This task is assigned by Ms. Prakruti Bhatt and it discusses A Tale of a Tub with various aspects.
Introduction to Swift and A Tale of a Tub
A Tale of a Tub” as a Religious Allegory
| Allegorical Element | Represents in the Allegory |
|---|---|
| The Father | God |
| The Three Sons (Peter, Martin, and Jack) | The three main branches of Western Christianity |
| ➥ Peter | The Roman Catholic Church (from St. Peter) |
| ➥ Martin | The Church of England / Anglicanism (from Martin Luther) |
| ➥ Jack | Protestant Dissenters / Calvinists (from John Calvin) |
| The Coats | The pure, uncorrupted doctrine of primitive Christianity |
| The Will | The Bible (The New Testament) |
The Corruption of Peter (The Catholic Church)
Initially, the brothers follow the Will's instructions, keeping their coats plain and unadorned. However, they are drawn to the fashionable world and want to alter their coats to fit in. Peter, the most cunning brother, begins to find loopholes in the Will to justify adding decorations.
When the Will explicitly forbids adding "silver fringe," Peter argues that since "fringe" is spelled with an 'F', it doesn't apply to "fringe" spelled with a 'Ph'. This satirizes the casuistry and scholastic logic he believed the Catholic Church used to justify practices not found in scripture.
Peter's additions to his coat grow more elaborate, allegorizing what Swift saw as Catholic corruptions:
Shoulder-knots: Represent the epaulettes of military dress, satirizing the Church's pursuit of temporal, worldly power.
Gold Lace: Symbolizes the accumulation of wealth and the use of elaborate, expensive rituals and ceremonies.
Locking up the Will: Peter eventually puts the Will in a strongbox and forbids his brothers from reading it, claiming he has the sole authority to interpret its meaning. This is a direct attack on the Catholic Church's practice of keeping the Bible in Latin, inaccessible to the laity, and its assertion of papal infallibility.
The Reformation of Martin (The Church of England)
After years of Peter's tyranny, Martin and Jack finally obtain a copy of the Will and realize how much Peter has deviated from their Father's instructions. They decide to reform their coats.
Martin proceeds with caution and moderation. He carefully begins to remove the added ornaments, but he stops when he fears that pulling off a decoration might tear the original fabric of the coat. He decides to leave some minor embellishments intact. This represents the English Reformation, which Swift champions as the sensible "via media" or middle way. It broke from the excesses of Rome but retained a hierarchical structure (like bishops) and some ceremonies that it deemed harmless and traditional.
The Fanaticism of Jack (The Protestant Dissenters)
Jack, in stark contrast to Martin, acts with violent zeal. Enraged by the corruptions, he furiously rips and tears every single ornament off his coat, shredding the original garment in the process.
This symbolizes what Swift saw as the destructive fanaticism of the Dissenting sects. In their desire for absolute purity, they destroyed essential elements of Christianity, such as tradition, ceremony, and ecclesiastical structure. Swift mercilessly satirizes their "enthusiasm" (a pejorative term for religious fanaticism at the time), their belief in private interpretation of scripture leading to madness, and their plain, unadorned style, which he portrays as a tattered and ruined version of the original faith. Jack's subsequent bizarre behaviors, like his worship of wind ("Aeolism"), further mock what Swift considered the irrationality of these groups.
Swift's Critique of Writers and Critics in A Tale of a Tub
The Folly of Modern Writers and Their Methods
Swift lampoons the "Modern" authors of his day as a fraternity of hacks and self-important dunces who prioritize fleeting fashion over enduring substance. He systematically dismantles their methods, motivations, and the very structure of their work.
In Section I, the narrator proudly declares himself a member of the "Grub-street brotherhood"
, a term for London's community of struggling hack writers. Swift uses this to frame Modern writing as a commercial, low-brow enterprise. He develops the allegory of the three "oratorial machines" to mock their output. The pulpit, representing religious and moral treatises, is made of "rotten wood" because it "is the quality of rotten wood to give light in the dark" and because "its cavities are full of worms"
. This brilliantly symbolizes the false enlightenment and internally corrupting ideas produced by these authors . The ladder symbolizes the works of "faction and of poetry"
, whose authors are fated to be turned off "before they can reach within many steps of the top" —a cutting metaphor for their fleeting fame and ultimate failure. The stage itinerant represents the cheap, popular tales and jests designed for the masses
. By classifying his own work in this lowest category, Swift preemptively mocks the very form he is using.
In Section V, a "Digression in the Modern Kind," Swift inhabits the voice of a Modern to parody their belief that they have "eclipsed the weak glimmering lights of the ancients"
. The narrator absurdly criticizes Homer for his "gross ignorance in the common laws of this realm, and in the doctrine as well as discipline of the church of England" . This anachronistic attack perfectly satirizes the Moderns' narrow-mindedness. He further mocks their superficial "systems" by proposing a recipe to distill all modern knowledge into a few drops of an elixir by boiling books in a bath , suggesting their collective wisdom amounts to almost nothing. The entire section is a parody of the prefaces of writers like John Dryden, who, the narrator claims, assured the world of his genius so often that it became accepted fact . In Section VII, Swift's "Praise of Digressions" is a deep critique of Modern literary structure. He argues that digressions are necessary because "there is not at this present a sufficient quantity of new matter left in nature to furnish and adorn any one particular subject to the extent of a volume"
. Modern authors, having exhausted all original ideas, must resort to what he calls "index learning"—the practice of becoming a wit "without the fatigue of reading or of thinking" . The "profounder, and politer method" is to simply "get a thorough insight into the index" , thus mastering the appearance of knowledge without acquiring any substance. In Section X and the Conclusion, Swift mocks the trivial motivations behind modern authorship, listing them as "a rainy day, a drunken vigil, a fit of the spleen... costive diet, want of books, and a just contempt of learning"
. He concludes by comparing obscure modern writing to a dark well: it often passes for "wondrous deep, upon no wiser a reason than because it is wondrous dark" , perfectly capturing his view of Modern profundity as nothing more than intentional obscurity.
The Malice of the "True Critic"
Swift reserves his most scathing indictment for the contemporary critic, whom he portrays not as a guardian of literary standards but as a destructive, ill-tempered parasite.
In Section III, "A Digression Concerning Critics," Swift argues that the noble forms of criticism have died out, leaving only the "third and noblest sort," the "TRUE CRITIC"
. He invents a satirical lineage for this figure, claiming he descends from Momus (the god of blame) and Hybris (insolence)
. The fundamental flaw of the "True Critic" is that his imagination is "entirely possessed and replete with the defects of other pens"
. He is defined as a mere "discoverer and collector of writers' faults" . This singular focus on negativity means that "the very quintessence of what is bad does of necessity distil into their own" work, making their criticism nothing but an abstract of other people's errors . Swift's most vicious attack comes through his pseudo-scholarly allegory of the critic as an ass. Citing fabricated ancient sources, he claims:
Critics are like asses who "delighted to nibble at the superfluities and excrescencies of books".
They are like the "ASSES with horns" that 'Herodotus' supposedly described, with the horns symbolizing their malice
. They are so full of gall (bitterness) that their "flesh was not to be eaten"
.
He concludes the section by providing three maxims to identify these critics
: Their criticism is best "when it is the very first result of the critic's mind," valuing rash impulse over thoughtful judgment
. They instinctively swarm around the best writers to attack them, just "as a rat to the best cheese, or as a wasp to the fairest fruit"
. A critic reading a book is "like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach are wholly set upon what the guests fling away, and consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the fewest bones"
. This final, devastating image solidifies his portrayal of the critic as a scavenger feeding on the scraps and imperfections of literature, contributing nothing of value himself.
How Swift Mocks Reading Habits in A Tale of a Tub
The Preference for Surface over Substance
A central pillar of Swift's satire is his accusation that modern readers are unwilling to perform the intellectual labor necessary for deep understanding, preferring instead to be dazzled by superficial wit and stylistic flair. He argues that they are content to skate on the surface of a text, willfully ignoring the profound truths hidden beneath.
This theme is established immediately in the Preface. The narrator presents a series of powerful metaphors to illustrate the difficult nature of true knowledge, warning that "wisdom is a fox, who, after long hunting, will at last cost you the pains to dig out". He further compares it to a "cheese, which, by how much the richer, has the thicker, the homelier, and the coarser coat". This imagery suggests that value is often found beneath an unappealing exterior, a place where the superficial reader refuses to look. Swift laments that writers who use complex allegories suffer a specific misfortune: "the transitory gazers have so dazzled their eyes and filled their imaginations with the outward lustre, as neither to regard or consider the person or the parts of the owner within"
This critique is formalized in Section X, where the narrator famously divides readers into "three classes". His descriptions reveal a clear hierarchy of intellectual engagement, with the vast majority occupying the bottom tiers:
The Superficial Reader: This type consumes the book purely as a diversion. Their highest form of engagement is to be "strangely provoked to laughter," an experience the narrator mockingly describes as a "sovereign against the spleen, and the most innocent of all diuretics". Their reading is reduced to a thoughtless, almost biological reaction; they enjoy the surface-level jokes but completely miss the underlying satire.
The Ignorant Reader: Positioned even lower, this reader is so intellectually unequipped that their only possible response is to "stare," which is praised with similar mock-medical jargon as a remedy that "wonderfully helps perspiration"
. They understand neither the humor nor the meaning, existing as passive, confused spectators to a performance they cannot comprehend. The Learned Reader: This is Swift's ideal—the only one for whom the book is truly intended. The narrator states that this reader, "for whose benefit I wake when others sleep," will "find sufficient matter to employ his speculations for the rest of his life"
. Unlike the others, this reader engages intellectually and critically, recognizing the complex layers of allegory and satire. Swift hyperbolically suggests that seven of the deepest scholars should be shut away for seven years to write commentaries on the book, a satirical tribute to the immense depth this ideal reader is capable of perceiving.
The Author's Battle with a Lazy Audience
Swift portrays the relationship between the modern author and the reader not as a collaborative journey toward understanding, but as a struggle. The author must constantly work to capture and hold the attention of a passive, impatient, and fundamentally lazy audience.
This dynamic is most explicitly detailed in Section XI. The narrator reveals that he has only maintained a "firm hold upon my gentle readers" by seizing them with the "handle" of "curiosity". He then describes curiosity in deeply satirical, animalistic terms, calling it the "spur in the side, that bridle in the mouth, that ring in the nose, of a lazy and impatient and a grunting reader". This imagery is profoundly insulting, casting the reader as a stubborn beast that must be prodded, steered, and controlled, rather than an engaged intellectual partner. The author lives in constant fear that if he should "remit my grasp," the reader will immediately succumb to their "natural oscitancy" (drowsiness or laziness)
This struggle informs the narrator's alignment with the "Grub-street brotherhood" in Section I. Swift suggests that a serious author is now forced to adopt the chaotic, entertaining, and digressive style of a commercial hack writer. He must produce a "Tale of a Tub"—a diverting and seemingly nonsensical piece of work—because it is the only format the superficial audience will tolerate. The book's very form is therefore a satirical concession to the flawed reading habits it is simultaneously critiquing.
The Manipulation of a Gullible Market
Given their laziness and superficiality, Swift's modern readers are presented as incredibly gullible and easy to manipulate. The literary marketplace, from authors to booksellers, is shown to cynically exploit these weaknesses.
In Section X, the narrator performs a parody of a modern preface, offering elaborate thanks to everyone from "his majesty and both houses of parliament" down to the "yeomanry of this land" for their "generous and universal acceptance of this divine treatise"
The Conclusion (Section XII) provides the most damning evidence of this manipulation through the dialogue between the author and his bookseller. The bookseller is a master of public taste, understanding that "books must be suited to their several seasons, like dress, and diet, and diversions". His decision to publish is based not on literary merit but on cynical market calculations, such as the weather or the success of the turnip harvest. His ultimate marketing strategy is to deceive the reader entirely by attributing the book to "whichever of the wits shall happen to be that week in vogue". This reveals a readership guided not by personal judgment but by celebrity and transient fashion. Swift delivers his final, scathing verdict on this audience's lack of taste with a visceral metaphor: the modern reader is like "a fly driven from a honey-pot" that "will immediately, with very good appetite, alight and finish his meal on an excrement".
The Sincere Satirist: Passion and Purpose in Swift's Style
"Marked Sincerity": A Clear Moral Framework
Swift's sincerity is not found in his narrative voice, which is almost always a mask, but in the unwavering moral and intellectual framework that underpins the entire satire. He is sincerely and fiercely committed to a specific set of values, and the narrative of A Tale of a Tub is designed to vindicate them.
The religious allegory of the three brothers serves as the primary evidence for this sincere framework. Peter and Jack are objects of Swift's unrelenting satirical scorn because they represent what he sincerely believes to be dangerous corruptions of religion:
Peter (Roman Catholicism) embodies tyranny, greed, and the deliberate distortion of scripture for power.
Jack (Protestant Dissenters) embodies "enthusiasm"—a wild, irrational, and self-destructive fanaticism that rips the very fabric of religion apart.
In stark contrast stands Martin (the Church of England), who is the undisputed hero of the tale. His actions are described not with irony, but with sincere approval. When reforming his coat, he proceeds with moderation and care, a direct reflection of Swift's sincere belief in the Anglican via media (middle way):
"Resolving, therefore, to rid his coat of a huge quantity of gold-lace, he picked up the stitches with much caution... resolving in no case whatsoever that the substance of the stuff should suffer injury; which he thought the best method for serving the true intent and meaning of his father's will."
This passage is a sincere prescription for reform, not a parody. The moral clarity—Martin is good, Peter and Jack are bad—is the bedrock of "marked sincerity" on which the entire satire is built.
"Concentrated Passion": The Force of Swift's Prose
Swift’s "passion" is the intellectual and moral fury that animates his writing. This passion is "concentrated" because it is channeled not into emotional or sentimental language, but into prose that is exceptionally clear, direct, and forceful. The power of his style comes from its precision and its logical, often brutal, dismantling of its targets.
This concentration of passion is evident in several key stylistic features:
Violent Imagery: Swift's disgust with fanaticism manifests in visceral, violent descriptions. Jack's reformation is not a gentle process but a savage assault: "in a great rage he tore off the whole piece, cloth and all, and flung it into the kennel," screaming to his brother to "strip, tear, pull, rend, flay off all". The passionate energy of these verbs conveys Swift's sincere horror at what he perceived as the self-destructive nature of religious zeal.
Relentless Logic (in Parody): The famous dinner scene in Section IV, where Peter insists a dry crust is a shoulder of mutton, is a masterpiece of concentrated passion. Swift passionately attacks what he sees as the irrationality of transubstantiation by having Peter enforce it with tyrannical rage rather than reason. Peter’s argument is a thundering command, concluding with the passionate threat: "'by G—, it is true, good, natural mutton... and G— confound you both eternally if you offer to believe otherwise.'" The passion is concentrated in the sheer force of this illogical decree.
Controlled Irony: Paradoxically, Swift’s most passionate convictions are often expressed through the coldest irony. The narrator of the digressions, a foolish "Modern," consistently praises what Swift despises. When this narrator celebrates the modern critic as a descendant of "Momus and Hybris" (blame and insolence) or mocks the "weak glimmering lights of the ancients", the ironic gap between the narrator's praise and Swift's own view is where the author's passionate contempt resides. The sincerity of his belief in classical learning is what makes the irony so potent and passionate.
Conclusion
Jonathan Swift's A Tale of a Tub is a work of dazzling complexity, operating as both a biting religious allegory and a sweeping critique of contemporary literary culture. For Swift, these two targets are symptoms of the same societal disease: a departure from reason and foundational truth. The allegorical figures of the tyrannical Peter and the fanatical Jack are the religious counterparts to the superficial "Modern" writers and malicious critics who corrupt true learning with vanity and ignorance. This dual assault is not born of mere cynicism but, as critic Sir Leslie Stephen observed, from a "marked sincerity" of purpose and a "concentrated passion" for a world governed by moderation and classical wisdom. Swift completes his critique by turning the satirical lens on his audience, mocking the lazy habits of the "superficial" and "ignorant" readers and structuring his challenging text to reward only the truly "learned."
References
Levine, Joseph M. The Battle of the Books: History and Literature in the Augustan Age. Cornell University Press, 1991.
Quintana, Ricardo. The Mind and Art of Jonathan Swift. Oxford University Press, 1936.
Stephen, Leslie. Swift. Macmillan, 1882.
Swift, Jonathan. A Tale of a Tub. Penguin Great Ideas, originally published in 1704, Penguin Books Ltd, 2004.
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