Prose Works of Jonathan Swift, Volume 03, 04, 06, 07, 09, 10.

The inquiry into the religious thought of the eighteenth century forms

one of the most interesting subjects for speculation in the history of

the intellectual development of western nations. It is true, that in

that history Swift takes no special or distinguished part; but he forms

a figure of peculiar interest in a special circle of his own. Swift had

no natural bent for the ministry of a church; his instincts, his

temperament, his intellect, were of that order which fitted him for

leadership and administration. He was a born magistrate and commander of

men. It is, therefore, one of the finest compliments we can pay Swift to

say, that no more faithful, no more devoted, no stauncher servant has

that Church possessed; for we must remember the proud and haughty temper

which attempted to content itself with the humdrum duties of a parish

life. Swift entered the service of that Church at a time when its need

for such a man was great; and in spite of its disdain of his worth, in

spite of its failure to recognize and acknowledge his transcendent

qualities, he never forgot his oath, and never shook in his allegiance.

To any one, however, who reads carefully his sermons, his "Thoughts on

Religion," and his "Letter to a Young Clergyman," there comes a

question--whether, for his innermost conscience, Swift found a

satisfying conviction in the doctrines of Christianity. "I am not

answerable to God," he says, "for the doubts that arise in my own

breast, since they are the consequence of that reason which he hath

planted in me, if I take care to conceal those doubts from others, if I

use my best endeavours to subdue them, and if they have no influence on

the conduct of my life." We search in vain, in any of his writings, for

any definite expression of doubt or want of faith in these doctrines.

When he touches on them, as he does in the sermon "On the Trinity," he

seems to avoid of set purpose, rational inquiry, and contents himself

with insisting on the necessity for a belief in those mysteries

concerning God about which we cannot hope to know anything. "I do not

find," he says, in his "Letter to a Young Clergyman," "that you are

anywhere directed in the canons or articles to attempt explaining the

mysteries of the Christian religion; and, indeed, since Providence

intended there should be mysteries, I don't see how it can be agreeable

to piety, orthodoxy, or good sense to go about such a work. For to me

there seems a manifest dilemma in the case; if you explain them, they

are mysteries no longer; if you fail, you have laboured to no purpose."