opes of his recovery;
but in a few days he sank into a lethargic stupidity, motionless,
heedless, and speechless. But it is said that after a year of total
silence, when his housekeeper, on the 30th of November, told him that
the usual bonfires and illuminations were preparing to celebrate his
birthday, he answered, "It is all folly; they had better let it alone."

It is remembered that he afterwards spoke now and then, or gave some
intimation of a meaning; but at last sank into a perfect silence,
which continued till about the end of October, 1744, when, in his
seventy-eighth year, he expired without a struggle.

When Swift is considered as an author, it is just to estimate his powers
by their effects. In the reign of Queen Anne he turned the stream of
popularity against the Whigs, and must be confessed to have dictated for
a time the political opinions of the English nation. In the succeeding
reign he delivered Ireland from plunder and oppression: and showed that
wit, confederated with truth, had such force as authority was unable to
resist. He said truly of himself, that Ireland "was his debtor." It was
from the time when he first began to patronise the Irish, that they may
date their riches and prosperity. He taught them first to know their
own interest, their weight, and their strength, and gave them spirit to
assert that equality with their fellow-subjects to which they have ever
since been making vigorous advances, and to claim those rights which
they have at last established. Nor can they be charged with ingratitude
to their benefactor; for they reverenced him as a guardian, and obeyed
him as a dictator.

In his works he has given very different specimens both of sentiments
and expression. His "Tale of a Tub" has little resemblance to his other
pieces. It exhibits a vehemence and rapidity of mind, a copiousness of
images, and vivacity of diction, such as he afterwards never possessed,
or never exerted. It is of a mode so distinct and peculiar, that it must
be considered by itself; what is true of that, is not true of anything
else which he has written. In his other works is found an equable tenour
of easy language, which rather trickles than flows. His delight was in
simplicity. That he has in his works no metaphor, as has been said, is
not true; but his few metaphors seem to be received rather by necessity
than choice. He studied purity; and though perhaps all his strictures
are not exact, yet it is not often