his peace, he said nothing to his friends in England. Bolingbroke knew that Swift had a friend called Stella and gallantly assumed she was his mistress. To Pope and Gay and Arbuthnot she was at most only a vague shape in Ireland. Neither at Twickenham nor at Whitehall, where Swift later lived with Gay, was she more than that. Swift, so long used to discretion where Stella was concerned, showed them a wit’s face, not a lover’s heart. But his letters to his friends in Ireland made plain how his grief had shaken him.

“What you tell me of Mrs. Johnson I have long expected,[Pg 206] with great oppression and heaviness of heart. We have been perfect friends these thirty-five years. Upon my advice they both came to Ireland and have been ever since my constant companions; and the remainder of my life will be a very melancholy scene when one of them is gone whom I most esteemed upon the score of every good quality than can possibly recommend a human creature.... My heart has been so sunk that I have not been the same man, nor ever shall be again, but drag on a wretched life till it shall please God to call me away.... I wish it could be brought about that she might make her will....

“Think how I am disposed while I write this, and forgive the inconsistencies. I would not for the universe be present at such a trial of seeing her depart. She will be among friends that upon her account and great worth will tend her with all possible care, where I should be a trouble to her and the greatest torment to myself. In case the matter should be desperate I would have you advise, if they come to town, that they should be lodged in some airy, healthy part and not in the deanery, which besides, you know, cannot but be a very improper thing for that house to breathe her last in. This I leave to your discretion, and I conjure you to burn this letter immediately, without telling the contents of it to any person alive.

“Pray write me every week, that I may know what steps to take; for I am determined not to go to Ireland[Pg 207] to find her just dead or dying. Nothing but extremity could make me familiar with those terrible words, applied to such a dear friend. Let her know I have bought her a repeating gold watch, for her ease in winter nights. I designed to have surprised her with it, but now I would have her know it, that she may see how my thoughts were always to make her easy. I am of opinion that there is not a greater folly than to contract too great and intimate a friendship, which must always leave the survivor miserable.... When you have read this letter twice, and retain what I desire, pray burn it and let all I have said lie only in your breast.

“Pray write every week.... I would rather have good news from you than Canterbury, though it were given me upon my own terms.”

What other lover who ever lived could, staggering with grief and dread, have talked about the terms of his lover’s will, measured her loss against the gain of an archbishopric, remembered that she must not die in his house, hesitated to go to her, and commanded that his anguish be kept secret?

“One of the two oldest and dearest friends I have in the world is in so desperate a condition of health as makes me expect every post to hear of her death. It is the younger of the two with whom I have lived in the greatest friendship for thirty-three years.... For my part, as I value life very little, so the poor casual remains[Pg 208] of it, after such a loss, would be a burden that I must heartily beg God Almighty to enable me to bear; and I think there is not a greater folly than that of entering into too strict and particular a friendship, with the loss of which a man must be absolutely miserable, but especially at an age when it is too late to engage in a new friendship. Besides, this was a person of my own rearing and instructing, from childhood, who excelled in every good quality that can possibly accomplish a human creature.... Pardon me, I know not what I am saying. But believe me that violent friendship is much more lasting and as much engaging as violent love.”

Towards the end of July, Swift, at Twickenham, was one day answering a letter from Sheridan. “The account you give me is nothing but what I have some time expected with the utmost agonies, and there is one aggravation of constraint, that where I am I am forced to put on an easy countenance. It was at this time the best office your friendship could do, not to deceive me.... I look upon this as the greatest event that can ever happen to me, but all my preparations will not suffice to make me bear it like a philosopher, nor altogether like a Christian. There hath been the most intimate friendship between us from her childhood, and the greatest merit, on her side, that ever was in one human creature towards another. Nay, if I were now near her I would not see her. I could not behave[Pg 209] myself tolerably, and should redouble her sorrow. Judge in what a temper of mind I write this. The very time I am writing I conclude the fairest soul in the world hath left its body.”

Just then Swift was interrupted. “Confusion! that I am this moment called down to a visitor, when I am in the country and not in my power to deny myself.”

He came back to his unfinished letter. “I have passed a very constrained hour, and now return to say I know not what. I have been long weary of the world, and shall for my small remainder of years be weary of life, having for ever lost that conversation which alone could make it tolerable. I fear while you are reading this you will be shedding tears at her funeral.”

In a week Swift knew that, no matter what he faced, he must go to Ireland. Pope, ignorant of the full reason, was so unwilling to lose his friend that he travelled with him to Chester. “I felt the extreme heat of the weather,” Pope said, “the inns, the roads, the confinement and closeness of the uneasy coach, and wished a hundred times I had either a deanery or a horse in my gift” to keep Swift in England or to make his journey more comfortable. But there were no words between them about Stella, as there were no words about her in any of the letters he wrote back to his English friends. Swift, so copious and eloquent about most of his passions, about this one was as quiet as a stone. Pope, who suspected something, risked only[Pg 210] a hint in his wish that “you may find every friend you have there in the state you wish him or her.” Talking about everything else in the world the two great wits rode in the uneasy coach to Chester, where Swift was prepared to find mortal news waiting for him. The only word from him about her is in a letter to an Irish friend two months later. “Mrs. Johnson is much recovered since I saw her first, but still very lean and low.”

3

Pope wished “that your visits to us may have no other effect than the progress of a rich man to a remote estate, which he finds greater than he expected, which knowledge only serves to make him happier where he is, with no disagreeable prospect if ever he should choose to remove.” And Swift, coming home from his rich estate in London, was received, Arbuthnot said, like a Lord Lieutenant. When the ship was sighted in Dublin Bay the bells of the city were set to ringing. The Corporation, with less official citizens, went out in wherries to meet the “Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver.” The docks had bunting, every street a bonfire. The populace cheered their defender as he landed and rode to his gloomy house.

If Swift was human, as well as Swift, he was warmed by this loud affection. But they were the people who had hooted him when he came over to be Dean, before[Pg 211] he had fought for them about their copper farthings. “I have often reflected in how few hours, with a swift horse or a strong gale, a man may come among a people as unknown to him as the antipodes.” Between Swift and the Irish, or between him and any body of men, it was too late for reconciliation. He had been an alien all his life, and he had proved it in his Travels. There the world would soon have a chance to study its disgusting face.

Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World, published 28 October 1726 to vex the world rather than divert it, diverted it. Nobody spoke or apparently even thought of prosecution. “The politicians to a man agree,” Pope and Gay wrote to Swift, “that it is free from particular reflections, but that the satire on general societies of men is too severe.” Politicians were no more disposed than they were obliged to defend the human race against a libel. Mankind, invincibly abstract, invulnerably obtuse to general assaults, laughed. “From the highest to the lowest” the book was read, “from the cabinet council to the nursery.” The Princess of Wales did not care, probably did not know, that she was supposed to have sat for the Queen of Brobdingnag. She was delighted. The Duchess of Marlborough was “in raptures” and willing to forgive her old enemy. Arbuthnot saw that the book was to be a classic, and forecast for it “as great a run as John Bunyan.” The first impression was sold within a week.[Pg 212] There were Dublin editions, and translations into French and Dutch within a year.

The third voyage, with its multiplied ridicule of pedants, pleased the least. That satire was too limited. Readers preferred to see all mankind in the refracting glass. Monkeys before a mirror, Swift might have said. They accepted the likenesses which they recognized, but they did not recognize those which might have vexed them. At least they did not take such likenesses to themselves. Untroubled by the satire, they enjoyed the story, so marvellous yet so circumstantial, so ingenious yet so simple. “Such a merry work,” Arbuthnot called it. Who was there who could fail to be diverted by these adventures among pigmies and giants, on an island that moved through the air, in a land where horses used men as beasts? Who minded that the traveller was a misanthrope? Misanthropy did not hurt its objects, so long as it confined itself to words.

Swift, accusing mankind of every vice and folly, had thought of it as more sensitive or less frivolous than it was. He let drive with all his pitiless force, and the world applauded his witty marksmanship.

Stella having for the time recovered, Swift went again the next April to England, where the Earl of Peterborough thought the Dean ran the risk of becoming a bishop. The second visit was an anticlimax. Swift made no progress with the life of Oxford. He was completely out of favour with Walpole. Twickenham,[Pg 213] happily as Pope welcomed Swift there, was not what it had seemed before. It was pleasant to talk with Pope about his dunces. It was pleasant to read the verses of the opera which Gay, to whom Swift had said that “a Newgate pastoral might make an odd, pretty sort of thing,” was writing about rogues and beggars. It was pleasant to concoct their miscellanies, in which the poems to Stella were to appear. But it was unpleasant for Swift to be so deaf that he could hardly hear Pope’s feeble voice or have a share in the conversation of the friends who came to see them. Swift began to feel that he was a burden. He would go to London.

He would go to France. Voltaire gave him letters of introduction. Swift exchanged opinions with his French translator, telling him, in his French, that if the Travels were calculated only for the British Isles then the traveller was a pitiable writer. The same vices and the same follies, he said, reigned everywhere, at least in all the civilized countries of Europe; and the author who wrote only for one city, one province, one kingdom, or even one age so little deserved to be translated that he did not deserve to be read.

The death of George I and the accession to the throne of the Prince and Princess of Wales, who were the only royal friends Swift ever had, held him in England. Once more, and for the last time, he was disappointed. Walpole, after a fluttering interval, retained[Pg 214] his power. Wit alone could not make a man a bishop.

Stella, it turned out, could not be well without Swift. He had left her settled in the deanery for the summer. In August Sheridan wrote that she was once more in danger. Swift, at the house of a kinsman in London, was helpless with his own malady.

“I walk like a drunken man, and am deafer than ever you knew me. If I had any tolerable health I would go this moment to Ireland. Yet I think I would not, considering the news I daily expect to hear from you.... I kept it [Sheridan’s letter] an hour in my pocket with all the suspense of a man who expected to hear the worst news that fortune could give him, and at the same time was not able to hold up my head.... I know not whether it be an addition to my grief or not, that I am now extremely ill; for it would have been a reproach to me to be in perfect health when such a friend is desperate. I do profess upon my salvation that the distressed and desperate condition of our friend makes life so indifferent to me, who by course of nature have so little left, that I do not think it worth the time to struggle. Yet I should think, according to what hath been formerly, that I may happen to overcome this present disorder. And to what advantage? Why, to see the loss of that person for whose sake only life was worth preserving.... What have I to do in the world? I never was in such agonies as when I received[Pg 215] your letter and had it in my pocket. I am able to hold up my head no longer.”

Still Swift would not tell his English friends about Stella. His secret had been buried in him too long to be dug up now. Too much of his heart would have come with it. Suddenly leaving London in September he lurched across England to Chester. Offered a passage from Parkgate in the official yacht, he refused, thinking he would be in Ireland sooner if he rode through Wales and shipped from Holyhead. There the winds delayed him for a week, spent in the smoky rooms of an inn which had no decent wine to drink, no books to read, no customers who could speak English.

Morning and afternoon he walked in the wind on the rocks. “I was so cunning these three last days that whenever I began to rage and storm at the weather I took special care to turn my face towards Ireland, in hopes by my breath to push the wind forward. But now I give up.” Every night he dined alone, and had five dreary hours ahead of him before he went to bed. Sleep was no relief. He had fantastic dreams, such as that Bolingbroke was preaching in St. Patrick’s and quoting Wycherley in his sermon. Morning was no restoration. Swift looked for the wind to change, and it would not change. “I live in suspense, which is the worst circumstance of human nature.” There was nothing to do but “scribble or sit humdrum.” He scribbled prose and verse.

亥猪对应地支 “亥”，五行属水，天温和善良、豁达乐观，待人真诚、与世争，事业中踏实肯干、心态平和，不贪图名利、不喜纷争，靠沉稳与善良立足。2026 丙午马年，运势平稳大波动，适耕主业、磨技能，稳中求进，5 月 2 日壬辰月丙子日，水木相生，运势平稳，事业稳步前行。

职场表现上，当日亥猪心态平和、工作踏实认真，做事有条不紊、耐心细致，能按部就班完成本职工作，态度端正、责任心强。待人真诚友善，不与人争执，与同事相处融洽，团队协作氛围和谐，能有化解团队矛盾，凝聚团队力量。对于从事农业、养殖、食品、物流、酒店、公益等行业的属猪人，当日行业运势平稳，工作开展顺利，易获得稳定成果。

机遇契机面，当日属猪人事业发展平稳，虽重大机遇，但能在平稳中积累成果，适耕本职工作，磨业技能，夯实事业基础。职场中人际关系和谐，易获得同事帮助，工作进阻力较小，心情舒畅。此外，当日适维护客户关系、巩固作资源，为后续事业稳定发展提供保障。

潜在阻碍上，当日属猪人易因过于佛系、缺乏进取心，安于现状、不愿突破，致事业发展停滞不前，难以获得晋升机会。同时，温和善良的格易被人利用，遭遇同事诿工作、占成果的情况，需学会适度拒，维护自身权益。此外，做事缺乏主见，易受他人影响，盲目跟风，致工作失误。

发展建议：当日宜保持踏实平和的心态，耕本职工作，积累经验与成果，稳步进事业发展。适当增强进取心，树立长远目标，主动学习提升，突破自我局限。坚守原则，学会拒不理要求，维护自身职场权益；培养立思考能力，坚定自身立场，不盲目跟风。

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