Swift took up his permanent residence in the Irish capital in 1714. The Harley Administration had fallen never to rise again. Harley himself was a prisoner in the Tower, and Bolingbroke a voluntary exile in France, and an open adherent of the Pretender. Swift came to Dublin to be met by the jeers of the populace, the suspicion of the government officials, and the polite indifference of his clerical colleagues. He had time enough now in which to reflect and employ his brain powers. For several years he kept himself altogether to his duties as Dean of the Cathedral of St. Patrick's, only venturing his pen in letters to dear friends in England—to Pope, Atterbury, Lady Howard. His private relations with Miss Hester Vanhomrigh came to a climax, also, during this period, and his peculiar intimacy with "Stella" Johnson took the definite shape in which we now know it.

He found himself in debt to his predecessor, Sterne, for a large and comfortless house and for the cost of his own installation into his office. The money he was to have received (£1,000) to defray these expenses, from the last administration, was now, on its fall, kept back from him. Swift had these encumbrances to pay off and he had his Chapter to see to. He did both in characteristic fashion. By dint of almost penurious saving he accomplished the former and the latter he managed autocratically and with good sense. His connection with Oxford and Bolingbroke had been of too intimate a nature for those in power to ignore him. Indeed, his own letters to Knightley Chetwode[1] show us that he was in great fear of arrest. But there is now no doubt that the treasonable relations between Harley and St. John and the Pretender were a great surprise to Swift when they were discovered. He himself had always been an ardent supporter of the Protestant succession, and his writings during his later period in Ireland constantly emphasize this attitude of his—almost too much so.

The condition of Ireland as Swift found it in 1714, and as he had known of it even before that time, was of a kind to rouse a temper like his to quick and indignant expression. Even as early as the spring of 1716 we find him unable to restrain himself, and in his letter to Atterbury of April 18th we catch the spirit which, four years later, showed itself in "The Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufactures" and the "Drapier's Letters," and culminated in 1729 in the terrible "Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People from being a Burthen to their Parents." To Atterbury he wrote:

"I congratulate with England for joining with us here in the fellowship of slavery. It is not so terrible a thing as you imagine: we have long lived under it: and whenever you are disposed to know how to behave yourself in your new condition, you need go no further than me for a director. But, because we are resolved to go beyond you, we have transmitted a bill to England, to be returned here, giving the Government and six of the Council power for three years to imprison whom they please for three months, without any trial or examination: and I expect to be among the first of those upon whom this law will be executed."

Writing to Archdeacon Walls (May 5th, 1715)[2] of the people in power, he said:

"They shall be deceived as far as my power reaches, and shall not find me altogether so great a cully as they would willingly make me."

At that time England was beginning to initiate a new method for what it called the proper government of Ireland. Hitherto it had tried the plan of setting one party in the country against another; but now a new party was called into being, known as the "English party." This party had nothing to do with the Irish national spirit, and any man, no matter how capable, who held by such a national spirit, was to be set aside. There was to be no Irish party or parties as such—there was to be only the English party governing Ireland in the interests of England. It was the beginning of a government which led to the appointment of such a man as Primate Boulter, who simply ruled Ireland behind the Lord Lieutenant (who was but a figurehead) for and on behalf of the King of England's advisers. Irish institutions, Irish ideas, Irish traditions, the Irish Church, Irish schools, Irish language and literature, Irish trade, manufactures, commerce, agriculture—all were to be subordinated to England's needs and England's demands. At any cost almost, these were to be made subservient to the interests of England. So well was this plan carried out, that Ireland found itself being governed by a small English clique and its Houses of Parliament a mere tool in the clique's hands. The Parliament no longer represented the national will, since it did really nothing but ratify what the English party asked for, or what the King's ministers in England instructed should be made law.

Irish manufactures were ruined by legislation; the commerce of Ireland was destroyed by the same means; her schools became practically penitentiaries to the Catholic children, who were compelled to receive a Protestant instruction; her agriculture was degraded to the degree that cattle could not be exported nor the wool sold or shipped from her own ports to other countries; her towns swarmed with beggars and thieves, forced there by the desolation which prevailed in the country districts, where people starved by the wayside, and where those who lived barely kept body and soul together to pay the rents of the absentee landlords.

Swift has himself, in the pamphlets printed in the present volume, given a fairly accurate and no exaggerated account of the miserable condition of his country at this time; and his writings are amply corroborated by other men who might be considered less passionate and more temperate.

The people had become degraded through the evil influence of a contemptuous and spendthrift landlord class, who considered the tenant in no other light than as a rent-paying creature. As Roman Catholics they found themselves the social inferiors of the ruling Protestant class—the laws had placed them in that invidious position. They were practically without any defence. They were ignorant, poor, and half-starved. Thriftless, like their landlords, they ate up in the autumn what harvests they gathered, and begged for their winter's support. Adultery and incest were common and bred a body of lawless creatures, who herded together like wild beasts and became dangerous pests.

Swift knew all this. He had time, between the years 1714 and 1720, to find it out, even if he had not known of it before. But the condition was getting worse, and his heart filled, as he told Pope in 1728, with a "perfect rage and resentment" at "the mortifying sight of slavery, folly, and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live."

He commenced what might be called a campaign of attack in 1720, with the publication of his tract entitled, "A Modest Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufactures." As has been pointed out in the notes prefixed to the pamphlets in the present volume, England had, apparently, gone to work systematically to ruin Irish manufactures. They seemed to threaten ruin to English industries; at least so the people in England thought. The pernicious legislation began in the reign of Charles II. and continued in that of William III. The Irish manufacturer was not permitted to export his products and found a precarious livelihood in a contraband trade. Swift's "Proposal" is one of retaliation. Since England will not allow Ireland to send out her goods, let the people of Ireland use them, and let them join together and determine to use nothing from England. Everything that came from England should be burned, except the people and the coal. If England had the right to prevent the exportation of the goods made in Ireland, she had not the right to prevent the people of Ireland from choosing what they should wear. The temper of the pamphlet was mild in the extreme; but the governing officials saw in it dangerous symptoms. The pamphlet was stigmatized as libellous and seditious, and the writer as attempting to disunite the two nations. The printer was brought to trial, and the pamphlet obtained a tremendous circulation. Although the jury acquitted the printer, Chief Justice Whitshed, who had, as Swift puts it, "so quick an understanding, that he resolved, if possible, to outdo his orders," sent the jury back nine times to reconsider their verdict. He even declared solemnly that the author's design was to bring in the Pretender. This cry of bringing in the Pretender was raised on any and every occasion, and has been well ridiculed by Swift in his "Examination of Certain Abuses and Corruptions in the City of Dublin." The end of Whitshed's persecution could have been foretold—it fizzled out in a nolle prosequi.

Following on this interesting commencement came the lengthened agitation against Wood's Halfpence to which we owe the remarkable series of writings known now as the "Drapier's Letters." These are fully discussed in the volume preceding this. But Swift found other channels in which to continue rousing the spirit of the people, and refreshing it to further effort. The mania for speculation which Law's schemes had given birth to, reached poor Ireland also. People thought there might be found a scheme on similar lines by which Ireland might move to prosperity. A Bank project was initiated for the purpose of assisting small tradesmen. But a scheme that in itself would have been excellent in a prosperous society, could only end in failure in such a community as peopled Ireland. Swift felt this and opposed the plan in his satirical tract, "The Swearer's Bank." The tract sufficed, for no more was heard of the National Bank after the House of Commons rejected it.

The thieves and "roughs" who infested Dublin came in next for Swift's attention. In characteristic fashion he seized the occasion of the arrest and execution of one of their leaders to publish a pretended "Last Speech and Dying Confession," in which he threatened exposure and arrest to the remainder of the gang if they did not make themselves scarce. The threat had its effect, and the city found itself considerably safer as a consequence.

How Swift pounded out his "rage and resentment" against English misgovernment, may be further read in the "Story of the Injured Lady," and in the "Answer" to that story. The Injured Lady is Ireland, who tells her lover, England, of her attractions, and upbraids him on his conduct towards her. In the "Answer" Swift tells the Lady what she ought to do, and hardly minces matters. Let her show the right spirit, he says to her, and she will find there are many gentlemen who will support her and champion her cause.

Then came the plain, pathetic, and truthful recital of the "Short View of the State of Ireland"—a pamphlet of but a few pages and yet terribly effective. As an historical document it takes rank with the experiences of the clergymen, Skelton and Jackson, as well as the more dispassionate writings of contemporary historians. It is frequently cited by Lecky in his "History of Ireland."

What Swift had so far left undone, either from political reasons or from motives of personal restraint, he completed in what may, without exaggeration, be called his satirical masterpiece—the "Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People from being a Burthen to their Parents." Nothing comparable to this piece of writing is to be found in any literature; while the mere fact that it came into being must stand as one of the deadliest indictments against England's misrule. Governments and rulers have been satirized time and again, but no similar condition of things has existed with a Swift living at the time, to observe and comment on them. The tract itself must be read with a knowledge of the Irish conditions then prevailing; its temper is so calm and restrained that a reader unacquainted with the conditions might be misled and think that the author of "Gulliver's Travels" was indulging himself in one of his grim jokes. That it was not a joke its readers at the time well knew, and many of them also knew how great was the indignation which raged in Swift's heart to stir him to so unprecedented an expression of contempt. He had, as he himself said, raged and stormed only to find himself stupefied. In the "Modest Proposal" he changed his tune and

... with raillery to nettle,
Set your thoughts upon their mettle.

Swift has been censured for the cold-blooded cynicism of this piece of writing, but these censurers have entirely misunderstood both his motive and his meaning. We wonder how any one could take seriously a proposal for breeding children for food purposes, and our wonder grows in reflecting on an inability to see through the thin veil of satire which barely hid an impeachment of a ruling nation by the mere statement of the proposal itself. That a Frenchman should so misunderstand it (as a Frenchman did) may not surprise us, but that any Englishman should so take it argues an utter absence of humour and a total ignorance of Irish conditions at the time the tract was written. But history has justified Swift, and it is to his writings, rather than to the many works written by more commonplace observers, that we now turn for the true story of Ireland's wrongs, and the real sources of her continued attitude of hostility towards England's government of her.

It has been well noted by one of Swift's biographers, that for a thousand readers which the "Modest Proposal" has found, there is perhaps only one who is acquainted with Swift's "Answer to the Craftsman." It may be that the title is misleading or uninviting; but there is no question that this tract may well stand by the side of the "Modest Proposal," both for force of argument and pungency of satire. In its way and within the limits of its more restricted argument it is one of the ablest pieces of writing Swift has given us on behalf of Irish liberty.

The title of Irish patriot which Swift obtained was not sought for by him. It was given him mainly for the part he played, and for the success he achieved in the Wood's patent agitation. He was acclaimed the champion of the people, because he had stopped the foolish manoeuvres of the Walpole Administration. So to label him, however, would be to do him an injustice. In truth, he would have championed the cause of liberty and justice in any country in which he lived, had he found liberty and justice wanting there. The matter of the copper coinage patent was but a peg for him to hang arguments which applied almost everywhere. It was not to the particular arguments but to the spirit which gave them life that we must look for the true value of Swift's work. And that spirit—honest, brave, strong for the right—is even more abundantly displayed in the writings we have just considered. They witness to his championship of liberty and justice, to his impeachment of selfish office-holders and a short-sighted policy. They gave him his position as the chief among the citizens of Dublin to whom he spoke as counsel and adviser. They proclaim him as the friend of the common people, to whom he was more than the Dean of St. Patrick's. He may have begun his work impelled by a hatred for Whiggish principles; but he undoubtedly accomplished it in the spirit of a broad-minded and far-seeing statesman. The pressing needs of Ireland were too urgent and crying for him to permit his personal dislike of the Irish natives to divert him from his humanitarian efforts. If he hated the beggar he was ready with his charity. The times in which he lived were not times in which, as he told the freemen of Dublin, "to expect such an exalted degree of virtue from mortal men." He was speaking to them of the impossibility of office-holders being independent of the government under which they held their offices. "Blazing stars," he said, "are much more frequently seen than such heroical virtues." As the Irish people were governed by such men he advised them strongly to choose a parliamentary representative from among themselves. He insisted on the value of their collected voice, their unanimity of effort, a consciousness of their understanding of what they wished to bring about. "Be independent" is the text of all his writings to the people of Ireland. It is idle to appeal to England's clemency or England's justice. It is vain to evolve social schemes and Utopian dreams. The remedy lay in their own hands, if the people only realized it.

"Violent zeal for truth," Swift noted in one of his "Thoughts on Religion," "has a hundred to one odds to be either petulancy, ambition, or pride." Examining Swift's writings on behalf of Ireland by the criterion provided in this statement, we must acquit him entirely of misusing any of these qualities. If he were bitter or scornful, he was certainly not petulant. No one has written with more justice or coolness; the temper is hot but it is the heat of a conscious and collected indignation. If he wrote or spoke in a manner somewhat overbearing, it was not because of ambition, since he was now long past his youth and his mind had become settled in a fairly complacent acceptance of his position. If he had pride, and he undoubtedly had, it was nowhere obtruded for personal aggrandizement, but rather by way of emphasizing the dignity of citizenship, and the value of self-respect. Assuredly, in these Irish tracts, Swift was no violent zealot for truth. Indeed, it is a high compliment to pay him, to say that we wonder he restrained himself as he did.

Swift, however, had his weakness also, and it lay, as weaknesses generally lie, very close to his strength. Swift's fault as a thinker was the outcome of his intellectuality—he was too purely intellectual. He set little store on the emotional side of human nature; his appeal was always to the reason. He hated cant, and any expression of emotion appealed to him as cant. He could not bear to be seen saying his prayers; his acts of charity were surreptitious and given in secret with an affectation of cynicism, so that they might veil the motive which impelled them. It may have been pride or a dislike to be considered sentimental; but his attitude owed its spring to a genuine faith in his own thought. If Swift had one pride more than another, it lay in a consciousness of his own superiority over his fellow-mortals. It was the pride of intellect and a belief that man showed himself best by following the judgements of the reason. His disgust with people was born of their unreasonable selfishness, their instinctive greed and rapacity, their blind stupidity, all which resulted for them in so much injustice. Had they been reasonable, he would have argued, they would have been better and happier. The sentiments and the passions were impulsive, and therefore unreasonable. Swift seemed to have no faith in their elevation to a higher intellectual plane, and yet he often roused them by his very appeals to reason. His eminently successful "Drapier's Letters" are a case in point. Yet we question if Swift were not himself surprised at their effect. He knew his power later when he threatened the Archbishop of Armagh, but he, no doubt, credited the result to his own arguments, and not to the passions he had aroused. His sense of justice was the strongest, and it was through that sense that the condition of the people of Ireland appealed to him. He forgot, or he did not see that the very passion in himself was of prime importance, since it was really to it that his own efforts were due. The fine flower of imagination never blossomed in Swift. He was neither prophet nor poet; but he was a great leader, a splendid captain, a logical statesman. It is to this lack of imagination that we must look for the real root of his cynical humour and satirical temper. A more imaginative man than Swift with much less power would have better appreciated the weaknesses of humanity and made allowances for them. He would never have held them up to ridicule and contempt, but would rather have laid stress on those instincts of honour and nobility which the most ignorant and least reasoning possess in some degree.

Looking back on the work Swift did, and comparing its effect at the time with the current esteem in which he is held in the present day, we shall find that his reputation has altogether changed. In his own day, and especially during his life in Ireland, his work was special, and brought him a special repute. He was a party's advocate and the people's friend. His literary output, distinguished though it was, was of secondary importance compared with the purpose for which it was accomplished. He was the friend of Harley, the champion of the Protestant Church, the Irish patriot, the enemy of Whiggism, the opponent of Nonconformity. To-day all these phrases mean little or nothing to those who know of Swift as the author of "A Tale of a Tub," and "Gulliver's Travels." Swift is now accepted as a great satirist, and admired for the wonderful knowledge he shows of the failings and weaknesses of human nature. He is admired but never loved. The particular occasions in his life-time which urged him to rouse passions mean nothing to us; they have lost the aroma of his just indignation and are become historical events. What is left of him for us is the result of cold analysis and almost heartless contempt. How different would it have been had Swift allied his great gift as a writer to such a spirit as breathes in the Sermon on the Mount! But to wish this is perhaps as foolish as to expect dates to grow on thistles. We must accept what is given us, and see that we, at any rate, steer clear of the dangers mapped out for us by the travellers of the past.

The editor takes this opportunity to thank Mr. G. Ravenscroft Dennis and Mr. W. Spencer Jackson for much valuable assistance in the reading of proofs and the collation of texts.

Temple Scott.

New York,

May 18, 1905.