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 manœuvres 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