is also rapidly ceasing to coincide with that between Protestant and Catholic, and thus the old lines of demarcation are being gradually effaced. A considerable time must elapse before the full effect of these changes is felt, but sooner or later they must exercise a profound influence on opinion; and if they do not extinguish the desire of the people for national institutions, they will greatly increase the probability of their obtaining them.

L.

THE

LEADERS OF PUBLIC OPINION

IN

IRELAND.

JONATHAN SWIFT.

JONATHAN SWIFT was born in Dublin in the year 1667. His father (who had died a few months before) had been steward of the King's Inn Society. His mother was an English lady of a Leicestershire family, remarkable for the strictness of her religious views, and for the energy and activity of her character. At the early age of six, Swift was sent to a school at Kilkenny, where he remained till he was fourteen, when he entered the University of Dublin. His position there was exceedingly painful, and he remembered it with bitterness to the end of his life. His sole means of subsistence were the remittances of his uncle Godwin; and those remittances, owing to the poverty—or, as Swift believed, the miserly disposition-of his uncle, were doled out in the most niggardly manner. He found it impossible to maintain the position of a gentleman. He was precluded from all the luxuries, and could with difficulty procure the necessaries of life. Sr

B

Notwithstanding the extreme frugality with which he managed his slender resources, he was on one occasion left absolutely destitute, and was relieved only by the unexpected arrival of a present from a cousin, who was a merchant at Lisbon The conduct of a young man under such circumstances often furnishes no obscure intimation of the prevailing character of his after-life. Goldsmith, when struggling with extreme poverty, at the University, lived in the most reckless enjoyment, spending what money he had with profuse generosity, disregarding as far as possible the studies of his course, and only employing his fine talents in writing streetballads, which he sold to supply his more pressing wants. Johnson, in a similar position, grew morose, and turbulent, and domineering. He defied the discipline, but availed himself fully of the intellectual advantages of, college, and astonished and delighted his tutors by the extent and the accuracy of his information.

Swift, like Johnson, was completely soured by adversity, and, like Goldsmith, he treated the academic studies with supreme contempt. He systematically violated all college rules-absenting himself from night-roll, chapel, and lectures, haunting publichouses, and in every way defying discipline. He considered mathematics, logic, and metaphysics useless, and accordingly positively refused to study them. Dr. Sheridan (who was a good mathematician) tells us that in after-life he had attained some proficiency in the first of these subjects, but the hatred and contempt he entertained for it never diminished. His ignorance of logic was so great that at his degree examination he could not even frame a syllogism, and accordingly was unable to pass the examination, and only obtained his degree by special favour'—a fact

HIS LIFE AT THE UNIVERSITY.

6

3

which is still remembered with pleasure by the undergraduates who are examined beneath his portrait. Yet,' even at this time, his genius was not undeveloped or unemployed. He studied history, he wrote odes, and, above all, he composed his Tale of a Tub.' The first draft of this wonderful book he showed to his college friend Warren when he was only nineteen, but he afterwards amplified and revised it considerably, and its publication did not take place till 1704. He also acquired at this time those pedestrian habits which continued through life, and exercised so great an influence upon his mind. He traversed on foot a considerable portion of England and Ireland, mingling with the very lowest classes, and sleeping at the lowest public-houses. The traces of this habit may be seen on almost every page of his writings. To this period of his life we probably owe the taste for coarse, vulgar illustrations, by which his noblest works are disfigured, as well as much of that minute observation, that keen and accurate knowledge of men, which is one of their greatest charms. To the end of his life he delighted in mixing with men of the lowest classes, and no great writer ever understood better the art of adapting his style to their tastes and understandings. To the same period of his life we may trace the careful and penurious habits which in his old age developed into an intense avarice.

Upon leaving the University, the first gleam of prosperity, though at first hardly of happiness, shone upon his path. His mother was related to the wife of Sir W. Temple, and this circumstance procured for him the position of amanuensis at Moor Park, which he held for several years.

Sir W. Temple was at this time near the close of his He enjoyed the reputation of a considerable

career.

statesman and of a very great diplomatist, and his character was in truth much more suited for negotiation than for the rougher forms of statesmanship. With great abilities and much kindness of heart, he was too languid, unambitious, and epicurean to attain the highest place in English politics; and his bland, patronising courtesy, his refined and somewhat fastidious taste, as well as his instinctive shrinking from turmoil, controversy, and violence, denoted a man who was more fitted to shine in a court than in a parliament. He described in one of his Essays 'coolness of temper and blood, and consequently of desires,' as the great principle of virtue,' and his disposition almost realised his ideal. He had, however, a considerable knowledge of men and books, and a sound and moderate judgment in politics; and his life, if it was distinguished by no splendid virtues, and characterised by a little selfishness and a little cowardice, was at least singularly pure in an age when political purity was very rare. He had surrounded himself in his old age with beautiful gardens, and objects of art and refinement; and he dallied in a feeble way with literature, writing in admirably pure, graceful, and melodious English, somewhat vapid essays on politics and gardens, on Chinese literature and the Evil of Extremes.

With a character of this kind Swift could have little sympathy. For good or for evil, intensity was always one of his leading characteristics. It was shown alike in his friendships and his enmities, in his ambitions and his regrets. Though not susceptible to the common passion of love, a liquid fire seemed coursing through his veins. That sæva indignatio' which he recorded in his epitaph, the fierce ambition, the indomitable pride, the intense hatred of wrong, which he invariably displayed, must have often made him